Jameson Keenan; Northern Ireland

[taibutt]

Name: Jameson Keenan
Nicknames: Jamie, Jamer
Age: 19
Date of Birth: May 3rd
Gender: One hundred percent Irishman
Occupation: Conman
Heritage: Black fox
Seed Rank: Light seed
Birthplace: Belfast, Northern Ireland

Appearance: Looks can be deceiving, and Jameson Keenan is a prime example of that. Standing just at 6'0”, the Irishman has a very skinny build; bony and delicate seeming. His face is slim, with just enough pout in the lips and smile around the eyes to be charming and disarming. The unruly onyx curls Jamie calls his hair falls haphazardly in his eyes, which are the pale jade of a frothing Pacific ocean, and serves to give his grins a boyish character.

His build looks very skinny, seeming to lack muscle entirely. This is far from the truth. The Irishman's entire body covered in lean, powerful muscle that doesn't look like it exists until flexed. Growing up on a farm made sure Jamie filled out properly in his youth. The only reason he seems so thin is a combination of height and the inability to keep weight very well.

Clothes can make or break a man, especially one that deals in cons. Jamie's dress is usually a mix of formal and casual, dress shirt with the inner vest of a suit and grey slacks or khakis. His wardrobe is as extensive as the con they're required for, and the Irishman is the king of disguise. No one finds Jameson Keenan when he doesn't want to be found.

Distinguishing Features: The Irishman has a surprising lack of scars, aside from a few stab wounds from cons gone wrong. His one major defining feature is four unevenly spaced claw marks going down his back. These are covered with a tattoo of angel wings attached to a spinal column that is inked down the ridges of his own. The other defining feature is his grin. It can be the most charming and disarming thing anyone has ever seen, but always seems to put people just slightly on edge. There is something very predatory about Jamie's grin, all teeth and conniving. His canines are slightly longer naturally, and the way his eyes light up when he grins has been described as “if he was thinking about how to eat you for dinner.”

Sexual Orientation: Anything with something he wants.

Likes:

• Whiskey; Jamie was named for the stuff, and has grown up with it always in the house. He enjoys the slow burn as the amber liquid slides down your throat, as if something was trying to burn you from the inside out.
  
• Passion; Both in love and life, Jamie goes after everything with a fiery ambition and he adores the way it makes him feel like the entire universe is at his fingertips. He has yet to find someone who shares in his zealous pursuit of the things which he desires; an unfortunate disappointment.
  
• Growing plants; As bad as he is at gardening, watching how things grow and change has always fascinated the Irishman. This can apply to those around him, as well.
  
• Things he finds of value; As a conman, Jamie doesn't always con people out of money or gems. Anything that catches his eye, he wants. And “no” is not a word the Irishman hears often.
  
• Hunting in his spirit form; Nothing feels as wonderful and free as running through the forest with four feet and a lust for the woods.
  
• The smells of the forest; Jamie has never felt safer anywhere in his entire life than when he's surrounded by the smell of bark and dirt and moss and everything that makes the forest wonderful.

Dislikes:

• Being told “no”; Jameson Keenan gets what Jameson Keenan wants. As a child, the only word he ever heard was “no.” No, Jamie, put that back. No, Jamie, you can't have this. No, Jamie, you aren't worth the time. He does not like the word “no” in any way.
  
• Big cities; They're a hazard of the job, but the abhorrent stench that seems to permeate every inch of big cities is downright offensive to such a delicate nose as his.
  
• Death; Nasty business. Jamie's run into and been the cause of one too many bodies in the ground.
  
• Guns; Everything gets a little nasty when guns come into the picture. Never bring a conman to a gun fight.
  
• Authority; Always had trouble with it. They like to tell you “no” a lot.
  
• Tea; His pa drank it all the time and it just puts a bad taste in Jamie's mouth.

Interests/Hobbies:

• Flute; Jamie wouldn't be a very good Irishman if he didn't at least know how to play a pan flute, now would he? Currently, the conman can lay at least four different varieties of flute.
  
• Collecting shiny and interesting baubles; His father was a dragon, and the interest in shiny things seems to have passed over.
  
• Chemistry; A secret passion of his, one which has been the cause of many an eyebrow burnt off.

Aspirations:

• Pull off a felony grade heist; And get away with it. As fun as being a conman is, Jamie knows he can't keep it up forever. He wants to pull off a big heist one day so that he can retire in luxary and comfort far away on some tropical island.
  
• Find someone as passionate as he is; A feat within itself. All the people Jamie has met have been boring and predictable. He wants to find someone exciting.
  
