Important Info | Current Season: autumn 2016
Feb. Spotlight Thread
The Naked Truth

He could draw on Earth's ability to heal and regenerate plants, to thrive in harsh conditions, and that was one of the reasons he was being hunted. That and the ancient sword or two he had stolen from Anghus. Dick deserved it.


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APP Author Alias: Fanu.
APP Author's Age: 31
APP Author's Timezone: EST
APP Author's Gender: Femme
APP Character Name: Atticus Moray O'Sullivan
APP Character's Age: 821
APP Character's Birthday: October 11th 1195
APP Character's Species: Magi
APP Character's Group: 9th Kingdom
APP Character's Face Claim: Hampus Luck
APP Character: Atticus O'Sullivan
APP Character's Story: Iron Druid Chronicles
APP Character Quote: gods can screw anything and anybody, for a reference, see history.
APP Character's History: Greda, Stenfisk, eight hundred and twenty one years ago...

My parents were not of wealth but they managed in life just fine. They ran a trade post which did surprisingly well. It was said upon the day of my birth some turmoil hit the land, there had been a time of peace and now it seemed that such peace was coming to an end. Perhaps an omen as to what would be my fate.

I was born Siodachlan Moireibh O Suileahbhain, quite the mouth full, isn't it? Well, that was the name chosen for me, and in the common tongue my name would be Atticus Moray O'Sullivan, easier to scream or rather roll off the tongue. I was a vibrant boy when I was a youth, full of life and energy. I seemed to have an affinity for the land though, for if an animal was wounded I felt obligated to care for it and if someone thought to destroy the land I found myself quite enraged. So I began to take care of the flora and fauna that surrounded me.

I spent my days enamored by the way the grass felt beneath my feet, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore lulled me to sleep at night. All of this was home to me, and from there I led a fairly uneventful life, but it was a peaceful life. As I grew so did my talents, it was clear that I would take after my parents - who had done well to keep what they were a secret. None in Greda looked kindly to magic, it was mysterious and unknown, and those who dared to flex their powers were often tried as a witch. My family was peaceful though, they took to the crops, took to the fish of the sea and they supported the kingdom in hard times unbeknownst to the crown. Yet, that didn't seem to matter. So, I kept the fact I could communicate to plants and animals a secret

I grew, as children often do, I managed to keep my growing abilities hidden, except I wasn't so careful as I thought I was. A leader of a group of druid found me, they called themselves caretaker f the land and they wished to show me a new way of life. So, as any curious lad would do, I followed them. I was in my mid teens then and I had the foresight to bid my parents well and spent the better part of my youth learning what these men and women had to teach me. They taught me to hone the skills I had, they bound me to the earth with runes. Not so unlike a Shadowhunters and just as ancient, it linked me further to the earth so I could draw power as I would. The runes ran from the back of my hand, to my forearm all the way down to my foot on the right side of my body.

I returned home for a time, greeted my parents and they gushed over seeing me. At twenty years I was no longer a boy, but a man and I mirrored the both of my parents. My time with them was brief, as I had decided to live with the Druids for a time and so I left to delve deeper into the circle. I learned upon my return that I was something of an anomaly amongst the group, not the all powerful oz, but my abilities differed and they often murmured about a surge in power meaning that something quite bad must be on the horizon. Whatever that meant.

Well, I learned what that meant, because apparently it wasn't normal to be able to derive life from a plant, to break down the cells regeneration properties and draw it into my body. I found that out in a pinch. I was alone and fooling around with a sword like I often did as a boy, a deer spooked me and I cut myself. Not some little cut but a gash rather and I was bleeding out before I knew it. The earth beside me was turned up, I pawed at it in a futile attempt to crawl away and wound up tumbling down a hill. I was buried beneath a small landslide, my life blood oozing into the ground and in a days time I woke. I was alive and when I peered down my arm had been healed, nothing but a small silver mark remained where my wound was. I could heal myself in a grand way, regenerate so to speak.

I returned to the circle and relayed the findings, they thought I was mad - at first.

