Post by Shawn H Riley on Jun 6, 2008 1:47:09 GMT
ACCEPTED! Welcome to the board!
- I'll grant you 1st Lieutenant, as your application didn't entirely show Captain qualities.
See, I note stuff down.
~Danny
Account E-Mail: john577@comcast.net
Name: Shawn H. Riley
Nationality:
Irish-American
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath?
US
Character History:
Shawn Riley was born in Chicago, Illinois in 1920, the son of two Irish immigrants Nathan Riley and Sarah Riley. The family was extremely poor, and was trying to escape from the hardships of Ireland, only to be slapped by the hardships of America. After a few decent years there, the Great Depression struck which threw Shawn and his parents into devastation. His father would vanish for days on end, searching and begging for jobs just to get by. His mother scavenged through trash and the likes just to keep Shawn fed. The family went into starvation.
The young boy worked as hard as he could when he turned about 10 years old. He battled through the terrible times with his mother and father by his side. Over the years, the hardships shaped him into a man. He barely had a childhood. He didn't have time for fun and games. Shawn fought to keep his family alive and well. He grew up way too fast. In 1931, Nathan Riley found a job as a Taxi Cab
driver. Shawn and his mother praised God as much as they could, their family would be spared.
The job was well-paying and it helped keep the Riley's on their feet. But Shawn still had to work hard like his father for the family to be truly well and healthy. In 1932, Shawn's father got mixed up with the Italian Mafia. Although he wasn't Italian himself, two men from the Mafia approached Nathan's taxi and forced him to be a get a way driver as they robbed a bank. Nathan didn't know why he actually agreed to doing so. He wondered why he hadn't just sped off when the pair stepped into the bank. Part of him tried to convince himself it was because he didn't want to rub the Mafia the wrong way and get his family hurt or killed, but the other half knew him better. It knew he needed the money. It knew he wanted the money. Thats why he stayed there in that street, ready to press
his foot down upon the gas.
After the successful bank robbery in 1932, the Mafia Don thanked Shawn's father and over the course of the next couple of months, Nathan actually became good friends with the Mafia. He was a natural in their bar, and soon he began to get involved in "illegal" activities. But in 1934, upon finding his best friend from the mob dead in his apartment, and learning that he had enraged the Don, he confessed everything to a detective. The smuggling of beer, killings, rigging of races, etc. Most of the Mafia members were tried and arrested.
Nathan and Sarah Riley were brutally murdered by a few loyal Mafia members, who had been ordered to kill the entire Riley family. Shawn managed to escape via. fire exit and a Colt 1911 his father had given him. At the age of 14, Shawn killed the first person he had killed in his whole life. Two to be exact. With nowhere to go, Shawn headed off for a military school with the money his father had gathered over the years. Almost all of it to be exact. Shawn headed off for the most prestigious military school around, West Point Academy. Shawn didn't really care he was blowing away the money he needed to survive. His life was already over. All he wanted to do was join the army, serve his country, and stay there for the rest of his life.
In Shawn's mindset, he was the perfect soldier. He know didn't care for life. He didn't care if he lived or died. But he did care about victory. And he wanted to taste victory every time. His hands had already gotten dirty, so he didn't have any regret or mercy whatsoever when he killed. Unless he was killing the innocent. That was a different story. He wouldn't kill the innocent.
Shawn impressed his teachers time and time again. He had brutal efficiency and accuracy. He could go days on end without food, because of how he was raised. Shawn could take a lot of damage, and still pack a punch. He knew his way with weapons. How to use them, how to clean them, etc. He knew how to fight. And most
importantly. He knew how to lead.
Military Rank:
Sgt., Lt., higher?
Writing Sample:
Night fell swiftly, as the Sun set over Normandy, France. A blanket of stars and the moon made the landscape glisten. Shawn was laying in a small ditch on the side of the road, admiring the stars and taking some long drags on a cigarette he had gotten from his Nazi "buddy". And by "buddy" he meant the corpse he had found in a farm house about 12 yards down the road. Shawn left his hand rest for a few seconds, and began to hum an old song his mother use to sing him to him go to sleep at night.
He remember his mother. Long, chocolaty brown hair and nice fine tanned skin. Her dark brown eyes and luscious lips. She was quite the beaut, and Shawn took after his mother. As well as his father too. If only he could go back in time. If only his father hadn't gotten involved with the people he got involved with. Shawn sighed. No. Don't show your emotions. You are already dead. You've accepted that. That's what all soldiers need to accept. Now just get out there and fight!
Shawn pushed himself up, until he was sitting on the edge of the ditch, his back up against a wooden fence, that would come up to about his waist line if he was standing. He dug the tip of his cigarette into the ground and then grasped his weapon in his hands. Shawn straightened his helmet out a bit and got to his feet with the help of his rifle.
He trotted down the long stretch of a dirt road. He listened to gunfire in the distance, AA guns spraying the night sky, and of course the sound of his boots. He could have sworn he heard something on the other side of the fence to his left. He merely turned and emptied a couple clips of ammo into it, until he heard a thud. Then the young Irish-American walked along, whistling that old tune once more.
Shawn could have sworn someone was following him though. Every few steps, he would calmly turn, and unleash a few bullets into the fences, and calmly turn around once more and walk away. Finally, Shawn hopped over the fence to find a trail of 3 dead Germans, who had been crawling behind the fence. Shawn just chuckled, and kept on walking nonchalantly. He hadn't been disturbed or concerned, because of the events. War is war. You would die if you had to. You would kill because you had to.
