Character Sheet Edit
|Character Sheet for Declan O'Sullivan (Crimson Conor)|
|Physical (5)||Social (7)||Mental (3)|
|Stamina:||3 / 4||Appearance:||5||Wits:||2|
|Talents (9)||Skills (13)||Knowledge (5)|
|Empathy||1||Martial Arts:||2||Lore (Fey):||1|
|Arts (3)||Backgrounds (7)||Virtues (7)|
|Legerdemain:||2 (5)||Title:||5 (3)||Self-Control:||3|
|Pure Breed:||3 (3)||Courage:||4|
|Chimerical Compan.||4 (4)|
|Contacts: (Crimson Kate)||1|
|Actor:||4 (3)||Nightclub (Pub):||-2||Slipped Seeming:||+5|
|Fae:||2||Supernatural Kin:||-4||Surreal Quality:||+2|
Chimerical Companion: The Cast Iron Wolf Edit
|Physical (5)||Social (2)||Mental (2)|
Freebie Point Expenditures: Practiced (35 freebies) Edit
|Total Spent:||22 Points|
XP Expenditures Edit
|Stat:||Type:||Approved By:||Finished:||Slot Status:||Explanation:|
Advancement History Edit
|Red denotes a +learn||Green denotes a +teach|
It’s said that every man knows his mother. Whether he knows his father is an entirely other story. Enter our hero. Declan O’Sullivan is the mortal name that his fae mother gave him when he was born in Clare County, Ireland to Mary-Katherine O’Sullivan; kin to the Fianna of good standing and breeding who made a living off of her good looks and the many callers of the Garou nation that she never turned away. In addition to being werewolf kinfolk though, she was known to the fae as Crimson Katherine, Duchess of the chimerical lands that made up Counties Clare, Limerick, Tipperary, and Galway, the Duchy handed down to her through four generations, her grandsire having been awarded it after having defeated a great chimerical beast. The same chimerical beast that would appear every generation to test the family's mettle if a new member should decide to take the duchy title. She was hardly a slouch herself, known for her fiery passion and a righteous rage that would have made her Garou ancestors proud when she slew that beast and won her right to her family's title.
Mary-Katherine made sure that her son would not lead a spoiled, jaded existence. Instead despite being able to afford quite the lavish estate she decided to move herself and her court to Galway shortly the birth of her one and only son, living in a small cottage on Galway Bay. She made sure that he got his education despite the fact that his changeling nature showed itself so early on in life and captured his attention. Of course he was always a smart, quick, agile child, but he was also the most mischievous and could never sit still for very long at all.
It was lucky that the fae were able to live in fairly close-knit communities side by side at times with the werewolves. It certainly made things more tense at times, but being beholden to both the fae and the Fianna, Mary-Katherine and her fae alter ego saw that both sides were able to communicate, be understood, and each other’s interests served equally. When they say that it takes a village to raise a child, obviously they were not speaking of Declan O’Sullivan. It would have taken ten villages. He went through his chrysalis at the early age of seven, the world he had sensed and seen glimpses of since birth opening up before him. Of course it was not easy for him since his goat legs showed up in his mortal seeming thereafter, always having to wear long, baggy pants to hide his supernatural nature.
His fae nature showing through the mists did not bother his mother one bit and he certainly did not allow it to slow him down at all. In the village and down, milk would turn up with liver oil in it or sometimes it would not show up at all. Girls would find mice in their desks at school. Other children were blamed for pranks that they did not commit. He was like Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn put together. His own mastermind and straight-man rolled in to one. He was virtually hell on wheels, always looking for the next prank he could play, the next string of mischief he could bring about, the next sidhe childling he could trick in to kissing a frog and make her cry. His mother had to step in more than a few times when he got caught, saving his hide from being singed by a chimerical beast, skewered by a troll sword, or torn in half by a werewolf’s claws. The good thing about him was that whenever he was asked a direct question by an elder, he would answer wholly and truthfully which saved him on many occasions because a friend, relative, or his mother could then properly cover for him or step in to fix his mess.
It was a miracle that he graduated from high school at all. His mother would often be heard telling the neighbors that the only reason her son had graduated at all was because the sisters who taught at the school didn’t dare hold him back to allow him to torment them another year. After graduating from high school he took up with some of the younger Fianna who he and his mother claimed as distant cousins though their relations were not ever really fully documented to Declan. The young Fianna made money acting a lookouts and message carriers for the local IRA cell that operated out of a pub, occasionally delivering packages for them to locations that they would hear about later as having been bombed. It was with them that he found a calling.
