Name: Seamus "Smiley" Burke
Sex: Male
Appearance:
He's got red hair, green eyes, and is never without a smile on his lips. Whether a toothy grin after a good guffaw, or a sharklike smirk before he pulls the trigger.
Bio: "Me granda' was a commander in th' Great War, but the fookin' Brits didn't want ta give 'im no comission or honorable discharge cuz he was a paddy, see? So he moves on o'er ta' the States, settles down, an' joined th' National Guard. When th' Flu happened, he was one o' the folk who reorganized into a military state, since 'e was already good at commandin'. Course, Kike Cann* was callin' the shots at th' time so the whole o' Minnesota was divided up between Cann's boys an' the Guard. Oi grew up like a lot o' these hicks out 'ere, shootin' the tops o' corn-ears by th' time Oi could walk. Difference bein' is tha' Grandad made sure we got military grade shite, not some o' the homemade peashooters Oi've seen in these yokel's 'ands. Any'ow, things between granda' an' the big cheese got heated, an' grandad got a cap in 'is head fer talkin' shite about 'im. Me da' got th' message, an' worked wit 'im ta make "Th' Upper Midwest a Safe and Sustainable Society"...Psh!"
"Now Oi worked fer Cann at the wee age of fourteen, helpin' wit the distillers an' occasionally gunnin' someone down. Didn't like it much but it's wha' everybody did. Me skills an' trainin' eventually found me as one o' his hitmen, so ye'd think "if he's the 'itman fer Kike, erm
Kidd Cann? Why the fook is he 'ere? If 'es here, 'es a real fuckup." Well ye'd be 'alf right."
"Turns out nobody likes one person in charge fer too long, especially a shekel snatchin' shylock like Cann. People started gettin' uppity, so then I decided ta' help th' underdogs out. Ye might've 'eard about as th' Cann Coup. Afer'words, the new bosses started bickerin' o'er who gets wha', and rather than stay an' wait fer someone ta' paint a target on me back, I beat feet down tha Mississippi."
"It was quiet, a slow life, hoppin' from boat ta' boat, takin' pot-shots an escortin' cargo, till I meet ya uncle. Th' boatman at th' time was shippin' some gin to some o' Rufus's rivals an down ta' Texas without his say-so. Skimpin' tolls or some bushwa, don't really remember much. He an' his boys decided ta' pay me employers at th' time a visit. So 'ere's Mister Rufus ridin' up wit 'is boys an' me employer asked me ta shoot 'im. "Peck 'em off" 'e says. But Oi had a gut feelin' that Oi would've been in a heap o' trouble if Oi did. Oi felt Oi recognized 'im from someplace... so when Rufus comes aboard an' Oi got a look at 'is face, Oi recognized 'im from the papers an from the pictures Cann an me employer used ta have o' the local gang bosses, th'
big ones. So when I got 'im alone, Oi decided ta shake 'ands wit 'im and give him a "hello", lo an' behold, Mister Rufus received a handful o' bullets, six o' em ta be exact. Oi was all cryptic in th' meanin', cuz Oi didn't figure me employer was gonna shoot 'im an' get the whole o' the Plains in a ruckus. But...that's wha' 'e meaned ta' do. So then he tells me, when we surrounded him, "peck 'em off!" Oi does what anyone would've done. Oi pulled out a small ketchup bottle an' sprayed 'im with it."
"Oi started laughin', then he realized th' joke an started laughin' too, and we were just standin' there laughin fer a good twenty seconds while everyone else was slack jawed like they saw Jesus 'imself take a shit on the deck. So my employer pulled out 'is own gun an' tried ta finish th' job, an' he was dead before he even put 'is hand on 'is gun. Oi pulled out me other six shooter an' wasted th' rest o' the group, wi' help from Mister Rufus an' 'is boys. While we rode back, we continued ta talk an' told 'im me story. After a few jobs ta show that Oi was still loyal, Oi wound up 'ere."
*"Kike Cann" being Isadore Blumenfeld, AKA Kidd Cann, whose influence in the Upper Midwest Mafias was comparable to Al Capone
What is your character's expertly good at that would help the gang they are in?(try to keep it unique from other characters if you can): "While Dima's quiet as a lynx who pounces on 'is prey, Oi prefer ta' pick me targets off from a distance. Oi've got a M1903 Springfield... wit' a telescopic scope
and suppressor. If ye pay me well enough, Oi can shoot the eyebrows off a mosquito. Other than tha', wha's there ta' say? Oi'm good wi' me tongue (or at least, tha's what the dames say), shakin' down deals between folk, an if ya need an ole case o' giggle water, I make some pretty strong gin tha'll put hair on e'en Chief's chest 'ere! If ya need someone ta' see if yer plan's foolproof (not sayin' yer a flat tire or anythin'), or ta talk wi' someone, Oi'm yer man. So tell me Bossman, we shootin' or talkin' at someone?"
TRANSLATED:
He keeps a cool head in combat and negotiation, and his charming hands and silver tongue can change former rivals into "we're at least willing to drink with you" friends, and his notorious Irish Luck has seen his way through many successful poker hands, women's legs, and otherwise impossible moments. He's got looks and the ability to look in all the right places, which makes him great for striking a deal, or arranging an "accident". He's got enough experience to warrant him running as second in command, but he opts to prove himself as well as everyone else in the gang.
When not negotiating deals, or acting as a sniper, he's most often found shooting the breeze with whoever he can chat with, cooking, or attempting to make moonshine.