- Aug 6, 2014
- 2,626
- Gender
- magical tree
- Pronouns
- he/him
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✧ Aisling Beirne ✧
Age unknown; Celebrates on November 1
Female, Preference unknown
Dullahan (Fae)
Citizen
Business Owner
Sleepy Hollow & Coiste Bodhar
・・ APPEARANCE ・・
It's fairly easy to spot Aisling in a city crowd just by the way she dresses. Oftentimes, her attire looks dated: imagine the times during the 1700s with all the frocks, stiff bodice and closed petticoats but make it mostly black. Notably Gothic in some senses, Aisling doesn't seem to have any problem with constantly wearing such a dress on a casual day. Not even bringing up the fact that she often wears a very dark mourning veil over herself, and is usually seen carrying a basket of flowers on a daily basis. On sunny days, she'd be found with a parasol resting on her shoulder.
One important detail though is that Aisling is a dullahan. She doesn't have a head — at least, not one resting on her shoulders. Under her veil is nothing but smoke and magic shaped to look like she has a head underneath it.
Her head actual is best not to be described in detail but if anything, its texture and color could be compared to stale, dried out dough or moldy cheese. It has a grotesque grin on it and its small black eyes just dart around the sockets like flies. Surprisingly, it doesn't smell like anything and thankfully, no one has to see it either. Aisling always keeps it hidden away behind flowers in the basket she carries around wherever she goes. And thankfully, her body doesn't look as bad. By observation, Aisling can be recognized as female based on the frame and shape of her body. She looks to be a fully mature woman no older than 30s based on the softness of her skin if anything. Something to note is that she has a subtle hourglass figure and long, shapely legs. From foot to shoulder, Aisling stands at a height of 5'5 feet, not counting the slight boost of her pumps.
One important detail though is that Aisling is a dullahan. She doesn't have a head — at least, not one resting on her shoulders. Under her veil is nothing but smoke and magic shaped to look like she has a head underneath it.
Her head actual is best not to be described in detail but if anything, its texture and color could be compared to stale, dried out dough or moldy cheese. It has a grotesque grin on it and its small black eyes just dart around the sockets like flies. Surprisingly, it doesn't smell like anything and thankfully, no one has to see it either. Aisling always keeps it hidden away behind flowers in the basket she carries around wherever she goes. And thankfully, her body doesn't look as bad. By observation, Aisling can be recognized as female based on the frame and shape of her body. She looks to be a fully mature woman no older than 30s based on the softness of her skin if anything. Something to note is that she has a subtle hourglass figure and long, shapely legs. From foot to shoulder, Aisling stands at a height of 5'5 feet, not counting the slight boost of her pumps.
・・ PERSONALITY ・・
Aisling gives the impression of a high-society woman: classy, refined and educated just by her actions. She isn't one to talk about what she's against or for, but that isn't to say she doesn't know how to talk. If anything, she does have a habit to chatter too much that she sometimes has to be reminded to zip her mouth at some few times. She seems fairly neutral on most aspects and for most, she seems to be quite amiable.
Unfortunately, first impressions aren't very reliable. In reality, Aisling isn't exactly a person everyone can stand. She's quirky, and a little morbid at times. She speaks without much thought of whether she may offend or cause discomfort for others. Sometimes it would get to the point that it becomes inappropriate and she still doesn't seem to stop like she isn't aware of it. (Spoiler: She is. She doesn't care much though.) Her right hand man, Scaith is always there to remind her if it gets bad at least.
As an Unseelie fae, she doesn't really favor others that isn't of her kind which is why she acts the way she does, antagonizing others simply for no reason at all. Despite her unpleasant nature, murder is something she would never consider doing. Being a dullahan, she feels more responsible in the aspect of Death. She doesn't take lives at random and instead follows a code in which she doesn't reap souls before one's time. In any case, non-spirits were always more interesting to observe.
