#Robert Sheehan gif hunt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

algosnostos · 10 months

Text

⧫ [ playlist ] ⧫ [ pinterest ] ⧫ [ answered ] ⧫ [ starters ] ⧫

《 robert sheehan. genderfluid, he/her. comet neowise- sleeping at last 》 oh my, there goes JUNIPER JONES. the 33 year old SELKIE is currently working at UNEMPLOYED. they’ve been in salem, ma for 1 WEEK. they are known around town as THE HUNTED. i have a feeling they AREN’T aware of what’s going on in town, and they are NEUTRAL. hopefully, because they are known to be AFFECTIONATE and INTUITIVE while also being WITHDRAWN and SELF DESTRUCTIVE, they will survive. i guess only time will tell.

&. origins and family

FULL NAME: Juniper Jones NICKNAME(S): June, it's all he was able to get out the first time someone asked her name before choking up, and it's close enough that it doesn't bother her. DATE OF BIRTH: January 9th, 1990 AGE: 33 GENDER + PRONOUNS: Genderfluid, he/her PLACE OF BIRTH: Roan Inish, Ireland PARENTS: Juniper's parents are as unknown to him as any of his past; selkies raise offspring in pods as opposed to family units anyways, so it's really not as uncommon or upsetting as it sounds. Generally speaking, a juvenile selkie would have any number of reliable adult figures to depend upon. SIBLINGS: None, June was the first and last pup her pod. RELATIONSHIP WITH FAMILY: None. They were all either killed or taken by the same poachers that captured Juniper, and the few he was taken alongside were quickly sold off to different buyers across the world. PETS: None. Not very partial to the idea of pets, either. Why can't you eat them?

&. physical

HEIGHT: 6′ BUILD: An absolute beanpole of a lad. Carries it well when healthy, more willowy and lean as opposed to frail. NATIONALITY: Irish ETHNICITY: Caucasian DISTINGUISHING FACIAL FEATURES: Big, eternally mournful eyes. Strong nose. HAIR COLOR: Dark brown with lighter brown highlights due to spending so much time in the sun. USUAL HAIR STYLE: Never does much with it, just lets it be in its natural curly state. At the very most, he will tie it back in a pony, if it's an exceptionally hot day and the humidity gets to be too much. EYE COLOR: Green COMPLEXION: Not super pale, just due to the fact that she's been out in the sun for weeks on end at this point; like white people's version of golden. Clear skin, not much in the way of freckles or moles, just a few worry lines starting to crop up between his brows. DISABILITIES: Selective mutism due to trauma WHAT DO THEY CONSIDER THEIR BEST FEATURE: Juniper has quite literally never thought about himself in that way before. WORST THEY’VE EVER BEEN INJURED: Juniper has spent the vast majority of his life with any number of injuries, be it bruises, cuts, sprained joints, etc. But the worst injury would probably have to be from when he was about 20; one of the newer humans his captors had brought around had been having second thoughts, and tried to help Juniper escape. It was impulsive and poorly thought out, and ended with the human dead and June sporting a broken arm and a broken will.

&. appearance

FAVORITE OUTFIT: Hates the feel of most clothes, truth be told. Will not suffer a pair of shoes or a close fitting shirt. Very fond of soft, flowy things- oversized button downs and cardigans, skirts, caftans (a very nice old lady human introduced him to caftans at the beach one day and changed his life). Absolutely adores crazy patterned, brightly colored things, after decades of only seeing the plain neutral colored clothing the humans who kept him wore. GLASSES? CONTACTS?: Neither. PERSONAL HYGIENE: Clean, when encouraged. Still not sold on baths and showers when the ocean is RIGHT THERE. Sneaks tastes of shampoos and soaps that smell a little too nice. JEWELRY? TATTOOS? PIERCINGS?: Loves all of the above! Big fan of trinkets, likes to braid pretty much anything shiny and fun into her hair when bored. Currently has no piercings or tattoos but will have several of each later on. WHAT DOES THEIR VOICE SOUND LIKE?: Utterly wrecked, on the rare occasion June does speak. Rough and underused, but still with an almost musical quality, like an untuned instrument. ACCENT?: Thick Irish accent, makes it even harder to understand when she speaks. UNIQUE MANNERISMS/PHYSICAL HABITS: Nervous biter, will bite on anything- fingernails, pens, anything within biting distance. LEFT HANDED OR RIGHT?: Left handed DO THEY WORK OUT/EXERCISE?: Not really, and certainly not with any intention of seeking exercise. Loves long walks around town, and swims basically every second he can.