• Find out what happened to his mother; She left on very mysterious terms 19 years ago, and Jamie's father never spoke of it.

Fears:

• Dragons; The scars on his back aren't from a kitty.
  
• Love; Quite plainly, Jamie is a total commitment-phobe with major mommy issues. Even the slightest whiff of love sets him ten miles down the road. Which is ironic, considering his wish for a lover.
  
• Fire; This somewhat ties into his fear of dragons, but Jamie downright has nightmares about being burned alive. The thought freaks him out so badly he doesn't even want his body cremated.

Personality:

Charming; In a word, Jamie is charming. His manner of voice is soft and compliant, always making sure you think you're the one making the decisions. The pearly-white toothed grin he's known for is the icing on the charm cake, setting most at ease. But, for those that are wary, his grin puts a bit of an alarm in the back of their. Those are the one's Jamie puts his best foot forward for. What's the fun in a con if you don't have to work at it?

Polite; To those who stay on his good side, the Irishman can be quite courteous and lovely; opening doors and taking coats and the like. He'll listen more than talk and quietly sip his tea, even if he hates the stuff. The Irishman finds people are more inclined to hear him out if he hears them out first. In any case, being polite allows him to blend into the background, quietly filing away every detail you tell him to be used against you at a later date.

Mischievous; Jamie is a fox, after all. Mischievous by nature and profession, the Irishman was well known in his school days for pulling pranks and tricks. Once, he completely disassembled the principals car and hid the parts all around the school. Naturally, that landed him on parole, but to this day Jamie still claims it was well worth it.

Childish; No one ever forced him to grow up and face his life like an adult, so Jamie still acts like a child sometimes. He'll whine and complain about the littlest things and expect to be taken care of if he crashes at someone's house. Being told “no” can send him into a fit that usually makes it change to a “yes” just to get him to be quiet, Jamer, the whole place is staring at you.

Ill-Tempered; He grew up in the house of an angry dragon, constantly dealing with mood swings and obsessive behaviour. Things like that mould you. Jamie can be extremely ill-tempered and is not afraid to show his disdain for something. If he doesn't like something, you'll know.

Cunning; Fox-like cunning not only comes with the job, but with the genetics. Jamie seems to have a sense for things, knowing when he's hit a sore topic or a sweet spot for conversation. He can tell when someone is lying and is fairly good figuring a person out. By the end of a conversation, he can usually tell what makes you tick if he cared to find out.

Brawler; Having spent most of his time on the street, Jamie is well acquainted with his fists. He spent most of his younger years hanging around bars. He would hustle pool and occasionally, someone would get upset and try to deck the Irishman. It all went downhill from there.

Passionate; Jamie goes after anything he wants with the kind of fervor of a possessed man, pulling out all stops and risking almost anything. It could almost be called an obsession, but why use such ugly words?

Rude; Around his siblings, or those he just has no stomach for, Jamie can be quite rude. He'll make subtle jabs at things he knows you're uncomfortable about and might just even go in for the proverbial kill if the Irishman spots a chance to hit you where it hurts.

Spoiled brat; Throughout most of his life, Jamie has gotten what he wants. If something is kept from him or just out of his reach, the ravenet can through a tantrum like no other. He's used to being pampered and taken care of, even revered by others, and anything less is just utterly unacceptable.

Family:

• Conner Kirkland; Father; Dragon; Unknown
  
• Seamair Keenan; Mother; Dire wolf; unknown
  
• Arthur Kirkland; Brother; Dragon; Alive
  
• Gavin Campbell-Kirkland; Brother; Clydesdale; Alive
  
• Vaughan Rees-Kirkland; Brother; Welsh corgi; Alive
  
• Michael O'Connell; Brother; Hedgehog; Alive

Brief History:

Young childhood [1-5]; Jamie was born on May 3rd to Conner Kirkland and Seamair Keenan. Seamair was a flighty, impulsive girl of barely sixteen who feel in love with a man much older than herself. She wasn't scared when she had Jamie, but merely sad. The ebony haired woman knew she couldn't take care of a child, and thus left him with the perfectly settled and well-adapted farmer she had fallen in love with. Jamie spent his youngest years with a father who didn't really want much to do with him. Conner made a show of being with his youngest son in public, being known as a promiscuous, unreliable bachelor, in an attempt to better his standing.