He was already known as a scrapper and every time he got brought home by the constabulary for creating trouble for some English soldiers, his mother would rail at him sorely and then demand to know if he at least gave as good as he got. The answer was always a definite yes. By day he was a package by and local scrapper for the IRA and by night he was squire in his mother’s court under a satyr knight’s tutelage. Between the two worlds, the werewolves training him up to be a fighter and a marksman with a pistol and his satyr tutor who taught him a good amount of staff and swordplay, he was becoming a very capable fighter. As well as a hell of a barkeeper as the IRA cell liked the kid, liked his attitude and the way he handled himself. So they let him tend bar for some spare change now and again. It was not long before he was giving wilders older than himself pointers on swordplay, werewolves a good deal more seasoned than he how to hold their fist when throwing a punch.
His title with the fae that had been bestowed upon him by his mother meant very little to him and carried very little weight which just gained him the respect of his betters for wearing a title so loosely that could have easily been abused. And what standing he did have with the Garou community was strengthening just as swiftly and surely by his willingness to assist them with their various goals, mostly by providing them with another arm or another gun. On one such mission for the Garou he was to simply act as a lookout like he usually did but he caught sight of a couple fomori pulling an oil tanker up to the top of a hill nearby where Declan stood guard, the fomori intent on unhitching the oil tanker and allowing it to roll down the hill and into the oil refinery that the Garou were raiding.
Recognizing the fiends for what they were, he lit in to them firing off all the rounds in his pistols, ducking blows and dodging the burning oily discharges that they threw at him as he reloaded, and in a moment of passion, desperation and stupidity, he opened fire on the oil tanker. Having managed to get a fair distance from the tanker, having been firing wildly behind himself, the tanker blew up, sending him rolling and tumbling to lay beside the road to the refinery. Fortunately the Garou came and recovered him. It took him nearly a month to recover fully, but when he did the Garou came to thank him for his assistance and gave him his very own deed name: Anything-But-Subtle, Fomori slayer.
After this little misadventure, his mother demanded that he pay more attention to the court. He did this in his own fashion by venturing out, chimerical weaponry in hand, ‘borrowed’ from the court, and put himself to the test besting chimerical beasts of all sorts and putting down violent unseelie raiders. It was on this journey that he happened to meet his Chimerical Companion, the Cast Iron Wolf. Outmanned, he charged into a rancorous party of Unseelie who had captured some ladies from a local farm town. Of course he tilted out of the woods, sword in hand. Outnumbered by about ten to one, he fully expected to meet and honorable death in hopes of allowing the ladies to escape. Perhaps it was the ferocity and the passion with which he fought, but just as they surrounded him, the Cast Iron wolf leapt from the woods to land behind Declan, snarling at the Unseelie. Between the two of them they drove the Unseelie off and saved the women from a rather grizzly. Eventually Declan was named worthy of the title of knight and preferred to wear his knight’s belt over the sash that displayed his rank as royalty. For his passionate warrior ways, his good looks, and his way with the ladies, particularly the lady werewolves, he became known as Crimson Conor among the courts, named so partially as an honorific for his mother.
Still quite young and passionate, he continued to run packages for the IRA though it was just after he turned twenty that he made his last delivery. He had been told to place a package down a storm drain at a precisely designated time. Well foolish him for not having checked his watch after his last chimerical battle because it must have been knocked around. It was several minutes slow. For the second time in his life Declan caught the tail end of an explosion but he did not escape one of the stainless steel ball bearings that flew out in the explosion and caught him in the knee.
Luckily he was found by another kin sympathetic to the cause as well as his fae condition and took him to the local vet, another kin, for medical attention. Of course just to keep their operative out of the public eye the IRA funded his recovery. The damage to his knee was irreparable but they managed to patch him up. He'd never be completely out of pain. During his recovery, though, he was relegated to small jobs and working the bar gathering information. Soon enough though, with the heat coming down on them and a permanent statement of peace looming on the horizon from the IRA, they thought it best for Declan to leave the country altogether.
Funny that they should want him to leave because he had already asked permission from his mother to leave the court and carry his title of Duke to Concordia. A couple of the local gentry had admitted to placing a wager upon him. The wager? To see if the offspring of the legendary Crimson Kate could actually succeed in creating a changeling court in such place that was known for rejecting the rule of either of courts.