Post by davinmcguigan on May 13, 2012 23:00:36 GMT -5
DAVIN IRENE McGUIGAN
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Play by: Audrey Tautou
Race/Species: Human
D.O.B.: June 21st
Age they appear: 28
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Features: Standing at the poor height of 4’11 and a petite frame that practically shouts pre-pubescent boy, it is understandable how Davin struggles with her outwards appearance. Due to her unfortunate circumstance with genetics, the lass often dons older, ‘more mature’ clothing that probably could be found in her great-grandmother’s closet. This consists mainly of summer dresses, feather-light blouses, and a good old-fashioned cardigan or two. While the sound of such attires may make the local fashionista cringe, Davin manages to keep things tasteful at the very least. (She’s too self-conscious not to)
The woman’s hair is always kept short and untamed. To the artist, she has no ambition to try taming the wild will of her dark curls- as long as they do not fall in front of her eyes. Nothing irks the woman more than trying to meet a four a.m. deadline while pushing her bangs back with every tick of the clock…Besides, with her hair in such a fashion, Davin finds it also brings attention to her large doe eyes with dark brown hues. While those she meets will be focusing on them, the lass hopes it would pull attention away from (in her opinion) her odd looking button nose and thin, slightly lop-sided lips.
Sexual Preference [Optional]: Heterosexual
Ethnicity: Irish
Marks/Tattoos/Visible Scars: None
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Flaws/Weaknesses:
- You will never find a person more craven than Davin. She slightest of looks or the smallest of sounds is more than enough to send the artist into a panic. Her house is littered with night-lights, her doors have double the locks, and (just to be safe) she keeps a bat name Al beside her bed at all times…and that’s just the tip of the paranoid iceberg.
-There had never been physical demand for the lass. An artist all her life, she never needed to do a hundred push-ups, run fifty laps, or anything of the sort. As such, the woman has no endurance, no strength, and is just plain lazy. Really, the only thing keeping her slim is her healthy eating habits and high metabolism
-Davin never has been the social type. When out in public she avoids eye contact like a plague and does her best to keep social interaction to the bare minimum. This lack of social experience, however, often makes situations awkward for both parties if Davin becomes caught in a conversation lasting over a minute in length.
Skills/Strengths:
-Davin is a comic book artist by trade. She works within the superhero genre mainly but sometimes creates the odd horror or comedic story or two. As such, she has a talent in taking ordinary circumstances and pushing their elements to make an interesting tale. Also, she’s very quick and talented with a pencil and ink.
-Ever since she could remember, Darvin has had an odd habit of noticing the little things. For example, if she placed a cup on a table and left the room, she would notice if someone moved such said cup nearly immediately upon her return. Some have questioned if this quirk was somehow a supernatural talent…it’s not. The woman is just a touch too paranoid and mentally unstable, really.
Likes:
- Old black-and-white films. Mainly, Charlie Chaplin films
- Swing and jazz music
- Salty snacks
- Being alone
- Dogs
Dislikes:
- Needles
- The dark
- Anything paranormal
- Birds
- Anything adventurous or social
Other Information: Davin has a habit of smoking and is known for going days without sleep when she gets into her artwork.
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History: Davin was always known to be the odd one, ‘the artist’. She never went out to play with friends, never showed the slightest interest in toys or fancy clothes. No, there had only been two things that was able to draw out curiousity and joy from herself as a youth and that was art and movies. Such passions followed her through elementary and high school in which her talent in both fields excelled with the years while, in comparison, her social life took an equally steep plummet to near non-existent. By the time she graduated, the little artist had two scholarships underneath her belt and not one single person to share her happiness with…not that she ever really cared about such a thing.
From there, the lass moved on with her solitary life and studied film in college. Her family had secretly hoped that being in an environment surrounded with drug, sex, and booze, that somehow it would spark a friendship or even a romance for their anti-social daughter. Sadly, their hopes were left unheard as Davin graduated college in the same friendless circumstance she had surrounded herself with for the majority of her life.