&. beliefs and intellect

KNOWN LANGUAGES: Gaelic, passable English, VERY basic sign ZODIAC: Capricorn GIFTS/TALENTS: Seal form (cannot transform without coat), Selkie's Call (a multipurpose gift, used both as a way to protect selkie pods, and to help of age selkies find potential mates during mating season. Mostly uncontrollable, but intensifies depending on hormones and stress levels. Basically just nudges safe, well intentioned people your way.) RELIGIOUS STANCE: None. PET PEEVES: Longwinded people, most humans in general, most technology, dry skin, all of the small animals on land that you are expressly NOT allowed to hunt and eat. OPTIMIST OR PESSIMIST: Pessimist EXTROVERT OR INTROVERT: Introvert

&. intimacy and relationships

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Pansexual IDEAL MATE/QUALITIES THEY LOOK FOR IN MATE: Someone gentle, ultimately. Someone who isn't going to push and take and hurt. Also tall. EVER BEEN IN LOVE?: Not yet… WHAT��S THEIR LOVE LANGUAGE?: Physical touch. MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN THEIR LIFE?: ... Pass...

&. vocation

LEVEL OF EDUCATION: Nothing beyond what little homeschooling he received as a child, and then only the very bare minimum needed to complete the tasks the humans demanded of him- Juniper can read enough to follow a recipe or a short list of tasks, same with math. Loves maps and is very skilled at reading and creating them. PROFESSION: None. PAST OCCUPATIONS: None. PASSIONS: learning about life on land, ships, the ocean, sewing WHICH IS MORE IMPORTANT – MONEY OR DOING SOMETHING THEY LOVE?: Doing something she loves.

&. secrets

PHOBIAS: Nets, guns, large crowds LIFE GOALS: To be left alone. GREATEST FEARS: someone stealing his coat again, captivity. MOST EMBARRASSING THING EVER TO HAPPEN TO THEM: The first time he tried to walk in shoes- looked like those videos of dogs wearing snow boots. SOMETHING THEY’VE NEVER TOLD ANYONE: It seems silly and childish now, but what got Juniper through the bulk of his captivity was the thought of his mate. Selkies don't have soulmates, or destined mates, or anything so magical as all that, but they do mate for life, and the idea of that, of finding someone who would be kind, and not leave, was enough to keep him hopeful.

&. preferences

HOBBIES: Long walks around town, swimming, amateur topography FAVORITE COLOR: Deep dark brown, like soil or treebark FAVORITE SMELL: Anything herbaceous FAVORITE FOOD: Not a fan of most human foods, but adores, for some reason, chicken pot pie. FAVORITE BOOK: The Velveteen Rabbit (Juniper discovers the library and it's daily children's reading circle, and he loiters in the back, soaking up every word. FAVORITE MOVIE: Never seen one. FAVORITE SONG: Praying by Kesha COFFEE OR TEA?: Neither, she will soon learn. FAVORITE TYPE OF WEATHER: Heavy rain, it's so wildly different above sea level and he's entranced by it. MOST PRIZED POSSESSION: The bright orange caftan the nice old lady human on the beach gave him, his first day in Salem. MOST USED WORD OR PHRASE?: "No."

