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Cyril Finnahan

"Aetherian scum... I hope you're ready for judgement."

0 · 519 views · located in Androria

a character in “Candles & Clockwork”, as played by Gintoki Sakata



∞ Full name ∞
Cyril Finnahan

∞ Nickname ∞
Rat, Finny, Fin

∞ Age ∞

∞ Gender ∞

∞ Class ∞
Ground Resident

∞ Hair Color ∞
Cyril's hair is a blackish-blue. When exposed to bright sunlight, the blue in his hair shows more. During sunsets, his hair takes a purple hue.

∞ Eye Color ∞
Blackish-blue with the same lighting qualities as his hair.

∞ Likes ∞
β™₯ Guns | If there's one thing Cyril likes, its a good gun. While he dabbles in multiple varieties of weaponry, his weapon of choice is always a gun. Some might call his love for the murder devices an obsession. Cyril even goes as far as to sleep with a gun, with good reason. It's not easy living alone in the Underground.
β™₯ Base foods | Having eaten food in it's most basic form all his life, Cyril prefers simplistic meals. Cyril merely lacks the capacity to stomach high-class cuisines or even simple meals that utilize spices and different ingredients. If he even attempted to consume either, he might vomit on the spot. If something as simple as butter were to be added to his baked potato, he wouldn't even consider eating it. That said, he doesn't mind when his food mixes, as long as it doesn't interfere with each food item's natural taste.
β™₯ Rats | Being his only companionship as a child other than the occasional bandit or thief, Cyril has taken a liking to the little creatures. He treats them like family and even shares his food with them whenever he spots one during one of his meals.

∞ Dislikes ∞
βœ– Upper Class Aether Residents | Cyril has a deep hatred for the residents of Aether. But for the most part, it is focused towards the upper class. Having been left to his fate in the Underground at a young age, he holds the fools who live their lives without a care in the world with the upmost contempt.
βœ– Machinery | If its something that Cyril can't understand by taking it apart, then he doesn't much care for it. Most of the time said device remains there, never to be put back together again. Machines in general confuse Cyril like no other. He can barely comprehend how so many parts make up such strange contraptions. In simpler terms, if its not a gun then he doesn't understand it.
βœ– Angels | Having lost his only sister to the experiments used to make them, Cyril can't help but want to blow an angel up whenever he sees one. Knowing that those things used to be people, Cyril can't help but desire their destruction. Despite this, whenever he comes upon a fallen Angel or manages to kill one, he buries it in respect for the person that angel used to be.

∞ Skills ∞
βœ” Advanced Weapon Proficiency | Cyril isn't only good with a gun. He can use almost anything at his disposal as a weapon. Cyril has an eye for the battlefield, as some might say. He has the ability to spot out potential weapons in the middle of a skirmish and utilize them to their full potential.
βœ” High Immune System | Despite the treacherous conditions Cyris is forced to endure, his immune system has slowly hardened and adapted to the environment he lives in. There is also the fact that he hangs around rats a lot, so most diseases of their caliber would at most make him feel slightly ill.
βœ” Sneaky | Although his manner of combat is rather loud, Cyris is well-versed in the art of stealth. He had to learn in order to steal from other inhabitants of the underground, without their knowing. This is a skill he picked up whilst learning how to survive.

∞ Flaws ∞
βœ– Unarmed Hindrance | Without a weapon in hand, there isn't much Cyril can do. He isn't exactly a people person, so he doesn't know how to talk his way out of many situations. In hand to hand combat, he's next to useless. If caught in a fist fight, he might as well be punching his buddy along with the enemy because he'll do nothing but hold his friend back.
βœ– Naivety | Because of his hot-headed nature and isolated way of life, Cyris is easily fooled by people. He often falls victim to those who appear friendly on the outside, no matter how sinister they are on the inside. Needless to say, he doesn't know how to read others very well.
βœ– Rage Blindness | Whenever Cyris is truly angry, everything other than the object of his hatred becomes invisible. Not a single thought can enter his mind until that object is destroyed. This leave Cyris open to anything or anyone that may attack him while he is in this rage-induced state.

