Post by Aidan Flynn on Jan 20, 2012 3:36:53 GMT -5
Aidan Casey Flynn
I had some dreams they were clouds in my coffee
Clouds in my coffee, and
You're so vain
You probably think this song is about you
You're so vain
I'll bet you think this song is about you
Don't you? Don't you?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
full name:[/b] Aidan Casey Flynn
age: 52
sexual orientation: Straight
blood status: Pure
house/former house: Ravenclaw
occupation: Unspeakable / Dark Arts Professor
alliance: Order
amortentia: Fire (negative), Baking (positive) (see history for more information)
patronus: Panther
boggart: Burning House
erised: Emily, Jenny and Caleb Flynn (wife and children) standing with him.
strengths:
- Extreme empathy (being able to read people exceptionally well and to determine their personalities)
- Intelligence
- Quick study (learns things very quickly)
- Problem solver
- Determined
weaknesses:
- Alcohol Addicted (generally addictive personality)
- Loner who keeps to himself
- Quick-tempered
- Solitary (reclusive)
- Aggressive
likes:
- Cats
- Bourbon
- Peace and Quiet
- Summer Rain
- Fresh Baked Goods
- Pub friends
- Nighttime
- The scent of lilies
- Spring
- The Night Sky
- London
- Piano music
dislikes:
- Muggle-hate
- Washing Dishes
- Clutter
- The smell of smoke
- Cigarettes
- Guitar music
- Lightening
- The color red
- Mirrors
- Morning-time
habits:
- Smoking a Pipe
- Must have a tumbler of bourbon (on the rocks) at five p.m. every evening and will bend time to make that happen
- Pulling at the end of his nose when he's nervous
- Gambling (mostly poker, but exclusively cards)
- Obsessive cleanliness
goals:
- Recovery from depression
- Quit the drink
- Prevent war altogether
- Find a quiet way to die
personality: -
There was once a time that Aidan Flynn might have been considered normal. Well, almost. He's always been hyperactive in that super-intelligent way that means that when the mind isn't engaged the body is active. It's one of the reasons that he's always been obsessed with Quiddich, whether watching the game from the stands or acting as Seeker for the Ravenclaw team when he was at Hogwarts. It's just the kind of personality that is popular with some and dreaded by others. Outgoing and cheerful, Aidan made friends easily and kept them for a long time, without fail. He was popular with the jocks and he got along well with his teachers. The perfect student, particularly at a school like Hogwarts, and a typical Ravenclaw to boot. He had the personality of a professional Quiddich player, but was determined to be an Auror.
And all of those dreams might have come true, if it hadn't been for a tragedy that changed Aidan's life forever. The fairly normal, if hyperactive, young man became darker, more solitary the day that his wife and children burned to death in a fire. His studies might have gone on a momentary hiatus, but instead Aidan decided to throw himself into the books, studying harder and harder. His focus changed, his concentration moving toward something that he wished he'd paid more attention to before; prophecy. It would have been easy for him to turn to the dark forces and join the Death Eaters, but if one is to be honest about the situation, he was too obsessed with finding out ways that he might have been able to predict or prevent the death of his wife and children.
But becoming an Unspeakable wasn't the fulfillment of a lifelong dream, and instead of being satisfying, it only drove Aidan into darker and darker places. His personality is deeply dark, though he is not an inherently unhappy person. Aidan still longs to find his happy agian, and if he cannot, he wishes only to peacefully die, a task that he seems incapable of pulling off because he's too obsessed with finding answers, and he suspects that he won't be able to do that if he's, well, dead.
Aidan has a highly addictive personality and he is addicted to alcohol, tobacco (pipe) and gambling. When confronted with these problems, he does his best to brush them off as insignificant, but they are serious flaws to his personality that make him sometimes difficult to get along with. He is notoriously obstinate and doesn't get along with very many people, though if you could see into his heart, you'd know that he likes the majority of people he meets, but he only really gets along with people who are drunk (even if he isn't). Heaven help the witch or wizard who points out one of his vices.
