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Name: York Freeman
Appearance: York is 27 years old and stands 6 foot 2 inches and weighs around 215 pounds. He has dark brown eyes and short, dark brown hair in which hangs over his eyes. He is well built and has a tan-ish skin tone. He has much strength in his upper body, especially in his biceps. As for his lower body, he has pretty strong calf muscles, but otherwise is built normally. His clothing depends on the environment. Usually, York wears a long sleeve shirt and pants, both urban camoflauge. Now and then, he wears ACU's with varying templates, if the urban camo is out of the question for the operation. Sometimes, a trench coat is worn over his combat clothing. He also can often be found wearing a black balaclava too. He always wears a bulky black vest and black gloves in battle, no matter what else he is wearing. The vest includes many pouches in which York mostly keeps grenades and ammunition. When undercover, York often wears a black suit with a white shirt and a tie, which makes him look like the average business man. He may carry a brief case and put a weapon of some kind in it-- most likely a pistol. When he doesn't have a brief case, you can expect that he'll have a pistol in the inside pocket of his coat. York often wears a dark brown or tan trench coat overtop of the suit. Outside of the house, he often wears a trench coat as well, because it is good for holding weapons. Even if he isn't carrying weapons (this rarely happens), he likes the way it looks on him. York also has many scars and cuts on his face from his numerous battles. York has one scar running from his left eyebrow down through his eye and stopping at mid cheek from shrapnel in one of his many tours of duty. Also, two short scars running parallel under his right eye from a knife while fighting close quarters with an enemy. Other scars of his are less noticeable. As for body art, York has one tattoo. It is on his left bicep: a completely back tattoo of an anonymous demon with its dark wings spread out and flames rising from the demon.
Personality: York rarely speaks of his past unless asked about it but still feels uneasy. There are just certain aspects about it that he is unwilling to share. Otherwise, he isn't really quiet. York enjoys talking to his friends and is pretty outgoing. He will openly help his friends and fellow soldiers with their problems, whatever they may be. York enjoys showing off but in combat situations he isn’t quite as bold. York is a great soldier, but he trusts his teammates and understands that teamwork is very important. He is pretty easy to get along with. He is very comfortable with his close friends but has problems truly trusting others. But once he trusts you, you are in the loop. York is kind of a layed back kind of person, but he takes his job very seriously and he can’t stand soldiers, especially rookies, who really wish they weren’t there. But he does respect those who are higher in rank than him. York loves his job very much, and although he can be a smart a** at times, he obeys orders immediately and efficiently and will do whatever has to be done to further the team’s success.
Belongings: York loves guns… period. His go-to weapon is his G36C. This is a weapon that York has learned to love. He used it often in his days in the military and ever since his first experiences with it, has been quite fond of it. York's G36C has a 6X scope and a strap so that he can sling the gun over his shoulder when he isn't using it. York also possesses an M4 Carbine, which he tested and learned to love before long. He also wanted some type machine gun for when enemy numbers were great, so he bought a short-barreled paratrooper version of the M249 SAW. Next, York looked around for a shotgun. He couldn’t really find anything that he liked, until he found the Spas 12. He bought it, but doesn't use it too often. York also carries a standard combat knife on the back of the waistline in a sheath. He carries it more for conveinience purposes rather than combat purposes. He will use it in combat if necessary, though. Of course, a soldier needs a hand gun. York bought four. First, he bought a Colt .45, which he didn't like at first, but "grew into" as time went on. Now, York uses it fairly often. He liked it, but he felt like he should have a machine pistol as well. He ended up buying a Glock 18, and because he like it so much, he bought a second soon after and bought extended clips for each of them. So now York had a Colt. 45 and two Glock 18s. You’d think that would be enough. Well, he wasn’t satisfied. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, he just wanted something more powerful. He couldn’t quite find anything he liked, until, of course, he came across the .50AE IMI Desert Eagle. He immediately bought it. Not too long ago, York bought himself an AS50 Sniper Rifle, a weapon quite common in Great Britain, just in case he would ever need to do some sniping. Lastly, York's most recent addition to his weapon inventory is his new P90 sub machine gun. York also carries some fragmentation grenades, smoke grenades, and C4. If he is sent on a non-lethal operation, he may use flashbangs and/or tear gas and/or smoke grenades.
York wears a silver chain with a silver cross on it around his neck at all times. He isn't very religious, but he does believe in God and he feels that it reminds him of that. He has a wide range of clothing, including a dark brown overcoat, his uniforms/ gear, three pairs of boots, two pair of sneakers, and so on. York smokes and can always be found carrying a pack or two of cigars and his silver lighter.
As a Christmas gift in 2007, York received a G36C and a tan trenchcoat. His girlfriend sent the trenchcaot and the G36C was a gift from his cousin who was working with a British Spec Ops team at the time.
Other: York is very good in short and medium range combat, but he isn’t very good with his sniper rifle or with any weapon in long range combat. Also, he reached the rank of Sergeant First Class when he was in the army. Both of his assault rifles have a single-shot setting. Also, York is not married but he does have a girlfriend.