∞ Personality ∞
Cyris can best be defined as a lost soul. Having no clear direction in life, he merely gets by one day at a time. Even so, his determination to survive surpasses that of most normal people. Cyris lives by the code 'survival of the fittest' and commits one misdeed after another without remorse if only to strengthen the possibility that his eyes will open the following day. While Cyris may come off as apathetic and cynical a good deal of the time, he is far from it. He does have the capacity to care for people other than himself and his sister. However, it would be difficult for anyone to break through his many mental walls that he has set up to guard himself against those to mean him harm.

Cyris had accumulated many prejudices and grudges during the year he has known Quinton. For one, he has been deluded into believing that all Upper Class Aetherians are evil and must be purged from this world. Another personal issue Quinton has is the very existence of Angels. He believes that it is wrong to modify humans in such a way. To him Angels are no longer people, but abominations that just like the Upper Class, must be destroyed. With this in mind, Cyris is very self-righteous in his dealings with either, telling himself that their continued existence will bring nothing but more pain and suffering. He would even slaughter a high class Atherian child without so much as batting an eye. As it has become a common occurrence in his life, death no longer bears any true meaning to Cyris.

He still has an ever-growing curiosity of the world of Aether, despite his misguided teaching of it's basic structure. Finding almost childish interest in the tiniest of things that are foreign to him, Cyris tends to pick things up regardless if they are someone else's or thrown away scraps. He will spend hours attempting to take it apart and put it back together, usually failing in the later. More than anything, he would like to know what its like living high up there where pollution and starvation wasn't an everyday struggle.

Cyris has a very short fuse that can be lit by the smallest of insults. He is quick to violence and will not hesitate to finish an argument he has started... through force. Cyris really doesn't know how to hold back when it comes to dealing with people. Most disputes he encounters often end with a bullet planted in between the opposing parties' eyes.

∞ History ∞
Born in the more isolated of the abandoned world known as "The Underground", Cyris wasn't raised around the friendliest bunch of people. As a child, his parents fought tirelessly to keep him and his twin sister, Gladys alive. Ultimately deciding that the earth was their true home, his parents did whatever it took to survive. Stealing, murder, etc. In the Underground, it was kill or be killed. If you weren't strong or didn't have strong bonds, you were as good as dead. When Cyris and Gladys were old enough, their parents passed on the survival methods they knew to their children. While Gladys was more reluctant to partake in such barbaric acts, Cyris was more than willing to learn.

Cyris had killed his first man at the age of 9. It was while he was joining his parents on a raid, targeting a small group of scavengers who had taken residence near his families' hovel. Cyris felt a strange sensation when it happened. He didn't feel any guilt. Nor did he feel any pleasure or emotion whatsoever. The man's death brought unto him a greater understanding for the world they lived in. 'Eat or be eaten. That is the way of this world.' In some way, death brought knowledge to Cyris's mind. And it didn't end there.

From then on, Cyris only killed simply to quench his thirst for knowledge. He wanted to learn more, curious as to what he would learn with the next death. The years of slaughter had changed him. Gladys could see that better than anyone. Her once loving and cheerful brother showed little to no emotion each day. There were times where she was even scared of him. The only thing keeping her fears at bay was whenever Cyris talked to her. Whenever they spoke, he always seemed the same as he did back then. He even reassured her that it was only animal blood that he had stained onto his clothing, whenever he came back home with their parents. However, she couldn't ignore the long nights she caught Cyris staring at the entrance of their hovel, hungrily. Almost as if he was waiting for something to come for them. Someone to come for him to kill.

