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Arthur McLoughlin

The Conman

0 · 350 views · located in Titanic

a character in “Take Her to Sea”, as played by penelope lemon



Arthur McLoughlin

Art or Mr McLoughlin
Heaven forbid anyone calls him by his full name

Thirty nine


Raging bisexual

First Class


When Arthur gives one of his charming smiles, it's a flash of pearls against his roughed skin. Bright, toothy and contagious, it's not hard to see why he is so persuasive. He has a long, almost aquiline nose that's prominent from his face. His hazel eyes are sharp and quizzical and hidden beneath a heavy brow.

Arthur stands about six foot tall, with long legs and slender shoulders. His hair is light brown, but because of his Celtic heritage his facial hair tends to grow in red rather than brunette like the rest. He likes to keep it long, but combed back out of his face. Arthur always dresses well, always keeping in tune with the latest fashion, and carries himself tall with straight shoulders and slightly raised chin.



Lying and Cheating Never at a loss for words, continually weaving a web of delusion around himself
Wealth Arthur always knew he wasn't meant to be poor
Jane Cross Though he hates to admit it, he would never have been where he was today if it wasn't for his pet
Women, Men and Sexuality in General Taboo subjects make life more interesting, he tends to be inappropriate
Smoking Calms him when his temper gets out of hand

Liars and Cheats It takes one to know one
Animals Never really saw why people got attached to them; why people got attached to anything, really
Authority He's never had much luck obeying the rules
Sentiment Clouds his judgement and makes him lose focus
Dancing It's the one form of social entertainment he can't seem to get down, he's never been a graceful dancer


Charming, pathological liar, temperamental, erratic, egotistical
Arthur McLoughlin is a great many things, but he is most importantly a great manipulator. Years and years of practice have taught him to be observant and discerning with his victims. He's intuitive, and is quick to perceive personality types in order to know how to best approach people. This makes him impressively charismatic, friendly and polite. He uses these qualities to attract people, control and use them. He realizes that it’s wrong and he knows why society considers it wrong, but he doesn't care. Arthur just happens to make exceptions for himself, believing that he is in the right. In his mind, the rules don't apply to him.

Arthur lacks a conscious that makes him unfeeling and cold towards people when he's not looking to use them or steal their money. He is calm under crisis, like when he's caught in the act, and passive about judgement and punishment. He'd cold hearted at times and prone to violent outbursts. His fuse is short and when something goes awry, like a con taking a turn for the worst, he's quick to loose his temper. Arthur is impulsive and will say whatever he needs to say in order to get what he wants. He can change on a whim; as soon as he spots anything or anyone he perceives as a better or more exciting, he'll go for it.

Nothing will ever be enough for Arthur. He want's more money, more power, more everything. Those that know him think they have him figured out, but it's only a matter of time before he does something uncanny and throws them for a loop. There's no pinning him down, there's no figuring him out.


As a child Arthur was unruly and wild and no one seemed capable of reigning him in. He got in trouble often, brawling in the streets with the other kids or sneaking food from the bakery in downtown Donoughmore. It became a weekly routine of young Arthur getting into trouble, getting himself caught by the constable, and being returned home to a disappointed mother and angry father; all done again the next week. His father would box his ear, his mother would apologize to the neighbors then lecture him, and Arthur would quietly take the punishments but with no intent of self improvement.

He had a fairly good relationship with his parents, albeit strained at times. He never resented his father and mother, but he resented the fact that they were poor. He hated seeing people living better off than him, when his family had barley enough moneye to bridge the week. It wasn't until he was eighteen that Arthur straightened up and understood the difficulties his father and mother faced in the real, grown up world.
Arthur got an apprenticeship working with a blacksmith in town. He quit fighting, sobered up, and created a more mature identity for himself, trying hard to be the son his parents had always wanted. He became sympathetic towards them, realizing that his rambunctious nature had not made their lives any easier. His newfound betterment of himself lasted about two years and in that time Arthur learned some very important lessons. The first was that hard work only got him so far; it got him a good reputation as an honest man but that didn't pay the bills. The second thing he learned was that if he wanted something, he had to go out and get it himself. Life was cruel and unrelenting and would not be merciful on the poor Irishman.

He soon put his learned lessons into action, regressing to the same unbridled child he had been before, but this time as a seasoned man. He took up smoking again, began stealing, fought often and lied more. He began to turn his bad habits into a craft. He lied, cheated, stole and fought his way to the top, refusing to ever be the poor, suffering child he had once been. He became an expert at the art of manipulation, but even skillful con artist like himself knew that he could not do it alone. One too many times he had spent the night in the precinct, or laid bloody in an ally after a confrontation with a jealous husband. So he sought out a partner.

And found one in the form of a desperate, naive but intelligent girl. He met Jane when she was only sixteen, he thirty, and quickly taught her the workings of a conman. Together they became the ultimate team, stealing and lying their way through the world. In his twenty or so years of deception Arthur has come to realize something. He no longer does it because he has to survive, he does it because he likes it, and he's good at it. There is nothing better than the thrill of tricking an unsuspecting woman out of her inheritance, or pinching a few prized possessions off a self absorbed man. To him, the rich don't deserve their money and the poor don't deserve to starve.