Since her immersion to human culture, she's found interest in the arts and literature. She doesn't create so much but she considers herself more of an audience. She tried her hand at painting but never was interested enough to pursue it, leaving mostly unfinished works scattered about.
Aisling is very close to nature though she has preference for the evening scenery. She likes everything about the evening: the cool breeze, the air, the lighting in towns and cities that cut through the darkness, the sound of nocturnal creatures burrowing, chirping and the sound of people safe in their homes. Evening strolls calm her; the later in the night, the better. She spends most her evenings in long evening walks. Fire fascinates her and she also has a keen interest on horses and is familiar many breeds, both non-magic and mythical.
Unfortunately, first impressions aren't very reliable. In reality, Aisling isn't exactly a person everyone can stand. She's quirky, and a little morbid at times. She speaks without much thought of whether she may offend or cause discomfort for others. Sometimes it would get to the point that it becomes inappropriate and she still doesn't seem to stop like she isn't aware of it. (Spoiler: She is. She doesn't care much though.) Her right hand man, Scaith is always there to remind her if it gets bad at least.
As an Unseelie fae, she doesn't really favor others that isn't of her kind which is why she acts the way she does, antagonizing others simply for no reason at all. Despite her unpleasant nature, murder is something she would never consider doing. Being a dullahan, she feels more responsible in the aspect of Death. She doesn't take lives at random and instead follows a code in which she doesn't reap souls before one's time. In any case, non-spirits were always more interesting to observe.
Since her immersion to human culture, she's found interest in the arts and literature. She doesn't create so much but she considers herself more of an audience. She tried her hand at painting but never was interested enough to pursue it, leaving mostly unfinished works scattered about.
Aisling is very close to nature though she has preference for the evening scenery. She likes everything about the evening: the cool breeze, the air, the lighting in towns and cities that cut through the darkness, the sound of nocturnal creatures burrowing, chirping and the sound of people safe in their homes. Evening strolls calm her; the later in the night, the better. She spends most her evenings in long evening walks. Fire fascinates her and she also has a keen interest on horses and is familiar many breeds, both non-magic and mythical.
・・ POWERS ・・
Gift of the Gab (Magical Item)
Her speech is limited to only names of people but she was given a special amulet that lets her speak more (and also block the magic of killing people by saying their names). Without it, she is not able to communicate.[
・・ SPECIES ABILITIES ・・
Dullahan
As a dullahan, Aisling knows when people will die. With her sight, there's a mark that identifies the dead from the living, as well as those who are already close to crossing over. Aisling possesses supernatural sight. Just by simply holding her head up, she can see for vast distances reaching even across a country and even through the darkest of night. With her sight, she can also spy on houses of dying people wherever they lie. Taking her head away may not only cripple her sight, but also her mind.
While the Grim Reaper uses his scythe to collect the dead, the dullahan points her hand and calls out the name of the dying person. Aisling must chant an incantation and then call out their names, declaring that it is their time. But although her power allows her to know when a person is dying, she is unable to take their life if she is unable to learn their names. In her entire run, she has never had such problems except for one.
Though it has been a while since Aisling has used it, she is able to bring back her coach (along with its headless horse and her whip) into the world at will. The carriage itself is adorned with funeral objects (candles in skulls to light the way, the spokes of the wheels are made from thigh bones, the wagon's covering made from a worm-chewed pall or dried human skin). Her whip is made of the spine of a human corpse. There is almost always a basin filled with blood in the wagon. When she rides the night, not the horses, nor the carriage itself would make a sound. There is no way to bar her path when running on her errands — no one can escape death.
Aisling is not indestructible. Though she is able to live for centuries on end, it is not impossible to kill her. She is afraid of gold and iron and both can potentially arm her. Destroying her head may kill her; possessing it is another thing.
While the Grim Reaper uses his scythe to collect the dead, the dullahan points her hand and calls out the name of the dying person. Aisling must chant an incantation and then call out their names, declaring that it is their time. But although her power allows her to know when a person is dying, she is unable to take their life if she is unable to learn their names. In her entire run, she has never had such problems except for one.
