Post by ∬: Erik Schneider on May 11, 2009 3:22:11 GMT
ACCEPTEDDD!!![/B] 
Sorry guys, I couldn't not accept Brentwood's brother's application, I mean, I spoke to Erik about the history and everything - He's nailed it completely and we've started something that's going to be quite epic together.
The application is fantastic and the writing scenario is just a taster of what we had in mind; Take note of the 'final' paragraph.
Ahem!
Anyway, fantastic application, has my full approval to be Liam's in-character brother and Erik's done a fantastic job in moulding the Brentwood family history, so I would be honoured to accept this application myself.
WOO!
~Danny[/color]
Account E-Mail: Same as always.
Name: Tyler J. Brentwood
Nationality: British
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath? UK
Character History:
Tyler D. Brentwood II was born on May 25th, 1921 to Tyler D. Brentwood I and Mary J. Brentwood. His brother, Liam, was only around the age of five at the time. The family was one of working class and little importance. The only significance about the Brentwood family was the face that their father had been a valiant soldier in the Great War. No matter how well he had served in the First World War, he would return home a changed man to a low-paying yet hard-working job.
Neither Liam or Tyler had memories of their father before the war, but their mother assured them he was a better man. He was compassionate, generous, selfish, and brave. Yet, he returned a deranged man who had been led astray from his morals due to the horrors of the war. The war that was meant to end all wars. What a load of crap that was.
The Brentwood childhood is not one of fond memories. His father beat, punished, and disowned his children. Being the baby of the family, Tyler received the lesser of these beatings. His brother was always there to protect his younger brother and for that sacrifice... Tyler would grow to love his brother dearly. It was the deepest of bonds in the darkest of times for the two Brentwood brothers. One that would forever shape their very lives.
For the same reason, Tyler grew closer to his mother. She looked out over her youngest son more so than her oldest, for he was weaker. Where Liam stood, Tyler fell. Where Liam triumphed, Tyler failed. He walked in his older brother's shadows and cowered behind his shield. Mary was not too fond of this and wanted her son to learn to defend himself, instead of simply following his brother. However, she would never quite prevail, for Tyler would always follow his brother. Over the years, he developed more independence but one thing was certain, Liam was the leader.
There was almost always one area where Tyler could outshine his brother though. School. He always struggled to be one of the best in class. It was the only time his brother was never with him, because of their age difference. So in turn, Tyler began to develop his own shield through school. He had to be more independent to defend himself from bullies and harassment. Certain that a proper education was a ticket out of his hell hole of a life and that he could even drag Liam out with him, Tyler almost always put the majority of his focus on his schooling.
As he grew older, he was sent a little more over the edge. His father grew crazier with each passing day and his abusive fathering twisted his children. Their mental stability slowly faded away and so did their grip on morals. They twisted and bended their own morals and believed that they were good even though their actions were bad. It was only natural, not having much of a parent figure to shape their conception of right from wrong. Their idea of fun was getting set loose in London to wreak havoc on the populace for their greater good. They would often find pigeons who they deemed of some sort of wrong doing and tore them to pieces. Or when they were out in the country side they would find fox holes and set them alight for all the evil they caused upon the world, laughing as the cubs were burned alive. One time, they wound up picking a fight with the neighborhood bully Thomas 'Tommy' Haskins. They had dragged him out in the middle of the night and beaten him with bats until suspending him from a light post with his boxers.
In 1935, Liam finally escaped. He told his little brother that it for King and country and that he wanted the British Empire to achieve glory once again. Tyler understood, but only thirteen years old, he couldn't follow his brother just yet. So he was stuck with his parents. His mother was the shell of the women she once was, having endured so much for so long. His father had concealed his insanity by taking it all out on his family, and so... Tyler would have to endure as well. It was then that he achieved independence from his brother, but was held back by weakness.
During his teenage years, Tyler took a liking to athletics. He was weak and frail, even with his father's occasional beatings hardening his skin. He made a sudden transformation into a rather fit and healthy athlete in the better part of two years. He was known to play soccer and rugby aggressively, becoming a star player at his school. Without his brother's guidance, he was forced to make his own way. He exceeded in such, but still missed his brother and best friend dearly. They were known to be "Jackals" at school and without Liam... it just wasn't complete.
So when Tyler finally turned 18 ... he knew where he was heading. His brother had, by chance, become a respectable Lieutenant. Following in his footsteps once more, Tyler left behind his family and life for the military at a ripe, young age. He took a nationalistic approach to the situation, believing he was to achieve glory against the scum and villainy of the world for his King. He despised the traits of his father and even more so the enemies he would later face.