&. background

Juniper was the first pup born to a small, newly formed pod of selkies, just off the shores of Roan Inish, in Ireland. For a small handful of years he was doted upon, and their pod flourished despite its size. Two of their female selkies were with child, and due that summer when tragedy struck. A large ship headed their way, unusual but not unheard of for the time of year. It wasn't unheard of for the humans to avoid a particularly rocky part of the area by cutting through their pod's nesting spot, especially during the heavy current season. What was unheard of, was the humans dropping anchor, and throwing heavy, weighted nets down directly over where Juniper and a few other selkies swam.

The selkies the first net had missed, the ones fully shifted along the edge of the water, were quick to respond, grabbing rarely used weapons and putting up a valiant effort. But they were a peaceful, isolated pod, and their only experience with combat was playfighting and hunting. They were no match for the humans' weapons, weirdly shaped and able to incapacitate without even making contact. In just a few short moments, it seemed, the water was red and held the tang of iron, and Juniper was almost glad to be hoisted out of it by the rough rope of the net. It was the last memory he would have of his homeland, that glimpse of limp bodies strewn along the edge of the cliffs like discarded toys before one of the captured adults turns him away to bury his face in their chest.

Memories of his first months, years even, with the humans are hazy at best. Juniper remembers waking up one time (night or day it was impossible to tell, they got no light below deck) and the others being gone, and never coming back. He remembers being forced to transform and relinquish his coat, and being put to work around the ship; too young to be sold off for any real kind of profit, or so they spat; as if he were a burden foisted upon them. Oddly enough, though, even once Juniper reached adulthood and prime selling age, the captain of the ship refused to get rid of him. Whether it was some twisted sort of affection for Juniper, or becoming accustomed to having him around to do all the dirty work, the man was loathe to just let the selkie go.

And maybe it was this odd affection that led to the captain, years later, after one very long night of drinking, deciding to show Juniper exactly where his coat was kept. Dragged him up above deck and to a box by the mast- plain, if not for the heavy chains surrounding it- fingers dug into layered bruises as the man regaled a confused and terrified Juniper with the tale of his first encounter with a selkie, and how he'd trapped and eventually lost her. He told his tale of seeking revenge and bitterness with all the gusto of a parent telling a child a fairytale, shaking brittle smiles from Juniper when he was too slow to react.

When the captain brought Juniper back down to his 'room' for the night, he failed to make certain that the lock latched fully before stumbling back up the stairs to his own accommodations. In the dead of the night and armed with only a pilfered dagger, Juniper crept carefully up the stairs and made his way to the room that made up the backdrop of several night terrors. Snores rattled the walls and nicely covered up the sounds of Juniper rifling through the captain's drawers. Luck was, for once, on his side as he pulled out a long, thin chain, from which a silver key dangled. The selkie silently stole away from the captain's room and down to the deck, where the locked box lay. With bated breath Juniper unlocked the chain, and carefully unwound it so it wouldn't clang together and wake anyone or alert those who kept watch. It was almost anticlimactic in the end, when he grasped the by now unfamiliar fur in his shaking hands and no one jolted awake, or shouted to alert the others. Juniper was going to be free.

So when he's got one leg over the edge of the ship and the captain suddenly bursts out of his room, bug eyed gaze spotting the opened box, and then flying to Juniper with a speed and accuracy a half asleep drunk should never possess, he has little choice but to act or be not only caught, but punished. The sound of the door slamming open has summoned the watch and he only has a few precious seconds left before they come with their guns. Instinct alone has him flinging his little dagger in the captain's direction; fate has that dagger piercing the man dead center in his throat. Juniper lets himself plummet from the side of the ship then, wrapped in his coat, the sounds of gurgling and shouting following him down.

&. habits

#high tide came and brought you in;juniper #who you are;bios

1 note · View note

oblivion-crackships · 3 years

Photo

CRACKSHIP manips→ Zoey Deutch x Robert Sheehan requested by heiwajimasyo

110 notes · View notes

gwennifergifs · 3 years

Text

★ ROBERT SHEEHAN GIF PACK.