When Cyris and Gladys were around the age of 12, their parents were killed in a raid of village escapees. The village had recently been attacked by a team of angels and Aetherian raiders and were forced to evacuate to the Underground, in order to escape. Desperate and afraid, the villagers didn't take long to grow accustom to the ways of the Underground. Using their power in numbers, they soon held a force of great power in the Underground, forcing those within their territory to submit to their ways or face death. Cyris's hovel just happened to be just out of range of their territory, for the time being... As the villagers became greedier and ever more desperate for survival, they soon expanded and begun to take over more of the Underground. Forcing their way into Cyris's home, it didn't take long before they had apprehended his family and dragged them along to meet the village chieftain. Hours later, a ceremony began in which the chieftain would either cut each person free, symbolizing their admittance into the village or slit their throat, for refusing to submit to the village's will. To show the captives that he was serious, the chieftain killed Cyris's mother as an example of what would happen if any of them refused. Fueled by rage, his father refused immediately and began thrashing around violently in an attempt to attack his wife's murderer. Held back by his bonds and the hands of his captors, Cyris's father submitted to his fate, as the chieftain's blade slid across his throat.

Cyris merely stared on as his parents were killed, not the slightest inkling of emotion spread across his face. Even now, he was learning from what death had to offer him. His trance was quickly broken when the chieftain came to him and asked him the same question he had asked his father. It was only then that the realization of what had just happened dawned on him. His parents were now dead and he was next if he didn't act fast. Internally distraught at the loss of his parents, Cyris didn't hesitate in answering. Knowing all too well that he had to protect Gladys, he agreed to join the village and was cut free. The ceremony proceeded for another couple of hours. Surprisingly, the number of freed individuals was immensely outweighed by the corpses that littered the ceremony floor. Cyris himself was surprised by how strong-willed and resilient the dead were, despite mostly being loners and small groups of stragglers. He respected them, slightly shamed by how he was unable to do the same.

The following night, Cyris escaped with Gladys to the surface. Even if it meant dealing with the overbearing acid rain and the many other elements that threatened their lives, remaining in the village of caverns was out of the question. In Cyris's mind, it only meant certain death. What exactly was he supposed to learn from his own death anyway? Although adapting to the new lifestyle was tough, the twins pushed through and managed to survive with what little they had.

Only months after their escape from the Underground, a raid party from Aether had discovered and captured Gladys. She had been trailing the tracks of a bear, that now would be considered a rare prey. She couldn't let it get away. Unfortunately, when she finally reached the bear, it had already been killed. And it's killers were lying in wait, seeing the bear as perfect bait to lure out Ground residents. So Cyris was left alone, wondering what exactly happened to his sister. Coming to the worst-case scenario, Cyris began questioning his reason to live now that everything he loved was gone. Suicide was all too inviting at this point. Only in the slim hopes of once again seeing Gladys, did the knife miss his throat.

Almost all resolve lost, Cyris returned to the Underground, relieved to at least be in a familiar atmosphere. Luckily, this portion of the Underground hadn't been inhabited by the ever-growing village yet. Finding companionship with the locals, Cyris began to feel that he wasn't completely alone anymore. Of course, these locals just so happened to be the furry little pests known as rats. Cyris, in his loneliness grew attached to them and began seeing the rats as actual people. Passerbyers and other Underground stragglers would often catch Cyris talking with the rats, questioning his very sanity as they did. Because of this, Cyris adopted the nickname 'Rat'. That was what most of the local Underground inhabitants referred to him as, at least. As Cyris grew and matured over the years, his fascination with death dulled with age. As he was now, he felt that it no longer had anything to teach him.

Only days after his 18th birthday, Cyris came upon a strange device that was supposedly 'dropped' by a raiding party that had come to visit not too long ago. Surprisingly, there was someone else on the tiny screen making an attempt to contact the device. The man introduced himself as 'Quinton Mylod'. Leaving out any other information, the man mentioned that he knew about what happened to Gladys. Hopeful, Cyris demanded that the man tell him everything he knew. However, it wasn't as simple as that. The man offered him information, but in return Quinton required Cyris to do little tasks for him. Cyris agreed, willing to do anything to find Gladys. Content with his compliance, Quinton gave Cyris a little freebie, as he called it. He told Cyris of who was responsible for the disappearance of his sister.

