» Sat May 28, 2011 12:59 pm Age: 32
Occupation: SWAT
Personality: Sarcastic. Cocky. Stubborn. He is the type of guy that exaggerates stories, “it wasn't just one guy, it was five and they all came up behind with hammers and shotguns, but luckily...”. He's never afraid of a confrontation and is usually the one to start it, he will always make a joke of the situation, even if it's a funeral. He's stubborn, he won't let go of something once he wants it and getting him to see your side will be very hard if you don't have a silver tongue.
Traits: Blunt and straightforward, not easily offended, hates smoking.
Height: 6'7
Weight: 250Ilbs
Appearance: George is a man made mountain, with broad shoulders and rippling muscles. He has short flame-red hair and magnificent handlebar mustache of the same shade. He is almost always smiling as shown from the creases in his face and his eyes are a bright green. His hand are about the same size and shape of spades, a scar runs up his left hand from ricochet. His complexion is a tanned one from spending hours outside and he has a a couple of scars across his torso.
Apparel: He wears his regulation LVPD SWAT outfit...A blue, long sleeve shirt with a tactical vest over top, reading Police across the chest and SWAT across the back. A matching blue cap completes the outfit.
Misc: SIG P210, 2x Clips of ammunition, the Bible
Nationality: Irish
Brief Bio: Was born in northern Montana, a farm boy. He spent most of his time on a ranch with his father after his mother drowned in a nearby lake. George and his father were always close and they formed a strong bond through activities like fishing, hunting, and horseback riding. George attended the local public school which was about fifteen miles, right next to town square. They didn't have the best supplies or top of the line equipment, but the children(mostly boys) learned what they needed from their fathers and mother since most never strayed far from home.
Unfortunately his father developed lung cancer and when he passed away, George could no longer run the ranch by himself and sold it. With no where to turn and no relatives to go to, George decided to enlist in the armed forces, which he hated. The war or wars had not really begun yet, anchorage was a far off thing, yet all was not calm and there was plenty of action. After seeing one of his friends killed by a landmine and another by a child with a frag grenade, George was glad when his tour was finished.
However, he was still unsure on what to do. He was thinking about going back home, but the country life no longer appealed to him, it moved to slow and was closed to the outside world. Instead he used the skills he knew and took the exam to make it into the Special Weapons and Tactics division of the Las Vegas Police Department.
He spent the last decade or two of his life in Vegas and has grown fond of it's warm streets and lights, it's druggies and hokers. Fortunes could be made or lost in an instant and it was in constant motion, a stark contrast to the country life. He loved it and his dream of returning home, he realized, was no longer a dream just a distance wish in the past.
Starting Point: The Strip( Controlling Riot )
ignore this post 
, don;t want you get left behind lol 
