Post by Cailin on Apr 7, 2012 16:04:25 GMT -5
Name: Cailin "Kai", literally is girl in Irish
Age: 10
Birthdate/place: [1-Sept-2025]
Species: Gypsy
Gender: Female
Family: [halfblood
Appearance:
Hair: Long, tangled flat hair the color of clay.
Eyes: brown with just a hint of green
Build/height- thin and diminutive
General Description- Typically, all one sees of Cailin is a blur of movement or her beguiling smile. Few ever look past the package presented, be that lost middle class child or poor innocent little waif. The few moments when she is at rest or conning someone you'll notice a small girl, barely over four feet and on the thin side. Although she is a pretty thing with her delicate bone structure her beauty is often diminished by her tangled hair and smudged face. Her lack of a proper wardrobe can either downplay or enhance her delicate loveliness. There is something a bit haunting about Cailin, a quality about her that often lures her marks into duplicity. After all such a defenseless little girl would never steal their money. When clean her hair is a rich brown the color of umber, a dark reddish clay. Sometimes the sun adds streaks of fire to her straight locks. On the rare occasion that it is brushed, her hair falls in a sleek line down her back, almost to her waist. It is typically matted and rather dull looking. More often than not, food or mud is stuck in her hair. It's usually tied back at the nape of her neck by a faded bit of ribbon. The fine strands do not stay confined for long, and more than a few cling around her face. Her eyes are a bit big for her face, adding an almost china doll like quality to her. Perhaps this will lesson when she grows into her features. Surely a bit more weight would help. The color is a dark brown shot through with a mossy green. Depending on what color she wears turns her eyes brown, hazel or green. Her mother,who had blue eyes often told her that she had her father's eyes, brown. Having never met the man Cailin could not be sure. From the few pictures she has seen of her father, Cailin believes she looks a lot like him. Same dark brown hair, both short, and brownish eyes. Perhaps if she was a bit fuller she'd be his perfect image.
Possessions-
A nap sack with all of her worldly treasures and necessities:
two dresses
a few small coins
a crinkled picture of her mum and father
several posters featuring the great Conan Brenandan
a broken locket
a water skin
a hunting knife
a faded blue ribbon
a thin wire
a sling shot
four small rocks
and a map of Great Britian
Personality:
Temperment/Mental Attributes-
A jaded old soul, Cailin can be quite serious. Most people can be trusted up to a point. Because people are human they'll fail eventually. She's an alert kid, always knows where the exits are and prepared to escape when things heat up. Despite knowing that people will eventually let you down, she likes people. In fact she detests being alone. Her biggest fear is that no one wants her. That she's actually unlovable and that's the real reason her mum left her and her dad never stayed for her birth. Determined to make people love her, Cailin tries to please people. If someone wants a bright cheerful little girl, she'll give them that little girl. All of her doubts are shoved ruthlessly down inside of her. Never will she admit out loud that she is terrified about anything. Showing a weakness is inviting punishment or death.
Cailin has trouble telling people the truth, especially about herself. Her earliest memories are of learning how to spin sad yarns that manipulate people into giving her things. It's how she's always functioned and by now she doesn't even realize she's doing it. To her, telling someone that her mum is dying of cancer isn't a lie it's a fib. It has a purpose. She isn't trying to hurt anyone just help herself. She's got to eat you know. Cailin's has her own sense of morality. She won't steal from another poor person but will gladly take from the rich or mean people. If she has anything to share she will without thinking about it.
Honest, to the point of brutality, Cailin doesn't have much of a filter. She'll speak as she fits, although she is learning that sometimes people are not ready to learn certain things and it must be given to them in small doses. She doesn't live inside of society's rules. Nor does she give up easily, or when she should. Thick headed, Cailin keeps trying until someone either physically stops hers or she completes her task. She's stubborn and obstinate, quietly rebelling through her actions instead of words. She's more likely to show her anger through retribution than yelling at a person. The little things make her happy like meeting a new person, learning a new phrase, or watching the sunrise.