People talk and talking leads to trouble. A neighboring cult heard of my abilities. Aengus was the leader and he wanted my secrets, he also would want me dead amongst a few other of his lackeys. To add insult to his injury, because why not pour salt into an open wound? I stole his prized sword that he believed had a powerful ability wrapped around it. Well, it did, in the hilt of the sword was written the power of nature, the dolt hadn't a clue how to read it. Little did he knew that this 6'2, strapping, ginger fellow had the information he needed. Oh, wait, no, he did know and that was why he was hunting my arse all over Stenfisk.

Eventually, I had no option but to flee, he slaughtered the magi circle I was with which left me the last man standing. I lost a lot of friends and individuals I considered family. I have bounced around all over the gods' creation trying to run away from the beast of a man. Some may call me cowardly, I call it survival of the fittest. In the 821 years I have been alive I have found myself cynical, stoic, world-weary and very used to being alone. I am tired of running and for the moment I have taken rest in a Book and Tea store nestled in Zezolla. I sell tinctures, teas and ancient books to the curious inhabitants of the kingdom and it is my goal to keep a low profile.

In the event I'm found again, I'm ready to run. Forgive the paranoia, I have every reason to be.
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Atticus O'Sullivan

9th Kingdom

My Content
Feb 24 2018, 12:05 PM
The past few months had been interesting ones, there was the incident in the forest he would call it, a beautiful blonde that stumbled on his naked form, that had a lingering effect on him. Then, there was the blonde in the tower and that same day there had been a mysterious blue Magi. The latter had left him thinking, there was sheltered and then there was sheltered, he shook his head and eyed his wolfhound, who panted happily at his side and lifted a brow in question. His hand shifted to drop down on the top of his head and scritch it.

The scent of the salt wafted in the air as Atticus took a barefooted step onto the beach, the wet sand met his toes and although the ground was cooler it didn't cause him to stiffen. He padded toward the stone dike and sat down on one of them, one foot planted in the sand and the other tucked beneath his body. The water gently lapped at his toes, tickling them with their coolness and in the distance, Oberon chased the waves which came and went. A chuckle slid from him as he leaned back and let the late afternoon sun beat down on him, it would soon be dark. His hair ruffled in the breeze, wisping across his forehead.

Oberon paused in the distance, his head lifted and he cocked his head to the side but didn't say anything. Atticus, however, looked into the direction his companion honed in on. His skin tended to prickle when he felt as though he were being watched, he hadn't survived this long by being careless. And so he stepped off of the rock and began to creep toward Oberon. "What do you smell?" he questioned the dog.


"A little more specific, Oberon." Atticus waved to beyond where the dog had originally been paying attention to. Huffing, Atticus moved forward and toward the grove of beach grass. Oberon made a noise that one could only agree was a laugh and when Atticus stood on top of the sand mound he folded his arms. "Should've known it was you, he did say he smelled salt." He grinned at her.

@Granuaile Mactiernan
Oct 12 2017, 12:02 PM
Atticus had one thing going for him and that was the fact Aengus still had no clue where he was, which was largely due to the fact he was ever moving and he had found a way to dull his presence. Since he used his magic he couldn't dip off the radar altogether, but he was sensible enough to not do some in large droves, just enough to maintain his lifestyle and produce the product for his Book & Herb shop. Since he needed herbs he often had to explore the other countries which was something a little portaling never hurt, still, he had to venture out and hunt the blasted things down, which sounded easier than it was. Some of these plants were elusive and only bloomed at a certain time.

There was no way to track them down aside from doing it the old way, on foot and with the knowledge of where they liked to grow. So he hoofed it across the land, Oberon, his jovial oversized dog by his side, Atticus muttered to himself and paused in his steps to scratch at his stubbled cheek. Well, as he looked up he spotted a tower and on the tower grew an ivy with a white flower on it. Jackpot.

Stupid luck brought him to this place or what he would, later on, describe as being the fates. He griped as he peered up at the tower, there was no good way to climb up it and with one fleeting look at his dog, he set to walking around the tower. He huffed and when he found a thicker vine he began to scale the side of it. Up and up he went until he was hanging by one hand, high above the ground, one arm reached out as he coaxed the flower to grow toward him. He stilled when he heard a noise and blinked in surprise when he craned his neck to peer into the tower window.