– CLICK THE LINK IN THE SOURCE to be redirected to 402 gifs of Robert Sheehan from Cherrybomb. These gifs were all made by me, and are all 268x151. Find all of my gif packs ON MY DIRECTORY at /directory on this blog! (1,033 gifs total)

GUIDELINES: Do not edit these into gif icons. Crackships and sidebars are fine. Please like or reblog if you found these helpful, as that really helps get the word out!

#robert sheehan gif hunt #robert sheehan gif pack #gif hunt #gif pack #robert sheehan

202 notes · View notes

plainglow · 4 years

Text

robert sheehan gif pack

click the source link to be directed to #122 gifs of ROBERT SHEEHAN in UMBRELLA ACADEMY (season 2, episodes 1-5). These gifs were made by me from scratch, and you can edit them into graphics/gif icons if you like, but you MUST give credit – please LIKE or REBLOG if you found these helpful or if you plan on using them!

TRIGGERS: flashing gifs, semi-nudity, vomiting (just spitting food but looks questionable), violence, alcohol

#robert sheehan #robert sheehan gif pack #robert sheehan gif hunt #robert sheehan gifs #mine

140 notes · View notes

riotpups · 4 years

Photo

Robert Sheehan in Ghostwood (2006)

114 notes · View notes

rip-to-icarus-but-im-different · 3 years

Text

Robert Sheehan in Cherrybomb

# of gifs: 84

♡ What can’t do with them: Claim as your own, add them to gif hunts ♥

♡ What you can do with them: Anything not listed above ♥

**Edit** A page with all Cherrybomb gifs can be found here. There you will find all of the gifs. Any more added in the future will be put there. ♡

#Robert Sheehan #Robert Sheehan gifs #Robert Sheehan gif hunt #my gifs #Cherrybomb #Robert-Sheehan-gif-pack

32 notes · View notes

nikkiwriteswords · 5 years

Photo

Something momentous.

Currently doing analysis on this scene (and finding I have a lot to say about Hargreeves, actually), and thought you might like to see this glance and small gesture Reggie does as he implies he killed himself.

#also #spoilers #reginald hargreeves #the monocle #tua #the umbrella academy #tua 1x07 #the day that was #klaus hargreeves #detail hunting #in case you missed it #nikkiwatches #and gets distracted by the tragedy in robert sheehan's face

21 notes · View notes

qunnblackthorn · 4 years

Photo

( robert sheehan, cis male, homosexual, he/him ) rome welcomes QUINN BLACKTHORN, a WEREWOLF. they are 25/27 years old and have been in the city for ONE MONTH. they are known to be ADAPTIVE + RECKLESS, which makes sense because they’re RESISTANT about the marriages. i heard they’re betrothed to BASIL FAININ - a CHANGELING.

Hello! Let me bring you this disaster of chaos and random self-doubt. Feel free to hit me up for plots whenever, I’m always ready to throw poor Quinn into the most outlandish situations and watch him flounder around. Best of luck, he’s a first rate mess and well aware of it.

@bloodwedstuff [repost of this since the first time it apparently didn’t want to tag.]

Some people are seemingly born with madness in their blood, be it from generations or their own vein of it; they come into the world a shrieking torrent and rarely fall to silence. Such was Quinn, a problem from his first wailing breath. There was nothing extraordinary about him, or his pack, aside from the way they carried on about life. As they were not, as most other packs argued, anything near to proper wolves.

They had the gifts of course, the blood in their line surprisingly pure in fact with few humans in the mix, but it was the way they decided to live that cast a shadow upon the entire lot of them. Dogs, scavengers, city-side mongrels by the murmurers of other wolves; the Blackthorn pack had generations long history of etching out an existence right in the middle of human affairs. Or, technically, in the very midst of their towering cities. Which was no place for wolves, not when they were meant to run and hunt, to defend their territory with teeth and claws.

