Name || Conan Callaghan
Nicknames || 'Fairy boy' don't call him that though he'll start rapping
Gender || Male
Age || 15
Birthday || March 21st
Orientation || Straight
House || Faerie
Rank || Leader
Level || 4
Conan was born in Galway, Ireland on a chilly evening in March with two parents, both middle class. They worked as salespeople -- barely enough to keep them floating, but they were happy. They cherished Conan, their single son, and raised him to speak Irish - his mother's native language - and English - his father was from America.
As a child in his early grades, Conan began a fascination with Greek and Roman mythology, especially the unreal creatures fought off by the heroes. Nymphs and faeries caught his attention in particular - as he loved the idea of flight, ever since he had received a blue parakeet named Sylvia for his 7th birthday - he vividly imagined himself becoming a pilot when he was an adult. Conan's life was a breeze until he turned nine years old.
The company that his parents worked for shut down from bankruptcy - and consequently, both of them lost their jobs. They could no longer make enough money to support their child - They could barely support themselves! So, every though it was a very difficult decision, they sat down to tell Conan he was going to America to live with his grandparents.
He begged and begged not to leave, but soon he was sent on a plane and shipped away.
He had only seen his grandparents twice - well, technically, he had only actually communicated with his Grandmother, for his grandfather had a bad case of Parkinson's Disease and spent almost all of his time in bed. So, for the first six months, life with them was dull. Peg Callagan spent most of her time tending to her husband, and left Conan to do what he pleased. At school he didn't talk much. His english was as incredible as the other kids - but he learned quickly. He spent most of his time on the playground reading about nymphs and other greek mythology. Little did he know some of the meaner elementary kids started using his as his trademark - calling him 'fairy boy' seemed to be one of their favorite activities. Although he didn't mind all that much, because 40% of the time they talked in such slurred words he had no idea what they were saying. He keptAll he knew that it was about the things he liked to read about - and learned to save that kind of thing for home.
Until in fifth grade. He had a few friends, due to his charismatic and social attitude, but none of them were interested in the same things he was. That's when he learned that to keep these friends as time went on, he would have to change his image. Be cool.
Until one day.
He had been wandering along the border of a forest - Giant's creek, to be exact - when he caught the sight of a slight glimmer out of the corner of his eye. Intrigued and curious as always, he was quick to follow the flash, past bushes and around trees. Past masses of leaves and branches he could almost make out the shape of a person…
"H-Hey, wait up!"
The figure abruptly stopped and turned around to face him. He stopped as well, blinking, waiting for it to move again. Instead, it stepped forward. And the figure turned into a girl - 12? 13? She had smooth strawberry blonde hair, friendly brown eyes, and light freckles - just like him!
For a moment, she was silent, but he gave her the tiniest smile. And she returned it.
After asking him questions - which he unknowingly and happily answered, she asked him with a kind voice: "How would you like to join a secret organization? Just for kids."
He was interested. "Just kids…?" Conan asked meekly.
She nodded. "And guess what, Conan?" she said - he hadn't even told her his name, how strange - leaning towards him.
He tilted his head in questioning.
"You can be anyone you want."
Conan's eyes lit up. "Anyone?" he echoed.
She nodded once more.
"I've always wanted to be…cool," he blurted, bringing his hands to his cheeks. He knew how silly that sounded. "Like…like the popular kids. At my school."
A flicker of sympathy flashed across her eyes, and for a split second her smile loosened - but a moment later it was back. After asking him a few more questions about who he lived with, she led him a long way to a place she called Chay's caverns.
The moment Conan saw the meeting place, he loved it - so whimsical, with wind chimes and colorful pinwheels.
The girl's name turned out to be Lila, and was part of the Faerie house. The name instantly caught his attention. She showed him a pale pink feather, smooth and glossy. She asked him if he liked it. A bit confused, he said yes, and that's when she presented him his token. A soft blue jay's feather. Flight - what were the odds?
