HistoryMaeve was born with difficulty. Before her very conception, her mother and father were an unlikely pairing made of two feuding packs. Her mother was an Alan, her father an O'Connolly. Two of the pre-eminent packs upon the Irish Isle that had a blood-feud stretching back almost as far back as oral tradition remembered. When Maeve was born, she was born several pounds too heavy and several inches too tall for her mother’s comfort. A big, but normal baby physically but to the United Pack Council, she represented a political goal. The world’s various wolf alphas agreed by a vote to hold both packs to a truce, treating the young Maeve as the chains of peace binding them together. Maeve’s early life however, made this impossible. Within her first year, Maeve was breaking doctors growth percentiles. When she turned two, ‘Old Blood’ was found in blood tests done by the O’Connollys. Maeve was not a complete Dire Wolf, but she would grow to be a specimen of what could be. This filled the xenophobic, pro-werewolf minds of the O’Connolly pack with malicious zeal. The Alans for their part were less interested in the child’s genetics than the child herself. This coupled with a peaceful emigration from ireland to the US during the Alan-Reunion meant that barely any Alans were left on the island when Maeve had turned six. Maeve’s mother made her move suddenly and unexpectedly to the O’Connolly’s. Maeve was abducted in the night by her mother, spurring one of the largest car chases and violent struggles in Irish Werewolf history. The Alans, outnumbered and attempting to flee the country. The O’Connollys, rabid, numerous, and constantly harrying them. Eventually, cornered, Maeve’s mother had to give her daughter up as a distraction so that the surviving Alans could finally flee. Mocking a ‘battle’ with her husband and scarring his face, she willingly gave her daughter over to his care. What transpired next broke her heart. Maeve’s father had his daughter taken from him, the O'Connolly Alpha intending to groom her to be a beta worthy of commanding respect from all werewolves for her genes. Maeve’s father was instead tasked with pursuing his ‘ex’-wife, their subterfuge holding up just enough for him to be trusted. Maeve was raised a warrior, a spy, the epitome of an Irish-Wolf speciesist. She was pushed into the ‘O’Connolly Blackguard at a young age, learning covert operations and being trained and supervised at all times. More ‘squire’ than ‘knight’, she learned how to maintain an armory and make tactical decisions. When she become of age, she became a full blackguard and began to partake in combat against her pack’s enemies. Vampires, rogue wolves, feral supernaturals, and the like. It was also this time that she had to decline suitors and increasing pressure from the pack to pass on her genes that were far more valuable than her. She was paired with men who had been tested to have a relatively high amount of the recessive ‘Dire’ genes. But in all cases, she at most gave them a one night stand and usually turned them away. The O’Connoly pack even turned to other xenophobic packs for their sons in an attempt to bed their ‘prize’. The constant and increasing pressure soon soured Maeve’s outlook on her position in the pack. Still, despite this she was, with several years under her belt, prematurely promoted to ‘Spymaster’ of the O’Connollys. She was unprepared and her first mission, finding and terminating a conclave of brutish, teenage bloodsuckers, went up in flames. Learning from her mistake and the mistake of others putting her solely in charge, Maeve humbled herself and created a cabinet of advisors. Time passed and when maeve’s father died in his sleep half the world away, Maeve inherited his things and a torn sense of guilt that she did not know the man better. Still, her godfather took the time to give her a box full of her father and mother’s love letters and secret correspondence through the years she was held captive in all but terms. Assigned to an inter-pack security detail for the United Pack Council, Maeve was part of the O’Connolly delegation when they visited the USA for a meeting of the Alphas. Once the days long meeting was over however, Maeve took her leave and the first vacation she’d known as spymaster. With plenty of time and good-will accrued, her leash was loosened and she went in search, secretly, of her mother. The meeting was heartfelt, awkward, wanted, and worried over constantly. Sooner rather than