Ratlines and Relics [OOC / OPEN]

[Reverend Norv]

Vilen is accepted, and he and Eva have been added to the Dramatis Personae.

[Akordania]

EDIT: McIntyre's complete.

Name: First Sergeant Bradford H. McIntyre

Age: 40

Gender: Male

Appearance: Image

McIntyre wears a perpetual frown on his weathered face. His bloodshot blue eyes reflect a lifetime of grisly warfighting, and subsequently a mind long devoid of idealism. He retains a well-kempt head of raven hair that is slowly giving way to grey. Although he indeed wears his years, he carries an overwhelming air of authority and determination.

Employment: 6th Armored Infantry Battalion, 6th Infantry Regiment, 1st US Armored Division

---

Personality: McIntyre is gruff, irreverent, and embittered; yet he continually provides his company of Joes with unrivaled qualities of servant leadership. He has a notoriously quick temper for incompetence and insubordination, but remains a tireless advocate for the welfare of his troops. In combat, McIntyre's sole focus is the maximization of enemy casualties, while taking as little of his own as possible. As the company first sergeant he has stood up to the CO and his superiors on countless occasions in which he felt his Joes were being utilized as cannon fodder. His career progression has ground to a halt as a result. He is a black sheep "Top" by all accounts.

Fears: "I tell you what. Know what's scared me the most outta anything? It wadn't the shelling...nor the snipers. It's the fact that one day I'm gonna be too old for this job. One day I'm gonna have to hang this uniform up. See, this uniform's my life. I ain't never had a skillset 'sides what Uncle Sam has taught me. There's a part of me that hopes some cocky Kraut comes up and blasts me, 'fore I'm forced to do the thing myself."

Hobbies: "If I ain't snuffing out Germans or kicking some young soldier's ass all around the barracks, I'm knocking back hooch and enjoying a nice, fat lip full of chaw. There ain't a thing that brings me deeper satisfaction, except maybe whores. That's between you and me, though."

Skills: "I've been told I've got a knack for being the 'Shirt'. I raised this company from the deepest scum pits and whipped them into the meanest, most squared away bastards in the whole Fifth Army. I'm good at it 'cause I was in their place once, these soldiers. I know what drives them. I know what needs to be looked after, and what needs restriction. I'm willing to hear any of 'em out, just as much as I'm willing to hand out punishments of all hellish kinds to those who cross me. I'm a hell of a good fighter, too, even in my older age. After a great overabundance of shooting and stabbing, a man soon learns how to regulate his own adrenaline, and more importantly how to have a cool head in even the most dire of situations."

Weaknesses: "I reckon my greatest pleasures are also my greatest downfalls. The whorin' and drinkin' will surely catch up to me, at some point. I'd be lying if I said I was always sober by the beginning of each duty day, but I control it for the sake of my men. I've come too far to get the boot for something as foolish as being a drunkard in uniform. 'Sides...they need as many warm bodies as they can get for this occupation."

---

Birthplace: Claremore, Oklahoma

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Religion: Agnostic

---

Education (if any): Claremore High School
United States Army Basic Combat Training
United States Army Infantry School

Biography:

"I was born in Claremore, Oklahoma in 1906 to a doting mother and a violent drunk of a father. Like father, like son right?

"Anyway. Where was I going with this? Oh, right...point is, my childhood was forgettable. I stayed out of the house as much as possible to avoid the wrath of my father, who was in and out of work as an unskilled laborer. I got into a great deal of trouble as a result. Mostly fighting among my peers. I wasn't well-liked. At the time I was a tiny thing. Weak, stupid, and full of fear.

"Time flew down in Claremore, surprising as that is. What I do remember well was that we had gone to war, finally, with Germany and its allies in the spring of 1917. I was only eleven at that point, but I was more than willing to pick up a rifle and join ol' Black Jack Pershing as he made his way over there with his expeditionary forces. That was the first time I knew the United States Army was my destiny. There was no greater pride I felt than when I laid eyes upon the posters and headlines centered around the helmeted likenesses of American soldiers.