History: York grew up Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. His mother and father had both lived in Pennsylvania their entire lives and wanted their son to grow up there too. York went to private school and got a very good education there. His father and mother were both lawyers and York dreamed of taking over the family business and becoming a lawyer. He loved the sport of basketball growing up and still loves it to this day. He made his high school basketball team and did well. York graduated high school one year early, due to the fact that he was very smart and was able to handle a few extra courses. Although York received many college scholarships, for academics and basketball, he decided to go into the army with his cousin just for a few years; then he would return home and go to law school. York made this decision based on three things: 1. His uncle and both of his grandfathers had served in the military at some point. 2. He wanted to see the world and figured that the military would be a good opportunity to see other parts of the country and/or other countries for free. 3. He loved his country so much and respected the soldiers that defended it. York was a little scared to leave home for the military and almost backed out because of the fact that he could die on the battlefield. But his cousin was very convincing that everything would be fine and they would go through it all together. After only three or four months, York had made the decision to make a career in the military. His parents were a little sad to hear that their son was not going to take over the family business, but they supported his decision. They respected him, just as he had always respected them. After completing basic training, York was sent out on his first mission. Three squads of four were going to infiltrate a terrorist filled complex, in which secret plans were held, one squad at a time. Whichever squad found the plans first, were to radio the other two and tell them to get out ASAP. Because he was an inexperienced rookie who had never seen battle before, York was sent in with the third and final squad to enter. This squad was to be dropped in the center of the complex and draw attention. This squad was expected to die. Each of the four men were given an M16 and only an M16; no sidearm. The mission was a success. York was the only member of his squad who lived through it. He had numerous wounds, one in the left shoulder, one in the left side, and one in the right foot. York was awarded a Purple Heart for his bravery. When he finally recovered from his wounds, York was stationed at a small base just outside of Dallas, Texas. He was 23 until he finally was called on another mission. He and seven others were to attack a base in Los Angeles where Don Dominico Garcia was training future terrorists. The mission was not a success. Although, they killed most of the guards, the soldiers never made it inside to where Garcia was. Three of the eight were wounded badly, two of the eight were killed, one of the eight was traumatized badly from the blood, and only two returned home completely normal; one of which was York. Two months later, York was sent back to kill Garcia, this time as the leader of the squad. The mission was a success this time. Garcia was killed and only two of the eight men died; all of the others returned home safely. York received two medals for his leadership. At age 24 he was sent to Iraq with thirty-nine other men. The fourty men were divided into Alpha Squad and Bravo Squad. York was the leader of Alpha Squad. The teams were dropped a few miles outside of Baghdad. They entered the city with only thirty-eight men, because two members of Bravo Squad had been sniped on the way in. The teams decided to split up. Only ten minutes after parting, Bravo called for assistance. York asked for their location via radio, but no one answered. York almost led his team into an ambush, but he saw it coming, and he made his team retreat. Once they were safely on the outskirts of Baghdad, York called Command on his radio and informed them that Bravo Squad had been slaughtered in an ambush. Command told them to wait for backup. York ended up establishing a camp outside the city. When no backup came after a week, he led his team into the city alone. They withstood numerous attacks, and they even destroyed a tank with some C4. Finally, after a month, the team was almost out of food and water. They sent for a helicopter but when it arrived, York and his team were busy fighting off an ambush and they missed their helicopter. They had to wait two more days. That was too long. By the time the helicopter came, York and one other member were the only men left. All the others had been killed. York received a Distinguished Service Cross for his bravery and heroism.
RP Sample: York looked around the corner of the wall to see if the train had arrived. It hadn't, but it was pretty hard to tell in the afternoon sun. York reached into his dark brown overcoat and pulled out his sunglasses. He put them on and looked again, even though he was sure it wouldn't be there. When he saw that the train had not arrived yet, he turned and leaned against the wall once again. He'd been waiting here for almost three hours and was getting a little impatient. York pulled a pack of Newport cigarettes from his pocket and lit up a cigarette with his lighter. He felt like he was being watched. York stared at each of the people going by, hoping that he hadn't missed his target.
'What if he came on an earlier train' York thought.
York finished his cigarette, dropped it on the ground and stepped on it to put it out. York peeked around the corner again- still no train. York pulled his cell phone out of his coat and checked the time. It was 2:34 and the train was scheduled to arrive at 2:40. He turned to look at the paper stapled to the bulletin board next to him. It had quite a few notices on it, but none of them had anything to do with the trains being off schedule. York pushed off the wall with his left heel. He looked around the corner again, and still no train. York walked over to a man in a black pin-stripe suit who was reading the newspaper.
"Excuse me sir," York said to the man, "but would you happen to know if the next train is going to be late or not?"
The man looked up from the newspaper and looked at York. "I believe that it is to be on time," the man said.
"Thanks."
York walked back over to the wall and looked for the train once more before leaning back against it... again.