Years of working the crowds has honed Cai's instinct. With in a minute or two she knows who would be a good mark, who to avoid, and who to rely on. She's gotten pretty good at deciding who'd be best to help her accomplish things. Sometimes she does judge a good person harshly and a bad person with too much leniency. Cailin has a shrewd intelligence for her age and a hunger for learning new things. Although she enjoys knowledge, her attention is flighty, moving through subjects quickly. She detests being told what to study and does not like plans. Formal schooling gives her a rash and thankfully she's had little of it so far.
LIKES
Talking
Novelty and the unusual
Variety in life
Multiple projects all going at once
Reading
DISLIKES
Feeling tied down
Learning, such as school
Being in a rut
Mental inaction
Being alone
Alliance-
Alignment-
Employment&Education:
-Students-
House- Future Slytherin
Year- future first year
OWLs/NEWTs-
Other:
Magical Skills- Anything special? If applicable
Patronus- (if applicable)
Wand-
Goals/Aspirations- To find her birth father
Other Information-
Despite music being in her blood, Cailin is as unmusical as they come. Oh, she wants to be able to play music and what not but really she isn't good at it. All of the practice in the world, and she still can only hit four of ten notes. On a good day. Her dancing is a bit better, but again Cailin lacks musicality.
History-
This is Kai's thought diary as she is a reluctant writer and would never take the time or energy to pen such damaging evidence to be used against her.
Bloody hell.
I've done it right good this time. I'm running away. For good. Ain't ever going to catch me neither. The others though will pay for me defiance. Maybe I can go back and save em when I find my real Da. He's famous for fight'n as well as having a pretty voice. Strong one he is. And he'd be will'n to help a bunch a kids escape. Legend he is. Rather his last name is. The Brenandans help gypsy runts escape their gang. Take em in and all. So i've heard. Have a big brood they do. Perhaps too many to take any more. Dunno. They didn't take me and supposedly I'm kin. If me mum's to be trusted. Say's I'm the bastard of Conan Breanadan, the Great Performer. Sort of look like him I do. Same kind of hair, chin too. Eyes kinda similar but it's hard to tell from posters and a old crumpled photo of me mum sitt'n on a man's lap. Saw him perform once. Might have been four or five. Don't really know me age. Memory's kinda fuzzy then. Huge crowd, bouncy music and me mum was all a flutter. Kept tugging on me arm and dragging me around cus I couldn't keep up. She picked me up when we got close to the shanty stage, pointed and said, "Breandan me girl that's you're Pa. 'xcept she said it in her cultured voice, being part french and all. Came from a snotty family with a bit of bad gypsy blood. Right pissed, they were, when she took after the wrong side of the family.
I was conceived in sin when my mum was a young lady just out of college. Bet they enjoyed it too. Me parent's not hers. Wanted her to give me up, but my mum had stars in her eyes. Couldn't abandon her precious love seed. I was her evidence that the wonderful Conan Breandan loved her. Always said he'd come back one day and marry her. For a bit I believed her. Stopped that when I was five or so. Kinda. A lass can dream right?
Anyways, me parents met at the great Appleby festival. Great traveler tradition, been 'round ages. She'd seen him around and well went after him. Fell in love, had well you know and she thought he'd marry her. Said he would anyways. Went to bed with him and the next day he left without a word. Me mum followed him around for a while but he was a quick one.
Played hard to get she said. He liked to be chased. Fed his ego. Anyways nine months later and I came. Me mum named me after me da. Wanted a lad she did. Instead she got a big disappointment. Well she can just sod off cus she'd have done no better with a lad. Probably worse cus people like girls better. Give 'em more blunt for begg'n.
Haven't seen her in a long time. Years. Don't need her neither since she sold me to the autem mort. Must of been six or so. Poor'n rain when she dragged me out. Had a bad week at the games. She liked to spend her blunt at the local gypsy den, play'n games and all. Had a nice pile of debt she did. Not good at cards. Easy mark. Anyways, she met a nice cove who wanted to marry her and well. Had to do something about her debts and baggage. The gent was well off, some businessman or not. Well he didn't know that I was her by blow. Though I belonged to her sister or something. Just visiting. He didn't want no kids yet. Too young, had to well enjoy the world first. Said he loved me mum and she had to start a fresh. Beside's I wasn't good for much, being just a brat and all. Bad reminder too. Looked too much like him she said. Wanted to forget it all ever happened. Leave the dirty scum behind. She be'n a lady and all. So that night she brought me to the den, left me hold'n my sack with a couple pretty dresses, (she liked to dress me up like a doll when she had the coin), a picture of him and a trinket he'd given her. Kissed me on the cheek, told me to be good. Not to blubber or anything. I'd be looked after. Then she as gone.