later however, spymaster to spymaster, the two grew close as they could and made up for some lost time. But soon Maeve returned to her pack and duty, a little less confidently and wistfully but throwing herself into the daily security of the pack with vigor. A little more than a year later, the O’Connolly Alpha had a medical emergency. The man was just past middle-aged for a werewolf, but death had taken it’s root and now all eyes turned to the line of succession. The Alpha’s son was arranged to be Maeve’s husband, her wishes and personhood irrelevent to the greater good of the pack. To say she was displeased would be an understatement. Contemplating her options, she decided on something incredibly stupid and risky. When called before the pack to give her answer, and possibly be forced to copulate with the next alpha regardless, Maeve denounced her pack. In an impassioned speech of rage, a lifetime of xenophobia and grooming forming the fuel to a bonfire, a cataclymic meltdown of the self. She raged and decried the O’Connolies. Claws rent her clothes asunder and pulled at her quickly knitting flesh. Pulling a rod from stoked coals, she branded herself above her breast permanently as a lone wolf. Dipping her claws in wolfsbane she carved furrows across the tattoo of her station on her shoulder. Turning on her heels from a suddenly hostile and very angry pack, Maeve left and didn’t look back. With some help from her mother she was smuggled out of Ireland on a ship and soon moved in and attempted to integrate with the Alan pack. Years passed, Maeve tried her hand at a Bar and nearly failed. She took up odd jobs as a muscle or tactical brains for hire and in the process made the occasional aquaintance worth keeping. Eventually she moved to Atlantis, forming a company of ‘Irregulars’ as a corps of mercenaries operating out of the crumbling city. She even rebuilt a new bar, this one a bit more popular. Though it would take Kokoro’s gentle hand and flair for management to turn to bar into a truely profitable business. The onsen Kokoro had built attached to the bar throws many a newcomer off, but Maeve doesn’t mind at all. She owns both and in her mind, Kokoro is free to do whatever she wants that makes people want to give them business. Maeve would even fall in love with a witch and woman she couldn’t possibly have dreamed of. Argen. A fellow Irregular, a fellow merc, a fellow outcast. A kindred soul
Physical ConditionMaeve is a walking mountain most would assume a glamoured ogre than shewolf. Her entire seven foot frame is a testament to exercise, combat, and training. Her corded muscle belying the true supernatural strength within just as her eyes hide the animalistic rage always boiling underneath. Maeve’s skin is fair, freckles adorning her face, arms, and cleavage from many hard hours of running, hiking, and covert ops in the sun. Her body screams ‘female linebacker’, with her shoulders relatively broad and her thighs and calves capable of crushing watermelons or heads. Her arms and wrists are strong, flexing with every movement as they give one the impression she could punch your head clean off. Partly because of a naturally high metabolism and and tremendous workout, Maeve’s abs look cut and designed, akin to a muscle-model at their most dehydrated and ‘cut’. Complimenting her imposing stature and physique, Maeve’s smile is always genuine. Genuinely-concerning, given her enlarged canines draw the eye. Still, the woman’s strong jaw and high cheekbones add an air of tough femininity to her otherwise masculine aggression and shape.
Special abilitiesMaeve is capable in inhuman strength and endurance. While slightly faster than a human based off sheer musculature, she is capable of running farther, lifting more, and working harder than almost any human in a physical endevor. Her high metabolism plays a tremendous part in her regeneration. Capable of having an entire limb grown back with proper coaxing, Maeve’s regenerative powers are robust and capable of feats unthinkable to humans. Lastly, and most iconic to her species, Maeve can turn into two wolf forms. One, a walking 9’, towering bipedal digigrade monster of claws, teeth, and fur is here werewolf form. The other, easily 6’ at the shoulder, is a titanic wolf with massive paws and a broad, muscular, bred-for-killing physique. In all forms, Maeve has access to claws capable of tearing apart flesh, bone, cloth, and even clawing it’s way through thin steel plates.
