Written by the "Assault" voiceactor - Irish.

Assault character is a ex-IRA operative who was part of the Northern Bank heist (£25,6m), which he references in some of his voicelines. From his own journal:

I’m a revolutionary, not some two pence cat burglar. There’s a reason for everything and there’s a reason I’m here now, again, doing this job. Well, maybe I’m not so ideologically head strong anymore. Maybe I’m just good at what I do. I enjoy it, there I said it. I like to rip off those big corporate fat cats. They’re the wankers that damn near enslaved the Irish not so long ago, kept us in a military state and why? Because they benefited from the arms trade that ensued, well, now I’m going to benefit from their benefitting. I do love a good sense of Irony. And you know, Jamesons.

My name? Ach well you know, I’ve had so many I sort of forget. Mick will do. Or Paddy. Does it matter? A nickname gets the job done and so do I.

How did I get into this line of work you ask? Well, back in the day when it wasn’t too uncommon for a city block to get leveled in Belfast for showing the wrong colours, me and the lads were thinking to ourselves how are we gonna keep this going? So Johnny came up with the bright idea of hitting the banks, best decision we ever made. We discovered I was rather good at it too, so were they mind, but you know it just came natural to me like. The Northern Bank hit, ah good times.


Written by the "Firefighter" voiceactor - Cheese.

As a child, Frank had always dreamed of becoming a fireman. He could often be seen running around outside, holding a hose, and pretending to put out imaginary fires. His mother (whom he lived alone with, since his father left before he was born) had always believed this was just a phase. However, when he turned eighteen, and had still not grown out of it... She realized that he truly intended to make this his career. Unfortunately, Frank ran into money troubles early on in his adulthood, and was forced to postpone that goal, picking up any jobs he could get at the time. However, he'd never given up on his dream, and four years later (and after he'd saved up what he saw as an adequate amount), Frank decided that he wanted to go to school for a masters degree in fire science.

It wasn't until one year later (and halfway through his schooling) that he dropped out. Tragedy had struck.

On a day like any other day, Frank was sitting in class... When he was asked to step out to answer a call. Frank walked out, and as he was handed the phone, he wondered what might be so important as to enable him to leave in the middle of a class. He received the answer immediately, when the voice on the opposite end said, "I'm sorry to inform you, but your house caught fire today, and burned down before we arrived... And, well... A body was found in the ashes." Frank could hardly process what he'd just heard. He was in such a state of shock that he couldn't even connect the pieces of this "puzzle"...

But then it hit him: His mother, the only member of his family that he'd ever known or loved, was dead. Frank was let out early, and he decided to stay at a hotel until he could find a new place to live. But on his way, he decided to take a trip back home. He walked to the scene of the incident, and stared at the pile of ash. For quite a while, he just stood there, staring... Thinking nothing in particular. However, eventually, he directed his attention to a a few small lines etched into the concrete, still partially covered by ash. He slowly brushed away the ash, and upon completion, it all became clear. A crude drawing of a flaming, bird-like symbol was etched into the ground: The sign of Phoenix, a local gang that inhabited his area. Frank was well-aware of Phoenix, as were many of the people in his class... In fact, they were specifically warned about them. Phoenix was a gang of fire-obsessed psychopaths who despised authority, and viewed firemen as a direct opposition to their cause.

Frank hadn't really been giving the idea of his mother's death much thought (he'd been actively trying to push the thought away), but at that moment, something became painfully clear: His mother had died because of him, or more specifically, what he had chosen to be... It was all his fault. Frank began to shake, and then dropped to his knees, and started sobbing. He didn't cry often, but this was far too much for him to handle... So today was a rare exception. He stayed there for quite a few minutes, letting his tears drip onto the dusty ash beneath him.

However, his thoughts of sadness, soon turned to anger: "It's not your fault, it's theirs" echoed through his mind. He began to whisper, reassuring himself, "It's not your fault". Frank's mind went blank for a bit, and he stared into the distance with an empty expression on his face. However, when he looked back down, he was once again greeted by the symbol that he'd so quickly grown to hate.

"YOU DID THIS!", he screamed. Lost in his anger, he began to punch at the concrete engraving, "YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME!".

The cracks began to fill with a deep crimson. The sight of the blood red Phoenix symbol slowly brought Frank back to reality though. The people behind this needed to pay. He would MAKE them pay... Frank started his own investigation of the murder, tracing it back to a single faction of the gang. And what happened that night would go down as one of the most brutal mass murders in history. Frank had single-handedly taken down an entire Phoenix base... Using only an axe. Frank was found guilty of the slaughtering and dismemberment of 28 people, and sentenced to life in prison for his crimes... However, the real period of time that Frank would spend behind bars was... A mere eight years.


On the day of the infamous 1984 prison break, Frank was one of the many who escaped (including a large variety of other dangerous criminals, including a chainsaw-wielding serial killer. He wasn't the same as he used to be... He'd gained an obsession with fire, and had taken to burning himself, regularly... To help himself handle the pain, hoping to gain an immunity of sorts. Frank had begun to refer to himself as "The Fireman", and had seemingly made being a fireman what defined him as a person. He'd been fairly quiet during his prison years (aside from some incomprehensible mumbling directed at nobody in particular), but upon killing a nearby mugger in an alleyway... He began to laugh, for the first time in years. He laughed and laughed, and his laughter grew louder and louder.

Frank was gone now.

He had been completely replaced by "The Fireman", a violent, homicidal vigilante, who places no value on the life of a criminal, and makes a point of eliminating and ridding the world of fire... At any cost (including his own life, or the lives of others, if need be). A grin formed on his face, as he looked upon the city.

This was going to be fun.

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