Abandoned for love, what a bouncer. More like left for money. Traded me for her debts, she did. Learned that bit later when the missus was in her cups and spit'n mad at me. Never saw her again. We'd moved the next day. I was apart of a gang now. Me and seven other kids. For a while we were attached to a trav'n side show. Since me name was too noticeable, I mean i was named after a legend, it had to be changed. 'xcept they never really got around to do'n it. Always called me Cailin. Didn't know till recently it is lass in the old Irish tongue. haveta find a new name. Ain't nobody's lass. Can't go by Breandan. Easy to find me that way. 'side's not really my name now is it?
Me only friend was Loki, the tight rope walker. Bunked his trailer next to ours. Brave man, us being a band of thieves and beggars and all. In me spare time, I'd watch him. If I was quiet that is. A peep out of me and his tongue came a lash'n. The other's were afraid of him and all his blustering. All an act. After a month or so he started to give me lessons. made me his apprentice . The missus ain't happy about that. Wanted payment for me use, but since it was me free time that he be teach'n me and it could help with the nabbing she ain't got a dime for her whaling.
For a while I was the youngest brat. Cutest too with me little china doll face and large eyes. Careful they were not to bruise me to bad on the face. Those fancy ladies got all ruffled and teary eyed if they see too much hurt on a pretty kid. Just enough marks to bring pity when we begged. Real good I was at begg'n. Just widened my eyes, let a few tears slip and bleeding cullies just dropped blunt in me tin. Like steal'n candy from a brat. But me pretty face was too noticeable and all so I couldn't be bob. Did it once and was caught with the stolen goods on me person after they were handed off. So I was the distraction. Sometimes in one of me pretty dresses I'd pretend to be a lost rich girl or some tourist who couldn't find her mummy. Billy or 'nother would come up and pick his pockets, or take what ever I'd gotten. I didn't pick or anything till I was older.
Kinda fun living in the gang, for a while but ya had to do yer part. Things got sticky if quota weren't made. Be'n the baby and all didn't get ya much special treatment. Didn't help that I could read and write a bit. Well not at first. The older brats got kinda mad and made fun of me. But it came in handy sometimes. 'specially when in a new place. I could read the street signs.
But that's all in the past now. Ain't nobody's prize goose. This lass is fly'n by 'erself. Had the last of it. Ain't gunna take no more beatings. The misuses has lost her touch with reality she has. Crazy. One minute all nice and sweet talk'n next she's after ya with a cleaver. For no reason! None at all. Use to be she'd deal a blow only cus you deserving it. Now, though she enjoys it too much. Gives me the shivers she does. Mean glint in her eye.
And she killed someone. Murder. 'fraid she'll come after me next and i ain't gunna give her the chance. So i faked me death and left. Hopefully it won't make her too spit'n but she'd be pissed her best nabber bit the big one. But peaty will look after the little un's. Would be caught in a flash if they came with me. Right fishy if we all upped and died.
So here I be, running along the side of the road with all I own strapped across me back. Next town I'm in I'll con a bus ticket to scotland out of some poor sod. Still got a pretty dress and I'll put me perform'n shoes back on.
Took a bit of lying but I made it to Hogsmeade, the Wizarding village. Lucky that a fellow traveler was head'n this way in his wagon. Mighty suspicious he was about me be'n all alone. Such a sweet mite like me shouldn't be out on the road alone. Some wild thing would gobble me up in a trice. But he was putty in me grubby hands when I told my tale about how I was kidnapped by these rovers from a nice family and if I went to the aurors they'd find me since theres spies in the ministry and I'd be captured again. Me family didn't have the blunt to pay the ransom. I spoke all nice too, but it was hard not to slip into gypsy speak. I'm here though. Finally. I heard form some performers that I could probably find me father here. He coming around this village every once in a while. So if I stay put I'll find em eventually or where else he could be. Plus I hear the pickings are ripe for a say.
