Brennan stands at 5'10, possessing a shock of red hair and an exceptionally translucent skin tone with faded patches of freckles spread amongst his form in patches. His dialect is eclectic, some times intentionally, ranging from what could pass off as drunken pikey ramblings, to a more refined form of English.
A plethora of self inflicted brands run up and down his extremities, some too shoddily done to be recognizable, others showing blatant Catholic overtones (ie crosses, and other religious paraphernalia).
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Brennan Flynn
0 · 475 views · located in 
Verinotte Hall
a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by CptxMorgan
Description
Personality
Headstrong, bitter and occasionally sullen due to the situation he's been put in. Prone to showing the occasional flash of appreciation towards what are now considered his 'kindred' despite his previous blind hatred towards their kind. His assimilation into their culture has only just begun by immortal standards and it is quite apparent.
Equipment
Clothing that typically consists of semi-formal garb, including slacks, and any variety of button down shirt.
A shillelagh that's likely older than himself.
When allowed, he feels most comfortable with a side arm, preferably a SIG-Sauer P226.
Brennan was a capable combatant while he was still mortal, his turning only served to increase said prowess. He lacks many of the disciplines of his elders, but years of functioning as a being who hunted creatures that could tear out his throat if they got the drop on him molded him into quite the survivalist.
An exceptional melee combatant, he uses technical prowess and sheer fervor in lieu of the speed and brute strength that several other supernatural beings possess. That being said, he's hardly a slouch in either of those departments.
Brennan's experience with ranged weapons is varied but as a result inconsistent. He is most comfortable with a pistol or a semi-automatic rifle.
History
A former slayer of kindred and their folk, Brennan drew the attention of the Vankoryth Detente, an organization he had no previous conflict with. Seeing him as a potential threat, the Detente took early initiative and captured him. Despite his vehement disdain towards the kine, several higher ups saw Brennan as a potential asset and thusly gave him the option of being turned or executed as an example to any hunters targeting the group. In a moment of weakness, the man chose the former, convincing himself that he would massacre his soon to be siblings as soon as the opportunity arrived.
However, once he had an inside view, a begrudging respect was formed. The Detente were certainly no worse than the various missionaries/churches/zealots he offered his services to, they managed to maintain some sort of brotherhood as tenuous as it may have been. Instead of following through with his initial plan, he simply fled as soon as he could.
No contact was made with him after his 'escape' but after several years rumors of his death began to surface in both hunter and kine circles alike.
So begins...
Brennan Flynn's Story
- Seen 11 Times • Page 1 of 1
Brennan was lost, not in the sense that he was unaware of his location but he wasn't quite sure why he found himself inside said location. The indulgences outside should have been warning enough, yet still he had entered the hall. Perhaps, he mused, one could only stave off the basic longings for companionship and merriment for so long before they found themselves out of water and all but drowning amongst a sea of strangers.
However, it would be rude, even by his less than stellar standards, to vacate the area so hastily. With that in mind, Brennan tugged at the collar on his barely formal shirt and began to make his way towards the promised open bar. If he were going to tolerate the presence of a plethora of phantasms and their ilk, it would be with a glass in hand.
However, it would be rude, even by his less than stellar standards, to vacate the area so hastily. With that in mind, Brennan tugged at the collar on his barely formal shirt and began to make his way towards the promised open bar. If he were going to tolerate the presence of a plethora of phantasms and their ilk, it would be with a glass in hand.
Daemala looked to the ceiling as a large crash was heard overhead. She furrowed a brow, and snapped again. A guard popped in the door way. She looked to the ceiling, then back to him, and he ushered away after the sound, up the stairs and away.
She then looked around, as the music took up again in it's tone, and finished her glass of champagne.
Over by the bar, a bartender watched Brennan approach with a smile. "Goodevening, Sir."
She then looked around, as the music took up again in it's tone, and finished her glass of champagne.
Over by the bar, a bartender watched Brennan approach with a smile. "Goodevening, Sir."
Brennan quirked an eyebrow, the ballroom may have been a bit crowded for his liking, but he was already warming up to the service. He waited a moment before returning the bartender's gesture, debating what would be the best beverage for this particular setting.
"Open bah, yeah?" He uttered, the question was rhetorical but he figured it would buy him some time. Brennan was not a particularly heavy drinker, alcohol rarely did much for him but it would be nice to have something to keep his hands occupied.
"Ah'll take a tumblah full of yer finest scawtch." Brennan decided, the words rushing out of his mouth and filling the air in front of it with an accent that even he couldn't quite place.
"Open bah, yeah?" He uttered, the question was rhetorical but he figured it would buy him some time. Brennan was not a particularly heavy drinker, alcohol rarely did much for him but it would be nice to have something to keep his hands occupied.
"Ah'll take a tumblah full of yer finest scawtch." Brennan decided, the words rushing out of his mouth and filling the air in front of it with an accent that even he couldn't quite place.