Aidan is always sober when he works!
appearance:
Aidan is the type of man that many would describe as being ruggedly handsome. Although he hasn't aged particularly well and his face is well-lined from stress and too much tobacco use, there is still a certain spark of life in his blue eyes that is not only interesting, but attractive. His skin is relatively smooth and certainly clear in spite of those lines around his mouth and between his brows that come from stress, worry and tension. He tells people that the lines come from job stress, and he doesn't often talk about his past. Many people think that they make him look interesting. No matter how stupid Aidan pretends he thinks that is, he rather likes the idea of being interesting.
He has deep, sad blue eyes and short cropped brown hair that tends to always look as though he just rolled out of bed and didn't bother to do a thing with it (probably because he just rolled out of bed and didn't do a thing with it). He only shaves about once a week and therefore tends to have a nicely cultivated shadow on his face. For all that he gives the impression that he doesn't care about his appearance... Well, he doesn't really care about his appearance, and the fact that he doesn't care is probably half of what makes him so attractive to the opposite sex!
The most outstanding feature that Aidan possesses, however, is his sheer height. Standing six foot seven inches, he towers over the majority of the witches and wizards who he knows, and he's often lowering his head and slouching in order to prevent himself from demanding too much attention. He finds it embarrassing to be towering over everyone all the time and he most definitely does not enjoy being the center of attention!
marks, scars, tattoos, etc:
There is a burn scar that climbs the length of Aidan's left arm and goes over his shoulder and down his back. Although he could very likely eliminate the scar magically, he has held onto it as a reminder of his wife and children who burned to death when his house caught on fire fifteen years ago.
overall style:
If one had to describe Aidan's style, the easiest way to do so would be "messy dressy." He's usually wearing a suit, but it is often intentionally rumbled and instead of a dress shirt underneath, he wears a t-shirt, often with a printed logo. Anyone who challenges him about his clothing is likely to have to deal with his temper. His robes are often a drab grey and they aren't always clean. There is a small tear on the right side of his daily wear robe near the pocket that he's never bothered to repair because he doesn't know how to sew and can't be bothered to buy a new one.
mother: Moira Flynn
father: Casey Flynn (deceased)
siblings: Brigit Flynn (50)
spouse: Emily Jacobs Flynn (deceased)
children: Jenny and Caleb Flynn (deceased), Mark Flynn (17, estranged)
other family members: None of consequence
wealth status: Upper Class
pets: A pet cougar by the name of Jasper. The animal is large but mostly well contained and is a firm representation of his serious love of the feline species.
history: -
[/justify][/size]Aidan had a fairly normal childhood, growing up with a father who worked inside the ministry of magic and a witch mother who chose to stay at home with her two children. He was happy most of the time, and got along brilliantly with his younger sister Brigit. It was a happy time, full of laughter and exploration with parents who encouraged curiosity in their young witch and wizard.
But when Aidan was eleven, things changed. He received his Hogwarts letter that year. Excitement rippled through the house as Aidan prepared to go off to school. It was his first time on the train, and he was very nervous. But it was there that he met the friends who would be his best throughout his years at Hogwarts: Orion Wormley and Justin Badgerson. The three of them were inseparable for the next two years. They did everything together, and when Aidan went out for Quiddich in his second year, they were the ones who consoled him when he didn't make the team (that year, anyway).
The next year was going to be Aidan's year. He was determined to go back and make it happen. Excitement rippled through the house as the family waited for Brigit's letter. And waited. And waited. The family had been hopeful that although she had shown no magical abilities whatsoever that she would receive her invitation based on Aidan's grades if nothing else, but the letter never came, and Aidan went back to school alone and to the scorn of his peers. Rumors flew, people talking about how Aidan had a squib for a sister, and he found that his friends were less his friends now. Orion ditched him entirely, though it didn't surprise Aidan as there were ripplings of a new power going through the school. Orion was a Slytherin, and in love with power more than he was in love with the fifth year he was trying to date. Justin, however, stuck by his side, and in spite of all the rumors, that was the year that Aidan made it onto the quiddich team.
