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Dec 4, 2020 21:51:26 GMT -8
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Post by Donald Finn O'Neill-Kirkland on Jan 19, 2013 16:08:35 GMT -8
Because she had sneezed, Donald had to say ‘bless ye’ before anything else. It was a automatic gesture of courtesy of course. It was a simple response out of decorum as how he was taught since childhood.
When he spoke of the flowershop and its attractive attributes, Donald had paid some attention to the young store keeper’s reaction. Flustered at first,—ah, then sudden irritation? Yes why, it was irritation, which was clearly reflected in her hazel* eyes. Strange and curious how her eyes flickered, changing shades of emotion in an instant! That countenance bellied her petite stature, such strength and intensity. It must have been because of the lily he had set in the bouquet. In truth, he was no florist; neither did he spend much time arranging flowers together. He knew very little about flowers other than a few of its meanings and symbols and which floras complement each other the best.
Yet he was the type to relish in the sight of pretty things being with other pretty things. Beauty, of course, is abstract—taken from any angle of sight, of thought, and of inner perception. And Donald had always paid attention to it. By whim, he had done this simply because he thought it would be beautiful.
However, to be frank, the stargazer lily, soft blue*to the white of its tip, looked like the anomaly in this bouquet due to its shape, not its color. It was the shape—it looked like a freckled star; it had a quirky charm, a profound cheekiness in the midst of its elegance neighbors. To a typical bystander, one would notice the lily first upon first glance, for it is nestled in the middle of the arrangement, surrounded by smaller buds and snowdrops. But that was precisely his intention—to make the lily stand out, adding a little of something different to this bouquet—that eccentricity, that exuberance, that character to an otherwise simple, lovely arrangement. But pray that the colors are is nice and complementary in her eyes as it was in his eyes. Colorblindness had its faults and weaknesses.
Then she flushed, some color brushed florid on her cheeks. And back came the demureness. After that she smiled, a sweet smile and granted him the chime that was her soft laughter. His emerald eyes were full of mirth, twinkling as he grinned toothily. Surely he had not been forgiven for what he did, yet he was pleased to an extent that it did not empower her other emotions.
“I, uh.. Is-- Is this what you do on your free days? Invade quiet little shops and leave us poor shopkeepers speechless?”
A daring attempt! Donald chuckled at her quip, though her tease was a slight stammer it still had the sting of a confident one. It fit her nature. Pleasantly surprised, he lifted up both of his hands as if to admit defeat, briefly glancing down before back at her as he feigned embarrassment, “Ye’ve caught me red-handed—or blue-handed, caen’t tell! Ye figured me out, ah much faster than I had expected. I admit it, ‘tis a sorrey pastime of mine.”
He lowered his hands, still in good humor as he fixed the collar of his dress shirt. “I certainly hope ye’d forgive me intrusion and me heinous act of makin’ ye speechless. In mae defense how’ver, I had te make it even—first look upon ye and I had trouble speakin’ meself.”
Then she introduced herself.
“Lili,” Donald repeated after her as he nodded—of course, of course. Lili, her name, a flower, pretty, dainty and feminine, was working in a flower shop. Of course it made sense, it fit as if she was a crafted character of a book. Alluring, but she seemed to not possess the frailty as a typical flower. No, not quite, she had a hidden quirkiness, a subtle coyness that made her as unique as the lily in the bouquet. “Lovely name.”
He approached her casually as he reached out a hand, fingers stretched out just slightly, to give her a gentle and friendly handshake. “They call me Donald. Donald, Don, or Donny, Miss Lili. Ye may call me anythin’ ye like. It’s a pleasure te meet you. And as I promised…”
The ginger tilted his head towards the bouquet, suggesting her to focus her attention to that bouquet. “I would like te buy that fer any price ye’d like.” |
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Post by Donald Finn O'Neill-Kirkland on Jan 18, 2013 20:56:07 GMT -8
Winter is approaching spring. The season is touching on the next beginning of the cycle. Evenly measured and placed in every block of Sloane street, the trees stood ready to meet escape Winter’s brushes. Tall, barren, with branches as thin and dry as a gnarled crone’s finger, the redbud trees basked in the small amount of sunshine the heavens had granted for London. All days prior were gloomed by clouds; therefore, the sun’s surprise visit was rather refreshing.
At least for Donald, that is. Cloudy days, grey mornings and sleepy afternoons always spelled out a sort of dullness, promising little to be accomplished. That’s how he felt; after all he was not a native Londoner. The denizens of this city were always busy, fretting away through storm, gloom, and thunder. Through the streets they’d go, not paying the slightest attention to the tiny things such as the sunshine, the way the wind blows, and how the trees are faring. Certainly, Donald was the type to pay attention to little details, especially during strolls down the street. For one, he’d rather do that than worry and stress over trivial things such as work and life. No no, that was how the ginger differed from those who were rushing around him as he sauntered through this busy little street in his hands in the pockets of his beige pants. He was the only one that didn’t look like he was in a rush, in a hurry with a destination or a purpose in mind.
Nope. He was just out for a walk.