It was then that Cyris's hatred towards Aether had sparked into fruition. It only grew as he learned more through Quinton. One year later, Cyris now knows that his sister has been reconstructed as an Angel. Despite this, his ultimate goal is to see her once again no matter what shape or form she may take. However, Quinton still has one final task to give Cyris. One that may very well help to spark a revolution.

Use of the word 'death' in Backstory count: 9
Underground: 9
Cyris: OVER 9,000!

∞ Relationships ∞

β–Ί Callie Nickel - "Nickel... That's a kind of metal, right?"
β–Ί Clara M.P. Heany - "Hmph. Sounds like some kind of upper class trash to me."
β–Ί Nina Crosby - "Right. That's the name of my target. I don't need to know anything else."
β–Ί Karl Twittz Fitzgerald - "I think I've heard the Snake mention him a couple of times. From what I heard, he seems kinda weird."
β–Ί Quinton Mylod - "That Snake... Well. I can say he's been pretty helpful to me this past year."

β–Ί Isaac - "The Snake told me to watch out for this guy in particular. I'll just kill him like every other ANGEL..."
β–Ί Gladys - "She is my only sister. I would do anything to see her again. No matter what I have to do to make that happen."
β–Ί Jinji Ko - "His name has been mentioned a couple of times by the local Underground folk. Some kinda Hunter or something, I think."

∞ Face Claim ∞
Nezumi from No.6
∞ Gallery ∞

So begins...

Cyril Finnahan's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Quinton Mylod Character Portrait: Cyril Finnahan Character Portrait: Nina Crosby Character Portrait: Clara M. P. Heany Character Portrait: Callie Nickel Character Portrait: Isaac [ANGEL - XIII] Character Portrait: Karl Twittz Fitzgerald
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[Dammit I was gonna post Saturday not 3am Sunday!!!]

The morning parades were beginning and all over Aether the excited screams were muffled by music and balloons. Aether Ascension Day as it was called was supposedly a happy day, a day to be celebrated by all no matter or age or class. But this was a false reality told by the rejoicing upper-class so they could excuse themselves for blowing a small fortune on overly frivolous party gifts. In reality the upper-class were the only ones who truly got to celebrate the day, with parades and tea parties in the morning and after noon then at night fireworks and parties. Meanwhile the middle class would toil preparing the party for the upper class before they would return to there own homes at 3am or if there were upper-class bachelors they would spend the evening in a middle-class island blowing money on alcohol and girls. And the lower class well they lucky to get to go home early. As for the surface well it was doubtful they would celebrate the day they got abandoned. And it is on this day amidst the innocence and ignorance that our story truly begins...


'Happy Aether Day! Remember to grab your free balloon at the gate and thank you for flying-' Callie let out a sigh as the automated message repeated for the third time, the jingle of over happy music could have actually made Callie ill. Every year was the same, horribly joyful music, a slew of grinning faces and overly dressed people cramming close together to celebrate the joy and leaving behind millions to die. Though this year was different for Callie, previous years were spent in her hotel room watching the parades on t.v this year she was going to an upper-class island. Not by her own choice mind you. She had received a very sudden call from a previous employer asking her to pick up a job, it was sudden but Callie had been running out of funds so she had accepted of course once she accepted she regretted it. She was going to be in the engine room of a Surface Craft, aptly named for being bulky armored air-ships designed to fly down to the surface and bring back copious amounts of something. In this case it was Crawlers. The disgusting looking creatures were considered a delicacy by the upper-class and of course there weren't enough to feed everyone at her employers party so she was scrambling to send a team down to the surface to collect some crawlers for her creme. Sighing again at her misfortune Callie stood as the airship docked she had plenty of time to get to the next dock and onto the hunk of metal...