"My father finally walked out when I was fourteen, and my mother re-married. The fella was an oil driller from further south, but he elected to stay in town with us...said it was far more peaceful where we were. He was a hell of an upgrade for my mother. He provided for us. At the time, though, I wasn't ready to just up and forget about my father. Sure, he was a real son of a bitch, but he had his moments. I could never bring myself to truly love my stepdad, but I did respect him.

"I graduated high school in May of 1924 and was shipped out to Fort Benning, Georgia, for Basic Combat Training and Infantry School. My experience was every extreme; hotter and more humid than Satan's undersides, with Drill Sergeants to match. As time went on, the weather grew milder and I was long accustomed to the creative abuses of my superiors. I soon began to enjoy it. Each day was tightly scheduled and consistent. I was fed three times a day and always had someplace to sleep. We marched and sang and learned how to fight. The guys I was there with, well...we all got to be fast friends. They were from a variety of backgrounds. It was inspirin' seein' us all come together like that, and really depend on each other. Nothing else mattered 'sides the day's objectives, and you weren't accomplishing 'em alone.

"I credit the Army with my drinking habit. Four years as a young soldier at Leonard Wood'll do that to you. Long, hard days of incessant training or some kinda nonsense the 'Sirs' would task us with doing for lack of anything more pressing. We'd go out on the weekends and take out all of our frustrations on the bottle. Never led to anything good, I can assure you. Fights, whores, and the occasional run-ins with the Saint Robert Police Department. I met Blair on my way outta there.

"It was yet another trait I inherited from my father, I suppose. In retrospect I shoulda seen that one comin' from a mile away. I feel most sorry for the three little ones I left behind. The most they'll know of their old man will be the envelopes that show up every month in their mailbox. Blair can hate me all she wants, but one thing she'll never be able to say is that I didn't provide for those kids. They're part of me. They're probably the first and last thing I'll ever come to truly love.

"Blair was desperate to get out of her hometown and I was lonely. We quickly eloped and she followed me to my next two duty stations. Life on base wasn't exactly the lap of luxury; especially with the kind of pay I was getting. Difficult times- made worse by the fact that Blair and I really didn't know one another. It was hard to go home and see the end product of my daily labor, which was little more than a shack that struggled to stay upright; let alone accommodate my family. So I kept my focus on my work. I was the best soldier in my unit and always sought a means of fast-trackin' my career. I quickly ascended through the ranks. I had little competition, see, as the interwar Army was undermanned and underfunded. The only time I'd let up in my efforts was for a planned family dinner or the more common binge drinking session.

"By the time the war rolled around I was in such a horrific positionin' with my old lady that getting my head blown off on the front line seemed a merciful end. We left Fort Knox for Fort Dix in the Spring of '42. We staged there until we caught a ship out to Ireland through the Port of New York. A side note: even in light of the bombings, those spud-eatin' bastards had an ungodly capacity for all manner of debauchery. It's that god damned red hair. Anyway, it was a hazy six months 'till we found ourselves celebrating Christmas in North Africa.

"We marched on through hellish fighting across North Africa, then to Sicily, and eventually to mainland Italy. We lost a whole hell of a lot of good men along the way. That journey was my trial by fire as an NCO. At the beginning, I followed each and every order no matter the risks; exposing myself and my men to unnecessary danger that would eventually exact its toll. The brutal deaths of three soldiers in my company...boys, really, would be the first extinguished souls on my conscience. The image of those boys' contorted forms splayed out on the hot Tunisian sand played out in my mind's eye for the remainder of the campaign. It brought about a serious change of priorities. I no longer had stars in my eyes about campaign ribbons, nor the glorious cause. I realized that the generals and the rest of the gentleman's club couldn't give less of a hootin' shit about the lives of any of us out here on the front lines. All they see are battle lines, and if they ain't movin', there's hell to pay. It was my job to protect these boys. We'll accomplish the mission at hand, but I'll be damned if I spend their lives like lottery money. After numerous confrontations with my company commander, as well as his boss, the Colonel, I think I've made that point resoundingly clear. Didn't do much good for my career though. Captain Manchild isn't a threat. It's the 'full bird' that's got me questioning how long I'll keep my stripes. For now, though, it looks like he's deemed me worth the trouble. Hell, maybe he even respects me a little. Both of them can eat shit, as far as I'm concerned.