- I'll grant you 1st Lieutenant, as your application didn't entirely show Captain qualities.
See, I note stuff down. ~Danny
Account E-Mail: john577@comcast.net
Name: Shawn H. Riley
Nationality:
Irish-American
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath?
US
Character History:
Shawn Riley was born in Chicago, Illinois in 1920, the son of two Irish immigrants Nathan Riley and Sarah Riley. The family was extremely poor, and was trying to escape from the hardships of Ireland, only to be slapped by the hardships of America. After a few decent years there, the Great Depression struck which threw Shawn and his parents into devastation. His father would vanish for days on end, searching and begging for jobs just to get by. His mother scavenged through trash and the likes just to keep Shawn fed. The family went into starvation.
The young boy worked as hard as he could when he turned about 10 years old. He battled through the terrible times with his mother and father by his side. Over the years, the hardships shaped him into a man. He barely had a childhood. He didn't have time for fun and games. Shawn fought to keep his family alive and well. He grew up way too fast. In 1931, Nathan Riley found a job as a Taxi Cab
driver. Shawn and his mother praised God as much as they could, their family would be spared.
The job was well-paying and it helped keep the Riley's on their feet. But Shawn still had to work hard like his father for the family to be truly well and healthy. In 1932, Shawn's father got mixed up with the Italian Mafia. Although he wasn't Italian himself, two men from the Mafia approached Nathan's taxi and forced him to be a get a way driver as they robbed a bank. Nathan didn't know why he actually agreed to doing so. He wondered why he hadn't just sped off when the pair stepped into the bank. Part of him tried to convince himself it was because he didn't want to rub the Mafia the wrong way and get his family hurt or killed, but the other half knew him better. It knew he needed the money. It knew he wanted the money. Thats why he stayed there in that street, ready to press
his foot down upon the gas.
After the successful bank robbery in 1932, the Mafia Don thanked Shawn's father and over the course of the next couple of months, Nathan actually became good friends with the Mafia. He was a natural in their bar, and soon he began to get involved in "illegal" activities. But in 1934, upon finding his best friend from the mob dead in his apartment, and learning that he had enraged the Don, he confessed everything to a detective. The smuggling of beer, killings, rigging of races, etc. Most of the Mafia members were tried and arrested.
Nathan and Sarah Riley were brutally murdered by a few loyal Mafia members, who had been ordered to kill the entire Riley family. Shawn managed to escape via. fire exit and a Colt 1911 his father had given him. At the age of 14, Shawn killed the first person he had killed in his whole life. Two to be exact. With nowhere to go, Shawn headed off for a military school with the money his father had gathered over the years. Almost all of it to be exact. Shawn headed off for the most prestigious military school around, West Point Academy. Shawn didn't really care he was blowing away the money he needed to survive. His life was already over. All he wanted to do was join the army, serve his country, and stay there for the rest of his life.
In Shawn's mindset, he was the perfect soldier. He know didn't care for life. He didn't care if he lived or died. But he did care about victory. And he wanted to taste victory every time. His hands had already gotten dirty, so he didn't have any regret or mercy whatsoever when he killed. Unless he was killing the innocent. That was a different story. He wouldn't kill the innocent.
Shawn impressed his teachers time and time again. He had brutal efficiency and accuracy. He could go days on end without food, because of how he was raised. Shawn could take a lot of damage, and still pack a punch. He knew his way with weapons. How to use them, how to clean them, etc. He knew how to fight. And most
importantly. He knew how to lead.
Military Rank:
Sgt., Lt., higher?
Writing Sample:
Night fell swiftly, as the Sun set over Normandy, France. A blanket of stars and the moon made the landscape glisten. Shawn was laying in a small ditch on the side of the road, admiring the stars and taking some long drags on a cigarette he had gotten from his Nazi "buddy". And by "buddy" he meant the corpse he had found in a farm house about 12 yards down the road. Shawn left his hand rest for a few seconds, and began to hum an old song his mother use to sing him to him go to sleep at night.
He remember his mother. Long, chocolaty brown hair and nice fine tanned skin. Her dark brown eyes and luscious lips. She was quite the beaut, and Shawn took after his mother. As well as his father too. If only he could go back in time. If only his father hadn't gotten involved with the people he got involved with. Shawn sighed. No. Don't show your emotions. You are already dead. You've accepted that. That's what all soldiers need to accept. Now just get out there and fight!
Shawn pushed himself up, until he was sitting on the edge of the ditch, his back up against a wooden fence, that would come up to about his waist line if he was standing. He dug the tip of his cigarette into the ground and then grasped his weapon in his hands. Shawn straightened his helmet out a bit and got to his feet with the help of his rifle.
He trotted down the long stretch of a dirt road. He listened to gunfire in the distance, AA guns spraying the night sky, and of course the sound of his boots. He could have sworn he heard something on the other side of the fence to his left. He merely turned and emptied a couple clips of ammo into it, until he heard a thud. Then the young Irish-American walked along, whistling that old tune once more.
Shawn could have sworn someone was following him though. Every few steps, he would calmly turn, and unleash a few bullets into the fences, and calmly turn around once more and walk away. Finally, Shawn hopped over the fence to find a trail of 3 dead Germans, who had been crawling behind the fence. Shawn just chuckled, and kept on walking nonchalantly. He hadn't been disturbed or concerned, because of the events. War is war. You would die if you had to. You would kill because you had to.