Eamon Hanley was born on the 14th of July, 1996, in the small, southern city of Limerick, Ireland. Eamon’s father, an unskilled construction worker who never finished school, was rarely home, working heavily during the construction boom years in Ireland and, later, drinking with an even heavier hand than with which he had laid brick. More often than not, after a few pints of alcohol to relieve the stress of hard labour, his father would return home with a fury which he took out on Eamon. Bruises, cuts, occasional trips to the accident and emergency room, most weeks for Eamon growing up were punctuated by a drunken fist or palm. His mother, Nyeela, a night nurse at the regional hospital, would bear a degree of his abuse too, though more often than not she spent most of her down time at home tending to the consequences of Aiden’s drunkenness, which manifested itself on their son.
Growing up, Eamon attended their local primary school, never really achieving much beyond being exceptionally average. Being a city kid in a suburban school wasn’t easy, most of his classmates came from better families than him, dressed in freshly bought uniforms, new schoolbags every year, smart haircuts, everything that Eamon wished he had. His classmates didn’t make it any easier, Eamon was tough, father’s fists and words had made sure of that, and powered through the snide remarks, deliberate isolation and bully groups they formed to mess with him in the classroom. Eventually, he moved on to a public secondary school in the city, attending the school with a primary school friend called Nathan. Nathan and Eamon were inseparable, they came from similar families, as regrettable as they both found it, and were both enthusiastic about sports, games and getting in trouble. School seemed to fly by and, before they knew it, they were facing the intimidating choice of career prospects after school. Nathan’s father had been a soldier in the Defence Forces, in other words the Irish Army, and he planned on following in his footsteps when he was of age. Eamon wasn’t certain what he wanted to do, there weren’t many prospects for the son of a drunken builder and a mother too scared to leave him, and the Defence Forces seemed like a way out for him. Besides, what else was he going to do, right?
After they filled out their forms at the recruitment office, Eamon returned home to inform his parents that he’d be going away for the 17 week training course required to be taken by all army recruits. The evening he told them, his father had been drinking and his mother was about to leave for her night shift, their reactions were quite severe to say the least. Nyeela left after giving him an earful about how soldiering was a joke of a profession in the modern day, his father sat in his weathered old chair, remaining surprisingly quiet until she left for her night shift. When she left, his father stood up after a few minutes and they began to argue, his father drunkenly and Eamon with some fervour. Their argument turned into a shoving match, Eamon was a strong young man and his father, though past his prime, was not a man you wanted to mess with, made strong by years of hard labour in the construction industry. Eamon, trying to be the better man, reached for his coat and turned to leave their home. Stepping out of the living room towards the front door, his father stumbled after him heavily, firing vile insults at him as he opened the door to leave. Out on the tarmacadam of their driveway, his father stumbled out and tripped over the lip of their front porch, crashing heavily against the hard ground. A loud groan escaped his lips and Eamon turned his head slightly, halfway between the footpath and the porch. His father was lying on the ground, clutching his arm, bundled up and shaking from side to side. Eamon didn’t know what was wrong, maybe a stroke, maybe a heart attack, but he knew that if he didn’t call an ambulance, his father would probably die. He felt his phone in his hand, tapping in the emergency services number, moving to his ear as he prepared to call it in… then he remembered… every black eye, every drunken rant, every fearful night spent tucked up under the sheets waiting for that son of a bitch to come in and do what he always did… he felt his phone slide back into his jacket pocket as he turned to walk up the drive way. The emergency services never received a call from Eamon that night, Aiden’s body was discovered by a neighbour in the early hours of the morning and his death was ruled natural, with no indication of foul play.
Eamon’s career in the military was again, by all accounts, average when it first started out. Nathan, ever eager to join the army, was rejected on his first round due to a failure in both the interviewing and fitness sections of the recruitment process. His second application proved to be a success and, following his 17 week training course, they were both enlisted with the 12th Infantry Battalion as three star privates. Eamon slowly progressed his career in the army, performing the routine duties of any Irish infantry soldier during peacetime, providing support to the Gardai, secure complex patrols and, occasionally, providing assistance to armed transports containing valuable cargo, such as state funds.
In 2017, Eamon’s unit, 12th Infantry, was selected to participate in a widespread peacekeeping mission directed by the United Nations. By all accounts, it was an exciting, though somewhat intimidating prospect for Eamon, there were practical benefits to becoming a peacekeeper; it looked great on his record to help progress his career and came with a nice bump in pay for the time he was deployed. Unfortunately, his long-time friend Nathan was not included in the deployment to Chernarus, receiving a posting elsewhere in Europe as part of a similar directive. Arriving in a foreign country, far from home, all he knew, alone and facing a situation with which he nor any of his fellow soldiers were familiar, Eamon would soon find life taking yet another miserable turn.
Phelan Sokol: Possibly one of my closest friends, if I can still even call her that after what happened, we tried our best to raise Dolores as well as we could, it wasn't easy with her affliction nor was it easy with me being... well me, I guess. She's been in a bad way lately, ever since the happenings with Seth and then Will's idiotic rant at her, its taken its toll and I'm afraid she won't recover this time. In and out of consciousness, in and out of reality... some might call it a curse, some might envy it, me, I just want to see her better again, not for myself, but for young Dolores. The poor girl has had a lifetime's share of heartbreaks since I met her.
Dolores Haze: I don't know why I decided to take them on with me, but every time I see her she reminds me of why its important to be kind and compassionate, her actions to get my attention and my actions to bring both her and her sister to safety... I'm not sure I'd have done anything about that now, being the man I am today. She mirrors my own self long since past that sometimes I wish I could've held on to. Not certain if she's safe with Will, he doesn't seem entirely stable or capable of protection in physical confrontations, the man only carries a bow for the love of Jesus. Mentoring and protection are required for child-raising, and I'm afraid he can neither provide sage wisdom nor safety from violence in the long term. I've witnessed Dolores' discontent with his behaviour first hand, she's fast becoming her own person, something I regret missing out on, and, hopefully, she will retain the kind heart with which she started upon this long road. Only time and trials will tell.
Reed Hamilton: Mopy and British, but he had my back and was a good friend to me when it mattered most. Like all of us, Reed has his shortcomings, but his qualities far outmeasure any negatives he could draw. Loyalty, honesty and friendship cannot be bought in a man, so they are to be treasured when found in men such as him. I've heard rumour of his physical ailments as of late and haven't seen him since my return, despite our recent contact, I am worried for his wellbeing. Perhaps I should seek out this Leliana woman I hear he's been seeing, she may know more of why he stays his distance.
Default for all new encounters.
- Deep laceration on left hand.
Many thanks to @Brayces for Eamon's likeness, linked below: