Post by Belch on Dec 14, 2012 11:35:11 GMT -5
Redcap Name: Belch
Name: Ciarán O'Floinn: (Will not acknowledge this name)
Race before Chrysalis: Human
Kith: Redcap
Seeming: Wilder
Court: UnseelieHouse: N/ARank: N/A
Legacies: Grotesque, PranksterRomantic Legacies: N/A
Arts: Primal: 3
Apparent Age: Late teens
Eyes: Yellow and bloodshot
Hair: Blond with a dyed red streak
Height: 6
Weight: 140 lbs
Accent: Irish
Distinguishing Marks
His body is covered in Celtic tribal tattoos, cuts, bruises, and scars.
Mortal Shell: He's not everyone’s cup of tea; one-hundred percent masculine, not a girlish trait to be found -- macho! A tall scrawny blond guy with the physique akin to that of a lightweight boxer. He has crooked teeth and blue eyes like marbles. He's covered in tattoos and dirt with a streak of red hair. His clothes are rags that are falling apart. He wears a red skull cap.
Fae Mein: If he could get uglier, he just did. Green skin, sallow eyes, and huge sharp yellow teeth that stick out in all angles. He still has that mop of mussed blond hair with the red highlight. His voile is a leather tunic that looks like an anachronistic jacket, most of his voile shirts are anachronisms. He makes them himself in the style of street wear from a place he dreams of called “Urrth.” He wears a red “beanie.”
Hungry, hungry, hungry. Hungry for glass bottles, hungry for revolution, hungry for well, anything really? He wouldn't think twice about cannibalizing you in a second, unless you become his friend or ally. Belch is a self loathing redcap, but he still refuses to be anything other than what he is. Unseelie to the core and giving into all of his desires. He hates the nobility and the monarchy, but he will tolerate them, even pretend to serve them, if it means a place to stay with glamour. Until something better comes along. He will stab you in the back, but probably not if you're a noble, because he wouldn't want the responsibility for himself, nor would he want an even bigger tyrant to come in.
Belch was born in Minoc to no family and no money. Well, he must have had a family, but they left him outside a mine. He grew up on the street picking fish bones and rotten spuds out of alley trash cans. The fae was terrified and disgusted by his Chrysalis. Why couldn't he have been a sidhe? Or a satyr? Hell, even a pooka would be better than a cap. That's when the insatiable hunger started, a hunger that constantly claws at his insides. At least green was his favorite color. He wanders the lands, looking for free glamour and free eats. He can be useful if he is forced to submit to authority and kept in line, but it is a difficult task considering his upbringing as a street urchin. He is shy and hungry around other fae, but is always happy to be around them for company and friendship or for a nice meal. He is constantly smoking and eating nightshade cigarettes for appetite suppression. He stinks like blood and sweat and has one foul mouth.