"This is ********' annoying," York muttered to himself.
Suddenly, York heard a loud noise. He turned to look around the corner. The train was pulling into the station. York turned and started walking towards the tracks. York heard every noise. Every little sound hit his ears like a bus. He heard everything. York looked at his phone. It was 2:42.
'Your late' York thought to himself.
York stopped about twenty yards away from the train. He reached into his coat and felt around. He first felt his F2000. Then he felt his Walter P99. York had a tough decision. He didn't want to use his assault rifle because it was pretty big and would attract a lot of attention, but he was worried that his P99 was not quite powerful enough. York decided to see how close he could get before he chose a weapon. The train doors opened and two business men walked out. Neither fit the description of his target. These men were followed by an older women and two children. Then what looked like two tourists. Then came his target. A black man wearing a black leather jacket and jeans. The man was holding a brief case. He had some stubble and a buzz cut. This was the spy York was looking for. York got a great idea as soon as he saw the brief case. York walked over to him slowly and as soon as he got close enough, darted at him, grabbed the brief case out of his hand, and ran to the men's restroom. He opened the door and shut it on the man. When the man followed him in, York hit him with the brief case and pulled out his pistol as the man fell. The man tried to get up, but York kicked him in the side as he shot him twice: once in the upper right chest and once in the forehead. York dragged the body into one of the stalls and sat it on a toilet. York made sure that no one was in the bathroom and then walked out with his target's briefcase. York didn't wait around to see if someone found the body. He jogged across the street and hid inside the Dunkin Donuts. He bought a coffee and drank it as he waited for his ride.

Name: Frederick Kard (Goes by Kard)
Appearance: 24 years old, 5'9", 168 lbs. Long brown hair, normally tied in a ponytail with stray hairs falling across his face, almost sharp looking gray eyes. Medium build, but well defined musculature with a high cheekboned face. Favoring to dress in dark colors, specifically blacks and dark blues. His favorite outfit is black jeans, black steel toe boots, a longsleeved shirt, and a black sleeveless combat vest, with stitched insignia of a yinyang with wings going across the back. Has a red and blue swirling tattoo swirling from the middle finger of his right hand all the way up his arm to his left shoulder, and a heart shaped locket around his neck, which he rarely shows openly.
Personality: Kard is very calculating, he seems outwardly very quiet, although he will talk when talked to, and has a fiery temperment and can be quickly angered at times, which can get him into trouble with authority figures. He can be cynical, and always has a quip to add to a conversation. He cares strongly for friends, and absolutely hates people who use their authority to oppress innocent people. However, he is incredibly self conscious though, deep inside he doubts his own powers, and he's quick to blame himself when things go wrong. He's very good at analyzing a situation under pressure and making a tactical move, however he doesn't perform well in open areas without much cover to hide in. He enjoys solitude often, however his curiosity leads him into social situations more than a need to be around people.
Belongings: Kard doesn't carry much with him, barring a few clothes which he leaves at wherever he stays. He perfers to get what he needs when he needs it. He carries a small pack to carry whatever he brings along for a particular mission. He always carries dual MP5K sub machine guns, strapped to his legs, two Glock 9mm pistols, strapped to his upper body, throwing knives, their holders stitched into his vest, two large daggers, and a semi-auto SKS rifle. In the pockets of his combat vest are spare clips for each gun, ammo for each gun separated into it's own pocket, minimal first aid supplies, and flares. In his locket there is a picture which he never shows anybody.
Other: A martial arts and blade fighter, Kard specializes in mid range and close-quarters combat and infiltration.
History: Frederick Kard was a rather timid child when he was younger. He kept to himself and focused on his studies, and so he was regularly ridiculed by his classmates. His father, an ex marine and martial artist himself, had always taught him to value friends and the lives of innocents, but when he learned of what was happening to his son, he brought it up with some of the other children's parents. However, Kard and his father discovered that the parents were just as rotten as his children, and Kard's dad got into a fight with the other kid's dad. the other kid's father drew a knife on his, but Kard's own father disarmed and knocked out the guy so fast it looked like one fluid motion. After that, young Frederick begged his father to show him how to fight, and he did, but only after making him swear that he would not use it to exert power over weaker people. As Frederick Kard grew up, learning to fight, his timidity faded away, and in high school he met a young girl with whom he fell in love. However, in his junior year, his father died of a heart attack. Distraught, the only thing that kept him going was his love, the two of them promised to marry each other after high school. In their senior year however, his love disappeared, she was found two weeks later, beaten, raped, and dead. Kard seemed to have lost most of his joy, any smile that came from him seemed fake and he became far quicker to anger. He graduated and went into the military and because of his tendancy to block out his memories of his lost love by focusing wholly on combat, became quickly well known for how well he performed in his missions. He was integrated into a spec-ops unit, but before his first mission he got into a fight with his C.O. and broke his wrist, his nose, and his leg in three places, and was expelled from service, the commander forgoing jailtime in light of past services. After that, Kard went into the mercenary business, liking it far better, since he got to pick and choose what jobs he took instead of receiving set-in-stone orders. Eventually he heard of the Black Templars, and thought it would make his job easier (and better paying) to join.
RP Sample:All his spare ammo spent, he left his two empty machine guns on the ground, Kard ran through the abandoned office, head low, ducking under desks. Enemy fire rained down over him in a cascade of lead. As he ran he looked to his left, counting. "One... Two..." He got to six. He had to do something he was running out of space. He cut left, ducked behind a desk, closed his eyes, drew one of his Glock 9mm pistols from it's sidearm holster, and listened. He heard the firing coming from his left decrease, an overly loud click as the clip fell from a gun, the guy was close. He whipped around the desk in a low, almost spiderlike crouch as he fired two shots into the man's kneecap. The man fell, screaming, dropping his weapon. The firing paused as they looked at their fallen comerade. Now! Was the one thought that screamed through his mind. Kard laid on his back, shooting out the flourescent lights one by one. the men ducked from the rain of glass, and Kard was on his feet in a second, pulling out one his daggers in the hand that wasn't holding the Glock. He rushed out in the pitch darkness, ramming another of the enemies, sinking his dagger into the man's chest up to the hilt, the man's death scream drew the attention of the other four men, they fired blindly in Kard's direction. Holding his gurgling victim up by the dagger in his chest, Kard used the man's body as a shield, ducking low reaching around with his pistol and firing four shots in the direction of the bursts of light from the guns. Three fell, he missed a shot, the survivor screamed in rage, as though screaming would make his bullets more destructive. Kard pulled the bloodsoaked dagger from his victim's corpse, Kard spun, running in the darkness down on the right side of the isle, ducking under shots. the bullets acted like a strobe, making him seem faster, more ghostly, as he ran behind the men and slit his throat. The man fell to the ground with a splash of blood. Kard stood for a moment, breathing heavily, then he heard something else, another click sound behind him. He ducked to the left just in time, bullets flew again, a round piercing his right shoulder. He gnashed his teeth, angry with himself. The first guy! How could he forget that the man hadn't died! He'd somehow crawled to a gun and began firing again. His right arm wouldn't be able to aim his gun, and he couldn't shoot for s**t with his left, he had to try his knives. Kard drew three throwing knives from the lining of his vest with his left hand, blood running down his other arm. He ran around the opposite side of the desk and threw one the knives, he missed the man's head. "s**t." he muttered, ducking fire again. He knew he couldn't throw with his left hand. Gritting his teeth, he moved his right hand and took the knives, he spun around the desk again and flung the knife. Pain shot through his arm, and the knife struck the man between the eyes. Finally alone, Kard drew some gauze from his first aid pack, wrapped his shoulder tightly, and pulled out his radio. "Area clear." He said before dropping the radio to his side, listening to the crackling static.

Name: Brian P. Landry
Appearance: He is about 5' 7", 140lbs, 25 years old; Brown long hair usually worn in a ponytail fashion. His main clothes are the SpecOps/SEALs armor or jumpsuit with a tactical vest housing all of his attachments and magazines. His pants are black cargo pants wihich also hold magazines and the like. He wears a belt holding rings for the grenades and holster for his Px4, and on his pant leg on his thigh is a sheath for his combat knife. He wears a shoulder harness for his beretta 92FS and two ankle holsters for his beretta Tomcats. His build is average to muscular, and his eyes are hazel. His skin is tan/olive, and he looks like a Sicilian after a days hard work.
Personality: Brian is quiet, although he isn't shy. When he becomes friends with someone, he usually talks to them a lot. When he talks other than to his friends, it is usually witty or military-related. He thinks of most everyone as targets, which gives him an edge in combat. He doesn't think of them as "People with emotions" and so he doesn't let emotion get in the way. He does his job and does it efficiently. In some ways he is Sociopathic, like during a mission when killing someone has to be thought as only part of his job. He cares not for the emotions nor the possible families the target leaves behindor has, as the target brought it upon themself to be killed. In his jobs he has had friends and enemies, but he never shows hatred nor sadness.He doesn't have many emotions which show, and if they do, they are joy or anger, and you can tell when he becomes angry at you or something else when his eyes became slightly more open and his face looks extremely stern.
Belongings: He owns Beretta made firearms. These include the new Cx4 Storm (with silencer, laser, flashlight, etc.), the Px4 Storm(Flashlight, silencer, laser, etc.), the Rx4 Storm(silencer, laser, flashlight, etc.), One Beretta 92FS fully customized (Adding silencer, laser, flashlight, etc.), and two backup Beretta Tomcats(Silencers, lasers, flashlights, etc.). He carries a black combat knife, and has room for his grenades. Usually on a mission he would take two or three frags, one or two smokes, and three flashbangs. Along with those are two phosphorus grenades, and in a pocket are his two thermite "mines." He has a walkie-talkie attached to his shirt so he could quickly talk to HQ. He also has a set of nightvision goggles which he usually has attached to helmet. He also has a multi-use knife with wirecutters attached and a lockpick set. The MUK is in a leg pocket and the lockpick set is in his pack. He only carries what he needs with him at the time. He doesn't carry all weapons and attachments around as if he wore them to work or something, he only takes what is needed for the job and keeps the rest at home. Or, in this case, in a locker.