No intention, nothing in mind. He was enticed by a couple of the clothing and antique stores, yet he eventually found the vogue displayed in each window to be tiresome as he continued by. High fashion, ah, so monotonous, so similar in the studs, ebony leather, golden threads, designer scents, and floral prints. Lurid lights, beautiful advertisements, gilded handles, and open glass doors—all of which was too inviting to be attractive to him. Although he was a man of good taste in fashion, he decided not to dawdle in such stores today. The sun was out, time to try something different.
With that, he noticed something… off. A flower shop? My, it did not seem to fit with the glamour that is emitted from the street. Rather, it radiated with a sort of humbleness, a nostalgic hint of purity and innocence. Pots of fresh, resplendent flowers were set in front of the large rectangular window, where one can peer in and see the main counter to the side. Surely, though, no one would ever steal flowers. Yet if one were to fondle the petals, the owner would most likely see it.
However, in this case, the logic was reversed; he was able to see the owner. A petite young lady with short blonde hair placed a book back into the bookshelf. Ahh, she was cute. He had his eye on her for a moment until he invited himself in, grabbing a nearby stargazer lily as he entered through the open door.
“A beautiful shop.” He said casually after he caught the young owner’s attention. Still at somewhat at a distance from her, Donald turned to the side to place the lily to embellish a pre-made bouquet.
“Refreshin’, vibrant, invitin’. There’s a charm, a ring te this place.”
“But you, Miss, ah—I see tha’ this shop reflects its owner. Yer as cute as a button, that ye are.” Donald gave her a suave grin as a slight chuckle. “I promise not te loiter, Miss. But if I may have yer name I’ll leave with some flowers as a happy man.”
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Post by Donald Finn O'Neill-Kirkland on Jan 2, 2013 20:34:39 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px; padding: 10px;,bTable] | DONALD FINN O'NEILL-KIRKLAND
Wheels up
I got to leave this evening
Can't seem to shake these vultures
Off of my trail
Power is made, by power being taken
So I keep on running
To protect my situation
| [cs=2]
01 | WE'RE THE ARCHITECTS OF THE WORLD.
FRIENDS. Being a friend or companion of no Donny is quite too easy to be called a feat. Easy-going and good-natured, he is very comfortable with being friends with just about anyone. It's not hard to get on his good side; in addition, it is hard to get on his bad side.
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px;] Lili Zwingli "Yer as cute as a button," Donald exclaimed cheerfully. That was how they met in Lili's shop. His playfulness and talkativeness managed to earn him a friend whom he finds both stunning and intelligent. He likes being around her because of her positive energy and her ability to return his quips, not to mention her gentleness and passion with flowers. A bit of feelings is blooming on his part. However, Donald is a bit unsure on how to go forward with this relationship for now, opting to simply go with the flow. MI6 is at the top of his priorities, yet he still always makes some time for Lili without even thinking. In the meantime, he is just enjoying her company as he works in her shop once in a while.
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px;] Feliciano Vargas Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit, sed diam nonummy nibh euismod tincidunt ut laoreet dolore magna aliquam erat volutpat. Ut wisi enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exerci tation ullamcorper suscipit lobortis nisl ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis autem vel eum iriure dolor in hendrerit in vulputate velit esse molestie consequat, vel illum dolore eu feugiat nulla facilisis at vero eros et accumsan et iusto odio dignissim qui blandit praesent luptatum zzril delenit augue duis dolore te feugait nulla facilisi. Nam liber tempor cum soluta nobis eleifend option congue nihil imperdiet doming id quod mazim placerat facer possim assum. Typi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legentis in iis qui facit eorum claritatem. Investigationes demonstraverunt lectores legere me lius quod ii legunt saepius. Claritas est etiam processus dynamicus, qui sequitur mutationem consuetudium lectorum. Mirum est notare quam littera gothica, quam nunc putamus parum claram, anteposuerit litterarum formas humanitatis per seacula quarta decima et quinta decima. Eodem modo typi, qui nunc nobis videntur parum clari, fiant sollemnes in futurum.
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px;] Katyusha Cherneko During his lawless years, the 'Nightingale' was no stranger. Most of his partners and mates in crime had spoken lewdly about the beauty of the nurse. Although Donald was (and still is) a charmer, his initial years of crime were a little more chaste. The only time he had a reason in her quarters was after a close friend of his got seriously injured. Then, he got a gander of the nurse before he was rushed elsewhere. Their initial moments together was very brief, yet he still called her an ally. As thanks towards Katyusha's healing efforts for his pal, Donald did some favors for her. Consequently, she became an object worthy for his protection - at least he thought so. Now that their lives are separate, they are pretty weary of each other. However, Donald had sworn to never reveal Katyusha's affiliations and would even go as far as to betray a bit of the MI6 to keep her safe.
02 | AND THE BRIDGES WILL BURN AT THE END.
ENEMIES. To be Donald's enemy--my, that's rather hard to accomplish. If one were to be his enemy, his most hated, then they should give themselves a pat on the back for being so vile. Rarely does he make personal enemies because of his flexible nature. However, were someone to get under his skin, deep to the tenderness that is his flesh, Donald would be the rather cruel to his foe.