Though it has been a while since Aisling has used it, she is able to bring back her coach (along with its headless horse and her whip) into the world at will. The carriage itself is adorned with funeral objects (candles in skulls to light the way, the spokes of the wheels are made from thigh bones, the wagon's covering made from a worm-chewed pall or dried human skin). Her whip is made of the spine of a human corpse. There is almost always a basin filled with blood in the wagon. When she rides the night, not the horses, nor the carriage itself would make a sound. There is no way to bar her path when running on her errands — no one can escape death.
Aisling is not indestructible. Though she is able to live for centuries on end, it is not impossible to kill her. She is afraid of gold and iron and both can potentially arm her. Destroying her head may kill her; possessing it is another thing.
・・ BIOGRAPHY ・・
According to Irish folklore, the dullahan was a headless rider on a black carriage that was pulled by six black headless horses. In some areas in Ireland, they would say it was only one headless horse, and others, the dullahan is seen riding solo on a large black steed. It is said that he made no sound as he passed but sometimes, in the dead silence of the night, the faint echoes of the galloping horses could be heard.
The lore of the dullahan tells that when the dullahan stops riding, it is where a person was due to die. The dullahan would the call out their name and they will perish immediately.
But there was one incident this lore didn't come to pass for this particular dullahan.
During one of her runs, this dullahan found herself sighted by a resident of her presiding area. It was a young man possibly in his 20s — she immediately noticed there was something wrong this this one but she chose not to let him interrupt her further. After dousing him with blood, she fled. Days seemed to pass her by and nothing seemed to come after the incident. Or so she thought.
Weeks later she found the same man peering through his curtains as she passed his home. It was unnerving — she didn't think she would feel that level of discomfort at all but here she was. She slowed her carriage. She'd learned of his name earlier on. She knew nothing was right about this man. He shouldn't be here. She called his name.
Niall Beirne.
To her horror, he didn't move. He stood there for a good few seconds before the curtains closed in. If it was possible for her to scream then, she would have. Not out of anger but out of genuine terror.
She left the area immediately and for the next few weeks, she'd actively avoided the man's house. Going off on her runs but making sure she didn't come any close to that place where he could catch sight of her. She went for detours, circling around as best as she could. Nothing felt right about that man and it scared her that someone knew of her.
Though she'd decided to avoid him, it seemed Fate had other plans. It had been months since the incident, possibly even a year, though she constantly reminded herself to avoid his home just in case.
He was outside that one night and if it wasn't any more ironic, she had almost run him over. Time seemed to freeze over, her initial fear held her in her place, horses in a panicked fray. To her surprise, it wasn't mutual. The man reached out to one of her steeds, taming it within seconds. What baffled her is that he didn't seem fazed by headless horses — or the fact that she herself kept her head at her coach's seat.
It was a strange evening, if she had to say anything. He was a curious one, she would give him that. He confessed about being a mage and having traveled to her homeland to learn of her kind. Though at first it alarmed her, he assured he didn't mean harm. She wouldn't deny to have threatened him but he only laughed. What an odd man, she thought.
She had no name to give him. After having broken off her Court centuries back, she had relinquished her old name and wandered as a nameless solitary fae. He was the one to give her the name "Aisling", as well as a peculiar gem infused with magic. Although still wary, she returned to her old routes, passing by his home whenever she had the chance. He seemed to wait for her just the same, peering past windows just as before. At times she'd slow to watch him back before speeding off into the evening.
One day, Niall simply disappeared. Aisling didn't know what could have become of him. He just vanished into thin air leaving no trace in sight. His home had been left empty, as if no one had lived there at all. Curiosity made her come forward to the people. Concealing herself, blending into the crowd, she searched for him. Every so often, Aisling still stopped by his home, hoping he'd return but decades passed and he never came back. Realizing this, she left, abandoning her duties alltogether in search for the mysterious human that couldn't seem to die.
