Individual
Character's full name: Kiernan McCallan
Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: Kier, Bloody Tash
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Date of Birth: March 5th
Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: Belfast, Ireland
Nationality: Irish
Ethnicity/ Cultural Heritage: Irish
Appearance
Hair color and style: Relatively short brown hair.
Skin Tone: Taken to sunlight, a tad bit tanned.
Eye Color: Brown
Height: 6'
Build: Trim Fit, Not bulky but in good fighting condition.
Visible mutation: N/A
Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: His ears are pierced and he is covered in tattoos that one would only be able to see were his shirt off. Half sleeves depicting Irish folk tales, ghostly figures and phantoms. His back is dominated by a depiction of his family crest, and on the back of his neck there is an Irish flag. On his chest is a flaming P. This is a throwback to an old Irish purist group, and reflects his openly speciesist views.
Other features: He is missing half of the ring finger on his right hand, and the pinkie is scarred from burns, and what looks like a shrapnel wound.
Everyday clothing style:
Uniform: A bland hoodie, shades and a ballcap.
Sleepwear: Typically he sleeps in the nude.
Miscellaneous clothing: When he is not doing what he likes most, he tends to go shirtless, or wear a form fitting tank top.
Character
Personality: Kiernan is a crude individual. He will tell you exactly what's on his mind fifty percent of the time, and the other fifty percent he will lie through his teeth. He has a very blunt sense of humor that can be off-putting. When he drinks he is loud, he likes to smoke inside, he enjoys getting into fights with people who think they are strong. He is handsome, and rude, and cunning, and he knows all of these things.
Often, he feels like he was born in the wrong time. He buffs toward world war two and one hard, and feels like he should have been a soldier in some great battle. Because of this, he is always looking to start a fight, and is even more excited when he can start one with a mutant. He fights as much to prove to himself that he is stronger or smarter than those he fights, as he does to destroy and trample on what he sees as evil in this world.
He truthfully, and honestly feels as though the next great war is on their doorsteps, and it will be a war for the survival of the human race. Mutants are monsters, young, old, small, large, nice, evil, they are all the same. He will be the one to light the flame that erases mutant kind from this planet before they do they same to the humans.
On a lighter note, Kiernan loves to learn; he's one of those irritating people that is naturally good at almost everything he does. Rarely does a concept vex him, and words and counter arguments seems to drift easily off of his tongue. He is manipulative in relationships, and is almost as good at convincing himself of something as he is others.
Hobbies/ Interests:
Job or part time job and description: Handy man. Kiernan is a licensed contractor, certified for the operation of large machinery, forklifts, demolitions, and just about anything else you can get certified for.
Fears/ phobias/ concerns: The fall of man. Not making a difference in the world. A pathetic death surrounded by those he loves. He wants to die a man. A proud. Human. Man.
Special talents: This is where being naturally good at things comes in. He is a great shot, a talented tactical mind, a grit-tested driver, and a natural at improvisation. He has learned well how to disguise himself, and act as if he belongs in places he doesn't. He can make explosives with common household chemicals and items. He has the anarchist cookbook pretty much memorized. It's almost as if this gentleman could have really gone places in life if he wasn't obsessed with blowing up people who were different than he.
Also Parkour.
Morality
Good/ bad/ neutral/ other: Rude. Not very likable. Honestly believes with all of his heart he is doing the right thing, and anything he can and will do to get that done will all be forgiven when he meets his maker. This makes him an objectively terrible person for what he plans to do.
Mutations
Mutation description: N/a
Strengths:
Weaknesses and Limitations:
Physical Abilities
General Physical Capabilities: He is stronger than your typical human being, being well worked out due to an intense work out regime. He maintains a flexibility and speed above average as well.
Fighting Style: He has dabbled in many forms of martial arts, most involving the use of guns and how to employ them against someone in a way in which they cannot stop you, but he is also a fan and practitioner of some of the more popular MMA fighting styles, earning his black belt in BJJ, and several amateur boxing titles in Ireland.
Fighting Style Pros/Cons: Pros: He's good at fighting. He is quick and unpredictable in a fist fight, understands controlling range and positioning to generate power, as well as use your opponents movement to increase damage dealt. He is brutal and to the point, and more often than not seeks to end fights quickly and fatally. He is skilled in the use of firearms in close and long range combat, and in the use of Melee weapons.