As he was taught the Rules of Myth, Conan could barely contain his excitement, his thoughts were only on the feather. They were taking about spirits and missions - this couldn't be real! He was ready to bounce off the walls.
Once he accepted the token, he quickly took it in his hands - and suddenly, his spirit appeared right in front of him. She had a very shy look in her eyes. Barely meeting his gaze - but he could only concentrate on the feathers in her hands, her powder blue skin, and vivid tangelo hair. She was just like him! Only quiet. He was instantly reminded of the parakeet he owned when he was younger, and before he could stop himself, exclaimed: "Sylvia!" That soon became her name.
With their personalities almost opposite, the two quickly became close, but bickered a lot - their relationship was very similar to one of a siblings.
He loved being in the houses, and came each day with an eccentric attitude, never failing to annoy someone. The number of girls in the Faerie house outnumbered the boys, so the nickname of 'fairy boy' never really seemed to fade - but here, it was okay, because it was out of affection more than anything. He was always able to spend a lot of his time at the base, since his grandmother never really paid him no heed. His excess time there and hard work finally paid off as he slowly climbed the levels and made it all the way to level three.
The graduation day of the old leader was approaching - rapidly, it seemed. There weren't a ton of high levels at that time, even fewer with the necessities needed for being leader. Conan, surprisingly, was one of those few. Him as well as Lila, the strawberry-blonde girl who had first brought him there in the first place. She was studious and responsible, and easily expected herself to be chosen for adviser. Conan didn't really see why he would be chosen - he wasn't the most tactical.
So when he gained his new title only a month later, was he surprised? Very much so. He had been chosen - the leader had told him later, after he had eagerly asked - because of his ability to deal happily with others, children in particular.
Since then, Lila has refused to ever talk to him.
He doesn't let that get him down too much, however! Conan and Sylvia still live every day in the Faerie house to the fullest!!!
Name || Sylvia
Geneder || Female
Sound Manipulation: Sylvia can alter the pitch and frequency of any sound , usually to higher ones. This is used to slow down, confuse ( and sometimes harm ) opponents.
Tornadoes : Sylvia can create tiny twisters that are able to knock over + damage and, if strong enough, harm. At times they have the power to destroy property or land - so she doesn't use these unless absolutely necessary.
Wind Manipulation : She is able to manipulate the movement of wind - might be used as a really weak version of telekinesis.
= good friend
= best friend
= more then crushing
= serious problem with
Character l :bullet: l House l Thoughts
"N-No, wait, sirs, I'm almost there!"
Acornfall scurried along the shoots of grass, breaking away the last drops of morning dew from yesterday's heavy rain. It was dawn, and early, too early, for her to be running in the dirt like this. The horizon was an inky blue, accompanied by the far away willowly limbs of trees, claimed by unknown land -- she rushed past it all. She wouldn't, couldn't be left in the dust like this! Not again!
Her ears swiveled on her light yellow head as she struggled to keep up with the rest of the patrol: they were miles away, it seemed, not realizing that they had left her in the dust, Oh, why did she have to stop by the creek? They had left her, yes, they had left her, and she was not very happy about it. Once she arrived at the border, panting and breathing hard, they seemed to be gone -- gone! Acornfall scoffed. What fantastic clanmates I have, she thought scornfully. They had already marked up the border. Well, she might touch it up one last time...
The she-cat snapped her head around. She could smell something, something...Not IceClan. She sniffed around some more, and then, realized...WillowClan! Gah! Was there a WillowClan cat on her territory? She sprang forward, through the bushes, and was completely unprepared for what she was about to see. There was another cream colored tom, with WillowClan scent all over, surrounding him like a pungent mist. And...In his jaws! Was that IceClan prey? On impulse, Acornfall hissed. "What are you doing here?" she asked, an edge to her voice to let the tom know that she wasn't being friendly. But, if she was lucky, he would have already guessed so.