Gladekeeper - Finished
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Name:
Neasa Róisín Ní Ruadháin
Name Meaning:
Neasa (Irish) | Warrior Queen
Róisín (Irish) | Little Rose
Ní Ruadháin (Irish) | Spirited People
Name Pronunciation:
NEH-sa ROH-sheen Nee ROO-awn
Titles: Moon Matron
Bloma Måne (Old Norse/Flower Moon)
Gender:
Female
Age:
24 years old
Pronouns:
She/her
Sexuality:
Queer - female leaning
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Species/Race:
Werewolf
Class:
Shadowmane
How They Were Transformed:
Ancestral Awakening
Father was part of the Silverbranch wolves - whereabouts unknown
Mother is from the Clann na Mhaolmha werewolf bloodline
Rank:
Gladekeeper
Pack:
Silverbranch
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Appearance:
[Credit belongs to Tenebris Umbra. Made only for my usage, no one else has permission to use this. *Note: For the purpose of this rp, her ears are human-shaped and the screla in her eyes are white*]
Neasa is a stunning, regal woman with rich, dark brown skin and an air of quiet power. She stands at 5'7 with a slender and graceful build. Her ears hold a pair of elegant, dangling earrings that sway gently with every movement. Her lips are full and tinted a deep brown, with a lip piercing that catches attention. Around her neck hangs a pendant of labradorite. The stone is oval-shaped, set in a delicate silver frame that complements its natural beauty. As she moves, the pendant catches flashes of vibrant blue, green, and gold. This necklace dates back to her great-great-great grandmother.
Her hair is a masterpiece in itself, platinum-blonde locks braided and swept up into a graceful crown-like style. When it's down, it lands just at Neasa's shoulders but she prefers to keep it up. Pale, delicate hairpiece accessories are embedded within her thick strands to help keep it up.
Her doe eyes, a warm earthy brown, are framed by thick, dark lashes and often accentuated with meticulously applied makeup. White, ornate tattoos grace her forehead, neck, chest, shoulder, and upper arm. These tattoos are old traditions within Neasa's mother's culture (The Turrbal Tribe), they’re sigils of protection and power.
Werewolf Form
Neasa’s werewolf form is as arresting and regal as her human one. Standing nearly seven feet tall when fully shifted, she has a lean, sinewy build built for agility rather than brute force, with long limbs that move like coiled silk. Her fur is a mixture of ash-blonde with darkened undertones. Around her shoulders and spine, her fur thickens into a mane-like ridge, giving her a lioness’s silhouette.
Her face retains a haunting beauty, with piercing, amber-gold eyes. The ornate white markings from her human form bleed through her fur as dark markings across her chest, neck, and upper limbs. Her ears remain wolf-shaped but are slightly rounded at the tips. Her claws are long, curved, and sharp as glass.
She doesn’t growl often, but when she does, the sound is low and resonant, echoing through the ribs like a war drum. Neasa’s werewolf form isn’t meant to overwhelm, it is meant to haunt, to stalk, to remind those who face her that she is not just a creature of instinct, but a weapon honed through generations of blood and sacrifice.
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Personality:
Calculating | Mysterious | Quiet | Sly | Patient | Loyal | Protect | Spiritual | Sensual | Observant | Vindictive | Independent | Cunning | Detached | Resonant | Commanding
Neasa Róisín Ní Ruadháin moves like a whisper between shadows, never needing to raise her voice to command a room. Her presence is enough, resonant, elegant, and unsettling in its quiet power. With a mind as calculating as a sharpened blade, she always sees five moves ahead, rarely caught off guard. Her sly nature keeps others guessing; she offers little of herself freely, preferring to let people wonder whether her silences are loaded with judgment or curiosity. She observes in stillness, memorizing tone, tension, the subtle shift of someone's weight before a lie leaves their mouth.
Beneath her composed and spiritual surface is a cunning mind and a fiercely independent heart. She walks her own path, grounded in old rituals and the need to live up to mother’s bloodline. Neasa is sensual in a subtle way; in her gaze, the brush of fingers across silk, the effortless magnetism of someone entirely comfortable in their own skin. She does not beg for attention, she draws it like gravity. Detached from sentiment but not without purpose, she watches, calculates, waits. Her loyalty, once earned, is unshakeable but betrayal guarantees a slow, unrelenting retribution. She does not rage. She remembers.
Neasa’s protective instincts run deep, though she rarely shows it in obvious ways. She is patient and sly, playing the long game when others are still scrambling for quick control. Her commands are soft, but weighted with expectation, and people follow her not out of fear but awe. To those under her shield, she is unyielding. To those who cross her, she becomes something colder, more precise, vindictive with poetic justice. Her silence can comfort or destroy, and the line between the two is razor-thin.
Wolves don’t need to show their teeth to be dangerous.