Other: He is a very silent guy. I mean this in two different ways. One is he doesn't talk much unless to friends. The other is that he can move with minimal detection. He is very good at covering his tracks and can move in the shadows silently and mostly unseen, unless by a wary enemy. He always takes out the enemy when his back is turned and stabs his throat. Any military organization he has worked in has used his skills to infiltrate, sabotage, and kidnap.
History: Landry was born into a regular famnily. He went to school and learned math and everything. His parents had a decent amount of money, and so they put some into a savings account. He went through the years, first showing his aptitude for silence in his third year of elementary school, when he would sneak up on people and scare them. He went on through school, slowly working on his sneaking ability as he grew up by practicing at night, walking around, and being quiet. He was able to run silently at 8th grade, hardly making noise, or if there was any, you couldn't hear it from five-six feet away. He graduated High School, then knowing how to sneak around quite effectively. He was sent to college, but his grades and interest in college were poor, and he left to join the military. He was in active duty, for about three years, and after he was through his tour of duty, he went back to join the Navy SEALS, going past HellWeek, and all with no thoughts of quitting. He was sent to a team of SEALS, where he shined as an expert infiltrator. He was promoted and became a SEALS Team Leader, where he led many teams in and out of enemy-controlled areas, and brought them back alive. He left the SEALs after four years, and went on to different horizons. He kept his sneaking sharp by quietly walking around places. His parents died during the first year after he left, in an automobile accident, where in the will, it left him the house and everything inside, as well as all of the money they had. He spent some of it on weapons, buying some new guns, and some on training equipment, to keep his strangth up. The rest was put into savings to accumulate interest. He took out interest to eat and get gas along with other necessities, but also took out some to buy other things. He had kept his uniform and gear from the Navy SEALs, and had it in a compartment in his room, where he kept it secret.
RP Sample:
Group Mission Alpha
Operation: Black Mamba
Landry's squad in the Navy SEALS was sent to Chile to take out a rebel leader heading an outfit of terrorists and sabotaging civilian buildings in the cities.
They started out in the armory, grabbing the MP5's and H&K USPs and their outload of ammo. Each member grabed nightops goggles and attached another set of Thermals onto their belts. They were dressed in "wetsuits" or skintight outfits designed to make little noise. The team headed out to the hangar where the transport was awaiting them. A Ship.
As they piled aboard, the greeter told them to go into the raft hangar. None spoke and all went to the rafts. The engines churned, the turbines churned, sending the water back, propelling the water back, moving the ship forward. They head out to sea towards the country of Chile.
As they came from the East of Lebu, Landry told them their mission, as the team piled into a SEALS raft.
Our mission is to infilitrate the Headquarters of a small Terrorist organization. Theses terrorists have been destroying government and civilian property and have cost Chile many lives. They pose a threat to the peaceful government of chile and Chile's parliament has asked America to step in and put an end to the bombings. We are to first infiltrate the headquarters quietly, and then proceed on to take out the Leader. Our secondary objectives consist of retrieving any intel from computers located on-site, and sending them back home for analysis. We are to go in and come out virtually unnoticed, so try to keep casualties down. Knock them out if you have to, but try not to get too much red tape on this. Lock and Load boys, we're going in. Send out the rappel wire and head to ground, we are about two miles from the outskirts of town. The HQ is near the West coast where they get shipments of weapons and cargo from outside influences. Remember: If we take out the head, the body has nothing to follow. Good luck men, I expect all of us on this chopper when we leave.
The raft was sent from the ship, heading into the shore. The moon illuminated the scenery, a beach with some trees and shrubbery. The engine quietly propelled them forward, unknown to all. The team landed on the shores, and hopped out of the raft. They pulled it into an area where bushes were plentiful and could hide the raft. They moved forward...
They walked through a small tropical forest, not very thick, maybe about 20 trees thick, circling the city inside. Their target was in the city of Lebu.
As the team reached the outskirts of the city of Lebu, Landry put up a fist for them to halt and kneel, and he took out his binoculars. He searched the area and found no patrolling guards outside, but thought the wiser and assumed guards were inside the city and possibly a couple outside where he couldn't see. He ordered the team to move forward, each still covering a sector and made their way to the first building of the actual city.