Aisling spent the rest of her years wandering most of Europe, to Asia, eventually finding herself overseas into other islands. Many times she found herself in veiled islands, but never quite finding what she wanted. Eventually she found that she wasn't so isolated anymore. Along the way she'd met a companion, Scaith that would accompany her on her travels and found herself living among people in cities and towns.
It was a strange realization but she found she actually liked it. Somehow, her travels brought her to Manta Carlos, not even expecting to find the man she'd been searching for all these years in the same place. The world suddenly seemed so small.
The lore of the dullahan tells that when the dullahan stops riding, it is where a person was due to die. The dullahan would the call out their name and they will perish immediately.
But there was one incident this lore didn't come to pass for this particular dullahan.
During one of her runs, this dullahan found herself sighted by a resident of her presiding area. It was a young man possibly in his 20s — she immediately noticed there was something wrong this this one but she chose not to let him interrupt her further. After dousing him with blood, she fled. Days seemed to pass her by and nothing seemed to come after the incident. Or so she thought.
Weeks later she found the same man peering through his curtains as she passed his home. It was unnerving — she didn't think she would feel that level of discomfort at all but here she was. She slowed her carriage. She'd learned of his name earlier on. She knew nothing was right about this man. He shouldn't be here. She called his name.
Niall Beirne.
To her horror, he didn't move. He stood there for a good few seconds before the curtains closed in. If it was possible for her to scream then, she would have. Not out of anger but out of genuine terror.
She left the area immediately and for the next few weeks, she'd actively avoided the man's house. Going off on her runs but making sure she didn't come any close to that place where he could catch sight of her. She went for detours, circling around as best as she could. Nothing felt right about that man and it scared her that someone knew of her.
Though she'd decided to avoid him, it seemed Fate had other plans. It had been months since the incident, possibly even a year, though she constantly reminded herself to avoid his home just in case.
He was outside that one night and if it wasn't any more ironic, she had almost run him over. Time seemed to freeze over, her initial fear held her in her place, horses in a panicked fray. To her surprise, it wasn't mutual. The man reached out to one of her steeds, taming it within seconds. What baffled her is that he didn't seem fazed by headless horses — or the fact that she herself kept her head at her coach's seat.
It was a strange evening, if she had to say anything. He was a curious one, she would give him that. He confessed about being a mage and having traveled to her homeland to learn of her kind. Though at first it alarmed her, he assured he didn't mean harm. She wouldn't deny to have threatened him but he only laughed. What an odd man, she thought.
She had no name to give him. After having broken off her Court centuries back, she had relinquished her old name and wandered as a nameless solitary fae. He was the one to give her the name "Aisling", as well as a peculiar gem infused with magic. Although still wary, she returned to her old routes, passing by his home whenever she had the chance. He seemed to wait for her just the same, peering past windows just as before. At times she'd slow to watch him back before speeding off into the evening.
One day, Niall simply disappeared. Aisling didn't know what could have become of him. He just vanished into thin air leaving no trace in sight. His home had been left empty, as if no one had lived there at all. Curiosity made her come forward to the people. Concealing herself, blending into the crowd, she searched for him. Every so often, Aisling still stopped by his home, hoping he'd return but decades passed and he never came back. Realizing this, she left, abandoning her duties alltogether in search for the mysterious human that couldn't seem to die.
Aisling spent the rest of her years wandering most of Europe, to Asia, eventually finding herself overseas into other islands. Many times she found herself in veiled islands, but never quite finding what she wanted. Eventually she found that she wasn't so isolated anymore. Along the way she'd met a companion, Scaith that would accompany her on her travels and found herself living among people in cities and towns.
It was a strange realization but she found she actually liked it. Somehow, her travels brought her to Manta Carlos, not even expecting to find the man she'd been searching for all these years in the same place. The world suddenly seemed so small.
・・ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION ・・