The Blackthorn lot did all those things and more; they adapted. Early on in their line the founders saw the opportunity for something better than lingering in the forests and never let it be said that a Blackthorn isn’t an opportunist right down to the marrow of their bones. So they became what other packs would not; city shadows and lurking creatures in the neon glow. Brilliant con artists who taught their pups the wisdom of how to navigate the humans’ booming cities and fit themselves in. Quinn was no different aside from being born into the important spot of being the youngest of the alphas’ brood; a example for the rest of the pack.

Too bad he was so very terrible at it.

Because Quinn wanted freedom, wanted everything just the way that unpredictable desire ran in the pack. He learned exceptionally well to roam the streets, to be a wolf and a human in the light of day, and he had a smile that could charm anyone. It was just never enough; he was endlessly bored. His older brothers reprimanded him, often, about pulling himself into some sort of presentable shape; even for a pack of scavenging mongrels they still held their heads high after all. But Quinn was starstruck by life, so young, so very eager to explore it all. The war fractured his wild nights and restless joy; tore everything down around him in one fatal swoop.

The pack slunk back, melded into the underbelly of the city and refused the fight; seeing no reason in throwing their lives away by picking sides. They had known good in both, humans and their supernatural kin, so they avoided the bloodshed. Many snapped and snarled that they were cowards for it but they were very swift-witted cowards, yes, and too hard to corner for other packs to bother much with. Most assumed as the cities fell the Blackthorn pack would go down with it. Instead they thrived as the world turned to dust, the true mark of a survivor is knowing when to swallow pride and stalk the vultures rather than fight the lions; better to have a full belly from stolen spoils than your throat ripped out for testing the anger of a bigger predator.

So the ruins of the city, once called London, became their playground. The world fell apart and they established a territory that even now many are afraid to venture too far into; very few want to take a chance on earning the anger of the wolves who rule over their kingdom of rubble and wreckage. It nearly became their destruction though, and Quinn will certainly claim it was his own, the strength of the pack to survive in the decay around them. As they grew larger a fracture appeared, a battle between the alpha and her brother over the state of the pack as their numbers outgrew their resources, and that weakness was exploited by another rival pack that had been lurking and mulling in their rage over the Blackthorn’s mingling in the affairs of humans and turning their back upon outsiders.

It was a vicious, terrible night that most were not prepared for, too many dead and among them Quinn’s second eldest brother and father. There was victory but the cost was a grave one and what remained was a weary, weakened pack. Then the accusations began. They had been united, stronger for it, but blood rage burned in those still alive, demanding answers. Quinn felt the intensity of it when his remaining brother turned sharp teeth on him, knowing his habit of roaming, of testing and toying with the other creatures in the dying woods and lands outside their city domain. It was his fault for tempting them, his fault for foolishly befriending them and leading them right to the pack in the middle of the power shifting between the leaders. Quinn couldn’t even properly defend himself because perhaps it was true.

It was also a noose around his neck for certain, betrayal of the pack was an offense that would not go unpunished but his mother stepped in to save him. Her command over the pack spared his life but it took his place within it away forever and Quinn had no choice but to run. And he kept running, weary through and through but refusing to allow it to show. Right up to the day he found himself in Rome, the sanctuary he doesn’t trust. The alternative has vicious teeth though, not all of his former pack were pleased with the idea of simply banishing him from their ranks, he’s felt them too close on his heels for comfort for far too long.

Rome might be the best chance he has but it won’t be an easy road.

First and forth-most Quinn will offer as little as possible about his past, shift the conversation to any other direction because he doesn’t want to speak of such things. He still suffers horrible dreams over it and still has no doubt his eldest brother intends to track him down. After seeing that anger he’s terrified of it catching up to him. The less he speaks of the past the more he can pretend it never happened, the more he can pretend the more he can exist without being wary of every shadow that crosses his path.