Age: 10
Birthdate/place: [1-Sept-2025]
Species: Gypsy
Gender: Female
Family: [halfblood
Appearance:
Hair: Long, tangled flat hair the color of clay.
Eyes: brown with just a hint of green
Build/height- thin and diminutive
General Description- Typically, all one sees of Cailin is a blur of movement or her beguiling smile. Few ever look past the package presented, be that lost middle class child or poor innocent little waif. The few moments when she is at rest or conning someone you'll notice a small girl, barely over four feet and on the thin side. Although she is a pretty thing with her delicate bone structure her beauty is often diminished by her tangled hair and smudged face. Her lack of a proper wardrobe can either downplay or enhance her delicate loveliness. There is something a bit haunting about Cailin, a quality about her that often lures her marks into duplicity. After all such a defenseless little girl would never steal their money. When clean her hair is a rich brown the color of umber, a dark reddish clay. Sometimes the sun adds streaks of fire to her straight locks. On the rare occasion that it is brushed, her hair falls in a sleek line down her back, almost to her waist. It is typically matted and rather dull looking. More often than not, food or mud is stuck in her hair. It's usually tied back at the nape of her neck by a faded bit of ribbon. The fine strands do not stay confined for long, and more than a few cling around her face. Her eyes are a bit big for her face, adding an almost china doll like quality to her. Perhaps this will lesson when she grows into her features. Surely a bit more weight would help. The color is a dark brown shot through with a mossy green. Depending on what color she wears turns her eyes brown, hazel or green. Her mother,who had blue eyes often told her that she had her father's eyes, brown. Having never met the man Cailin could not be sure. From the few pictures she has seen of her father, Cailin believes she looks a lot like him. Same dark brown hair, both short, and brownish eyes. Perhaps if she was a bit fuller she'd be his perfect image.
Possessions-
A nap sack with all of her worldly treasures and necessities:
two dresses
a few small coins
a crinkled picture of her mum and father
several posters featuring the great Conan Brenandan
a broken locket
a water skin
a hunting knife
a faded blue ribbon
a thin wire
a sling shot
four small rocks
and a map of Great Britian
Personality:
Temperment/Mental Attributes-
A jaded old soul, Cailin can be quite serious. Most people can be trusted up to a point. Because people are human they'll fail eventually. She's an alert kid, always knows where the exits are and prepared to escape when things heat up. Despite knowing that people will eventually let you down, she likes people. In fact she detests being alone. Her biggest fear is that no one wants her. That she's actually unlovable and that's the real reason her mum left her and her dad never stayed for her birth. Determined to make people love her, Cailin tries to please people. If someone wants a bright cheerful little girl, she'll give them that little girl. All of her doubts are shoved ruthlessly down inside of her. Never will she admit out loud that she is terrified about anything. Showing a weakness is inviting punishment or death.
Cailin has trouble telling people the truth, especially about herself. Her earliest memories are of learning how to spin sad yarns that manipulate people into giving her things. It's how she's always functioned and by now she doesn't even realize she's doing it. To her, telling someone that her mum is dying of cancer isn't a lie it's a fib. It has a purpose. She isn't trying to hurt anyone just help herself. She's got to eat you know. Cailin's has her own sense of morality. She won't steal from another poor person but will gladly take from the rich or mean people. If she has anything to share she will without thinking about it.
Honest, to the point of brutality, Cailin doesn't have much of a filter. She'll speak as she fits, although she is learning that sometimes people are not ready to learn certain things and it must be given to them in small doses. She doesn't live inside of society's rules. Nor does she give up easily, or when she should. Thick headed, Cailin keeps trying until someone either physically stops hers or she completes her task. She's stubborn and obstinate, quietly rebelling through her actions instead of words. She's more likely to show her anger through retribution than yelling at a person. The little things make her happy like meeting a new person, learning a new phrase, or watching the sunrise.