"So somehow we made it. After the German surrender at the Po Valley we were transferred to Germany to assist in the occupation. I haven't a clue as to how to police a civilian population, but if it's anything like handling my Joes in garrison, I believe I'll do a mighty fine job."

[Rudaslavia]

Will be working on my app once I get out of work at 5:00PM EST.

[Wolfenium]

I'm not going to lie, that app isn't happening. Got a whole lot busier, and I'm going to have to pull out. Sorry about that, Norv, and have fun, everyone.

[Agritum]

I'm not going to lie, that app isn't happening. Got a whole lot busier, and I'm going to have to pull out. Sorry about that, Norv, and have fun, everyone.

You're still great

[Barapam]

I'm not going to lie, that app isn't happening. Got a whole lot busier, and I'm going to have to pull out. Sorry about that, Norv, and have fun, everyone.

Seems it might be the same for me. With limited time, I think I can focus on only one rp at a time.

[Organized States]

Name: Stephen L. McCarthy

Age: 33

Gender: Male

Appearance: Like this, just perhaps with a suit.

Employment: Special Agent of Federal Bureau of Investigation, formerly Lieutenant Commander in the OSS Maritime Unit and Naval Intelligence Officer

---

Personality: Fiercely independent, private, and disinclined to follow orthodoxy in both Naval Service and Law Enforcement, McCarthy's maverick status has effectively landed him outside of the Bureau's traditional orbit and despite his suit and stoicism, he doesn't exactly fit with Mr. Hoover's vision of the Bureau.

Fears: While not having traditional fears (like failure or rejection), his recurring nightmares relating to wartime experiences could be attributed to Post-Traumatic Stress and he has struggled to keep his continuously escalating symptoms private.

Hobbies: An intense interest in history and a keen interest in philosophy

Skills: Skilled swimmer and runner in superb shape, conversant in Japanese and passing German, skilled martial artist and boxer, keen investigator, explosives expert, handy with a Colt .45

Weaknesses: Viewed by many of his counterparts as lacking a human touch, haunted by experiences from the Pacific, and a long-term inability to maintain meaningful romantic relationships.

---

Birthplace: Manila, Philippines

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: Mixed Irish and Australian Greek ancestry

Sexuality: Straight

Religion: Roman Catholic

---

Education (if any): University of Southern California, BS in History, 1934
Federal Bureau of Investigation's National Academy, 1935.

Biography:

Born to an American Navy Officer and an Australian Greek mother who had met in the hustle and bustle of pre-war Manila in the 1910s, Stephen Latsis McCarthy followed his father's Naval career in the Pacific Fleet throughout much of his early life. Raised in Honolulu, San Diego, Guam, and Manila, Stephen's multicultural upbringing and cosmopolitan life provided him with the ability to speak a variety of languages and granted him the opportunity to develop his talent and comfort in the water. This comfort and talent in the water quickly blossomed into an accomplished High School Swimming career upon his family's return to San Diego in 1926. After four years of state championships in the 100m Free-Style landed him at the University of Southern California, his penchant for languages and understanding of much of the Pacific led him to the University's history department, where he had initially held hopes of becoming an anthropologist studying the peoples of Austronesia. However, after his father's tragic heart-attack in 1933 and with his swimming scholarship soon coming to an end, he was forced to suddenly change paths upon graduation in 1934. He subsequently chose a career in the Federal Bureau of Investigation, one of the few places in the United States where his language skills were actively valued outside of academia. Detailed to the nascent Counter-Intelligence Division in 1936, he kept a close eye on members of the German-American Bund, the Naval Attaches at the Japanese Embassy in Washington, and the occasional enemy of Mr. Hoover.