It was only a few years after her graduation that the lass started up with her comic business due to the fact that working as ‘team’ was not something she could easily avoid in the film field. (Team work? No, that would not do.) What she needed was something that would allow her to work alone…so, given what her talents were, a comic artist was the only logical answer.
Since a change in her career choice, Davin had been doing fairly well for herself. She had her own home to hide within and was only forced to see her family for social outings during the holidays All in all, her life was pretty content…That was until she received a letter in the mail: The little hand-written note was done in the delicate handwriting of her mother- the content a little less eloquent, however. The demands done in near flawless cursive were terribly clear. Either Davin was to move to her grandmother’s city, Bay City, to keep the old woman company in her passing days or she was to move back in with her parents…
…Later that same night, Davin had her bags packed and hopped on the first plane she could to a little town she’s never heard of, grumbling every step of the way.
RP Sample:
This is a post from a site I used to be on. In a nutshell, a fae wife finally returned home to her mortal husband after being lost in the world of fae (or folk) for three years:
Mairearad was not a stranger to magic. All of her childhood, she was taught to respect it. For her immortal life, she was in debt to it…and for the last three years of her life she was submersed in it. Within her time with the folk, there were the most curious wonders that she had the fortune to witness. Grass was turned to gold, simple berries and nuts into the most delectable of feasts…Indeed, the ordinary in that world was nothing short of extraordinary by all other standards. Magic was the air for the Folk and the luxurious was what they demanded from it…Yet, all those wonders paled in comparison to the moment when Jeremy awoke. His soft stirring within the morning glow felt so surreal and mystical that, she too, wondered if she were awake or dreaming.
She watched him in silence, her thin frame resting on its side to become all that closer to her love. The hazed awareness, the familiar gesture of a hand running through a dark hair…To witness it all again- this was magic to the fae. The Folk could have their false riches all they wished, for to Maire, all that she could ever want was only a touch away. “If this is a dream…then I beg you not to wake up.” The words slipped past thin lips so fluidly that it sounded like notes to nature’s song. As the warmth of his hand grazed her cheek, blue eyes fluttered close to focus on that simple touch- to make it linger as long as it possibly could. “If you wake and we are to be apart again then my heart will break in two.”
The bed quietly creaked as the master moved to sit up. For a mere moment, worry marred the face of the returned lover. There was a look in his eye….a look that she had witnessed one time too many. It was the way his features hardened and his shoulders appeared to take on a heavy weight…Darkness was licking at his soul- just waiting for the prime moment to overthrow the man completely. How many times did she see such darkness looming? It was when he took to the drink, or to the women. Before that, it had been those demons. Her heart mourned for him and his burden. While Jeremy was a man that exposed himself bare to allow love to find him, that meant troubling times also was drawn to his heart. When he loves it is with every spark of his being….yet, when he is worried, that spark of life is nearly extinguished by his own vulnerability.
“If this is a dream, I'll give into my pride and sleep until noon,”
“Jeremy.” The name was no more than a whisper- perhaps, even a whimpering sigh of relief. As Mairearad was lifted, wrapped up within strong arms, she too reached out to hold her strength. Thin, frail arms encircled around her husband's shoulders as she buried her face against his neck. For three long years she had been without this touch. For three years, the wife of two and the mother of one refused herself any companionship or warmth….Words couldn’t express her emotions. It was as if she were a angel that was finally given wings, or a lesser soul that felt the sun upon their cheeks for the first time.
“No, my love. This is no dream. Fate would not be so cruel.” She moved to kiss his tears, the taste of salt lingering upon pink lips. A hand then lifted to run through his hair in the comforting way she used to take habit to. A moment later the same hand had drifted down to lovingly rest against a whiskered cheek. “Open your eyes, Jeremy. I am here. I am real.” A pause as she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “…and I promise that I will never do anything so foolish again so as long as you will have me.”
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ABOUT YOU:
Name you go by: Olive
Other Characters you play: n/a
How long have you been RPing: 2 years
How did you find us? RPG-D