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px;] The Tiger Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit, sed diam nonummy nibh euismod tincidunt ut laoreet dolore magna aliquam erat volutpat. Ut wisi enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exerci tation ullamcorper suscipit lobortis nisl ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis autem vel eum iriure dolor in hendrerit in vulputate velit esse molestie consequat, vel illum dolore eu feugiat nulla facilisis at vero eros et accumsan et iusto odio dignissim qui blandit praesent luptatum zzril delenit augue duis dolore te feugait nulla facilisi. Nam liber tempor cum soluta nobis eleifend option congue nihil imperdiet doming id quod mazim placerat facer possim assum. Typi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legentis in iis qui facit eorum claritatem. Investigationes demonstraverunt lectores legere me lius quod ii legunt saepius. Claritas est etiam processus dynamicus, qui sequitur mutationem consuetudium lectorum. Mirum est notare quam littera gothica, quam nunc putamus parum claram, anteposuerit litterarum formas humanitatis per seacula quarta decima et quinta decima. Eodem modo typi, qui nunc nobis videntur parum clari, fiant sollemnes in futurum.
03 | HOW WILL YOU GO AND LOOK FOR ME?
LOVERS. Contrary to popular belief, Donald takes some time to fall in love. Sure, he does like to hit on girls and all that--he treats each lady respectfully and honestly. Yet 'love' is an essence that's a little deeper than simply being attracted to an eyeful. Sure, he would love to love, but at the same time he's a bit hesitant due to his conflicting personas and time restraints due to MI6. Surely though, were he to fall in love, he'd spoil her good.
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px;] Nicoleta Daciana Donald could describe her as all sorts of things. She was the Apple of Eden that had led Eve to sin, the serpent, the she-devil, the unlucky black cat, or just merely 'The Lynx'. She was pretty much the reason why he succumbed into the twisted lifestyle of the Underground. Nicoleta converted him from a chaste man to a rotten man after beguiling him with her seduction. He pretty much blamed everything on her at first until it dawned on him that he was merely the fool. The puppet to the puppeteer. He does somewhat resent her still and will nose in if he ever hears the 'purr' of the Lynx on the news.
04 | I'VE GOT A PLAN - I'M GONNA FIND YOU.
OTHERS. This category would best fit as one for 'Family'. Why--the Kirkland family is large for it is an expansive, complex hereditary tree. He's not the oldest but he thinks of himself as one. Though he may be mean with his jests and teasing, he does very much care for his siblings.
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px;] Aoife O'Neill-Kirkland Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit, sed diam nonummy nibh euismod tincidunt ut laoreet dolore magna aliquam erat volutpat. Ut wisi enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exerci tation ullamcorper suscipit lobortis nisl ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis autem vel eum iriure dolor in hendrerit in vulputate velit esse molestie consequat, vel illum dolore eu feugiat nulla facilisis at vero eros et accumsan et iusto odio dignissim qui blandit praesent luptatum zzril delenit augue duis dolore te feugait nulla facilisi. Nam liber tempor cum soluta nobis eleifend option congue nihil imperdiet doming id quod mazim placerat facer possim assum. Typi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legentis in iis qui facit eorum claritatem. Investigationes demonstraverunt lectores legere me lius quod ii legunt saepius. Claritas est etiam processus dynamicus, qui sequitur mutationem consuetudium lectorum. Mirum est notare quam littera gothica, quam nunc putamus parum claram, anteposuerit litterarum formas humanitatis per seacula quarta decima et quinta decima. Eodem modo typi, qui nunc nobis videntur parum clari, fiant sollemnes in futurum.
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px;] Iain Stuart-Kirkland Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit, sed diam nonummy nibh euismod tincidunt ut laoreet dolore magna aliquam erat volutpat. Ut wisi enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exerci tation ullamcorper suscipit lobortis nisl ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis autem vel eum iriure dolor in hendrerit in vulputate velit esse molestie consequat, vel illum dolore eu feugiat nulla facilisis at vero eros et accumsan et iusto odio dignissim qui blandit praesent luptatum zzril delenit augue duis dolore te feugait nulla facilisi. Nam liber tempor cum soluta nobis eleifend option congue nihil imperdiet doming id quod mazim placerat facer possim assum. Typi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legentis in iis qui facit eorum claritatem. Investigationes demonstraverunt lectores legere me lius quod ii legunt saepius. Claritas est etiam processus dynamicus, qui sequitur mutationem consuetudium lectorum. Mirum est notare quam littera gothica, quam nunc putamus parum claram, anteposuerit litterarum formas humanitatis per seacula quarta decima et quinta decima. Eodem modo typi, qui nunc nobis videntur parum clari, fiant sollemnes in futurum.