Admittedly Callie could see the benefits of this job. She had never seen the surface before and she had heard rumors of the beautiful Fractal Forests. But that did not change the fact that she was currently sitting in the poorly cared for engine room of the Surface Craft staring at what she could see through a small round window. The engine unleashed another hiss and Callie sighed to see that there was yet another leak. She would have to talk to her employer about actually fixing the engine instead of just patching it with duck-tape. Pulling out the duck-tape Callie patched the small hole before grabbing her tool kit, she had a good half hour before the ground party came back with there haul and then no doubt they would head straight back up so that the crawlers could get fried or however they were cooked. While Callie got caught up in her work she barely heard the sound of footsteps on the floor above her. It was only one set so it could not be the ground party return from there hunt... Curious and more then a little paranoid Callie stopped her work and grabbed her screw driver, [which made a surprisingly good weapon] and headed up the ladder to see who the other person was.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Quinton Mylod Character Portrait: Cyril Finnahan Character Portrait: Nina Crosby Character Portrait: Gladys
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Cyril Finnahan/Quinton Mylod

"Yoohoo~ Wake up, Rat." Cyril stirred in his sleep, rolling back and forth, before finally opening his eyes, slowly. Blinking away his drowsiness, Cyril mumbled a few incoherent curses before shifting his body into a sitting position and reaching into one of his pockets. A tinge of irritation lurking through his mind, Cyril hesitated before bringing a small mechanical device out of his pocket and raising a questioning eyebrow at the screen. "What do you want, Snake? Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?"

A slender man with green hair smiled charismatically through the screen, with his eyes squinted open ever so slightly. To most it would seem that his eyes weren't open at all. "Come on, pal. Is that any way to talk to an old friend?" At the mention of the word 'friend', the man's grin distorted into disturbing, toothy smile for a split second. Cyril merely stared at the man, expressionless. He's spoken with Quinton enough times to be used to the man's odd mannerisms. "Just get to the point. Do you have more information about Gladys?" Knowing the man no doubt had another mission for him to accomplish, Cyril saw no point in dawdling. He casually began suiting up for whatever crazy plan Quinton had in mind. "As impatient as always, I see. Very well, then..." Giving himself a few moments to collect his thoughts, Quinton continued his explanation. "I have one final task for you to do for me. Oh! And this is a big one, so make sure not to get lost during the rundown, alright? Just tell me if you have any problems keeping up." Cyril grimaced at Quinton's statement. While he failed to grasp the insult that was implied, he knew that there was definitely something he didn't like about Quinton's tone. Even so, he listened intently as he strapped a leather bracer to his arm.

"To put it simply, there is a certain individual I would like you to... take care of per say. She is a daughter of a prestigious family who I'm sure no one would miss." Quinton sported a cocky sneer before continuing. "If I were to be perfectly honest, she was a random pick out of a select few, but her death is quite necessary in order to further my goals." Cyril took a pause in his movements, feeling somewhat caught off guard. While he didn't have any problems with killing, this was unlike any of the other requests Quinton had asked of him. He contemplated asking him the reasons behind this request, but decided against it. He didn't really care why Quinton wanted this person dead. This was merely a means to an end. Besides, he knew by now that Quinton only told him what was necessary. Even didn't even uncover his real name after all the time he's known him. "Alright then... Who am I supposed to be killing?" Cyril asked, as he tied the ends of his hair in a short, messy ponytail. "The lucky girl's name is Nina Crosby. Here's a photo of her." At the end of those words, the screen flickered over to an image of a Nina. Cyril eyed it as if scanning every inch of it. After finishing his analysis of the picture, Cyril nodded, signaling that he understood who his target was.