Quinn is exhausting. There’s little way around it, and it doesn’t trouble him very much. He’s sarcastic, talkative and generally difficult to follow in a conversation but the opinion that if he’s going to make the effort of accepting the oddities and downsides to other people they should do the same for him is one he holds strongly to. Then just as quickly he’ll tip into bland indifference, boredom plagues him. His downsides are a bit harder to navigate, he’s a dramatic, argumentative sort, sometimes to a fault and rather stubborn, but nobody’s perfect.

As it is with most wolves, Quinn values loyalty a great deal. Once his is earned, which doesn’t take as much work as it should, he’s not likely to turn his back on anyone. He might tell them to their face he thinks something they do is foolish but he’s the type to be there for whatever terrible idea it is regardless. He’s devoted to those he is close to, even if he’s just as likely to playfully push buttons as he is to do anything else.

A creature of the pack; he does not do well solitary. Quinn is afflicted by misery when alone and he does everything in his power to avoid it. His decisions are often questionable as it is but when it comes to finding a comfortable spot around others he’s a real master at worming his way into peoples’ graces because he is exceptionally earnest and accepting. He needs people, he’s lost everything else; being all alone is the worst fate he can imagine.

That doesn’t exactly extend to the idea of being pushed off onto some poor soul in the idea of marriage. It’s downright offensive, actually. Pack mentality, wolf mentality, puts a high value on the idea of connections and bonds, and mates, and frankly the idea of a stranger being expected to hold that spot? He’s still got his hackles up about it, that’s not likely to be an easy situation for anyone to walk into. He has every intention of avoiding it as long as possible.

Unpredictable tends to be Quinn’s main direction in life. He is a very sharp survivor and thinks on his feet faster than most, but his attention often wavers and he simply cannot help but fall victim to the extremes in his own emotions. Which means everyone around him has to suffer it as well, misery loves company after all. He’ll take whatever risk crosses his mind, what does he have to lose? He’s a hedonistic sort who never grew out of it, the only difference is now he has grief to haunt him and make the need to experience life all the more dire. Missing out on anything is a missed chance, he doesn’t want to leave any path unexplored.

Other wolves might know of him, the Blackthorns were rather distinct and a bit notorious for their odd ways of life. They also weren’t viewed in a very positive light and generally considered the last bunch anyone would want to trust. Those opinions don’t bother Quinn, but he does know that it keeps most other wolves at a distance. He doesn’t see rejoining a pack in his near future because he can’t fathom one would have him.

In spite of everything he’s not one to get too drug down by life, rather optimistic and unrealistic in his views that things will turn out good enough in the end. Sometimes it’s all he has left, that conviction. And why not? He’s seen what he thinks must have been the worst so things have to get better in comparison to what they used to be.

Oddly, even if he doesn’t look it, Quinn isn’t one to back down when cornered or his teeth are bared. He’s bolder as a wolf than a human, certainly, and he’s faster on his feet than he is strong but that doesn’t mean he’s a pushover by any means. It’s more the fact that he won’t stop, blood rage and blind intention, until he physically cannot take anymore. It’s the sort of brutal necessity that his pack taught; too often if other wolves challenged them it was with intent to kill. He very rarely uses that humanoid wolf form in a fight, or at all, finding it awkward to manage, and prefers to be fully human or fully wolf.

Quinn is a pack-rat. He adores collecting the oddest things and his tiny little apartment home is proof of that much; it’s a bit cluttered and something is nearly always falling over. He loses things more often than he keeps up with them, but it doesn’t matter much. He also has a fascination with books and amasses them, he’s probably read more than he can recall and is constantly curious over new stories.

Rather than take advantage of the usual comforts of his own apartment, Quinn still holds to some old habits. Growing up it was rare to stay one spot too long, even rarer to have much personal space. The excess of it, even though his place is small by most standards, feels strange. He still hasn’t gotten used to the exposed feeling of a bed, prefers to keep his matress in the closet and sleep there.