Years of working the crowds has honed Cai's instinct. With in a minute or two she knows who would be a good mark, who to avoid, and who to rely on. She's gotten pretty good at deciding who'd be best to help her accomplish things. Sometimes she does judge a good person harshly and a bad person with too much leniency. Cailin has a shrewd intelligence for her age and a hunger for learning new things. Although she enjoys knowledge, her attention is flighty, moving through subjects quickly. She detests being told what to study and does not like plans. Formal schooling gives her a rash and thankfully she's had little of it so far.
LIKES
Talking
Novelty and the unusual
Variety in life
Multiple projects all going at once
Reading
DISLIKES
Feeling tied down
Learning, such as school
Being in a rut
Mental inaction
Being alone
Alliance-
Alignment-
Employment&Education:
-Students-
House- Future Slytherin
Year- future first year
OWLs/NEWTs-
Other:
Magical Skills- Anything special? If applicable
Patronus- (if applicable)
Wand-
Goals/Aspirations- To find her birth father
Other Information-
Despite music being in her blood, Cailin is as unmusical as they come. Oh, she wants to be able to play music and what not but really she isn't good at it. All of the practice in the world, and she still can only hit four of ten notes. On a good day. Her dancing is a bit better, but again Cailin lacks musicality.
History-
This is Kai's thought diary as she is a reluctant writer and would never take the time or energy to pen such damaging evidence to be used against her.
Bloody hell.
I've done it right good this time. I'm running away. For good. Ain't ever going to catch me neither. The others though will pay for me defiance. Maybe I can go back and save em when I find my real Da. He's famous for fight'n as well as having a pretty voice. Strong one he is. And he'd be will'n to help a bunch a kids escape. Legend he is. Rather his last name is. The Brenandans help gypsy runts escape their gang. Take em in and all. So i've heard. Have a big brood they do. Perhaps too many to take any more. Dunno. They didn't take me and supposedly I'm kin. If me mum's to be trusted. Say's I'm the bastard of Conan Breanadan, the Great Performer. Sort of look like him I do. Same kind of hair, chin too. Eyes kinda similar but it's hard to tell from posters and a old crumpled photo of me mum sitt'n on a man's lap. Saw him perform once. Might have been four or five. Don't really know me age. Memory's kinda fuzzy then. Huge crowd, bouncy music and me mum was all a flutter. Kept tugging on me arm and dragging me around cus I couldn't keep up. She picked me up when we got close to the shanty stage, pointed and said, "Breandan me girl that's you're Pa. 'xcept she said it in her cultured voice, being part french and all. Came from a snotty family with a bit of bad gypsy blood. Right pissed, they were, when she took after the wrong side of the family.
I was conceived in sin when my mum was a young lady just out of college. Bet they enjoyed it too. Me parent's not hers. Wanted her to give me up, but my mum had stars in her eyes. Couldn't abandon her precious love seed. I was her evidence that the wonderful Conan Breandan loved her. Always said he'd come back one day and marry her. For a bit I believed her. Stopped that when I was five or so. Kinda. A lass can dream right?
Anyways, me parents met at the great Appleby festival. Great traveler tradition, been 'round ages. She'd seen him around and well went after him. Fell in love, had well you know and she thought he'd marry her. Said he would anyways. Went to bed with him and the next day he left without a word. Me mum followed him around for a while but he was a quick one.
Played hard to get she said. He liked to be chased. Fed his ego. Anyways nine months later and I came. Me mum named me after me da. Wanted a lad she did. Instead she got a big disappointment. Well she can just sod off cus she'd have done no better with a lad. Probably worse cus people like girls better. Give 'em more blunt for begg'n.
Haven't seen her in a long time. Years. Don't need her neither since she sold me to the autem mort. Must of been six or so. Poor'n rain when she dragged me out. Had a bad week at the games. She liked to spend her blunt at the local gypsy den, play'n games and all. Had a nice pile of debt she did. Not good at cards. Easy mark. Anyways, she met a nice cove who wanted to marry her and well. Had to do something about her debts and baggage. The gent was well off, some businessman or not. Well he didn't know that I was her by blow. Though I belonged to her sister or something. Just visiting. He didn't want no kids yet. Too young, had to well enjoy the world first. Said he loved me mum and she had to start a fresh. Beside's I wasn't good for much, being just a brat and all. Bad reminder too. Looked too much like him she said. Wanted to forget it all ever happened. Leave the dirty scum behind. She be'n a lady and all. So that night she brought me to the den, left me hold'n my sack with a couple pretty dresses, (she liked to dress me up like a doll when she had the coin), a picture of him and a trinket he'd given her. Kissed me on the cheek, told me to be good. Not to blubber or anything. I'd be looked after. Then she as gone.