Excelling at his life in the military due to both his brains and brawn, Tyler became a capable leader himself, but even more so an excellent follower. A capable leader and follower, he was promoted into the NCO ranks where he would lead men and follow officers. It wasn't long before he showed his exceptional skill in combat due to a driven personality, tough state of mind, and large pain barrier. He was promoted to Staff Sergeant not long into the war and has held the rank with skill and ease ever since.
Military Rank:
- Staff Sergeant
Writing Sample:
Rubbing his hand through the sand, he tested the heat of the desert. Reassured he wouldn't burn himself by lying down, he ordered the rest of his squad to drop down. He hugged the sand against his body as he got down onto his chest, his Sten SMG grasped firmly in his hands. His skin was slightly burnt to a crisp as he settled into the scorching sand, cursing the prospect of having to stay in Africa. The damned Germans had brought forth a general who actually had a brain, and now the British were facing the consequences. The fact that the black weapon absorbed most of the heat from the sun and was burning through the outer layers of his skin didn't help him much as he shifted uncomfortably on the millions of tiny particles of sand.
Why in the hell had Tyler signed up for the 7th Armoured Division? Oh that's right, because Liam had. Damn that Liam, going off and joining the unit that had to fight in Africa. Hopefully, they would be out of Africa within the year and take the fight to the bastards. First, they would have to fight through Italy though. But knowing those cowards, they would be easy to cut through. Or maybe they could go through France? Knowing the French, they would somehow screw over their own liberation. Italy it was then.
Tyler had been gracefully sifting through the desert sands inside the protective covering of a truck, until the driver had abruptly stopped the entire convoy with fears that a small group of Germans were making their way down the road just a few miles up ahead. Typical Welsh though, messing up the whole operation. That was why the British Empire should be the British Empire. They knew how to maintain control and keep the others in line. And now, Tyler was lying chest-down in sand with a handful of other men. Some British, others Scottish, and some Welsh or Irish. It was a jolly handful... of idiots. Actually spotting slow moving German convoy moving up ahead was unsettling, considering he would be fighting it with these bloody morons.
(Epic fail, Erik. British = English, Welsh, Scottish, Northern Irish)
- A year late but I hate you Rhys.
It was best to get the show on the road. The convoy consisted of only three German trucks with a Volkswagen in between each one. It was probably only a troop transport. They could cut down all of the men inside, before they had the chance to fight back. Tyler turned over on his back and signaled for the Bren gunner to move up over the small ridge. Organizing the rest of the men properly was simple for such an endeavor. All they had to do was aim and fire at some big targets. If the idiots couldn't pull that off, Tyler would see his brother about maybe getting the Jackals to make a few men MIA. He chuckled in contemplation as his grip tightened on the barrel of the Sten MG, earning himself a few odd glances his way.
The roar of the truck's engines grew closer and the rest of the men grew anxious to pop over the ridge and open fire. Gritting his teeth together, Brentwood raised his hand to signal the men to hold back. The men listened and slackened their grip on their weapons ever so slightly. The seconds turned into minutes and the minutes into hours in anticipation. Of course, it only took a few moments for the small transport convoy to arrive around the bending road, but to the British on the ridge it seemed like an eternity. An eternity of staring and nothing but sand and holding your gun to your chest as if it were your child.
At last, the front truck came into view and began to curve to the right to make the upcoming turn. Tyler patted the Bren gunner on the back, who immediately opened fire. All down the line, men exposed themselves on the ridge and open fire on the collection of five vehicles. A few men chucked grenades over the ridge and watched as Germans clambered out of the truck, only to come face to face with a British grenade. For King and country, Tyler though as he opened fire on a few officers gathered in the backseat of a Volkswagen. The Afrika Korps needed to be taught a tire lesson and if the Jackals could have their way... this war would already be over.
The fire fight drew to a close as the targets disappeared. Everyone was dead. To make sure, the Staff Sergeant rose from his position and signaled for the men to inspect the carnage. Sliding down the small ridge, they came upon the sight of burning metal, blood, and sand. Corpses piled up in the back of trucks as desperate Germans attempted to dive out in order to retaliate. Hauptmanns and Lieutenants lurched forward in their seats, dead from numerous bullet wounds. They had all been rendered helpless and a threat to the world had been exterminated. Proud that the deed was done with no casualties or failures, Tyler led the march down the road back to the rest of the British convoy. The Jackals had struck another victory as Tyler glanced towards a British Corporal, who deviously grinned back.