Childhood [5-10]; When Jamie started school, he was an instant menace. Bad-mouthing the teachers, always back-talking and getting sent out. He was the youngest in his grade, and thus always felt like he had something to prove. It was apparent to the school that he was something of a genius, even if the boy never applied it. Breezing through school, Jamie always had much more time than sense of what to do with it. The police were well acquainted with the little Irishman by the time his tenth birthday rolled around.

Early teens [11-15]; Things started to get a bit more heated with his father after Jamie turned eleven. Conner no longer chalked his son's shenanigans up to games. The older Englishman began cracking down on his boy like his father did with him. Out after curfew was a shouting match, sneaking out was a firm smack, and being brought home by the police was a good wallop. Not long after puberty began to set in, Conner began to explain the ins and outs of being a zuman. He told Jamie what they were and began allowing the young Irishman into the forest to scamper about. Jamie's criminal activity began to taper off a bit. Or, he got caught less, in any case.

Teens [16-19] Jamie's father had a history of disappearing for days at a time into the woods, and threatening the young Irishman if he ever followed. Over come with curiousity, Jamie did follow his father one day. The Irishman never knew what kind of creature his father was, only had guesses. He never guessed what was in that cave. Coming upon it early in the morning, Jamie snuck into the cave in human form. The entire cave was filled with treasure, old and new, and everything was shiny and valuable. He never noticed the ten-foot dragon in the middle of it all. It was too late by the time he noticed, having grabbed a small gem. The dragon lashed out at the young Jamie, slashing at him wildly. The Irishman doesn't remember a lot of what happened after that, but he ended up in the middle of no where, in spirit form, a nasty clod of rubbish in four streaks across his back. Hobbling out of the forest, the ravenet went to a good friend of his to get patched up without involving a hospital. He packed his things that night and left to find his eldest brother, hopped on pain killers and five hundred euro in cash. He spent the next few years crashing at Gavin's place and hustling pool. Jamie slowly learned the ropes of conning, and soon turned to that. He left without a word one day, leaving a few thousand in cash for Gavin's trouble.

OOC

Name/Alias; Taibutt, Nire
Age; Old enough to drive
Favorite Pairings; NirexUKSibs but pretty much NirexWorld
Do you want to be Cbox, Thread, or Both?: Both
Did you read the rules?

Don't be sad when the sun goes down
You'll wake up and I'm not around
I've got my summer, summerboy
And we'll still have the summer
Afterall

He didn't think it would hurt this much. Pain laced through the Irishman's back, sending electric currents down his spine only to bounce back up and smack him in the pain receptors. Jamie tried to stand up straight as he returned to human form, trying not to yelp when spots covered his vision. It took a moment to gather his surroundings as he started toward town, having to sit every few minutes for fear of passing out.

Eventually, the ravenet made it to his buddy Finnegan's house, passing out at the door. When he awoke, everything was much too bright and painful, fire lancing through his back like someone had cleaned his injuries with coals. Finnegan was a pre-med student taking a semester off to help at home, and very handy to Jamie whenever he got hurt. This happened to be one of those handy times.

“Jamie! Aer ye ollrigh'?” Finnegan's accent was thicker than the young Irishman's, and took a second to decode. He blinked his eyes open slowly, jade eyes unaccustomed to the bright light shined on them. He tried to sit up a few times, thoroughly thwarted on his third attempt by Finnegan and the sheer amount of pain he was in. Everything hurt and it took a moment to isolate his ability to speak from just agonized groaning.

“Finny, tat's t'dumbest t'ing ye've ever asked.” From sheer force of will alone, Jamie finally managed to sit up, brow sheened with sweat and his bangs sticking uncomfortably to his forehead. The Irishman swiped a hand across the table next to him, searching for anything related to a pain killer. Finnegan dished him out an ample dose of something, turning the headlight out as Jamie passed out again.

Upon waking the third time, the ravenet felt somewhat better. Or, better than he did before. Everything hurt, but it was a dull, throbbing ache instead of a sharp agony. Jamie found it easier to sit up, chancing a wobbly stand.

It looked like Finnegan was asleep on the couch across from Jamie, arms crossed and looking serene. Most people looked like that when they slept. The Irishman rummaged through the medications on the coffee table, taking anything that looked like a pain killer. He left without a word.

Jamie's house was empty when he came upon it, morning light the only thing illuminating the house. Slowly, he made his way upstairs and packed a light bag, just a few changes of clothes and some food. When he came back down, the Irishman swiped five hundred in cash from his father's savings box.

“Leas' ye c'n do, ye ole bollbag.” The Irishman was too tired to put much vehemence behind his words, listlessly taking the cash and leaving. He didn't know where he was going, but anyone was better than here.

[Carr]