Face Claim Michael Fassbender
Color #800020
Writer penelope lemon

So begins...

Arthur McLoughlin's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Arthur McLoughlin Character Portrait: Jane Cross Character Portrait: Georgiana King Character Portrait: Jamison Abbot
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There was salt in the air and a particular bounce in Georgie’s step as she had left her cabin room and was making her way towards the first class dining hall. Her spirit was electrified with the new sights around her and the energy that seemed to ripple from one person to another. She felt as though she had been released from an iron cage and allowed to breathe fresh air. While she knew she’d have to return to her gilded cage, she knew she had 364 more days to fill as she saw fit.

The enormity of the Titanic had been understated in the papers. Georgie could not believe such a huge mass of metal floated above the water and did not sink to the darkening depths of the sea. She had spent a great deal of the voyage so far exploring every nook and cranny she found that she was allowed to. Of course they had only been on the sea for the day and there was a great deal more she wanted to explore, but the possibilities seemed endless in her mind.

The sun was making its descent in the sky at this point in their journey. Georgie’s stomach was growling, but she was quickly distracted by the portrait of colors that caught her eye through a port hole window. She had squeezed passed others within the halls until she had finally found a door that led onto the upper deck.

This deck was reserved for the first class passengers and was quite different from the lower decks she had glimpsed earlier in the day when she had been boarding. Here the children were well dressed and well mannered. The parents held collected conversations and all around her everyone was behaving in a manner most dignified that her aunt would approve of wholeheartedly.

For a moment that stifling feeling began to rise in her throat and she quickly loosened the ties that held the hideous hat in place on her head--compliments of her aunt. These were the people she resented. They were fake smiles and fake conversation.

She closed her eyes briefly and allowed her mind to take her back to the open and wild plains of Africa. She took in a slow breath and the salt filled her lungs. She pushed her way down the well traveled memory paths in her mind until she came to a particular favorite.

She and Abebe had stumbled upon a young lion cub. Georgie had only been 14 at the time. She always had seen the magnificent creatures from a distance and was surprised to find the young cub curious and far less threatening than its mother.

Georgie was reaching out to scratch its ear--

There was a significant tugging sensation around her throat and Georgie’s eyes flew open as she felt the abominable hat dislodge from her head and be pull away on the breeze that had slithered through the deck like an unsuspecting serpent. Georgie picked up the skirts of a similarly atrocious gown--once again a by product of her aunts supposed “good” taste in high fashion--and began to move quickly after the hat. Eyes were drawn to her and quickly gave their disapproval at her lack of decorum as she ungracefully reached for the hat several times; each time it slipped through her fingers.

Georgie stomped her foot in frustration for half a moment before realizing her hat was going to be whisked over the edge of the railing.

It wouldn’t be too tragic, it is a very ugly hat after all. She thought to herself with a silent giggle, but she quickly reprimanded herself for such thoughts. Even though the majority of her trunk consisted of clothes she would rather burn at the stake than wear to dinner, they were still a gift from her only living relative.

“Oh no!” she called out as a stronger gust gave higher flight to her hat. It was doomed for sure.




James stood upon the bridge of the Titanic looking out at the vast blue carpet that lay before them. He was the third officer aboard the ship and it was a responsibility he took seriously and was well adjusted to. He found quickly he much preferred to give directions to men who had the only goal of keeping their passengers safe upon the maiden voyage of such a large metal beast. This was the work that didn’t raise his anxiety levels beyond their normal range.

He glanced over his shoulder at the three great black smoke stacks standing at attention. The great black smoke wound its way into the sky and brought back chilling memories.

James frowned slightly and shook the thoughts off. He had seen battle only a handful of times and they were times he wanted to forget. The responsibility of those lives was such a difficult burden to carry. The few men he had lost during his time in the royal navy were stones upon his back that he would carry until he was laid to rest in his own grave.

“You brood too much.” A voice came from his side and James was startled out of his reverie.

“Beg pardon?” he asked the violently redheaded man--Michael O’Donnahugh.

“You’re concentrating too much upon depressing topics. It’s showing on your face.” Michael pointed at the corner of James’ eyes where there were faint stress lines beginning to show. “You should take a break, go explore a bit, go scope out what ladies might be waiting for a knight in shining armor to come and rescue them.” Michael winked and punched James lightly in the shoulder.

James only shook his head. He had known Michael only a couple of months, but the burly Irishman meant well.

He took the man’s advice, if only to escape him, and went down to the first class promenade deck. He caught sight of a woman chasing a hat down the railing quite a ways down the deck before turning to the people around him.

He sighed and looked out at the fiery seascape that stretched between water and sky. His mind was pulled back to a young woman with a dash of freckles on her nose and eyes like that of a doe. James was not here to scope out any women who might be readily willing to fall into the bed of an officer. In fact, he rather fancied forgetting one woman who had left quite the gnarled scars over his heart.