Name: Kurt Nageyon
Appearance:Kurt is a twenty five year old man. At a mere five foot eight, Kurt is relatively short compared to the other soldiers. He makes up for the shortness with his strength. Even though his muscles look like an average soldier's, he is extremely strong for his height. Kurt also weighs a tiny 160lbs. Kurt has dark black hair that is naturally straight and is grown out past his eyes an inch and is cleanly cut to his shoulders. He has dark green eyes that are slightly slanted because he his half Japanese. When Kurt is in the barracks or lounging around he has his civilian clothes on. These clothes are usually a dark band shirt that include:Metalica, Iron Maiden, and other metal bands. Over his shirt, is a short black or white jacket that is ALWAYS unzipped. He also wears slightly baggy dark blue jeans. In battle or a war zone (on duty basically) he has regular camouflage pants and a dark shirt. Over his shirt, he wears a camouflage button up jacket, that is again ALWAYS unbuttoned. The camouflage will vary for missions. For example, if it is a desert mission, he will wear desert camou. If it is a forest mission, he will wear forest camou. Etc.
Personality: When off duty, Kurt is a rocker. He loves to have fun and will make jokes about everything. He also takes things very lightly. On the contrary, he knows when to settle down. On duty, he is serious and acts and thinks quickly. He is very smart and can think fast under pressure. He is loyal to his friends and comrades, and will never leave without everyone. Not even if that person is dead. He will follow orders to the best of his abilities. He will ask people about something if he doesn't get it until he does get it. Kurt will help others as much as he can. Kurt knows how to prioritize.
Belongings: As for Kurt's hand to hand weapons, he has a 6inch switchblade that his father gave him. Also, he has a 9inch blade that comes out of his arm sleeve with a pull of a trigger on the inside of his sleeve.((If thats ok with you Xenos.)) As for firearms, he owns twin Desert Eagles. They each have an ammo capacity of 7 .50 caliber bullets. He made both upgraded so that they are accurate to a medium distance, by elongating the barrel an inch. He also has an XM8 Assault Rifle. The XM8 has multiple variants. The first variant, is an assault rifle. This is like any other assault rifle. He can put a scope on it, and make it a sniper rifle. The scope has optical zoom in it, making it a great sniper. If Kurt puts a barrel clip in it, and pulls out the bipod, he can have an automatic rifle. The automatic barrel has a 100 round capacity. All other variants have a ten or 15 round clip with 7.62mm NATO rounds. There is also, a grenade attachment. This attachment shoots 40mm. grenades. He can hold 4 of these at a time. As for personal possessions, he has a picture of his family. He also has his clothing. ((obviously)) Since he left Japan in a hurry, he left many of his positions.
Other: All Kurt's life, he was enrolled in commando type hand to hand combat and Kung-Fu.
History: Kurt was born into a troubled family. When Kurt was 6, he was taken from his family, and put into an intensive training boarding school in Japan that taught unruly children from bad neighborhoods how to defend themselves. he was in this until he was 16. When he turned 16, he had a choice to stay, or leave. He chose to leave. When he went home, he found out that an Asian mafia family, called the Ucatay, had killed his family during a drug raid on a rival family while he was gone. He swore revenge against them. But, he went back to the school for a year to learn all that he could. The loss of his family was too much though and he became a disciplinary problem so was forced to leave. For two years, he was an urchin. During this time, he met up with a Japanese mafia family, called the Yazuma, that was at war with the rival Ucatay. Kurt joined up in the Yazuma, and rose thew the ranks because of his teachings as a martial artist and an overall good fighter and assassin. One day, the Ucatay was spotted in a warehouse for a drug trade. This was Kurts time to take revenge. He and a small squad of underground soldiers invaded a large warehouse where the Ucatay was known to have drug dealings and other mafia issues. Kurt was put in invited on the mission, because of his personal hate for the Ucatay. They invaded and took out the crime boss as well as his higher officials. The plan was a success, and Kurt was a high ranking member of the Yazuma. He was now nineteen. The Yazuma was slowly being taken down by an Italian crime family coming into Japan on, trying to expand their influence. Kurt had to get away from the Italians who were trying to "clean up" Japan. He and the Yazuma, waged bloody wars, and Kurt was in various missions until his twenty fifth birthday. On this day, he moved to America, fleeing the Italian crime family. Now he is in the Black Templars.
RP Sample: Kurt had been running for what seemed like two hours. in reality, it was fifteen minutes. No matter how tired he was, he kept running at a steady pace of fifteen kilometers and hour. The four men chasing him stopped running, and took out 9mm. pistols and shot at him. One bullet scrapped his calf and hurt like hell. He jumped up onto a small ledge on a building and then hid behind it, to take cover. The four men stopped to look for him, but couldn't see him anywhere. While he was on the roof, he picked up one of the houses shingles and saw a decent sized switchblade. The four men were coming up on the roof where he was. The first man got a hand on the roof, and Kurt stabbed it. The man screamed in pain, and started shooting his gun into the air. The other three, were still waiting for their friend to get onto the roof. Kurt peeked his hands over to the man that was almost on the roof and broke his neck. Kurt took his blade out of the man's hand, and he fell to the ground. The other three , walked back a bit from the house and saw Kurt. All three of the men opened fire, but luckily they didn't hit. When they were reloading their 9mm., Kurt jumped behind one and slashed the man's neck and took his gun. The other two looked just in time to see their comrade fall. One man yelled at Kurt with a slight Italian accent, "You would be a good soldier, surrender now, and you can join us. If you say no, then..." he said as he cocked the gun. Kurt slowly put the gun down and then put his hand towards the man as if to shake his hand. The man hesitated a bit, but then took his hand. Kurt shook it for a little and then twisted it quickly. He turned the man to face his companion as a shield. "Don't shoot, or you friend here dies!" Kurt shouted as he pulled the gun and the man being Kurt's shield. "Why do I care if he dies?" said the Italian as he shot his friend in the leg. The man groaned in pain, but Kurt covered his mouth. Without thought, Kurt shot the last remaining Italian hit man between the eyes. They both dropped at the same time. Kurt just left them where they were, with there guns beside them. It would look like a suicide, or they all turned against each other, he wore gloves on every mission. He walked toward the Tokyo airport, and bought a plain ticket for America. He needed to think for a little.