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px;] Cerys Lewis-Kirkland Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit, sed diam nonummy nibh euismod tincidunt ut laoreet dolore magna aliquam erat volutpat. Ut wisi enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exerci tation ullamcorper suscipit lobortis nisl ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis autem vel eum iriure dolor in hendrerit in vulputate velit esse molestie consequat, vel illum dolore eu feugiat nulla facilisis at vero eros et accumsan et iusto odio dignissim qui blandit praesent luptatum zzril delenit augue duis dolore te feugait nulla facilisi. Nam liber tempor cum soluta nobis eleifend option congue nihil imperdiet doming id quod mazim placerat facer possim assum. Typi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legentis in iis qui facit eorum claritatem. Investigationes demonstraverunt lectores legere me lius quod ii legunt saepius. Claritas est etiam processus dynamicus, qui sequitur mutationem consuetudium lectorum. Mirum est notare quam littera gothica, quam nunc putamus parum claram, anteposuerit litterarum formas humanitatis per seacula quarta decima et quinta decima. Eodem modo typi, qui nunc nobis videntur parum clari, fiant sollemnes in futurum.
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px;] Arthur Kirkland Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit, sed diam nonummy nibh euismod tincidunt ut laoreet dolore magna aliquam erat volutpat. Ut wisi enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exerci tation ullamcorper suscipit lobortis nisl ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis autem vel eum iriure dolor in hendrerit in vulputate velit esse molestie consequat, vel illum dolore eu feugiat nulla facilisis at vero eros et accumsan et iusto odio dignissim qui blandit praesent luptatum zzril delenit augue duis dolore te feugait nulla facilisi. Nam liber tempor cum soluta nobis eleifend option congue nihil imperdiet doming id quod mazim placerat facer possim assum. Typi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legentis in iis qui facit eorum claritatem. Investigationes demonstraverunt lectores legere me lius quod ii legunt saepius. Claritas est etiam processus dynamicus, qui sequitur mutationem consuetudium lectorum. Mirum est notare quam littera gothica, quam nunc putamus parum claram, anteposuerit litterarum formas humanitatis per seacula quarta decima et quinta decima. Eodem modo typi, qui nunc nobis videntur parum clari, fiant sollemnes in futurum.
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px;] Peter Kirkland orem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit, sed diam nonummy nibh euismod tincidunt ut laoreet dolore magna aliquam erat volutpat. Ut wisi enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exerci tation ullamcorper suscipit lobortis nisl ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis autem vel eum iriure dolor in hendrerit in vulputate velit esse molestie consequat, vel illum dolore eu feugiat nulla facilisis at vero eros et accumsan et iusto odio dignissim qui blandit praesent luptatum zzril delenit augue duis dolore te feugait nulla facilisi. Nam liber tempor cum soluta nobis eleifend option congue nihil imperdiet doming id quod mazim placerat facer possim assum. Typi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legentis in iis qui facit eorum claritatem. Investigationes demonstraverunt lectores legere me lius quod ii legunt saepius. Claritas est etiam processus dynamicus, qui sequitur mutationem consuetudium lectorum. Mirum est notare quam littera gothica, quam nunc putamus parum claram, anteposuerit litterarum formas humanitatis per seacula quarta decima et quinta decima. Eodem modo typi, qui nunc nobis videntur parum clari, fiant sollemnes in futurum.
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px;] Steven Kirkland Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit, sed diam nonummy nibh euismod tincidunt ut laoreet dolore magna aliquam erat volutpat. Ut wisi enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exerci tation ullamcorper suscipit lobortis nisl ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis autem vel eum iriure dolor in hendrerit in vulputate velit esse molestie consequat, vel illum dolore eu feugiat nulla facilisis at vero eros et accumsan et iusto odio dignissim qui blandit praesent luptatum zzril delenit augue duis dolore te feugait nulla facilisi. Nam liber tempor cum soluta nobis eleifend option congue nihil imperdiet doming id quod mazim placerat facer possim assum. Typi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legentis in iis qui facit eorum claritatem. Investigationes demonstraverunt lectores legere me lius quod ii legunt saepius. Claritas est etiam processus dynamicus, qui sequitur mutationem consuetudium lectorum. Mirum est notare quam littera gothica, quam nunc putamus parum claram, anteposuerit litterarum formas humanitatis per seacula quarta decima et quinta decima. Eodem modo typi, qui nunc nobis videntur parum clari, fiant sollemnes in futurum.
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px;] Sophia Kirkland Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit, sed diam nonummy nibh euismod tincidunt ut laoreet dolore magna aliquam erat volutpat. Ut wisi enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exerci tation ullamcorper suscipit lobortis nisl ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis autem vel eum iriure dolor in hendrerit in vulputate velit esse molestie consequat, vel illum dolore eu feugiat nulla facilisis at vero eros et accumsan et iusto odio dignissim qui blandit praesent luptatum zzril delenit augue duis dolore te feugait nulla facilisi. Nam liber tempor cum soluta nobis eleifend option congue nihil imperdiet doming id quod mazim placerat facer possim assum. Typi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legentis in iis qui facit eorum claritatem. Investigationes demonstraverunt lectores legere me lius quod ii legunt saepius. Claritas est etiam processus dynamicus, qui sequitur mutationem consuetudium lectorum. Mirum est notare quam littera gothica, quam nunc putamus parum claram, anteposuerit litterarum formas humanitatis per seacula quarta decima et quinta decima. Eodem modo typi, qui nunc nobis videntur parum clari, fiant sollemnes in futurum.
