Sebastian O'Connell

[Sebastian 'Basil' O'Connell]

[attr="class","bor"]

[attr="class","ctemp"]
SEBASTIAN F. O' CONNELL
demon

[attr="class","con"]
FULL NAME: Forneus  Sebastian 'Basil' Frederick O'Connell
NICKNAME(S): Basil, O'Connell. He hates being called 'Fred.'
AGE: 2600, give or take a few years.
BIRTHPLACE:  Prehistoric Ireland
CURRENT RESIDENCE: He lives in Europe though has taken short term residence in New Orleans.
RANK/OCCUPATION: Security / Secret Agent / Bodyguard
AFFILIATION: demons -- self 
FACE CLAIM: Ilias Peteakis

LIKES

• He really likes carnival/ fair food. Deep fried cheesecake, shave ice and Italian sausage sandwiches. Honestly if it's deep fried he'll go for it in a heart beat. Especially if it's spicy. 
  
• He absolutely loves dogs, their loyalty is astounding.
  
• Cinna-stick vodka – he has a bit of a sweet tooth.
  
• He really likes his mustache, and takes quite a bit of time caring for it.
  
• Classic rock and for some unknown reason the tune of the bagpipes is reassuring. Also Pink Floyd.
• He likes to go hunting, when fox hunting was a thing he particularly enjoyed that.
• Practical jokes and pranks

DISLIKES

• Crabs and their short little legs 
• Those teeny little vespa's. He hates riding them because he's built like a brick.
  
• People who worry too much, seem to be prudish or try to get him to speed up on things.
  
• Flute music, if he wanted to go to sleep he'd let you know.
• He misses that stupid human Moriarty, and out of some pathetic need visits his grave every year and has a drink with him.
  
  

MAGIK:  Wings and flight His wings when closed appear to be a dark black yes but while flying under the sun the feathers at the top of his wings appear to be a light caramel brown. A waterproof survival. His magic is control over the element of fire, the constant source of which he keeps in his breast-pocket. A survivalist's lighter. However it is not what he does, but how he uses the fire. Sure anyone can toast an angel like chicken and biscuits, but he created something far more terrifying, while watching men pour oil into stone troughs, these lines of fire were what gave him the idea, to use the fire defensively, and eventually he was able to create barriers, able to stall or even in one case contain angels.

DIVINE WEAPON: For the short time he was an angel his father's brass knuckles.

PHYSICAL AILMENTS: He has a telling scar on his left cheek. It has stayed with him over the years and he changes the tale of how he got it. He also always has a handlebar mustache. Finely waxed and ready to roll as well as a soft Irish accent.

WEAKNESSES: He's a bit useless naturally on a wet day. He also can't use the barrier's of flame at any moment. He has to plan for them so they're really more of a trap than a barrier. He also has a weakness for deep fried cookie dough. Once he becomes angry it is rather hard to get him to stop being angry which causes him to make risky decisions. Sebastian also has a soft spot for theater though he'd never admit that to anyone.

STRENGTHS: His magic is his biggest asset, his natural skill with hunting as well as surprisingly his stealth a close second. After the invention of the gun however he gravitated to the firearms. Though they do little damage in the end to the angels, they still have a nasty kick that he can appreciate. He's become an expert marksmen, practicing from time to time by taking odd jobs for humans and demons alike in the past. Although an angel could heal from the bullets in his gun, that doesn't mean it hasn't become a form of torture for him.

PERSONALITY:
He is a man of few words, and knows what he likes. Strangely well mannered and at the same time he is rather 'not bothered' by anything or even to do anything. He always seems to act strangely bothered if anyone asks him to do any sort of work, the only exception to the rule. Widely known for both his apatite, his strength and his affinity for naps this 'titan' of a demon truthfully seems to not have any 'care' in the world other than what might be for dinner. However outside of these things he is a well mannered, and somewhat educated man. Though he is no oxford scholar he is more than a punchy strong man. His kind heart towards animals, especially dogs and horses. Naturally he enjoys a good joke and holds his work to be the most important thing in his life aside from his true love, his own magic. If anything were to happen to such a thing he would be left devastated.

FATHER: Sampson (Alive)
MOTHER:   Cathedral (Deceased)
SIBLINGS: He has 5 brothers and 6 sisters. None of whom are of any specific interest to him. Though only he seems to have chosen the path of being a demon to his knowledge.
SPOUSE(S): None
OFFSPRING: No time for that.
OTHERS: 'Professor Moriarty' -- As close to a human friend as he'd ever have.  (Deceased)  And his dog Freeway, a doberman whom he loves more than anything else. And his old teacher, the demon who showed him how to find his magic. They haven't spoken in centuries but they are very dear to Sebastian.