Cons: He tends to take risks that promise high rewards, but put him in greater danger. The rush of it can take him over, and leave him exposed.
History Of Your Character
Keirnan McCallan was born to Grainne and Declan McCallan, who just happened to be active members of the Provisional Irish Republican Army, back when it was still incredibly active. They'd opted to have children with the future of the movement in mind, and raised him as such, preparing their young son for a war that never came. He was taught how to survive with little resources, instructed on the use of arms and explosives, and provided the knowledge and insight on how to employ guerrilla tactics against a larger warforce without getting caught or leaving much in the way of evidence. Into his late teens he even participated in several attacks on citizens of the English empire and military personnel. Before long, though, he started to see a pattern of waning support for the cause... His parents started talking about peaceful solutions, and the IRA split into sub factions, breaking the backbone of the resistance. He no longer saw the opportunity to test himself, and his convictions he had in the past.
He delved deeper into the martial arts, Krav Maga, Brazilian Jujitsu, Wrestling, getting into countless scuffles at bars and even some professional fights. To support this lifestyle he took advantage of his natural ability to pick up on things quick, bouncing from handy-man jobs to contracting, and back again for years.
He couldn't stick around for the death of a fading movement, so he caught the next wave of increasing paramilitary clout, falling in with an increasingly popular anti-mutant group called Ireland Pure. It was there that he became obsessed with the instigation of the impending war between humans and mutants. It was the group's goal to change the opinion of the public on mutants by driving them out of safety, and getting them to lash out in public. They targeted the worst examples of mutant kind; ones they knew would fight back, and hurt others. Their campaign was largely successful for years, until a group of mutants infiltrated them, waited for the right moment, and attacked, killing most of their members, and scattering the rest.
Rather than being demoralized, Keir was more motivated than ever to win this war. He got in contact with some cousins who had immigrated to New York, and after some talk, decided that if he was going to make a real difference, it would be at the epicenter of the mutant/human crisis, NYC. He packed his bags over night, and was on a plane bright and early the next day.
Roleplay
What’s your OOC alias?: Puck!
Where did you learn about this site?: Calley's Googlemancy got me!
Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: Saph, Doc, and L
Sample RP:
A deep breath in. Exhale.
"Ahhh, that New York City air." He spoke in a smooth Irish accent, an amalgamation of dialects from his birthplace in Belfast and his long time home in north Dublin.
"Shite, really." He chuckled as he reached into his cousins car, hoisting out his military bag, and turning to check on the items in the trailer. He chatted more with his slightly distant family as they helped him cart up his luggage to the appartment he'd managed to procure down town. It wasn't much. More of a hole in the wall than anything, but it had just enough open space.
The neighbors, obviously looking to see if he had anything valuable worth stealing, might find it a bit offputting that he didn't seem to bring much in the way of furniture: A couple ikrea book cases, a mattress with no frame, a chair, a desk in a box... Then there was that large safe that took a lot of strength, and just as much cursing for five men to dolly up the stairs. With it came and an assortment of long cases, small cases, a corkboard. This was no normal neighbor.
With a cigarette in his mouth he added three locks to the door, seemingly ignorant or unconcerned with his rental agreement. Someone poked their head out of their door to complain, and he looked at them in such a way that they went right back to their own @#$^ing business. Soon, everything was in, and he was able to make it his own. The lone 27 year old bade his relatives goodbye, lit up his cigarette, and sat upon his singular chair. Once upon his throne he took to staring at a cork board as a dim computer screen flickered off to the side, and a cheep printer spat out it's last bit of paper. He looked over to the side of his room at the open gun safe, filled with firearms, off to the other side, where a desk was littered with the materials to make an old classic, the pipe bomb. With a content smile, he rolled himself up to the cork board, pulled a pin, grabbed the most recent piece of paper, and pinned up the fuzzy picture of a local community center friendly to mutants.
He took a long drag, ignoring the bomb making materials only yards away, and admired his handiwork. The board was filled with locations pulled from mutant-friendly guides and websites on line, places they could go, people who would help them, mutants to avoid... It was all there, open to the public domain. They were begging for someone like him to come along. He leaned back in his chair, grabbing the bottle of Whiskey sitting on the floor next to his bed, and pulling it up to his lap.
A content peace fell over the place as he let his stabber burn down toward his knuckles... The calm before the storm. After a long moment he mused to all of the walls listening.
"Oh man... This city ain't gonna know what hit it."
