OC APPLICATION THREAD
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LJ name: vpshinra
Other characters currently played [ name :: series :: lj username]: Styles :: The State Within :: under_secretary
Saya :: OC :: repairedbywebs
Cassidy :: Preacher :: blood_over_beer
Lee :: Smoke and Shadows :: killerdimples
Destruction :: The Sandman :: gone_creating
Desire :: The Sandman :: thresheld
Boy Blue :: Fables :: playstheblues
E-mail: Presidentshinra@gmail.com
AIM/messenger: ShinRa Brat
Character: Eden Mac Cionaoith
Abilities: Magician. She’s handy with a gun, and has a good shot. Has never been caught smuggling anything, which is why she’s sought after. Speaks Irish Gaelic, English and gutter Spanish.
Flaws/weaknesses: Eden has very little sense of loyalty to people, although to causes she’s immovable. She believes that people are inherently transient creatures and shouldn’t be trusted, and she equates trust with loyalty, so she doesn’t trust many people. It’s not a matter of being social, because she’s fine socializing, but she knows that the only person who she can trust is herself. Physically, she’s half-deaf, being unable to hear anything in her left ear, which results in her ( ... )
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Physical description: PB is, tentatively, Lauren Ambrose. Eden has a very “traditionally Irish” look about her, but she can hide most emotions and is fairly good at acting with her face.
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It was always quiet when she was transporting the AK-47’s. They held up against anything, but even so, she liked to go when it was soft and quiet. She squatted down against a wall and listened to the night, expanding as much of her hearing as she could manage, her ear close to the ground. It was just a drop off tonight; she had already been paid which had been an unusual show of trust to her that she wasn’t entirely comfortable with. Normally she preferred that people treat her with the same regard she held for them; none at all. The IRA mattered, but the people? They came and went with the wind.
Okay, not the wind. She felt the wind now, chilling her, chilling the metal of the guns next to her skin. She turned her eyes up and resisted to call on her blood, nothing good comes from that, and watched for the signal from the window. Nothing yet. She settled back impatiently on her heels and watched the passing of the cars on the street, one every couple of minutes. What were they doing up there, fucking? She ( ... )
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Father, I’ll send you to Hell if you’re responsible for this.
Food, water, shelter. I figure while I’m here I may as well make what I need to out of it. Anyone know where I can get these things? I have a fistful of coins fished from the fountain but they look like play-money. Am I even in Ireland anymore?
I suppose this is better than sitting around Belfast and starving there.
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