Specialized equipmentAside from her natural capabilities and claws, Maeve has a couple favorite weapons she takes when dealing with supernaturals:
-A large custom-built revolver more akin to a hand-cannon than a self defense weapon. Capable of recoil enough to shatter a smaller person's wrists, the gun is often filled with specialty alchemist-ammo to produce dazzling, damaging effects on various monsters.
-An enchanted claymore she retrieved from a barrow mound with the spirit’s blessing. A magic two-handed sword with more than a foot of hilt and five more of blade. While it needs sharpening, the blade itself never notches or is damaged by cleaving apart metal, concrete, or flesh.
PersonalityMaeve bring a careful nature to the old saying ‘all werewolves are loyal dogs at heart’. Feeling burned by her old pack, lied to and used, she has a distrust of large organizations. She still has that unfailing loyalty but it’s entirely devoted to people more than ideals. Her hands are open and welcoming but quick to close and punch your lights out. She is unafraid to lay down ‘the law’, even if the law is just keeping her bar quiet and things within her own moral compass. She has a propensity to apply force more than subtlety, but even so, she knows when cooler minds and delicate plans need to go unimpeded. Prone to wrath and drink, Maeve also brings a boisterous joy only the whiskey-fueled fiery Irish heart full of song can bring. Perhaps she is best summarized by her clothes. She enjoys sturdy and colorful in equal but separate measure. Often settling on jeans and boots for functionality but tailored hawaiian shirts for comfort and gaudy color. She is a woman of extremes and creature comforts. A ronin taking pleasure in their lonely status in the world, even amongst friends.
Psychological Evaluation Forward
Sealed and signed by Ian
Even so, I found particularly barbed and public insults to her ability to command and her emotional control were sufficient to rile her into meeting me out of spite. Much as it pains me to resort to such barbarity, I am happy to report that she has come to be less recalcetrant in the face of our sessions. While still difficult to get into my chairs, the smell of cigars and whiskey have become familiar to me. As such, I can confidently say that the below evaluation is throrough.
Maeve is of the standard 'werewolf pack mentality' documented in various supernatural publications. To her, loyality is imperative. She has been burned by her own blind loyalty in the past and, as a result, is distrustful of large organizations. Despite this, she often expects blind loyalty from those who are to follow her should she invest loyalty into them, and it is a weakness.
She is loud, boisterous, violent. She delights in teasing and 'blue collar'/ familial-unit humor, often concluding in pranks. 'Due to her upbringing also has a propensity for suspicion, monitering people she does not know or trust as, pessimistically, she assumes the worst of them. Playing off of this semi-pessimistic outlook, Maeve has a propensity for gallows humor. She is prone to put aside polite tendencies normally, but for her darkly humorous jokes she has an uncanny and often unwelcome ability to find humor in even horrifying situations. I am not convinced this coping mechanism.
Sealed and signed by Belinda
In the present however, befiting her genetics, Maeve shows a number of 'primal' werewolf traits. Her strength is greater than that of the average werewolf, even accounting for size. Her regenerative capabilities are among the most powerful I have ever seen aside from some trolls. She has incredible physical prowess and her resting heart rate is almost borderline worrisome and sluggish, yet all of her vitals are stellar. I would like to see her add more variety to her diet, but she seems content with a preference for starches (potatoes), alcohol, and animal products such as lard, milk, and cheese. She has a proclivity for meat of course, and it accounts for a near majority of her diet. She often has it a little on the rare side, not unlike most carnivorous supernaturals like her kin, so I simply warned her about thoroughly cooking and the conversation ended there. this is a location for a thing
Given Name Maeve Alan-O'Connolly
Biological Sex Female
Species Werewolf, partial Dire-Wolf
Eyes Glowing amber-gold
Hair Short and red, fluffed and spiking naturally towards her nape
Height 7' (213cm) in human form
Languages English, Irish, 'Isles-Wolf'
Relationships Argen: Mate, wife, and deeply in love.Kororo: Owner of the Onsen and Bar, lets the ghost smooth the show over. Adora 'Belle': Manager and friend. Carmen 'Belle': Manager and patron of the alchemic brewing arts
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