HISTORY:

LIFE AS FORNEUS 

In the beginning living in the Isles was a blessing. Forneus and his 11 siblings enjoyed their time together. Forneus was born the middle son in a family of angels. His father working as a black smith just when the Iron age of Ireland reached its dawn. However Forneus had always been a free spirited fellow, and when others came came from the British Isles from the lands of Rome things began to change. Although their parents had always been supporters for the cause of the Silver Cross, they had grown to quite enjoy their peaceful life among the humans. 

Though even then this was not the worst that could have arrived on their shores. With the angels came the demons, chased from the Italian shores by the church. Try as they might to keep their children from harm it would seem their father Sampson could not both watch over the humans and his own family.  The sparks of rebellion were lit inside Forneus. He knew what the demons had chosen, their magic the most deadly thing about them. The humans knew as well, the family of angels living with their village had proven to be a blessing and thus far no harm had been brought to them. Though their fortune would soon run out.

There had been a time when all of Sampson's children had trained with the two weapons, their mother's bow and their father's 'knuckles'. However the thought that one day his children would have to fight with them was something of a nightmare. Try as he might to keep the family and the small village together while the Roman empire soon knocked on their door it was to no avail. And the demon who had caught the attention of the young Forneus was no exception. 

Forneus didn't quite know what had changed. Just this feeling of restlessness inside the young angel's heart. He had always been a wanderer, a natural born hunter and his curiosity was far more than healthy for a boy his age. All he really needed was to be given a bit of direction. The demon who would speak to the young angel, barely out of his boyish charms was one who understood that. From the moment he had seen the magic at the disposal of the demon the fires had been lit to change the sway of his heart.

And the demon told him what he had to do, take his father's weapon and follow behind in its wake. Forneus agreed, though this was not the foolish agreement of youth. He would never regret his decision to follow the Demon. Just like he never regret anything in life. It was a waste of time.

TO THE RHYTHM OF THE WAR DRUMS

The angel that followed in the shadows of this Demon was built like a brick, and almost in a way eager to see the world. Things were different back then, corrupting their brethren was still a potential choice. The angels hadn't put two and two together that it might be better if they outright killed the demons just yet.  Now his teacher, the Demon whose magic had held him in awe would tell the angel how he would find his own path. The way was simple. He had to kill an angel, any angel would do. At first Forneus was reluctant. The hunter had never fought anything larger than a stag. This would be much different, much more dangerous. They had a lot of ground to cover, and little time to do so.

Rome was the best place for it, it seemed that the angels were congregating there within the holy city.  Far from his homeland there really wasn't a choice but to follow the orders of his new master, and what a promising apprentice he was. Learning far more than just what he had to do to get his power. He was no scholar that much was certain, learning to read proved more difficult than he realized but the effort proved worth while. When the time came he would be ready.

He wasn't sure if it was the blood welling up under his hands or the weapon growing hot by the time he'd found his target, but the feeling was indescribable. He could feel the heat in his hands spinning up through into his chest like the heat of the forge in his lungs. He loved every antagonizing moment of his first real hunt, something that had been a challenge. And he killed that angel, the way the apprentice had been shown soon after discarding the useless weapons from his hands. He wasn't going to be an angel anymore, no longer Forneus, but feeling so very free.

THE DAMN GREEKS 

There time together as master and apprentice was coming to a close, Forneus, having what he wished set off on his own. No longer seeing a reason to stay with his master. Blind obedience wasn't something Forneus had ever done well with. He might have been a follower but if he saw everyone was walking off a cliff he wasn't just going to walk off with them. He needed to train with his power, killing one angel had been the spark, but in this age more of them would be coming and they would be ready. Forneus had to be ready for them.

At first finding suitable ways to train with the element were few and far between. However there was one job where fire was always at hand. He took up work as a blacksmith living in Crete. This was however where his story and the story the Greeks told of him began to depart. As a man who wielded the flames of war so well they thought him at first to be perhaps the son of Apollo, though he denied their claims as being the son of a god was not something he really wanted to be known for. He simply wanted to test his abilities with the flames, his hands in the hot coals.

When asked about his parentage, he in earnest to get them to leave replied 'I have no mother.' Which then began to make them question even further where the man whose hands could be alight with flame and bend the metals so smoothly had come from.

Their answer had made Forneus regret not taking the title as one of the sons of Apollo. No they gave him the name Hephaestus. The lame god exiled from mount Olympus. And as such this angered him even more, to be depicted in such a manner than his shouting could be heard as he slammed a hammer into the pot depicting the story that had been brought to him. But even then the tales continued, they were becoming inescapable now.

THE HELL-FIRE CLUB

His most notorious achievement, was that of the Hell-Fire Club. It had been said in legend that the house had once upon a time belonged to a family who practiced dark magic. The sacrifice of a black cat, it's guts split across the hearth of the fireplace would summon the devil. Accounts of the club's meetings claim that members drank "scaltheen", a mixture of whiskey and hot butter, and that they left a chair vacant at each gathering for the Devil. And that one night the Devil did indeed show himself. Or rather, a devil did.  