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Post by Donald Finn O'Neill-Kirkland on Dec 25, 2012 0:45:01 GMT -8
| Donald Finnigan O'Neil-Kirkland
Turn that jazz up! We've got a real beau here for you tonight, ladies. Meet Donald, the most charming ginger on the street. With his debonair and sweet brogue, it is impossible to not want to get to know him! He'll take your hand, babe, and fly you to the moon and back. |
| British-Irish | Operative | Agent |
| 179.8 cm | 59.9 kg | Light Red/Orange |
| Green | Freckled Fair | Medium; Toned |
Vibrant, carefree, relaxed, independent, eccentric, idealistic, and a lover of simplicity, Donald is a natural charmer. Yet he can also be a bit sulky, broody, depressed, and ill-tempered at his worst. Moreover, he’s totally unpredictable, and those good and bad traits sometimes smelt itself together to form the tip of his day's persona.
It’s hard to see a reason to most of his actions; likewise it's confounding to sometimes to understand the meaning behind his words. Needless to say, there’s always a mask on him, a two–sided mask with intricate attributes that contrast each other that make up the same person.
On the positive side, Donald is really outgoing and will have no problem talking to strangers, so prepare to see him pop many personal bubbles. He gives off a friendly and humble vibe, until he begins to talk in length. His debonair usually creeps on people; his talkativeness becomes more blown-out and energetic once he gets to know the person better.
The stories he tells is a really big part of his character. The stories can range from funny ones, to awfully strange ones, and to very serious ones. Yet he does favor his audience by talking about the most ridiculous of things at times and can humor them by going on a tangent with something else entirely unrelated (warning: his sense of humor is not spectacular). There are a handful of people who think he talks like a drunkard; truly, the words that come out of Don's mouth are usually very unique.
Donald just has a passion to talk, to be sarcastic, and to gossip (occasionally trashing on other people) because he enjoys seeing enlightened individuals of his own making. Maybe just a ‘passion’ is an understatement. Don enjoys receiving attention from others so much that he may feel a little sour without getting enough. So, if you are ever unlucky enough to be unaware, be prepared to lose hours of your life by listening to him talk. It's all good fun!
Don acts by impulse, which makes him all the more mysterious. Sometimes he does things for no reason but explains that the reason will appear later on. He knows what he doesn’t know and sometimes doesn’t know what he knows. Strange, whimsical, there is no structure in him. Emotionally unstable—maybe, mentally unstable—likely. Still, he believes that he is quite a genius and an anomaly for being different, complex, and duo-faceted.
Partially, the reason why he's a little reckless in his actions and speech is because he thinks his luck will always somehow bail him out. So far, he does have a history of being a lucky fellow. When he was a kid, he always thought he was lucky because he kissed the blarney stone in Ireland every Sunday for good luck (grandmama had told him to, actually). Thus, Donald thinks that he will be lucky forever because God blesses those who are diligent and work hard… like kissing blarney stones every morning. .
The extent of his luckiness was being born with Deuteranopia, a mutation in the DNA that makes the person confuse a lot of damn colors. The chance of getting this kind mutation for color blindness for men and women is less than 1%. After learning this, he was thoroughly convinced that he is lady luck will always be on his side, whether he likes it or not. This is why he 'pushes his luck', or so to speak, whenever he gambles. He is sadly addicted to gambling and taking chances because of his assertive personality. Therefore he always thinks that he will somehow get the better end of the stick. All of the time. That mindset usually gets him to a lot of trouble but history has shown that he’s quite lucky.
Though he may seem like a nice guy to an acquaintance or any random dude on the street, the more a person gets to know him, the more apparent his horrible vices become. Donald is trying to turn a new leaf with this new life of his, but the pigments from his lawless days still stain his persona.
His pride is something that should never be shattered due to his repressed temper. Donald may be a very easy-going guy, but getting him irritated is one step closer to rousing the dormant ire. However, Donald is fine with losing over trivial things, for he has enough common sense as to how to pick his fights. But when the blades point at a topic he has a great passion for, that'll elicit some aggressive responses. Disagreements over his religion or his own personal beliefs of what is right or wrong can make him incredibly serious, spiteful, blatantly cynical, and sometimes physically aggressive.
Those traits do not come from no where. For years, he has had this repressed state of mind of pure anxiety and self-loathing, but he hides it away from plain sight. His darker side is filled with rage, melancholy, confusion, and vengeance that accumulated from his sordid past. Therefore, his anxiety issues makes it very hard to see what others see.
With that said, his morality is a sensitive subject. Don’s idea of ‘justice’ can sometimes be debated, but to him, that sense of justice is embedded into him like a carving on a diamond. He’s blind to every other way, every other option, and can only see the light that is his own. He's a good guy, striving to be a samaritan, but he's too unwilling to take risky chances.
Worst of all, Donald knows this. He’s completely aware of how bad he can be. He’s a man tied down by confliction, by anger, by confusion, and by his own mistakes. Perhaps his biggest curse is the fact that with every bad thing he does, he knows exactly why he’s doing it and why he shouldn’t. What’s morally righteous and what’s definitively righteous is separated by a hazy line. Conflicted with two identities and ideologies, religions, and cultures, he doesn’t really know who or what he is. He’s blotched by two identities—one that is trying live for the future and one that is stuck in the past.
