Ciaran O'Donovan

Name/Nicknames:  Ciaran O'Donovan (Ci, Kiki)

Alias:  Wiley

Age:  25yrs

Ethnicity:  Irish Catholic

Status:  Werecoyote (bitten)

Pronouns:  He/him/his

Date of Birth:  13th November, 1971

Place of Birth:  Antrim, Ireland

Education:  Halfway through high school

Occupation:  Cocktail Server (former), currently unemployed.

Significant Relations:  A huge family in Boston he visits rarely: a dead mom (buried in Ireland), a living aunt, five sisters, and a shithead dad.

Appearance:  Dark, shaggy hair, green eyes, and a goofy grin. Ciaran is 6’4” and every last inch of it looks a little longer than it should. He’s lithely muscled, with an angular face and a bit of stubble that comes and goes, and only rarely turns into a full beard.

Personality:  He’s a little lazy, prone to playful sarcasm, and difficult to upset. Unfortunately easy to manipulate because he's a trusting guy, defensive of people he loves. Flirtatious and cheeky, even platonically, but shy when he’s called on it. Physically affectionate, but not intrusive or over the top. As happy chatting as he is just sitting in silence with friends

Strengths:  Ciaran is easy-going, affectionate, and forgiving. He doesn't believe in holding a grudge, and usually gives other people a dozen chances to hurt and mistreat him before he bothers sticking up for himself. He sleeps easily, doesn't matter where he is, and finds it easy to pick up new skills.

He is, also, a werecoyote. This provides him with enhanced healing, strength, and a damn fine sense of smell. He can shift at will most days of the month, but not during a full moon (see below), either into a hulking monster version of a coyote on hind limbs, or a more traditionally four-legged beast for faster travel.

Weaknesses:  Ciaran is a bit of a push-over who hates sticking up for himself. He craves love, and isn't particularly selective about the people he is willing to receive love from. Ciaran gets a ton of validation from the feelings and praise of others, and attaches much of his sense of worth to whether or not people like him. Even if that affection comes with strings attached or abusive behaviors tied in.

He's indecisive, and likes to go with the flow. Forgetful and easily distracted, both in the middle of a situation and in his life generally. It's not uncommon for him to drop a skill he's spent a great deal of time learning and simply never pick it up again.

During a full moon, Ciaran MUST shift, and when he does the beast he shifts into is a great deal less controllable than he is the rest of the month. He's more likely to injure people during a full moon, and for this reason he prefers not to be sent on missions, and tends to set up a hammock in one of the reinforced rooms downstairs for creatures like Ciaran with uncontrollable issues.

Other Skills, Hobbies, and Interests:  Many. Origami, photography, making coffee, yo-yo, lockpicking, swimming, reading, climbing trees, balancing on every edge he can find, and more...

Living Situation: Ciaran is a new transfer to Chicago from the Las Vegas branch, and started rooming with someone on The Row only recently.

History:
Born in Ireland, Ciaran lived in Antrim until he was twelve years old. The youngest child to a family with five daughters, his father was briefly overjoyed to have a son on the way. Joy that turned to disgust and occasional violence when Ciaran didn't turn out to be exactly the kind of kid he'd been hoping for. Too much time spent reading, too lazy and distractible, and too willing to play games with and love his older sisters. No "real man" acted like that, accorded to his father.

Mostly, though, it was that Ciaran's mother died in childbirth. Bringing into the world a son who hid behind his sister's legs when his father shouted. A son who wasn't sorry enough... could never be sorry enough. While his father drank, Ciaran's older sisters helped to raise him. They read to him, sent him off to school, and comforted him after nightmares as long as he hadn't accidentally woken his father.

At twelve, his father packed them all up, allowed each child a single suitcase of luggage, and dragged them across the ocean to America for his new job. To Boston, a larger city than Ciaran had ever seen. With his father working longer hours, and the children in the immigrant community they settled with running the streets at all hours, Ciaran's life improved. He spent days away from home, running the streets, sleeping at friends' houses. Years passed, and Ciaran found himself relaxed and happy, doing better in school, even finding his first girlfriend who asked him to come over in the middle of the night one night.

Which is when it happened.

Ciaran wasn't born a werecoyote. He was turned as a stupid kid sneaking out to meet a girl who was maybe going to let him see her naked, in a country he didn't know well enough. In the amber glow of the streetlights on his girlfriend's street, he held his hand out to what he thought was a frightened or injured, snarling dog. He sustained multiple bite wounds to the arms, face, and body in the attack. For nearly a month he laid in bed, wounds refusing to heal, pain and fever dreams railing through him. Three days before the full moon, Ciaran took a turn for the worse. His sisters knelt at his bedside and whispered messages for him to take to their mother's spirit when he went, his girlfriend stopped calling, and his father drank himself into a stupor.