The next four years passed slowly, with Aidan focusing on his studies so that he could eventually become an auror. Brigit stayed at home and attended a muggle school while their parents wrung their hands over her status as a squib. But Aidan loved his sister dearly and the fact that she didn't possess any magic didn't bother him at all. He dealt with it fine and they were closer than ever, right up to the point when he met Emily Fallon in his final year at Hogwarts.
Emily was younger than Aidan, and beautiful, with deep, rich brown hair and sparkling green eyes. He loved her instantly, even though she was only a fifth year. They were instantly smitten, taken to going into Hogsmeade together and sneaking around the castle. It was the first year that Aidan's grades slipped at all, but he did so well on his N.E.W.T.s that it didn't matter at all. His acceptance into the training program was guaranteed, but he chose to stay at home for another two years until Emily graduated, at which point he planned on attending University with the hopes of gaining the right to become an Auror.
Two years after Aidan's graduation, he and Emily were married. She was already pregnant with Mark when they said their vows, and their first child came along six months after their wedding. Aidan was working as a bartender at the time, already beginning his love affair with alcohol. But when there were no more pregnancies immediately and when it seemed that Emily was going to have some difficulty in becoming pregnant again, Aidan decided that it was time for him to consider continuing his education. He went back to school and was studying during the day and working by night right up to the point when Emily found out that she was pregnant again. It was then that he stopped working so that he could help her through the pregnancy, which sadly ended in miscarriage. He didn't go back to University immediately, and after that it was another year before Emily was pregnant again. This time she gave birth to a beautiful little girl with shocking black hair. They named her Jennifer.
Aidan was set to return to school when shortly thereafter, Emily became pregnant again, this time giving birth to a boy, Caleb. They joked that they were an Irish family and that it made sense for them to have Irish twins, but tension was already brewing with Mark. By that time he was about to enter Hogwarts, and he had a growing resentment toward his younger siblings. Perhaps that was what caused the enormous rift between them when, in Mark's twelfth year, Aidan came home from work to find that the house was blazing, the screams of his wife and two younger children coming from inside.
He couldn't get there fast enough. No magic and none of his running into the fire directly did any good other than to leave him with the broad scar across his back. He will never forget the smell of burning human flesh as he fought to get to his wife and children only to be pulled back by the first responders on the scene.
The fire is something that Aidan has never forgotten and never will forget. It has marred his experience for life when he lost his wife and his children. It has damaged his relationship with his son. And it is what drove him to the Department of Mysteries instead of being an Auror. If there was any way that he could have predicted, or any way that he could have known, he wants to know and find out. If there was a way to go back in time and stop it, Aidan would do it. But the situation has estranged him from his oldest son, who he loves and misses, but who he also fears. Did Mark set the fire? Aidan has no idea, but he can't help but feel some resentment for the seventeen year old Slytherin.
[/blockquote]
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
From here. There was a lot of formatting on the post but since it's almost the same color as the background here, I removed all the formatting. I was going to share my PTS, but since it's not posted publicly on that site yet, I felt uncomfortable doing it. Besides, it's monstrous at 3000+ words long! This was a thread starter.