Name: Mark O'Hanlon
Appearance: Mark, who is about to turn 27, measures in roughly at 173lbs and 5'11". He keeps his dark brown hair short to medium length just to blend in better. He has piercing dark green eyes, broad shoulders and slim hips, a larger torso and medium sized legs. His muscle tone is good all around, and built more for endurance than overall strength. He is not only able to hold up his own body weight for extended periods of time, but due to constant exercising, he is also more flexible than normal, able to flex his knees, hips, elbows and shoulders about 15 percent farther than average.
For attire, he has two seperate sets of clothing, for off hours, and of course for combat.
During off hours, he sports dark jeans and t-shirts. He owns a flight jacket, but it has no significance. He'll wear civilian clothing in combat sometimes if its in a developed urban area or first world area, simply to blend in. He only wears military fatigues in pre-determined combat areas. Sporting several different types, ranging from Vietnam-era tiger stripe, to modern 3-color desert BDU's used by the US military. He prefer's not to use newer military ACU's since velcro is noisy, and its also an American design, which would make him a High Value Target in the battlefield.
Personality: Mark generally tries to act professional most of the time, more often to hide his uncertainty. He has found himself to excel in the field through hard work, insatiable curiosity and brutal honesty. Though he is quick to be personable, and if he likes someone will be a friend for life, it only lasts to a degree. He prefers to be quiet, instinctive, and observant. He has a strange and slightly dark sense of humor that seems to thrive while on a mission. He is not neccessarily ambitious, but he does possess a drive to get the job done, living from contract to contract.
Belongings: Combat: For Firearms, Mark owns a Px4 Storm Type G. A sidearm with a threaded barrel to fit a standard silencer and a 13 round 9x19mm HP box magazine. He also owns a civilian model of an MN-23. A semi-automatic bullpup rifle sporting the 5.56x45mm NATO M855 round in 30 round box magazines. He also bought a reflex sight for the picatinny rail on top and surefire red light underneath the barrel. For more clandestine operations, he owns a G38. A Semi-Auto Rifle with scope and silencer. The parts seperate enough so that they can be fitted into a foil-lined suitcase. The ammo is 7.62x51mm NATO M993, in a 10 round box magazine. For personal defense he carries a knife. For personal gear, its often changed depending on the mission, but he always carries a thermal imaging scope, especially during night missions or low visibility missions. For missions involving Chemical or Biological Weapons, he'll sport the MCU-2/P Mask. He prefers to take at least four small thermite charges with him on any mission, usually an an impromptu breaching mechanism or to disable military equipment.
Personal: Mark owns personal clothing, such as dark jeans, all american brands. He owns several different items of clothing for different purposes, including sweats for daily PT, a habit he hasn't gotten out of since his stint in the military. He drives a Jeep Wrangler Unlimited, colored in Metallic Green. He also stows survival and mountain climbing gear in the back, including equipment to fix the Jeep. He has a Mountain Bike Strapped to the top of the Jeep. He owns his own PDA, with MP3 and GPS capabilities. The rest of his possesions remains in his residence.
Other: Currently practices several martial arts. He is most experienced in Krav Maga and Eskrima Stick Fighting. He also takes Yoga for spiritual purposes. He briefly took guitar lessons just to give himself an extra hobby to do, and even owns an acoustic guitar, but he has occupied himself with other thigns he feels are more important. He is also First Aid and CPR certified.
History: Mark started off his early adolescence hovering near poverty in South Boston. His parents were never affluent, one a school teacher, the other a state police officer. When he was 16, they even lived out of their car for a month, about the time he was supposed to get his own car. This left a large mark on his life. And seeking to never have to worry about money, He joined up into the Marine Corps, where he served in Kosovo as part of the NATO peacekeeping and humanitarian force. It was here that his ideals seemed to clash with harsh reality. He watched atrocites, such as genocide by the KLA, and sheer neglect, or ignorance on the part of NATO. The fact that he could do nothing to stop this, or help those in need, wore at him until he finally mustered out, cynical and bitter.
