CHARACTER INFORMATIONCharacter Name:
Aislin Carigan O’ShaeGender:
Female.Age:
18 Years Old.Education:
Private tutor for eleven years, proceeded to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Ravenclaw House.Residence:
The O’Shae Estate, Droichead Nua (Newbridge), Ireland.Occupation:
Heiress to the O’Shae name.Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (example St Mungo's, the Ministry, Shrieking Shack) or to take over an existing shop in need of new management?
No.Requested Magic Levels:
- Charms: 6
- Transfiguration: 7
- Divination: 10
- Summoning: 9
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
Sarasem O’Shae, and the O’Shae family. They are related and all that.Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Lotharius Chaucer, Shane Caravel.Tibbles Beard Of PowerBiography: (300 words minimum.)
He told her it had been a suicide attempt. But he didn’t say it quickly.
After weeks of demanding, stalking and screaming at the healers who attended her mother’s bedside, one of them finally cracked under the child’s pressure. He, an old man with a bulbous nose and tiny eyes, took to one knee in front of her and rubbed his mouth warily. He reminded Aislin of the walrus from one of her picture books, fat and blubbering, trying to find words like fish in an open sea.
Aislin hated walruses.
‘It’s when someone doesn’t want to live anymore,” he said, reaching out a hand to the girl’s shoulder. “When they’re sad and hopeless and can’t see any reason to keep going. But she’s alright now, and you’ll get to see her soon, okay?”
Aislin, ten years old and still learning the courtesies of an heir, smacked the hand off of her shoulder and thundered off down the corridor, her young rage great and aimless.
As she approached her bedroom door, Aislin found herself wanting to curl up on her side and shriek, and that surprised her for she could find no touchable reason why.
Her father had been dead for two months, by her count. His pyre long since broken and burnt, his ashes scattered across the river Liffey, like so many O’Shae men before him.
His death had not been the secret affair that her mother’s illness had become. His passing had been lamented and openly wept for, a senseless accident while re-building the East Wing. A beam had fallen, or so Aislin had been told. The body had been kept from her until it was wrapped and set upon the pyre.
Her mother had stayed before the flames long into the small hours of the morning, until the wood cracked and crumbled, and the body little more than dust and shreds of cloth, but not Aislin. She had been taken back to her chambers along with her brother and sisters just after the fire was lit. Tradition said that they should have all stayed there alongside Sarasem, but their nannies thought otherwise. The Head of house O’Shae said nothing in protest as her children were lead back up the path to the manor. But then, she hadn’t said anything in days.
Aislin had climbed onto her window seat, clutching her blankets about her, and watched her mother’s motionless silhouette on the ground so far below her. She fell asleep there, puffy eyed and exhausted, waiting for a comfort that would not come.
And it was on that window seat that Aislin waited apathetically for her scolding. She expected one of the caretakers, Jensy perhaps, to throw wide the door and tell her for the untold time that an heir ‘must use her words.’
But no one came. For hours, Aislin sat alone in her chambers, pawing through old books and fading memories of a kinder time. She fell asleep upon her comforter, dreaming of her mother’s arms and her father’s laughing smile, and woke again in tears.
ROLEPLAYReply as your character to the following:
It was impossible for Dianne to stay out of trouble. It wasn't that she was looking for trouble, it's just that trouble always managed to find her. Today she wished she could find something equally familiar but more comforting.
The five-year old girl hugged her puffskein closer to her and brushed her face in its soft fur for comfort. She had named him herself and he was always her special pet. No she was certain she had never gone down this side street before. Her anxiety increased every second as darkness fell as she walked down the road. A loud noise came to her left and she buried her face in her pet's fur completely. The scared girl bolted the opposite way slamming the both of them into the wall of the nearest building. Tottering back a few steps she found a door a few feet to her right and ran to open it. What light there was inside spilled out into the darkness and she spilled into the room.
Once in, she was caught between the impulse to curl her cloak up more tightly around her and loosen her grip on it. She wasn't alone anymore but she was now among strangers instead, which was nearly as terrifying. Her puffskein had recovered from the shock of the wall and now was purring contentedly as the girl hugged it, causing a mildly calming effect on the girl. Gathering her courage, she marched up to the nearest person, pulled on the nearest clothing hem and blurted out in a loud voice:
"I'm lost and it's dark and I wanted to know where I am but I'm not scared but I am worried that Sambundeakin is scared because he's little and needs something to eat and wants to go home."
She paused to draw a breath in her nearly never-ending sentence, "He misses my and his mommy."
To explain the scared girl held up the custard-colored puffskein. Sambundeakin the puffskein, however simply purred as if nothing on earth was wrong in the world.
Roleplay Response:
“She’s part fish, she is! Bastion’s got a run for his money he does. Look at her!”
“She’s cheating,” a voice from her left griped and Aislin would have boxed his ears had she not been otherwise occupied.
The heady, bitter drink poured past her lips and rode its way down her throat in waves. She had forgotten how much or for how long she had been drinking, but so long as there was liquid in the glass, she would keep it up.
A wager had been made at some point in the evening between herself and a squat, square faced man at the bar. Whoever drained the tavern’s tallest glass in so and so a time would get some amount of money, but the details had become fuzzy as the drink grew potent.
Her worthy opponent, the one called Bastion, had been making good and steady time until a drop went down the wrong pipe, and the man fell from his stool, gagging and sputtering on the floor. The element of time was eliminated and the bet’s focused shifted to merely keeping the drink down. It was child’s play.
Three more gulps. Two more. One.
Aislin slammed the towering glass onto the table with a triumphant gulp of air. The throngs of onlookers who had gathered to watch the spectacle cheered like fools, but Aislin loved them all.
A hand clapped down on her shoulder and she looked up to see the recovered Bastion, reaching into the pouch at his side. “Wrong breath at the wrong time, but it’s still fair and square, love. How much do I owe you?”
Aislin took another deep swallow of air and stood, clasping Bastion’s hand. “Buy me a glass for the road, and we’ll call it good.”
The two sauntered over to the bar, Aislin pointed to an amber colored liquid on the counter, and grinned at the man beside her. “Just gotta work on that reflex of yours, and you’d have had me in the bag. That must’ve taken me at least twi-“
There was a tug on her blouse, and Aislin looked down into the small face of a child, already running her mouth in some frantic haste. The O’Shae heir raised her hands in what was meant to be a calming gesture but probably looked to be out of shock. “Calm yourself, lamb! You’re alright!”
The girl raised her puffskein for Aislin’s examination, and the older girl stroked its fur and smiled. She winked at the child, raised a finger to have her wait, and turned back to the bar. “Cancel that last drink, or pass it to my friend here,” she inclined her head to Bastion who looked back in puzzlement. “I got something to take care of over here.” She shook the squat man’s hand, wished him a good night and turned back to the little girl.
She was already wrapped in her own cloak, but Aislin still removed her dark coat from the chair’s back and drape it over the child’s shoulders. She bent down to the girl’s level and indicated to the door. “Let’s get you home.”
SHOPKEEPER QUESTIONSAnswer these questions only if you are applying to be a shopkeeper as well.
Shop name:
Type your response here.Shop Description (200 words minimum):
Type your response here.What purpose will this shop serve other than selling things and being the home of your character? Why would people want to RP there just for fun?
Type your response here.