Sorry guys, I couldn't not accept Brentwood's brother's application, I mean, I spoke to Erik about the history and everything - He's nailed it completely and we've started something that's going to be quite epic together.
The application is fantastic and the writing scenario is just a taster of what we had in mind; Take note of the 'final' paragraph.
Ahem!Anyway, fantastic application, has my full approval to be Liam's in-character brother and Erik's done a fantastic job in moulding the Brentwood family history, so I would be honoured to accept this application myself.
WOO!~Danny[/color]
Account E-Mail: Same as always.
Name: Tyler J. Brentwood
Nationality: British
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath? UK
Character History:
Tyler D. Brentwood II was born on May 25th, 1921 to Tyler D. Brentwood I and Mary J. Brentwood. His brother, Liam, was only around the age of five at the time. The family was one of working class and little importance. The only significance about the Brentwood family was the face that their father had been a valiant soldier in the Great War. No matter how well he had served in the First World War, he would return home a changed man to a low-paying yet hard-working job.
Neither Liam or Tyler had memories of their father before the war, but their mother assured them he was a better man. He was compassionate, generous, selfish, and brave. Yet, he returned a deranged man who had been led astray from his morals due to the horrors of the war. The war that was meant to end all wars. What a load of crap that was.
The Brentwood childhood is not one of fond memories. His father beat, punished, and disowned his children. Being the baby of the family, Tyler received the lesser of these beatings. His brother was always there to protect his younger brother and for that sacrifice... Tyler would grow to love his brother dearly. It was the deepest of bonds in the darkest of times for the two Brentwood brothers. One that would forever shape their very lives.
For the same reason, Tyler grew closer to his mother. She looked out over her youngest son more so than her oldest, for he was weaker. Where Liam stood, Tyler fell. Where Liam triumphed, Tyler failed. He walked in his older brother's shadows and cowered behind his shield. Mary was not too fond of this and wanted her son to learn to defend himself, instead of simply following his brother. However, she would never quite prevail, for Tyler would always follow his brother. Over the years, he developed more independence but one thing was certain, Liam was the leader.
There was almost always one area where Tyler could outshine his brother though. School. He always struggled to be one of the best in class. It was the only time his brother was never with him, because of their age difference. So in turn, Tyler began to develop his own shield through school. He had to be more independent to defend himself from bullies and harassment. Certain that a proper education was a ticket out of his hell hole of a life and that he could even drag Liam out with him, Tyler almost always put the majority of his focus on his schooling.
As he grew older, he was sent a little more over the edge. His father grew crazier with each passing day and his abusive fathering twisted his children. Their mental stability slowly faded away and so did their grip on morals. They twisted and bended their own morals and believed that they were good even though their actions were bad. It was only natural, not having much of a parent figure to shape their conception of right from wrong. Their idea of fun was getting set loose in London to wreak havoc on the populace for their greater good. They would often find pigeons who they deemed of some sort of wrong doing and tore them to pieces. Or when they were out in the country side they would find fox holes and set them alight for all the evil they caused upon the world, laughing as the cubs were burned alive. One time, they wound up picking a fight with the neighborhood bully Thomas 'Tommy' Haskins. They had dragged him out in the middle of the night and beaten him with bats until suspending him from a light post with his boxers.
In 1935, Liam finally escaped. He told his little brother that it for King and country and that he wanted the British Empire to achieve glory once again. Tyler understood, but only thirteen years old, he couldn't follow his brother just yet. So he was stuck with his parents. His mother was the shell of the women she once was, having endured so much for so long. His father had concealed his insanity by taking it all out on his family, and so... Tyler would have to endure as well. It was then that he achieved independence from his brother, but was held back by weakness.
During his teenage years, Tyler took a liking to athletics. He was weak and frail, even with his father's occasional beatings hardening his skin. He made a sudden transformation into a rather fit and healthy athlete in the better part of two years. He was known to play soccer and rugby aggressively, becoming a star player at his school. Without his brother's guidance, he was forced to make his own way. He exceeded in such, but still missed his brother and best friend dearly. They were known to be "Jackals" at school and without Liam... it just wasn't complete.
So when Tyler finally turned 18 ... he knew where he was heading. His brother had, by chance, become a respectable Lieutenant. Following in his footsteps once more, Tyler left behind his family and life for the military at a ripe, young age. He took a nationalistic approach to the situation, believing he was to achieve glory against the scum and villainy of the world for his King. He despised the traits of his father and even more so the enemies he would later face.