It’s usually up for debate just how it is he pays for his existence, but the truth is he’s good at finding ways to make ends meet. There’s few jobs he won’t take on, or hasn’t in the past, from the legal to the less than so degree, and he usually has enough in his bank account to stay on his feet comfortably enough. His morals are always a bit shifty though, so it’s not like answer to that question is always an answer he offers up.

Since he has little luck with other wolves Quinn has managed to end up with a few dogs, three to be exact, that share said apartment with him much to the disdain of his neighbors. The animals are actually rather well behaved, he has a way with them, and more often than not has them in tow if he’s near to home. An ancient pug named Gin, a mongrel named Bacardi, and a corgi named Vodka; they’re quite the interesting trio. He found them along the way and far be it for him to turn them away.

#@bloodwedstuff #bqhqintro #intro #quinn / headcanon #death tw

6 notes · View notes

otherworldhq · 4 years

Photo

LABEL: Gallium. NAME: Brín. AGE: Between 700-1000. SPECIES: Fae. GENDER: Nonbinary. PRONOUNS: He/Him FACECLAIM: Robert Sheehan. STATUS: Gallium is currently CLOSED for applications.

A PRINCE is a creature that stands tall among the crowds. A beloved child, a mischievous presence. He moves with grace through the trees, he keeps his head held high. He was born to be worshipped, and he acts like he knows it. Brín is all sharp smiles, words like knives and dangerous thoughts flowing through his head. They say that he’s the closest thing they’ll get to a MONSTER. They say that he’s the closest thing they’ll get to an ANGEL. It just depends on what mood you catch him in. At one second, charming and debonair, affectionate and SWEET and yearning to be cared for. The next second, a beast with a thirst for blood and a thirst for vengeance, petty and CRUEL and childishly destructive. Adoration soothes him, love piled on top of love and pulled from the hearts of his people. A prince is a creature that stands tall, waiting to be treated like gold and delicate lace, like they make the sun rise each day.

The departure of so many of his people is met with a surprisingly STOIC nature. Chin raised, eyes dry, words heartfelt but shockingly emotionless. He says goodbye to mother, to father, to dearest brother. They have grown tired of the world as they know it now, but Brín is a hungry and POSSESSIVE thing, he does not let go quickly of things he thinks belong to him. And perhaps it suits him to say goodbye –– it means that he can lead, now, that he can rule his people as he sees fit. He means to do it well, with a gentle but firm hand. Cruel and petty nature aside, he LOVES all of the people of the otherworld. Loves them to madness, loves them to death. It is easy, they say, to follow a man who would lay his life down for yours.

So maybe is heart is BREAKING more and more with every death that befalls their community. His people, his merry band of brothers, his fair folk. Brín feels as if he’s failing with every person they lose, feeling as if he’s falling apart. So maybe he’s growing desperate for closeness, for community. He wants to gather all the otherworlders together and keep them SAFE under his wing, he wants to unleash his wrath on whoever or whatever is hunting them. It’s a careful balance between prince and beast, between leader and mad-man. He walks a fine line, all wit and wily ways. They say he might be UNRAVELLING, but he’s doing his best.

NARCISSUS: A pretty beast. He overlooked her for some time, dismissing her as just another pretty face at court, a rival for the attentions of so many merry men. But he learned that he was wrong. She is a fierce thing, worthy of love, worthy of friendship. YARROW: They make Brín want to sigh: oh, darling. oh sweet baby, how little you know, how little you understand. Brín is focused on this one, hungers for them, will not rest until they have seen the light and beauty of the otherworld. MOONSTONE: Rival, revolting. A Queen of the Unseelie Court, at odds with him in almost every way. But they are still kindred spirits, things who take power where they can get it and hold on so tightly. So they must be allies then, at the end of their time.

[ EXPLORE THE ROLEPLAY FURTHER ]

#new rp #bio rp #original rp #lsrpg #fantasy rpg #c.all #c.seelie #c.taken #gallium

0 notes