He chose not to re-enlist, instead he focused on using his GI Bill and graduated from Anna Maria College with a Bachelor's in both Social Psychology and Political Science. Preferring to better himself before bettering the rest of the world.
After college, he was hit with a dilemma. He had no idea what he wanted to do with his life next. He had few skills that could help him outside of the military, but he soon found out how lucrative living as a contract soldier could be. He also learned that working such a business allowed him the freedom and money he enjoyed, and alowed him to actually get things done much easier and faster than standard military procedures. He even worked with Blackwater USA for a brief tenure before quitting due to personal reasons.
He currently owns a two-story house in Hughesville, Maryland and has no dependents. He attends a local YMCA for swimming and Martial Arts classes held there regularly. He also maintains a stock portfolio, mostly including small shares of local businesses to help the community, but he also has a large share in Coca-Cola. Its an heirloom unto itself, dating back to the 1940's. One particular business he's been keeping track of is the Sing Tao News Corporation which he has a share in.
RP Sample:
"Okay, whats next."
"Hmm, ah there's one, soviet bloc red building, second floor, third window from right."
Mark was laying prone amidst a pile of rubble, peering out a small hole that he could barely fit his arm into. The hole was evidently made by a 25mm round from the M3 Bradley's cannon. And the regular military had rolled through less than a week ago, but his concern was the abundance of snipers left behind. He took the contract mostly because it came with 50k all up front, but also because this one was a fairly simple job. He didn't even have to shoot this time. The burlap bag next to him shifted a little for the shot, and let the barrel of the man's sniper rifle poke out.
"Range?"
"Hm, 450 yards"
"Okay"
Mark heard 3 tics to his right, then watched as the barrel he had caught in the window turned, slowly, as if scanning, until it stopped, almost aiming right at him. He could have sworn he caught sight of the man's teeth creep into a grin before he heard the shot ring out. Without even thinking, and barely registering the fact that the man to his right had spasmed violently, Mark grabbed his own rifle, and rolled behind a larger part of the brick wall so he could sit leaning against it. He then remembered his partner, who was still laying down where he had been shot.
"Dom, hey, you okay?"
The lack of response told him nothing good. The newer prescence of voices told him even worse. He knew he had to finish this quick. Thinking just as fast, he picked up a larger brick, ans hurled it past his partner as far as he could, then poked his rifle over the left side of the wall and quickly found his target. Just as the he hoped, the sniper had followed the brick that he threw simply as a reflex. But before he could change his mistake, he had a rifle round burrow into his temple.
Mark breathed a sigh of relief just as the voices made themselves corporeal in the form of four bearded men sporting Hakim Rifles and a G3A3.
Mark noticed them right before they noticed him. They all swung their rifles towards him and yelled something at him in Russian. He figured it meant 'Drop the weapon and get your hands in the air.' to which he did exactly that. They all moved slowly closer to him until they all had their rifles within a foot of his head. He looked at the man with the G3, who got into a tighter stance and squeezed his trigger. Mark winced for a second before realizing he wasn't dead. And then noticed the confused look on the guys face.
Mark took this opportunity to grab the barrel of the G3 and the owner's shoulder. And ducked in behind him, kicking the back of the man's knee so he lost balance, then unsheathed his knife and used the flat edge to pull him back up by his neck, all in one fluid movement. The man in his grasp tried to pull Mark's arm away, but really had no idea what to do. Instead of calming down and reversing it on him, he just yelled out in russian, like he was giving orders. But the other three were shaking, unsure what to do.
Mark took this opportunity to use his free hand to unholster his sidearm, and underneath the man's right arm, he squeezed the trigger twice, the rounds hit one square in the center mass, causing him to fall back into the second one. The third was already on his way towards him with a large knife, probably a Bowie or some russian knock-off. Mark turned his hostage around and still held the knife next to his jugular, but he was bent over in front of him, arm held with Mark's pistol hand, facing towards him to create a buffer zone, while Mark akwardly aimed his pistol at the man, who hesitated long enough to take a round in the stomach, and fell to one knee. Mark let go of the hostage's hand long enough to hit him in the base of the neck with the butt of his pistol, knocking him out.
He rushed towards the only uninjured man left, who was just getting his friend off him and was getting up when Mark caught his arm in the man's opposite armpit and got enough leverage to lift him up, but only long enough to slam him right back down towards the ground, head first.
He took a quick look around, making sure they were either bleeding out or unconscious. Then reholstered his weapons, picked up his rifle, and ran over to his partner. He shook him at first, but couldn't get any response. Finally he noticed the pool of blood around the front, and lifted his hood up to reveal the gaping hole in the man's head.
"Well, I guess we can rule out an open casket buddy."
A thought suddenly popped into his head. He ran back over towards the four assailants, and grabbed all of their weapons, and stacked them on top of each other. He then took out a thermite disc and placed it on the top, positioning it so that some vital part of the gun would be melted by the material.
Thirty seconds later, he was half dragging his partner away from the building, half preoccupied with his radio, and was calling in to be airlifted out.