The home had truthfully been hosting devil rituals, worshiping and calling upon demons and black magic. And being a man for natural piratical jokes Forneus obliged. One night while the men of the club sat drinking from the fire a demon would appear. He would have his fun and games to be sure, letting them think he was 'the devil' as if there was only one demon to worry about. However the fun would soon be ended after the revelry one night resorted in one of these 'fine gentleman' spilling their whiskey down the front of Forneus' shirt. This was the second time his temper had gotten the best of him and the flames from the fire would be commanded to do his bidding.

The following morning, the local fire department would find the building in ashes, and the smoldering remains of the chair by the fire were all the indication that Forneus had even been there.

'SEBASTIAN MORAN'

As everyone knows, Sebastian Moran was not a real person of course. However there was some truth to the legend. In the early 1700's after the incidents at the Hell-Fire club Forneus had again taken up a new name, the name of Sebastian Moran. He wanted nothing to do with metal work. Nothing to do with the Greeks and more importantly...he wanted simple work. Perhaps it was time to put the forge behind him. And so he set about finding new work. Under the name of Sebastian Moran, an interesting opportunity arose. He would join the  1st Bangalore Pioneers and served in the Jowaki Expedition of 1877-1878 as well as the Second Anglo-Afghan War, seeing action at the Battle of Char Asiab in  1879 and  the Battle of Sherpur in December. 

After returning home he understood his calling. He'd ignored the human invention of the gun thus far through history but could ignore the fire based weapon no longer after discovering it's true power. Surely he had seen it in action at the hunting lodge of the Hell-Fire club but now he was truthfully enticed by the idea. And with his training from the war, the now Colonel of the Biritsh Army would find successful work, under the protection of a rather interesting man.

The humble professor of mathematics was something of beauty to the Demon, whose criminal organization would grow to monopolize all of London and even later be featured as a 'tale' to some degree by the Author Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.  Though the truth of the matter was that the empire of Moriarty was never undone by Sherlock Holmes, but rather thrived until Moriarty's death until the mid 1900's. The pair were inseparable, Sebastian becoming his right hand man, and muscle for most of his operations and with him until the bitter end. Their work was well known across Europe, the empire stretching even to the Colonies, and the crime within New York connecting the world across the pond through an network of criminal dealings. The angels however were the worst problem for the pair as Sebastian's status as a Demon caused minor hiccups. 

GUNS GUNS AND MORE GUNS

After the successful work he had done with 'Moriarty' he continued on with using the name Sebastian well through the turn of the century. He participated off and on in the wars of humans though without 'Moriarty' the fire he'd once had for battle. Not to mention, the sudden change in the tactics of the angels. They had proposed some sort of a, was it to be called a truce? This 'Accord' as they called it spelled nothing but trouble for the peon Sebastian he could smell it. As all  of their 'Lords' had gone into their slumber this left Sebastian without any real form of employment other than to himself or with the humans.

He found regular work as a mercenary, though never quite as good as the crime he committed with the Professor. The certain form of class just wasn't there. He never formed any sort of real attachment with the organizations after that. He did however, begin to amass a collection of the firearms. Despite their ineffectiveness in truly fighting angels he enjoyed the looks on their faces when they felt the kick of his bullets blowing open dinner plate sized holes in their kneecaps. Though he never truly lost his love for the old snipers rifle he had used in the past. 

Glad to find that their Lord's were soon not to be asleep forever through the whispers of crime he headed to New Orleans. Word of the 'Den' peaked his interest despite his attempts to steer clear of them. He understood, most had been like him with the idea of freedom being the absolute pleasure in their lives. Sebastian then settled, in New Orleans and again began to seek out employment under a different sort of master. 

THE GREAT HUNT

The greatest job he would ever seamlessly accomplish would be the capture of the Archangel. With only minimal casualties and a high price tag the world would run much smoother after the success of his mission. It wasn't finding the angel that was difficult. The take-down would be something of a nightmare. Though luckily inside information made dealing with the angels deadly blade arm something of an easy task. Sebastian and his small team of demons would break into the motel, and while removing the air from the angels room would be something more deadly to him than to anyone else. He was sure that Asmodeus wouldn't mind a bullet hole in his precious package if it came down to it. They only said he had to be alive, but bleeding was an entirely different matter. 

Sebastian proved good on his word, despite having one casualty he was sure to clean up the mess, the unconscious demon would remain as such after being assaulted with a boat oar, as the bullet through the skull made sure of that sort of thing. He would make good on his promise and eventually deliver the Archangel, surprisingly without bullet holes into his hands. He currently remains unemployed after such a fun job, recuperating and stopping by the Den of Sin every so often really to marvel at his work. 

It has also been rumored, that upon the walls of his home is the unusual trophy which he refers to as the wings of a 'swan' finely mounted over the fire place in a small study. Though it doesn't take a genius to know what they really are. 

ALIAS: Haverdashum
YEARS ROLEPLAYED: 10
WHERE DID YOU FIND US: internet

[Leto]