In the blink of an eye, the entire world had ended. Father carryin' Beth away, her screamin', the crowd starin' up at me with those sad gray eyes, knowin' that I'm just goin' into the arena so I can die. It don't matter what they're thinkin', what they're expectin' to happen to me. I'm a goner. Trainin'? Who cares? Only one of us makes it out of the Arena alive. It prolly ain't gonna be me, some Seam kid, so who cares? He hadn't heard from Heron yet, hadn't sought her out for training or for conversation because, frankly, the whole thing terrifies me and if I spend too much time being Mentored, I think that makes it all real, and I don't know if I want this to be real. Maybe in the morning I'll wake up and Bethany will be whimpering in her sleep again and I can rock her into the waking world until things are calm again. But this was a world in which the Reaping was real, and the Hunger Games were real. This was reality. Standing here in the doorway to the training center while other tributes came in around and behind him. He glanced around, looking for Aisley but not seeing her, and shook his head as he struggled to swallow past the fear that filled his throat and made his intestines twist up into a knot of painful terror. And this isn't even the real fun. That won't start until we get dropped off in the Arena. Maybe I'll just step off my plate before the gong sounds and it will be over that quick. Bethany won't have to watch me die a painful death.
But that would be stupid. It was stupid because "I want to win," Smokey said aloud. But his voice sounded weak, even in his own ears. It split down the middle and then shattered into a million pieces, and even he wasn't sure if he really wanted to win that badly. Could he possibly want to win enough that he would be willing to murder twenty three other people in order to return home to District Twelve? No. Not twenty three other people. Most of them will kill one another, and all of them are going to be out to kill you. If you're lucky, you might only have to kill one. If you're really lucky, some disaster or muttation will take out all of the others and you'll be left standing by yourself. Yeah. He could only get that lucky. So Smokey cleared his throat and said again, more loudly, with more determination, "I want to win." Winning was the only way to survive, and for Bethany's sake, he was going to survive. It's not convincing enough. Make them know that you mean it. Tell them! All of them! "I want to win!" The heads of a couple of the trainers rose to look at him, nervous glances exchanging between several, and Smokey raised his chin. I'm goin' home to Bethany. It don't matter who I gotta kill, I'm goin' home to Bethany.
It was with that determination in his mind that Smokey squared his shoulders with a sort of surreal authority and marched his way into the room so that he could stand in the middle and look around at the others who had already gathered. Some stations were already in use, but there were a few that were empty. Most of the more physical stations were already taken, and in spite of his social nature, Smokey didn't really want to be around people at the moment. Who wants to get to know and like the people they're going to have to kill just to have the privilege of returning home to their home district? And I don't even want to go home if it means facin' Aisley's family! There just ain't no way I'm goin' into this room thinkin' about meetin' an' likin' all these people who ain't gonna be my friends when this is over. 'Cause I gotta win. Which means they ain't gonna. These were the facts of the Arena. No friend he made now was going to be there when it was all over.
The combat stations seemed to be the most popular, so Smokey naturally avoided them, gravitating instead toward a station that seemed relatively peaceful. He glanced over at the knife area and flinched, remembering his recent encounter with the butchers at the Hob. That's what they are. Bloody butchers. I don' want that kinda blood on my hands. How could they? But he didn't hate the careers or the others who were already training for combat. He just didn't want to get to know them, at least not yet. No matter how much they fumbled, to Smokey it looked like they were showing off, and all he could think was that his best defense would be...
"Self defense?" the trainer asked as Smokey nearly bumped into him. He blinked several times, slowly coming into himself, focusing on the look of the tall, slender man with long, lean muscles and sinewy arms who looked at him with a curious expression in his unnaturally green eyes. Smokey nodded. "Yeah. That's just what I was thinkin'. Self defense." If he could avoid having to actually hurt somebody in the Arena, that was preferable, for sure. If my instincts are gonna work like that, I guess I might as well keep trustin' 'em. Maybe I'll make it outta this thing alive after all.
But Smokey knew that going up against the careers, he didn't have much of a chance. He sighed, then shook his head. Whatever happens, I sure as hell ain't gonna let 'em just kill me there on the spot. I'm gonna do my best to survive this thing with a little bit of my dignity intact. I just hope Beth don't gotta see me kill nobody in that Arena. I don't think she could bear it. I been her Papa mosta the time she's been alive an' I don't want her seein' me different. But the Arena changed people. Of that there was no doubt. Even Smokey Saber, who could find no humor in the Capitol, would kill if it meant his own survival. "Yeah. Self-defense. If I'm gonna win, I can't die."