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Alcohol: You can never get in between a man (ahem he considers himself a man) and his alcohol. His drunken side varies depending on the occasion, and it’s not always a pleasant thing to be around.
Ladies: Donald is the charmer, the lady’s man. He always perks up to the presence of a pretty gal and will do anything to platonically please her. That really goes for girls of all ages—he treats young girls like princesses and older ladies like queens. It’s just in his good nature and will to see women happy no matter whom they are. Therefore, he identifies himself as a ‘gentleman’ of the highest creed. Ha~ On the flip side, he will be pretty weary to girls who are on the ‘scarier’ side.
Totally Platonic stuff: First of all, Donald isn’t a virgin ahem. During his ‘lawless’ days, he experienced ‘everything’. Nowadays, Don tries to abide to abstinence since he is taking his ethics and morals as a Protestant a bit more seriously. More of, he just has a little more self-control when it comes to his libido. He’d have no qualms if a woman (or a man I guess) sexually approaches him. It’s just never in his initial intention unless he’s really drunk or depressed. With that said, he still likes to admire and look at ‘naughty’ things. I mean, can’t stop him from being a guy.
Listeners: He talks a lot. A whole, damn lot. That’s because Donny has a lot to say. He’s the type of person who freely talks about his opinions and theories. It’s embedded in his philosophy to ‘voice’ out what the inner soul has to say—or that is how he recites it. So, it pleases him to see people complying by listening. It’s always good to enlighten other people.
Fashion: In the movies, they make it seem as if agents only wear black and white. Well that definitely doesn't go for Don. He dresses as a classy lad in khaki, beige, burgundy--you name it. Check out his closet and he has a colorful array of blazers, ties, leather jackets, hats, designer watches, and shoes. Let's say he's very keen on this sort of stuff.
Ships: He's fascinated with ships. He took a field trip when he was a child to the shipyard in Belfest where the famous Titanic was built. Ever since that day, he has been collecting ship models and old ship blueprints. He has paintings and photos of old ships and even owns a little speed boat! He prides himself with that ship he had earned himself through hours of hard work, of which he also had gingerly named 'Belisama'.
Music: Don isn't as musically talented his sis, for he can only decently play the flute and occasionally the fiddle or the guitar. As a kid, he wasn't really interested in music or dancing until his ma pestered him into earning talents. He ended up joining a marching band and was forced to take tap dancing classes. Now, he can't do a thing without music and loves to show off his dancing when the time is appropriate or whenever he is drunk.
Athletics: The boy does his mum proud by being an athletic lad. It takes some beef to join these kinds of ranks, and boy does Don have the talent to fit the bill. He was a full-on rugby plater and a wrestler during his teen years. After mindless headbutting and a few injuries, he found golf to be just as fun as rugby. In addition, you don't get broken limbs from swinging a club! He loves to play golf and will be more than happy to invite pals to bond over a good hole-in-one.
Riddles&folklore: When he was young, he had always played Hide-n-seek with his sister. There was something exhilarating about looking, about seeking, that it made him somewhat of an expert 'looker'. Riddles challenge that mindset. He loves trying to figure out good riddles and hard riddles. Because he enjoys hearing riddles and limerick, he adopted a talent of being able to make up his own. This goes hand-in-hand with his fascination of folklore, legends, and stories. It opens up a creative world for him, allowing him to freely tell stories of adventures and folly while still cleverly adding in a moral verse.
The sea: If he can recall a moment of his childhood, it always includes the image of the sea. Even now, he likes to talk walks in the brisk of the morning by the shore. Being anywhere near a large body of water makes feel human and normal. Nothing can really tear him away from the crashing waves, rolling sea foam, and monotonous ebb and flow that give him a sense of tranquility.
| People who are hard to deal with: Hard-headed, stubborn, horribly prudent AKA pipe up the ass ugh. Anything in that nature would give him such a hard time to connect, first of all. Donny always likes to have a connection or some sort of understanding with his audience. But when they cut him off with some sort of irritable nature, it really shuts him off and annoys him.
Gambling: Don had been addicted to gambling—with words, decisions, and cut-cold deals. He hates it all. Donald is a risk-taker, but the sheer addiction to it had been his previous downfall. He's counting his blessings enough to avoid anymore gambling of anything. Fate is a whimsical bride; he'd best not test her.
Untamed cruelty: I mean Donny has a sense of self-righteousness, but it doesn’t always overlap with the way society views justice. Don is a killer and had been a cruel killer, but never did he kill by whim. In the past, his targets had a reason to be killed; Don was that type of killer who always did his research on those who were on the hit list. There had to be a good reason for them to die. Therefore, he’s no fan of torture, the killing of innocent people, and senseless violence. In fact, he will do absolutely anything to get around it, up until the last straws.