@Periwinkle Cresswell
Oct 11 2017, 08:33 PM
The plants chattered amongst themselves, or what one might consider chattering. They had their own way of speaking to one another, their roots coaxing themselves to life. There were vicious plants amongst the greenery who sought to steal the life giving soil from others and drown out their life source, and so it was Aticcus' task to silence their murderous tendencies, or that was his way of looking at it. Most people never looked at a plant and thought: That is a murderous plant! Someone ought to do a thing about it! Most sane people didn't talk to plants either, but that was neither here nor there. The tall redheaded man sought to tending to the plants, and it was excruciatingly tiresome. It drained his body of its life giving ability and left him fairly vulnerable. So, while he supplied the store with fresh new herbs, loose teas and essential oils, it taxed his form terribly, to the point that he needed to replenish his system.

There was one thing that he did pride himself upon, well two, the first would be how serious he took the survival of earth. She was to remain clean and cared for, if one thought to destroy her, it was his duty to put an end to such a threat, or persuade it to not be one. Some may call him cowardly, but he thought it as survival instinct, in that - if it came down to talking himself out of a battle or charging head on into one, he would choose talking instead, nearly every time. Only the serious trespassers sparked his violent ire. Now, the second thing he prided himself in was, well it somewhat intwines with the survival, his paranoia has kept him alive for all of these years, bouncing from one country to the next every time Aenghus grows too close to him.

He should have chosen a better name to hide under, however, Aenghus was a great many things, the brightest bulb he was most certainly not. Atticus' green eyes flashed a bright hue before the last of his powers ebbed from his form, they were gone for now. He was drained and needed to recharge, he felt hollow without his ability to talk or draw energy from the plants. Thankfully, it was night time and the blanket of darkness would do well to hide his naked form. The issue was he needed the livery from the local woods instead of his small yard. So, he took his pale hide and ventured to the woods outside of Lamere. Oberon was by his side, panting heavily as he rejoiced in flexing his long, wirey haired legs. In Atticus' grasp he held a shovel. "Well, let's hope we found a good spot to bury ourselves in, you can guard me while I take a dirt bath, yeah? Make sure no one fondles me in my sleep." Then, the redhead began to dig his hole.

It took more than an hour to dig up the earth long and wide enough for his body to slither into. Once he was done, he peeled his clothing off and tossed the articles aside and then lowered his surprisingly muscled form into the hole, it wasn't so deep that it was a plot for a grave, it was even more shallow than a tub. "Help me bury myself," He began to scoop up the dirt, and likewise the dog began to bury his master, all too pleased to do it. Once they were done, Atticus' head and the dip of his shoulders were the only thing seen to the human eye, there was no mistaking the flash of red hair, or pale skin against the dark loam of the forest. Now, it was time to sleep and recharge, so that he could begin a new day. It was easy for him to fall into a deep, restful slumber.

@Delta Song
Oct 10 2017, 08:21 AM

[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 350px; text-align: justify"><br>History;; Atticus was born hundreds of years ago during a time in Stenfisk when Magi weren't as common and back when they would burn an individual for what they were. His family kept it a secret as his ability to speak to plants [and sometimes animals,] seemed to grow. Eventually, he was rounded up in a circle of magi and was taught the ropes, his abilities honed to perfection and rumors began to spread about what he was capable of.</p>
Eventually, a not so nice man hunted him down, Atticus learned of his ancient artifacts that were imbued with powers of the angels and he stole it from Aengus, which is in part why he is being hunted down, that and his secrets. Atticus ran as far as he could, took up a guise of a lowly shop owner in Zezolla. He sells books and teas he has crafted himself. The locals believe they are magical...and well.. they aren't wrong.

<bR><bR><br>Friends;; Atticus is a highly paranoid individual, it makes friendships difficult but those he does have he trusts with his life which says a lot...

<BR><br><br>Enemies;; He has quite the few enemies, mostly those who want to know his secret. He is a magi and therefore lives quite a long time, but he has found the secret to prolonging a mortal life, and inevitably when a magi's time is up - a way to extend that as well. Therefore he is a hunted man for his secrets, and he also stole a few artifacts from someone hundreds of years ago - they appear to have a grudge..

<bR><br><br>Lovers;; Atticus has a weakness for a beautiful woman, he likes to think he's immune to their wiles but he really isn't and therefore he has had a plethora of lovers over the years but never "the one"</center></div>[/dohtml]
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