But that would be stupid. It was stupid because "I want to win," Smokey said aloud. But his voice sounded weak, even in his own ears. It split down the middle and then shattered into a million pieces, and even he wasn't sure if he really wanted to win that badly. Could he possibly want to win enough that he would be willing to murder twenty three other people in order to return home to District Twelve? No. Not twenty three other people. Most of them will kill one another, and all of them are going to be out to kill you. If you're lucky, you might only have to kill one. If you're really lucky, some disaster or muttation will take out all of the others and you'll be left standing by yourself. Yeah. He could only get that lucky. So Smokey cleared his throat and said again, more loudly, with more determination, "I want to win." Winning was the only way to survive, and for Bethany's sake, he was going to survive. It's not convincing enough. Make them know that you mean it. Tell them! All of them! "I want to win!" The heads of a couple of the trainers rose to look at him, nervous glances exchanging between several, and Smokey raised his chin. I'm goin' home to Bethany. It don't matter who I gotta kill, I'm goin' home to Bethany.
It was with that determination in his mind that Smokey squared his shoulders with a sort of surreal authority and marched his way into the room so that he could stand in the middle and look around at the others who had already gathered. Some stations were already in use, but there were a few that were empty. Most of the more physical stations were already taken, and in spite of his social nature, Smokey didn't really want to be around people at the moment. Who wants to get to know and like the people they're going to have to kill just to have the privilege of returning home to their home district? And I don't even want to go home if it means facin' Aisley's family! There just ain't no way I'm goin' into this room thinkin' about meetin' an' likin' all these people who ain't gonna be my friends when this is over. 'Cause I gotta win. Which means they ain't gonna. These were the facts of the Arena. No friend he made now was going to be there when it was all over.
The combat stations seemed to be the most popular, so Smokey naturally avoided them, gravitating instead toward a station that seemed relatively peaceful. He glanced over at the knife area and flinched, remembering his recent encounter with the butchers at the Hob. That's what they are. Bloody butchers. I don' want that kinda blood on my hands. How could they? But he didn't hate the careers or the others who were already training for combat. He just didn't want to get to know them, at least not yet. No matter how much they fumbled, to Smokey it looked like they were showing off, and all he could think was that his best defense would be...
"Self defense?" the trainer asked as Smokey nearly bumped into him. He blinked several times, slowly coming into himself, focusing on the look of the tall, slender man with long, lean muscles and sinewy arms who looked at him with a curious expression in his unnaturally green eyes. Smokey nodded. "Yeah. That's just what I was thinkin'. Self defense." If he could avoid having to actually hurt somebody in the Arena, that was preferable, for sure. If my instincts are gonna work like that, I guess I might as well keep trustin' 'em. Maybe I'll make it outta this thing alive after all.
But Smokey knew that going up against the careers, he didn't have much of a chance. He sighed, then shook his head. Whatever happens, I sure as hell ain't gonna let 'em just kill me there on the spot. I'm gonna do my best to survive this thing with a little bit of my dignity intact. I just hope Beth don't gotta see me kill nobody in that Arena. I don't think she could bear it. I been her Papa mosta the time she's been alive an' I don't want her seein' me different. But the Arena changed people. Of that there was no doubt. Even Smokey Saber, who could find no humor in the Capitol, would kill if it meant his own survival. "Yeah. Self-defense. If I'm gonna win, I can't die."
From here. There was a lot of formatting on the post but since it's almost the same color as the background here, I removed all the formatting. I was going to share my PTS, but since it's not posted publicly on that site yet, I felt uncomfortable doing it. Besides, it's monstrous at 3000+ words long! This was a thread starter.
Hello! My name is Devin and I've been roleplaying for fifteen years.
My characters play-by is Hugh Laurie and my application is ROCKIN! Don't you love him? so sort me already!
My characters play-by is Hugh Laurie and my application is ROCKIN! Don't you love him? so sort me already!
