Paul O'Brien

Byond key: Tipsyrooster
Character name: Paul O'Brien
Age: 16
Sex: M
Desired parent: Artemis
Fatal Flaw: Sentimentality - Despite his outward reservations, Paul is a young man who feels strongly about many things, simply choosing not to voice his thoughts in most cases. His feelings get in the way, much of the time, and cause an indecisiveness that could cost him dearly.

Appearance: Paul O'Brien is a tall young man, with light brown eyes and strawberry blonde hair. his features are well-defined and almost statuesque, a perfect match to his most often stoic behaviors. His expression is most often a pensive thing, and his mouth is most always curved down in a contemplative frown.

Why does this character match the parent?:

Since he was a child, Paul never much cared for the company of others. There were his grandparents, who cared for him in the stead of his deceased mother and absent father, and truly nobody else. He lived with his kind and elderly caretakers on a farm in Tennessee, and went to school, like all children did. But due to several learning disabilities, he struggled to find it as anything more than a tough pill he had to swallow.

But as he grew older, he learned many practical skills, from both of those who raised him. From his grandmother, Beth O'Brien, he learned to knit, and sew, and make his own clothes. As a less fortunate family, most of his clothes were homemade, and were incredibly plain. But the most important skill he learned from her was that of musical ability. So many days he would come home to the sound of his grandmother playing the piano, and watch her fingers dance along the keys. She was an old woman, but she had the grace of one who once dreamed of performing. And soon enough, she would impart onto Paul the proper way to play. From there, he taught himself to play the guitar, and the bass, and whatever other instrument he could get his hands on in school. Yet he never got quite the joy from any of them as he did that grand piano, on that farm.

As for his grandfather, Ryan O'Brien, from him he learned the value of hard work, and the rewards it produced when one was diligent enough. Paul can always recall when he turned 13 years old, the BB gun his grandfather got him, teaching him to shoot. To the old man's bewilderment, and the incessant worry of his grandmother, Paul was a far better shot than he ever had any right to be. And so he'd practice often, in the dead of night when his family was fast asleep, out past the old barn, shooting tin cans and, more rarely, vermin which tried to stray onto their farm, scaring the critters off.

Paul made it a point never to kill these animals, but when he turned 16, something would change, and with it, the course of his life. Old Ryan O'Brien brought the young man out to the woods, for their first hunt. It was the end of spring, and hunting season was nearing its end. The pair was to go on a weekend long camping trip, and hoped to take home an impressive game. It wasn't something he much showed, but Paul was nervous as they set into those woods the first day.

It was Paul who found the first prints, an unnatural bed of golden leaves around them. But after many more hours of searching, they had found nothing, and Paul thought perhaps this hunting thing wasn't for him, after all. His grandfather said they would set up camp, and without much hassle, they did so. And there, under the stars, Paul lost himself, staring up to the sky, uncertain about what it was all for. The older O'Brien took notice, and told him a story.

The story of his mother, and of Paul's own birth.

He spoke of Heather O'Brien, the woman who fell in love with a handsome musician, and was inevitably cast aside when he once again felt the call of the road. Ryan spoke of how strong that woman was, how bright and almost unbothered she seemed by the fact. She was a strong woman, and she carried on as well as she carried the new life within herself. It was only when she went into labor early, miles from the nearest hospital, out on the edge of their fields , where problems arose.

Heather's pain was excruciating as she yelled under the moon of dusk, the moon having just peeked from its place of rest. And with only the old man at her side, caught in a terrible panic.. Until a stranger came from the treeline, glowing under the lunar body above. Paul's grandfather described her in a vividly strange way.. That she terrified with every graceful step, holding the looks of a model prepared to commit murder.

And that woman shoved Ryan O'Brien aside, and with tender words and confident motions, eased the nerves of Paul's mother. She took her hand, and steadied her breathing. She told her, or as Ryan told, commanded, that everything would be fine. And after hours of pain, just before dawn's light, was Paul born. He was in that stranger's arms for only a moment before Heather practically snatched him away, crying and overjoyed with the life she'd made...

It was a great story, and even Paul found himself cracking a small smile by the end. But he knew how it ended. His mother wouldn't recover from the birth, and passed not long after, leaving him there with all the family he had left. And Ryan, his story done, took off to sleep, the fire's light dim and the only sound now the crickets and stir of life in the night.

Rustling bush caught his attention, and with some swell of bravery over his conflicting thoughts, he set off, hoping to find some answer to the questions in his heart. Quiet steps, careful movements, ducking past bramble and brush.. Until finally, he saw it: In all its majesty, that golden stag, its antlers mighty and lapping from a stream. Its attention was caught as the boy's rifle hit the ground, and the two locked eyes for a long moment.

Paul knew he could not kill this beast. It was instinct, that whatever it was, this deer was sacred. And so he took a step closer, the beast flinching, but not yet fleeing him. There was a mutual understanding, as they locked gazes, and Paul approached, a hand extending to touch the blessed beast, and a head lowered to allow him.

But fate struck cruel, and with a rumble of the Earth, the two pulled away from one another. And from the ground came a massive scorpion, maw dripping green, and claws clacking in a way most sinister. Paul didn't know what to do. He was frozen, helpless, and as the mighty tail of the beast came down? Certain he would die.

But with a scream of caution did a body shove him from the way, and when he had regained his bearings saw his grandfather sprawled out there, a large wound in his back, writhing in pain. But he had no time to cry out for his wounded kin, as the beast stayed upon him. With a frightened start, he dashed forth, splashing quickly over the shallow stream, and narrowly ducking the razor-like claws of the monstrous thing. Its tail crashing seconds after, the shaft brushing along his back as he barely dodged certain demise.

With a final dive, did Paul reach his rifle. And with a click deafening the chitter, did all go silent for him. It wasn't a panic, it felt as though time slowed. His adrenaline caused his hands to still, and his eyes honed in to focus on his target. The tail of the beast was already moving, and as he saw it come toward him, he lined up a shot. With the moon at his back, he had scarely any light.. But enough to see the glisten in its maw. There was no armor, there.

A gunshot rang out, and the stinger of the mighty Scorpius the last thing he felt, before a few hoarse words from a voice most strange:

"What a unfortunately lucky boy we have here.." And as the venom coursed, he slipped into the dark.

And snapped awake to the light of sunrise break upon him, not at his camp, but his home, in his bed. And for a moment, he thought it was all a dream. And just as quickly as he rushed to the door did a voice call out.

"Easy there, boy, no need to rush. The old man is fine." And he turned to face that man. An average, bearded man, with a cane.. And upon that cane a living snake, which made him fall over as it hissed. "And he doesn't remember a thing. So, why don't you come with me, so I can answer all the questions you certainly have.."

Why do you deserve this heritage?: Because I'm the best writer in this community.
What will you do with these powers?: To undertake the role of playing a complex character with multiple facets of his identity which conflict with themselves.
What other parents would you accept? Apollo if y'all too bitchmade to give a real nigga his due.

Denied.
You can have Apollo.

AAAND I guess if you rp being a real badass hunter, you can get a respec later with the Artemis blessing.

BUT AIN'T NO ONE GETTING IT DAY 1.

Yeah alright, that's about what I expected.