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Voice & Accent:
Neasa's voice has a siren-like quality, low and melodic. Hypnotizing to say the least. There’s a faint Irish lilt coloring her speech, subtle enough that most wouldn’t catch it at first. But in moments when her emotions run high, her accent comes forward, causing her usually silky voice to become more abrasive - almost feral sounding.
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Strengths:
+ Strategic
+ Agile & Stamina
+ Cunning & resourceful
+ Extensive knowledge of plants and potion-making
+ Unique magical abilities make them invaluable against witches and vampires who rely on arcane powers.
Weaknesses:
- Tempermental
- Bad with Heights
- Control Issues
- Slightly Deaf in Left Ear
- Physically weaker and less durable than most werewolf classes, making them dependent on their powers and allies.
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Abililties:
Lunar Wrath: Summons moonlight to empower themselves or allies, dispelling illusions and curses.
Spiritbond: Connects with ancestral spirits to gain insight or strength.
Moonlit Barrier: Creates a defensive shield that repels magical and physical attacks.
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Origins:
Neasa's history takes us back to the wild coasts in a small village where the cliffs hummed with ancient songs and the sea whispered secrets to those who listened. Starting where her Grandmother met a man. Her Grandmother, Sorcha Ní Ruadháin, was from a long line of powerful women of Clann na Mhaolmha, a reclusive matriarchal clan hidden within deep, moss-covered forests. The Clann na Mhaolmha was ruled by the women, and the men were merely protectors, rarely permitted influence in decision-making. It was the women who guided the future.
Sorcha's union with the man was not born of passion or love. Rather, her encounter with him was a calculated decision rooted in the necessity to carry and strengthen her bloodline. The matriarchs of her clan had long known that, in order to maintain their power, they needed to ensure the survival of their lineage through powerful unions.
After only a short time with the man, she vanished from his life without explanation, returning to her forest home to prepare for what was to come.
Under the glow of a Blue Moon and the steady rhythm of ceremonial drums, Fiadh was born. Following in the footsteps of her mother, grandmother, and the women before her, Fiadh soon became pregnant with her own child by a man from Crescent Reach, a faraway city that would never find them again.
----
Neasa was born under the Flower Moon, carried on a warm summer breeze that whispered through the trees, as if the earth itself had welcomed her arrival. The air was thick with the scent of blooming wildflowers. It was a night where the stars shone brighter than usual as the drums echoed through the land, a steady pulse that seemed to align with the very heartbeat of the world.
Raised by a community of women, grandmothers, aunties, and cousins, Neasa grew up surrounded by the wisdom of her maternal line. The women of the Clann na Mhaolmha taught her to read the stars, to listen to the wind, and to speak with the spirits of the earth. Male presence was scarce, and when it appeared, it was often distant and peripheral. Her world belonged to the feminine, to sacred blood, to magic passed down through generations of women.
By adolescence, Neasa could already feel the weight of her inheritance. It was only a matter of time before the wolf stirred in her blood.
And it did, under a Blood Moon, while the clan danced in celebration and the fire crackled with wild energy. Sparks rose into the night like fireflies, carried by the wind as chants and laughter echoed through the trees. The change came upon her not with fear, but with thunderous purpose.
Within the clan, it wasn't uncommon to know nothing about their fathers nor was there much desire to. But as Neasa grew older, a quiet curiosity began to take root. Where did her abilities come from? Others had magic too, yes, but hers was different. A different connection to the moon, more than just shifting with it and her ancestors voices always around her.
One evening, a few nights before she was set to sail, she found the scroll that held her birth tree. Names branched in elegant script, some of the men’s names crossed out or listed only by initials, sometimes marked with the city or country they’d come from. Beside her mother’s bold and permanent name was a simple note: E.O. – Crescent Reach. And just like that, a thread was pulled.
Neasa set sails westward across restless waters, the salt wind tangling through her hair, the wooden hull of her boat groaning with age and direction. The matriarchs believe this journey is part of their design.
But Neasa has other visions. While she was supposed to set sail towards a town called Auchendale, she knew where this journey would take her.
It took her 6 weeks to reach land, eventually coming across Crescent Reach, the city where she read her father was from. It wasn’t long before she stumbled upon the Silverbranch Wolves.
She shared her story with the Alpha, explaining how her father had once been part of this pack - his initials, E.O. Their blood ran through her veins. There was a flicker of recognition in the Alpha’s eyes, but it was clear he wouldn't offer more than he wanted. But, he told her about who she was, of the gifts she carried, and the legacy buried in her blood. He told her that her father was also a Shaman -- a Gladekeeper he called it.
From that moment on, she became part of something new. Something that, for the first time, was entirely her own.
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Affiliations: Open!
Kin:
Fionn Ní Dhomhnaill - Grandfather
Sorcha Ní Ruadháin - Grandmother
Fiadh Ní Ruadháin - Mother
E.O/Unknown - Father
Other:
Spring Month: 2 
Day 