"I've no idea," Daemala noted, looking back towards the stairs. More sounds were coming from ahead, something large must have been up there for sure.
She lifted a skirt and slowly strolled to the center of the room, looking around at all the present guests. Already it was quite the turn out, she noted, looking around at the array of finery. She gently elbowed Timo, pointing out a woman across the room in a feathered ensemble with a smirk.
The bartender, meanwhile, presented a tumbler of Lahproaig 10. He grinned, rattling off the defining values of the exquisitely expensive drink, hoping this man appreciated the art.
She lifted a skirt and slowly strolled to the center of the room, looking around at all the present guests. Already it was quite the turn out, she noted, looking around at the array of finery. She gently elbowed Timo, pointing out a woman across the room in a feathered ensemble with a smirk.
The bartender, meanwhile, presented a tumbler of Lahproaig 10. He grinned, rattling off the defining values of the exquisitely expensive drink, hoping this man appreciated the art.
Ronnie looked around at the other people that have arrived. Seeing a man who had ordered some scotch, he decided maybe that he could talk to that person. Slowly walking over to Brennan and giving a gentle smile."Hello there. My name is Ronnie, or Ron." He looked at the other man, his green iruses with black instead of whites around the rest looking at the man carefully.
Dakida took a drink of his champagne and looked around as he noticed a woman wearing a red skirt. Very fancily made, he walked over to the woman and gave a light bow."Hello there madam. I'm Dakida." He offered a hand to her.
Dakida took a drink of his champagne and looked around as he noticed a woman wearing a red skirt. Very fancily made, he walked over to the woman and gave a light bow."Hello there madam. I'm Dakida." He offered a hand to her.
Brennan apparently blacked out, or did whatever the sober equivalent to blacking out was, which was also probably just referred to as blacking out. Either way, the last thing he recalled was ordering a drink, one that he never had the chance to taste. It wasn't a particularly woeful occurrence as alcohol was hardly his beverage of choice, but the mystery of his lost day would surely haunt him for the rest of his life or at least the next few minutes.
Daemala twirled out from the powder room, freshened and lively for the evening. The eyeballs overhead still twinkled, illusion of a dark forest stretching towards them. She didn't mind the Crawling Chaos's presence, in fact, she liked the attention.
Nodding to guests as she passed, the woman in amethyst made her way towards the bar, again. She ordered this time a glass of Blud. With it perched in her hand, Daemala maneuvered again through the hall, observing people. Spotting the actress, she waved gallantly.
Nodding to guests as she passed, the woman in amethyst made her way towards the bar, again. She ordered this time a glass of Blud. With it perched in her hand, Daemala maneuvered again through the hall, observing people. Spotting the actress, she waved gallantly.
She smiled and waved back at the woman. "Umm. Terribly sorry, but I must leave. I have a meeting with a studio that I need to get to. Cheers." Jess gathered her things and walked out.
At some point the dhampir returned from out in the square and moved to the bar to drink her troubles away, and to wash out the more offending bits of the vampire she'd so graciously rid the world of. She took the wine that was offered and sipped at it, savoring the taste as a practiced connoisseur would. She nodded to Daemala and then at a few of the other guests.
âI don't think that the definition of 'red carpet attire' is universal in this galaxy, sugar...â she noted at people wandering in with makeshift fancy clothes and cocktail dresses. âI mean, COCKTAIL dresses are for COCKTAIL parties, not grand galas like this.â
âI don't think that the definition of 'red carpet attire' is universal in this galaxy, sugar...â she noted at people wandering in with makeshift fancy clothes and cocktail dresses. âI mean, COCKTAIL dresses are for COCKTAIL parties, not grand galas like this.â
Daemala hmmed as she sipped her wine, watching a particularly shiny neon ensemble go by. Really, the gall of some of these people. Flipping her hair over one shoulder, she smirked.
"Some individuals wouldn't recognize class if it bled onto their clothing. They'd probably change," She noted with gleeful disdain, waving at the actress as she left. Daemala was mildly jealous of studio time, but was having much fun with Timo. Who knew a vampire and a dhampir would get ever along?
"Some individuals wouldn't recognize class if it bled onto their clothing. They'd probably change," She noted with gleeful disdain, waving at the actress as she left. Daemala was mildly jealous of studio time, but was having much fun with Timo. Who knew a vampire and a dhampir would get ever along?
Daemala snorted gently from behind her wine at the remark of security. They were doing a fine job at keeping violence at bay, but did they even know what fancy meant? She could get them a dictionary need be. The woman smiled at her own in-head comment.
"No," Daemala speculated, trying to think if she had seen any repeat garments, "Not on any lady, as of yet." She sounded regretful, peeling her eyes to scan the crowd.
"No," Daemala speculated, trying to think if she had seen any repeat garments, "Not on any lady, as of yet." She sounded regretful, peeling her eyes to scan the crowd.
- Seen 11 Times • Page 1 of 1