Morons: Well… according to his standards, that is. His sense of supremacy doesn't really have a cap on it. He claims that they ‘insult his intelligence’ with a stifled chuckle. It’s hard to tell when he means an insult when it is coupled with a laugh or a grin, but when it comes to the topic about intelligence and common sense, he means it.
Broken promises: Now this is just called unfair 'business'. Donald has a weird thing where he trusts everyone when there is something that he wants. When he makes a promise, he will keep it. But if someone breaks their promise, it wouldn't be very pleasant to double-cross him.
Too much control: Don likes order. Yeah, it’s more like a safety net to fall on if a lapse in judgment were to appear. However, he’s not very fond of following orders strictly. Being a creative lad, he rather enjoys doing things in different ways.
Interruptions: Oh yeah that's just rude. Don't interrupt him. It might make things worse.
Explicit rudeness: Self-explanatory.
One-sided arguments: Please don't insult his intelligence with this. It's going to waste everyone's time.
Being called English: Do not, I repeat, do NOT call him English. Don’t, please don’t for the love of all that is good in humanity. You may call him Irish okay, that’s fine, just not English. Just. Not. English. |
Repentance: He used to be a lawless. Donald knows all of the atrocities that a person can face in the book. There is a fear of being caught up by his past; therefore, he wants to seek something or someone to help him pay and get over his sins. Donald wants to keep living, yes, but every day is more like a survival round for him.
To live: Adding on to the last dream, Donald wants to live, not survive. He was given a second chance, but his mindset is still barred by the criminalistic instinct to survive with paranoia.
Make amends with his family: Things aren't always so good with the Kirkland family. After what he had done, it is no wonder why most of them don't like him. Though he might not show it, he really does care for all of them, and he wants to make things right for once. | Worthless: This is more like an internal, ‘mental’ fear. Donald always puts him out there to be acknowledged and seen. If he were to be ignored and cast away, he would feel the essence of his soul and pride would shrivel up like a dying spider. When trivial things are ignored (like his rants or litanies), he’s fine with that. But when it comes to an important decision, he cannot let himself be ignored at all lest he becomes enwrapped in some kind of bad sulking.
Starvation: That is a bad, bad sign. When Don was a child, he got lost in the forest for about four whole days. There was no food to eat, thus resulting to the horrible trauma of facing starvation. Thankfully, he wasn’t dehydrated, which was the main reason why he had managed to survive. However, Donald is scarred from those days of desperation, loneliness, and starvation. Even now as an adult, he can’t bear feeling hungry without remembering that time. Even the slightest feeling of hungriness would drive him nuts. He’d go from nervous and anxious to physically unstable. It’s not a good thing to see.
Creepy crawlies: He hates filth and varmints. First of all, both are unsanitary. Second of all, both can make a person sick. He can't stand bugs and vermin running up and around the house because he has this constant fear that those bugs would make him ill--or worse,deathly ill. Donald tries to be germ-free by washing his hands very often among other hygienic things. But of course, ladies like soft hands so he uses hand-lotion too. The one that can kill germs. He’s constantly scared that bugs will make him die slowly and painfully in bed. With that said, he is afraid of all kinds of bugs, creepy crawlies, butterflies, insects, you name it.
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Donald Finn O’Neill-Kirkland. It’s a mouthful to say, but that’s his name. They call him ‘Donny’ or ‘Don’, for short.
He has always been that sort of animated character. Everyone in the family had known about his vigor ever since he was a young lad. Born with particularly fine and comely features, Donald had considered himself, often in quips of sorts, very lucky.
However, Don did not grow up as a ‘golden boy’ like Arthur. His smarts and talents weren't all in align with his twin and half-siblings, but his charm was what won many people over. Therefore, Donald was usually seen as the cheeky one of the lot, the sweet and mild-tempered twin boy that always donned some sort of a mischievous smile.
Ah, and those green eyes always had a brilliant glow—vibrant, full of life, but as he aged, it began to be colored with a pensive undertone of understanding, creativity, and maturity.He was a good kid with an old soul. Donald thrived attention.
The most of his maturity was evident in the way he avoided trouble, as a wee lad all the way up to his teen years. Honestly, he was (and still is) almost the polar opposite of his twin sister, Aoife, who was stubborn, hot-tempered, and quick to act. Because of his passive and easy-going nature, he managed to be really just the by-stander in the midst of peeved family members. Though he was the chatty one in the family, he had enough sense to not butt in during the intensity of quarrels. Therefore, it can really be said that he is on relatively good terms with his siblings during his childhood; perhaps, terms just good enough to allow him, as an adult, to relentlessly tease and joke with the Kirklands now without much worry.
It can be said that he was on the best terms with his twin sister. Though they can be represented as ‘fire’ and ‘ice’ (Aoife and Donny respectively), they synchronized with each other incredibly well. They came hand-in-hand as a bundle; you can’t have one without getting the other. Inseparable. The twins provided each other the comfort of a companion that really shaped their childhood. In a way, Donny was the ‘dreamer’ and Aoife was the ‘doer’, and together, they had embarked on countless of adventures. During their teen years, they had countless of talks about moving back to Ireland. Don was ecstatic about it of course; he was convinced that it was going to happen. Yet he didn’t expect that picturesque childhood to crumble so quickly.