The events of December, 1941 and January, 1942 shook Stephen to his core. The attacks on his childhood homes in the Pacific left him deeply angered and ardently in favor of the war with Japan. While he was in favor of war with the Japanese Government, the multicultural upbringing he had experienced in Honolulu and Guam had landed him numerous friends of Japanese ancestry and he found himself unable to participate and assist the Army in what he saw as the unjust round-up of Japanese-Americans on the West Coast. Specifically following "leads" that never materialized about Nazi 5th Columnists in Big Bear and Santa Barbara, he avoided participation in the roundups. Recognizing that his avoidance had landed him few friends in the Bureau's Southern California offices, the LAPD, and the Army, he chose to pursue a career in the Navy, being granted a commission in Naval Intelligence due to his experience in languages and investigative skills. His unorthodox and maverick nature won him few friends in the Office of Naval Intelligence's bureaucracy and he was soon recruited for a new program within the secretive Office of Strategic Services. The OSS Maritime Unit was a new, elite unit of commandos specially trained for swimming and amphibious infiltration operations alongside of the Navy's UDT Divers and the Marine Corps' Raiders. After completing an intense regime of physical training, swimming, demolitions, and combatives, McCarthy was shipped out to Australia and was designated as a team leader for a unit of OSS Raiders and UDTs that conducted armed reconnaissance and sabotage operations throughout the Southwest Pacific Area and Burma. While most of his activities within the OSS are carefully guarded, it is rumored that their exploits included the sabotage of vessels in Singapore Harbor, training and fighting alongside the Kachin Rangers, targeted assassinations of Japanese officers, and raids on outposts and airfields throughout the CBI and SWPA.

When the war finally ended in August and the OSS disbanded the following month, assets and personnel were distributed among the various successor agencies. Choosing to remain out of the host of successor agencies, McCarthy returned to the Bureau. His previous indiscretions against Mr. Hoover's boys weren't forgotten, however, and he now finds himself in a possible career ending posting, looking over the shoulder and "advising" the Provisional Government and looking for the occasional Communist.

[Reverend Norv]

McIntyre and McCarthy are accepted and added to the Dramatis Personae. And with those two very different Irish-Americans aboard, I will commence the IC this weekend.

[Danceria]

Hm, very interesting.

[Reverend Norv]

We have IC! My apologies for the delay, but I didn't want to start until I had everything plotted out - otherwise, how could I plant the right clues from the very beginning? Enjoy!

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

I'm writing up a post as we speak! I already enjoy the posts that have been written thus far. The atmosphere being created is very interesting.

I'm also reading into the history, to involve some historical figures (minor, of course). In the RPs timeline, the City Commander for Berlin will be replaced tomorrow, which I thought was rather neat.

[Rudaslavia]

Norv, would I still be able to apply and enter the RP a bit later?

[Rudaslavia]

Because this app is fucking juicy.

[Reverend Norv]

Sure, Rud. We can come to an arrangement.

[Sao Nova Europa]

Will be making a post either today or tomorrow morning.

[Reverend Norv]

Akordania, did you cowrite that last post with Nova Capile? Because otherwise, you are way out of line controlling his character like that.

[Akordania]

Just got my first post up! You'll notice that I included a brief interaction between Grawitz and McIntyre; naturally, I collaborated with Nova Capile on that segment.

Very excited to read everyone else's introductions!

[The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile]

Confirming that Akordania and I cowrote that segment of his post.

Also, I'm going to refrain from making an entire post of my own for now unless Grawitz is directly addressed (don't take that as plea for interaction, either, he only need be spoken to if the plot calls for it).

[Sao Nova Europa]

Posted finally.

[Lancearc]

Intro tomorrow! Apologies for the delay

[Reverend Norv]

Sounds good, Lanearc.

Also, Jesus Christ. Everybody say hello to Heinrich "Imma make a herrenvolk joke in November 1945" Schneider. You weren't kidding about his lack of social skills.

[Khasinkonia]

Posted. Hope it's alright; I'm trying to maintain the delicate balance with Eva!

[The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile]

Norv, would you mind adding a link to the IC to the OP?

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

Sounds good, Lanearc.

Also, Jesus Christ. Everybody say hello to Heinrich "Imma make a herrenvolk joke in November 1945" Schneider. You weren't kidding about his lack of social skills.

Oh god. The Germans are not going to get along at all, are they?

[Rudaslavia]

The challenging part of writing this app is justifying the awfulness of my character. He is a genuinely repulsive human being, but his bitterness and capacity for hate did not appear out of thin air. He was raised in a dysfunctional and politically-charged environment, and had experienced a lifetime's worth of trauma by the age of 10.

I expect it to be finished in the next couple days. I appreciate the patience, Norv.