Devlin

Name: Devlin Alastair Farrell Nationality: Irish American Occupation: Unemployed Demeanor: Loner Apparent Age: 22 Played By: Jamie Dornan Nickname: Dev Quotes "Dreams are like stars. You may never touch them, but if you follow them... they will lead you to your destiny." — Khalil Gibran "My silence is just another word for my pain." — Unknown "If you ever find yourself in a fair fight, someone screwed up." — Unknown Tropes Combat Pragmatist: Devlin will do whatever he can do or needs to do to win a fight, using whatever he can get his hands on as long as it does not violate his personal ethics. Preferred method of destroying a bunch of badasses in an otherwise abandoned building? Just firebomb the entire building and set a secondary line of defense with explosives. Parental Abandonment: Devlin's parents are dead as far as he is aware....or cares. Scars are Forever: Not only the physical scars he carries on his body, but there are scars on his mind and soul as well. Some are points of honor for him, some are a shame he will likely never get over, and some he doesn't even know he bears. Yet. Logs None yet! Why not check out the Log Tutorial?

A Glimpse Within Physical Description A shade under six and a half feet tall, this man definitely stands out in most crowds. It's not only his height that has him looming over the heads of most people but it's also his closely-cropped dark auburn hair that curls over his forehead to brush at the top of his eyebrows and the smoky green heat smoldering in his eyes that bear a faint trace of rich brown about his pupils. His face is rarely seen cleanly shaven, preferring to keep a scruffy stubble on his face. About his leanly muscular frame is a black leather jacket over a charcoal gray shirt, matched only by the thick black leather chaps he wears down his legs. The jacket has Celtic knotwork done in lines of dark green thread down the seams of the arms and across the shoulders. On his feet are a pair of boots, suitable equally for comfortably riding his motorcycle and for walking. On both hands are a pair of black leather gloves with the tips of each finger cut open to bare his fingertips to the open air. A subtle aroma surrounds him, a combination of raspberry shampoo, Irish Spring soap, and a light misting of Obsession cologne. When he speaks, his voice is low and soft with a faint lilting Irish accent. The sort of voice that could entice someone to lean in slightly to listen carefully to what he's saying. Playlist The Wild Rover The Dubliners A Horse With No Name America Johnny Jump Up Gaelic Storm Whiskey in the Jar The Dubliners Pain Three Days Grace A Beautiful Lie 30 Seconds to Mars Allies and Contacts Name Name Name Insert another witty remark. Last bit of wittyness. Insert another witty remark. Last bit of wittyness. Insert another witty remark. Last bit of wittyness. Gallery