As he grew older, the family feuds intensified. Every year, there was a new problem. His father, who was his idol, was increasingly becoming the type of man the Bible judges to not be. Lewd. Absent. A drunk. Off with women—married again. The whole ‘remarrying’ thing didn’t bother him until his father left again for another to bring another half-sibling to the family. Since he went to a strictly Catholic secondary school, he was judged. Don was more self-conscious at this tender age and was blessed with that aforementioned maturity and understanding. He took the glowers, the change of tones, and slights much more critically than his sister. Don was starting to hate the religion even more—the hypocrisy and discrimination. Even though each and every day was the bane of his sanity, Donald was mindful enough to keep this undercover. He didn’t want his already stressed-out mother and sister to know how much he was suffering from the cruelty of piety and society.
Still with that keen eye, Donald began to notice all of the darker hues of the human nature. Greed. Lust. Wrath. Nothing made sense to him. People were just bad—naturally bad. The vices were innate—although he was colorblind, he saw every single shade of it. From the slums to the politicians, everyone was a liar. Decietful. Somehow, those colorful, dream-like memories were eradicated by the new, darker ones. Therefore, Don did almost a 180 with his personality. He became a bit more aloof, more quiet and condescending but still unnaturally good-humored during crude times. Approaching the age of seventeen, he became more cruel and hostile. He unofficially switched from a Catholic to a Protestant and joined a religious cult or a violent gang geared towards ‘Moral justice’. It was a young gang—just stupid teenagers playing with fire. But the whole idea of ‘scaring’ people into doing the right thing elicited a spark—a flame, a wildfire. That gang evolved into a cult that ‘threatened’ people to be moral, all the way to killing people deemed ‘unfit for the moral society’.
His crimes, though mostly indirect, were piling up. Don did not want this burden to befall on his family, and so he left. Simple as that. No goodbyes, no kisses—he just left because he felt like he was old enough to do as he pleased. Don convinced himself that he was a man with a duty to do.
For seven years, he stayed on the high ropes of crime while been told that he was doing ‘the right thing for good people’. The religion-based gang slowly decayed, shrouded by the luxuries of which their heinous acts had given them, and became a full-out mafia, also deemed a ‘terrorist group’, that was battling for power. Don, of course being a loyal member, had remained in the group even after the shift in objectives. The man only stayed because of the attention he received and loved.
He was perhaps one of the most important men on board. He was the favorite too, the jolly merry-maker, the lady magnet, the suave man with the flat cap who spoke with such gusto. Clever, gifted, Donald made sure that everything was done systematically, done cleanly and precisely. Even though the gang went rotten and threw away the whole idea of being ‘moralistic’, Don still held his virtues. The first two years into the lawless life, he declined pretty much every sex offer, denying of wanting drugs, save for alcohol once in a while. Whenever he killed somebody, he recited a prayer in a soothing mumble. Don outwardly swore to never kill an innocent and always slay the evil. They called him the ‘Archangel’ as a joke.
Then, he took a breath and inhaled the toxic plume of the criminal life and gave in, which was ultimately what shattered his whole persona. The drugs, sex, and booze ridded his soul of everything good. All of his hopes, his plans, his calculations, and his charm just lost its magic. Debt was piling up—he became addicted to gambling, thus brought the unlucky tide. Ah, that life became too overbearing. He became luckless the moment he abandoned his morals. In a sense, he was falling from grace.
Don was convinced that he was going to rot in hell as he watched life turn from bad to worse. Only then did he truly see the destruction that his monstrous self had done. He was ready to lose it until he saw his sister—in the gang. By God, it was the first time seeing her after years. Truly, he thought she was a heaven’s sent—until he figured out her motive. Don knew her much too well to accept that Aoife became a lawless. Therefore, he observed as he tried to knit his sanity together. He was cautious, frisky, jumpy, and terribly unstable. He lost his popularity; therefore, nobody really paid much attention to him.
Perhaps it was because of his foresight that saved him. There was no other way to explain it other than that Don was lucky—lucky that when MI6 captured him, they spared him. At this point, he was damn sure it was Heaven’s intervention to save his life. Fate—just had to work that way. It was luck that his sister was the double agent. Luck that he was captured and not killed. Luck that they trusted him—and recruited him. God damn luck.
It’s really a mystery why he was recruited instead of throwing him into jail. He assumed that it had to do with his familial relationship and the usefulness of is information during that critical mission. And so, Don accepted the offer with no hesitation, seeing this as the only way to make up for the sins he had really done. Though he was under heavy surveillance, he excelled in his training because of his prior experience. After countless of tests, missions, classes, and oaths, he became integrated as an M16 member two years ago. He swore his allegiance to this team. From this day, he has not looked back. His own ways are gone.
Seen as loud, funny, eccentric, but oddly humble, pious, and sweet-natured, Donald now is seen as the ‘good guy’ for the most part. His moral gears still twitch from now to then—he’s no perfect machine, still enigmatic, but for the most part, he is recovering. Although he has been convinced that he is doing good, he still broods about his past and reflects on what he had been and who he has become.
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