Excelling at his life in the military due to both his brains and brawn, Tyler became a capable leader himself, but even more so an excellent follower. A capable leader and follower, he was promoted into the NCO ranks where he would lead men and follow officers. It wasn't long before he showed his exceptional skill in combat due to a driven personality, tough state of mind, and large pain barrier. He was promoted to Staff Sergeant not long into the war and has held the rank with skill and ease ever since.
Military Rank:
- Staff Sergeant
Writing Sample:
Rubbing his hand through the sand, he tested the heat of the desert. Reassured he wouldn't burn himself by lying down, he ordered the rest of his squad to drop down. He hugged the sand against his body as he got down onto his chest, his Sten SMG grasped firmly in his hands. His skin was slightly burnt to a crisp as he settled into the scorching sand, cursing the prospect of having to stay in Africa. The damned Germans had brought forth a general who actually had a brain, and now the British were facing the consequences. The fact that the black weapon absorbed most of the heat from the sun and was burning through the outer layers of his skin didn't help him much as he shifted uncomfortably on the millions of tiny particles of sand.
Why in the hell had Tyler signed up for the 7th Armoured Division? Oh that's right, because Liam had. Damn that Liam, going off and joining the unit that had to fight in Africa. Hopefully, they would be out of Africa within the year and take the fight to the bastards. First, they would have to fight through Italy though. But knowing those cowards, they would be easy to cut through. Or maybe they could go through France? Knowing the French, they would somehow screw over their own liberation. Italy it was then.
Tyler had been gracefully sifting through the desert sands inside the protective covering of a truck, until the driver had abruptly stopped the entire convoy with fears that a small group of Germans were making their way down the road just a few miles up ahead. Typical Welsh though, messing up the whole operation. That was why the British Empire should be the British Empire. They knew how to maintain control and keep the others in line. And now, Tyler was lying chest-down in sand with a handful of other men. Some British, others Scottish, and some Welsh or Irish. It was a jolly handful... of idiots. Actually spotting slow moving German convoy moving up ahead was unsettling, considering he would be fighting it with these bloody morons.
(Epic fail, Erik. British = English, Welsh, Scottish, Northern Irish)
- A year late but I hate you Rhys.
It was best to get the show on the road. The convoy consisted of only three German trucks with a Volkswagen in between each one. It was probably only a troop transport. They could cut down all of the men inside, before they had the chance to fight back. Tyler turned over on his back and signaled for the Bren gunner to move up over the small ridge. Organizing the rest of the men properly was simple for such an endeavor. All they had to do was aim and fire at some big targets. If the idiots couldn't pull that off, Tyler would see his brother about maybe getting the Jackals to make a few men MIA. He chuckled in contemplation as his grip tightened on the barrel of the Sten MG, earning himself a few odd glances his way.
The roar of the truck's engines grew closer and the rest of the men grew anxious to pop over the ridge and open fire. Gritting his teeth together, Brentwood raised his hand to signal the men to hold back. The men listened and slackened their grip on their weapons ever so slightly. The seconds turned into minutes and the minutes into hours in anticipation. Of course, it only took a few moments for the small transport convoy to arrive around the bending road, but to the British on the ridge it seemed like an eternity. An eternity of staring and nothing but sand and holding your gun to your chest as if it were your child.
At last, the front truck came into view and began to curve to the right to make the upcoming turn. Tyler patted the Bren gunner on the back, who immediately opened fire. All down the line, men exposed themselves on the ridge and open fire on the collection of five vehicles. A few men chucked grenades over the ridge and watched as Germans clambered out of the truck, only to come face to face with a British grenade. For King and country, Tyler though as he opened fire on a few officers gathered in the backseat of a Volkswagen. The Afrika Korps needed to be taught a tire lesson and if the Jackals could have their way... this war would already be over.
The fire fight drew to a close as the targets disappeared. Everyone was dead. To make sure, the Staff Sergeant rose from his position and signaled for the men to inspect the carnage. Sliding down the small ridge, they came upon the sight of burning metal, blood, and sand. Corpses piled up in the back of trucks as desperate Germans attempted to dive out in order to retaliate. Hauptmanns and Lieutenants lurched forward in their seats, dead from numerous bullet wounds. They had all been rendered helpless and a threat to the world had been exterminated. Proud that the deed was done with no casualties or failures, Tyler led the march down the road back to the rest of the British convoy. The Jackals had struck another victory as Tyler glanced towards a British Corporal, who deviously grinned back.