"Whatta you think? Quite the looker, isn't she? Not that I can say she's really my type." Cyril ignored Quinton's comment. Right now, he was only interested in the important details. "I think you're missing something, Snake. How exactly am I supposed to get to the target from down here?" To this question, Cyril stopped what he was doing to look at Quinton directly. If this mission was impossible to accomplish, then there was no use in getting geared up for it. "Come now. Do you really think 'I' would make such a mistake? I've already made preparations for your departure to the Upper Class islands. You see, there is a certain cargo ship not too far North from your position that should be ready to take off any time now to said location. I'm sure you're well aware that after completing my task, you'll no doubt try looking for your sister, right?" At this, Cyril finished getting ready and grabbed the device as he began to walk out into the series of caverns that was the Underground, making sure to secure his hovel before leaving. "Alright. So that solves how I'll get there. But what makes you so sure I'll do this for you, now that I have my ride?" Cyril questioned, looking around for any suspicious characters; also know as residents. Let's see... For one, you don't know the island she's on, or even what level she patrols. You could spend your whole life looking for her up here, with no clear idea of her whereabouts. Another thing would be..." Quinton stopped himself, contemplating whether or not he should continue. "I guess I can let this one slip. Another freebie for old times' sake. Your sister doesn't quite look like her old self... You could say her appearance has changed drastically from the way it used to be." Taking in all of the information, Quinton soon made his way to one of the many mouths leading in and out of the Underground. He knew a long time ago that people don't look the same after they have been changed into ANGELS. But Quinton did have a point on both of those accounts. Cyril couldn't deny that. Over the year, Quinton has made sure to only give Cyril just enough information to seem reliable, while holding back as much as he could for future use.

"From your silence, I take it you have no further complaints? Alright, then! Make sure to tell me once you've reached the Upper levels, so I can tell you where to find the target. Just so you know, there is a set of clothes hidden underneath a panel at the uppermost right corner of the cargo hold. You'll need to sneak in there and dress into them. Oh, and make sure you're seen once you've killed her. That's all for now. Good luck~" With that Quinton blinked out, leaving the screen black. Cyril took a moment to think about this task. He noticed that Quinton had planned everything out up to the point where he assassinates Nina. He left out the part where Cyril is supposed to escape. Ultimately, Cyril decided that he would just have to improvise at that point. Rushing through the Fractal Forest, Cyril made his way to the Surface Craft.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Quinton Mylod Character Portrait: Cyril Finnahan Character Portrait: Callie Nickel Character Portrait: Isaac [ANGEL - XIII]
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Callie was more then a little relieved to notice that the noise she'd heard from below was in fact just a rat. Letting out a sigh of relief that she wasn't going crazy the sound of wheeze and loud pop brought her out of her thinking. Sliding back down the ladder she groaned as the room began to fill with smoke. Walking over to the window she'd been starring out of earlier she popped it open and began trying to shoo the smoke out, but she soon realized it was useless to fight the smoke when more kept boiling out of the engine. So she picked up her welding mask and dove through the smoke to see what the problem was.

After a good 15 minutes Callie was proud to say she'd fixed the engine and the smoke was almost completely gone. The problem as it turned out was a rock, lodged in one of the pipes causing the smoke to build up. Looking down at the little gray rock Callie could not help but wonder where it had come from. Few people had to be stupid enough to shove a rock in such a place. So the only thing that could really cross her mind was that it was done on purpose. Probably by someone thinking they were clever. Letting out a puff of breath Callie stood and made her way to the round window closing it back up. It was then that she heard footsteps above her again. Though she was quick to dismiss it as the rat again she could not shake the feeling of being watched...

It did not take much longer for the hunting party to return and soon the airship was off rising back toward the islands. Callie was mildly disappointment she had not got to see anything other then the engine room but she was rather pleased with herself to hear the engine purring. She really had to admit she was good. Rising took longer then descending so Callie was invited to the ships upper levels to enjoy the view, and of course the hunters seemed fond of Callie and she was on the receiving end of quite a bit of flirtation and more then a few stories. None of it really impressed Callie, these were after all the same men who were known to at times kidnap people from the surface and that just did not sit well with her. She also noted another man on the ship whom she had not seen earlier that day. But she shrugged it off and soon returned to the engine room. Even after they landed she stayed there fixing up the rusty old thing. After all she had nothing else to do today and hey, her employer knew her fairly well that if Callie mentioned fixing the engine problems she might get a bonus. She could use it if she was going to go visit Isaac later this evening.