Abandoned for love, what a bouncer. More like left for money. Traded me for her debts, she did. Learned that bit later when the missus was in her cups and spit'n mad at me. Never saw her again. We'd moved the next day. I was apart of a gang now. Me and seven other kids. For a while we were attached to a trav'n side show. Since me name was too noticeable, I mean i was named after a legend, it had to be changed. 'xcept they never really got around to do'n it. Always called me Cailin. Didn't know till recently it is lass in the old Irish tongue. haveta find a new name. Ain't nobody's lass. Can't go by Breandan. Easy to find me that way. 'side's not really my name now is it?
Me only friend was Loki, the tight rope walker. Bunked his trailer next to ours. Brave man, us being a band of thieves and beggars and all. In me spare time, I'd watch him. If I was quiet that is. A peep out of me and his tongue came a lash'n. The other's were afraid of him and all his blustering. All an act. After a month or so he started to give me lessons. made me his apprentice . The missus ain't happy about that. Wanted payment for me use, but since it was me free time that he be teach'n me and it could help with the nabbing she ain't got a dime for her whaling.
For a while I was the youngest brat. Cutest too with me little china doll face and large eyes. Careful they were not to bruise me to bad on the face. Those fancy ladies got all ruffled and teary eyed if they see too much hurt on a pretty kid. Just enough marks to bring pity when we begged. Real good I was at begg'n. Just widened my eyes, let a few tears slip and bleeding cullies just dropped blunt in me tin. Like steal'n candy from a brat. But me pretty face was too noticeable and all so I couldn't be bob. Did it once and was caught with the stolen goods on me person after they were handed off. So I was the distraction. Sometimes in one of me pretty dresses I'd pretend to be a lost rich girl or some tourist who couldn't find her mummy. Billy or 'nother would come up and pick his pockets, or take what ever I'd gotten. I didn't pick or anything till I was older.
Kinda fun living in the gang, for a while but ya had to do yer part. Things got sticky if quota weren't made. Be'n the baby and all didn't get ya much special treatment. Didn't help that I could read and write a bit. Well not at first. The older brats got kinda mad and made fun of me. But it came in handy sometimes. 'specially when in a new place. I could read the street signs.
But that's all in the past now. Ain't nobody's prize goose. This lass is fly'n by 'erself. Had the last of it. Ain't gunna take no more beatings. The misuses has lost her touch with reality she has. Crazy. One minute all nice and sweet talk'n next she's after ya with a cleaver. For no reason! None at all. Use to be she'd deal a blow only cus you deserving it. Now, though she enjoys it too much. Gives me the shivers she does. Mean glint in her eye.
And she killed someone. Murder. 'fraid she'll come after me next and i ain't gunna give her the chance. So i faked me death and left. Hopefully it won't make her too spit'n but she'd be pissed her best nabber bit the big one. But peaty will look after the little un's. Would be caught in a flash if they came with me. Right fishy if we all upped and died.
So here I be, running along the side of the road with all I own strapped across me back. Next town I'm in I'll con a bus ticket to scotland out of some poor sod. Still got a pretty dress and I'll put me perform'n shoes back on.
Took a bit of lying but I made it to Hogsmeade, the Wizarding village. Lucky that a fellow traveler was head'n this way in his wagon. Mighty suspicious he was about me be'n all alone. Such a sweet mite like me shouldn't be out on the road alone. Some wild thing would gobble me up in a trice. But he was putty in me grubby hands when I told my tale about how I was kidnapped by these rovers from a nice family and if I went to the aurors they'd find me since theres spies in the ministry and I'd be captured again. Me family didn't have the blunt to pay the ransom. I spoke all nice too, but it was hard not to slip into gypsy speak. I'm here though. Finally. I heard form some performers that I could probably find me father here. He coming around this village every once in a while. So if I stay put I'll find em eventually or where else he could be. Plus I hear the pickings are ripe for a say.