A few mornings later, Ciaran woke up in the woods. Covered in blood and surrounded by remains he prayed belonged to forest animals. Newly budded antlers and a few patches of fur were a relief when he peered closer to the gore, a red smear from more than a couple feet away without his glasses.

Not willing to go home, Ciaran took off running.

And he kept running until, a year later and a long way from Boston, Ciaran was scooped up by the Aegis Network in the deserts outside Las Vegas. Initially, the plan was to teach him better control, to give the kid a run down in getting away from other humans during a full moon and not risk becoming a danger to nearby towns. They figured it would be catch and release once they found his parents. Instead, he ended up staying with them. Refusing to leave, making himself useful, never telling anyone where his family actually was until he was sure they wouldn't kick him back out.

Over the next couple years, Ciaran made himself at home. He practiced shifting, locked himself in the holding cells for the full moon, and hung out with the only other kid his age. The adults of Aegis did their best, rotating who was responsible for the werecoyote and his siren friend. They decided against sending the pair back to school and instead gave them the run of the library, encouraging them to read mostly normal human fiction.

When they turned eighteen, Ciaran's friend and long-time roommate jumped at the chance to join Aegis. Ciaran, meanwhile, jumped at the chance to leave. He spent a few years wandering the country, scrambling out of trouble, hunting for food and taking shelter as a coyote more often than a human. He read whatever he could get his hands on, saw a bunch of things he'd only ever seen pictures of before, and generally loved his life.

But it was a lonely little life.

So, finally, he reached out to his sisters. Called them from a phone box somewhere in Louisiana with the Yellow Book open on his lap as he sank to the ground. Floods of tears came through the phone, happy chatter, demands to know where he'd been, annoyance for scaring them so bad. They'd had a funeral for him, that was a shock, and his oldest sister was getting married soon. Ciaran promised to come back to see that, and ended up waiting two days near the payphone answering calls from his frustrated and relieved sisters. Until, tired from a long drive, two of them turned up in a station wagon.

He spent two weeks basking in his family's affection, rolling his eyes at the idea of fixing his paperwork so he didn't count as legally dead, and finally attending his sister's wedding. Another week of being hassled into declaring himself alive (just an asshole) and Ciaran was in possession of a shiny new ID that had his name and age on it. Life was blissfully normal, and Ciaran almost convinced himself he could live like this. Human again, simple, get a boring dead-end job and just focus on playing uncle to the many nieces and nephews that were sure to come.

Stupidly, he almost forgot what would happen when the full moon rose again. When it did, it chased him out of his aunt's home once again. Chased away the idea that he'd ever be safe around his family again, that kids, when they came into the picture, would ever be safe around a monster. Ciaran stole the station wagon he'd been picked up in, and started driving. He was outside the city when the shift came, and in the morning found the interior of the station wagon ripped up like a wild dog had been trapped inside all night.

He kept driving. Kept moving. All the way back to Vegas where he figured the only group of people he could really live around happened to be. When he turned back up on Aegis' doorstep and asked to join up, he got an easy 'yes'. His siren roomie from before wasn't around anymore, transferred to New York, but a lot of people who had all but raised him those last few years were happy to see he'd managed to stay alive and not hurt anyone in the intervening years.

He spent a few years working for Aegis in Las Vegas, earning a bit of extra money as a cocktail server in the local casinos, and eventually was transferred to Chicago when they requested someone who liked research and could handle themselves in the field. It was a somewhat tearful goodbye, and a long drive, but Ciaran is now safely settled in The Row and looking to make friends.

Model:  Regé-Jean Page

Anything Else:  Ciaran likes dogs, coffee, anything yellow, flowers, and thick wool.

He dreams of living on a farm with a bunch of chickens and sheep.

Owns and is obsessed with his camera (a Nikon S5) which is occasionally used to take photos at the scene but more often used to photograph anything that catches his eye. He takes these to be developed whenever he can, and keeps the negatives in a Trapper Keeper in the batter backpack he brought from Las Vegas.

Timeline:
1971 - Born! His mother dies.
1983 - Moves to America with his family.
1986 - Is bitten by a werecoyote and turns. Leaves home.
1987 - Picked up by the Las Vegas branch of the Aegis Network.
1989 - Leaves Aegis and lives in Vegas for a while.
1992 - Goes back home for the first visit since he left, to see his sister get married.
1993 - Comes back and officially joins Aegis.
1996 - Is transferred to the Chicago branch of the Aegis Network.

Player:  Pixie