✠. Ë &. ă ROBERT SHEEHAN. 34. MALE. HE/HIM. ă KIERAN MURPHY occupies LEVEL FOUR: #405. you'll know THE SAGITTARIUS is home if you hear send me on my way by RUSTED ROOT blasting through their speakers. the YOGA INSTRUCTOR has been living in wisteria for 2 WEEKS. since then they've built a reputation for being lively and scatterbrained, typical for THE VAGABOND.
â BASICS â
NAME: Kieran Murphy
AGE: thirty-four
GENDER:Â male
PRONOUNS: he/him
SEXUALITY: pansexual
HOMETOWN:Â dublin, ireland
EDUCATION: secondary school
OCCUPATION: con artist yoga instructor
tw: drug mention
â QUICK FACTS â
Growing up in Ireland Kieran got into a bit too much trouble with the law and with his peers, swindling all the lads around him for anything of value
He realized from a young age he was quite good at it, and decided to capitalize on his talents full-time
Though he wouldnât label himself as a grifter, thatâs exactly what he is. He picks out his mark, worms his way into their life, and bleeds them dry
Unfortunately for Kieran, he is really bad at picking them
He has snorted, drank, smoked, and tried just about every drug he could get his hands on
The man lives with a carefree attitude, very rarely worrying about finances or keeping a roof over his head, itâs so easy for him to try and charm his way into peopleâs lives
Speaking of charm, he was a cult leader at one point
Heâs left-handed, doesnât know how to ride a bike, and has a special fondness for birds and small dogs. And the occasional cat
He dresses as lavishly and as provocatively as possible. Of course this gets him a lot of stares but he loves attention
â BIOGRAPHY â
Born in Dublin, Kieran grew up in a relatively normal household with his failure of a musician father, and his mum, a schoolteacher
His poor parents struggling to make ends meet gave little attention to their wayward son. His father was a deadbeat alcoholic, and his mother just didnât have the time to spare
Being as unruly and attention-seeking as he was, his parents eventually sent him to live with his old aunt Fiona at the age of 15, who was far from lucid, bless her soul
Fortunately for him, his aunt thought he was his dad, and that they were living in their old childhood home instead of her rundown flat in Hackney. He used the opportunity to try and make a name for himself instead of attending class like all the other good schoolchildren
Up until the age of 18 he worked the odd job until heâd befriended an expat American woman, 7 years his senior, and married her. He convinced her the life they would build together when she returned stateside would be everything she ever dreamed of; and so, several years later, they returned together to CaliforniaÂ
Whenever anyone asks how he managed to get a green card, he states he sought political asylum in America on account of âthe potato famineâ in Ireland
By 25 all his hard work had finally paid off. And by 26, one year after living in America, he was divorced. Nobody had told him how difficult it would be trying to build a life for himself thereÂ
Determined to live out his sole dream of living a rock nâroll lifestyle, it was then he used up all his savings to buy a mini-bus, cruising across the West coast and picking up stragglers along the way
He began looking into establishing a non-profit religious organization that would allow him to become tax-exempt, giving him the perfect opportunity to rake in tons of money while never paying a cent to uncle sam
His âorganizationâ did not hold. His followers eventually exposed him as a fraud, causing him to make a quick getaway to Mexico before the authorities could get involved
Only when things quieted down did he return. He completely changed his game, deciding to capitalize on the health & wellness industry instead. With all the barefoot, bohemian, goat yoga fanatics that LA had to offer, he finally feels heâs found his callingÂ
If hired as a Yoga instructor he will teach it - but his fees are exorbitant. Luckily for him, LA is full of people where money is not an issue
Greg stood off to the side of the elevator, courteous to any new passengers who might have boarded on the way down from the ninth floor. One hand in his pant pocket, the other held his white doctor coat; balled up only exposing the end tail. He was on his way in to work, but only for a brief visit. It was technically his day off, but he couldn't help but wander on-site to check on one of the animals that remained on watch in its habitat after having given birth.
A 'ding' broke his thoughts, warning him of someone about to step inside. He took a side-step further to the corner, looking down at his feet for a quick moment and catching the tail end of his white coat dangle near his knees. Or - what should have been a white coat tail. Instead, it was dyed a dark red. A splatter of dried blood crusting over a large amount of real-estate on the fabric. His eyes grew wide, looking from the blood-stained coat to the elevator passenger who had a clear view of it as the doors opened.
"I can explain" Greg said rushed, with wide eyes, bringing the hand out of his pocket to innocently wave.
âOh you can, can you? Because that, my good sir, looks like blood. My god, have you no shame?â Kieran said, pointing out the obvious dramatically. âThink of the children!â
âPlease do explain.â He said as he joined him on the elevator, putting a fair amount of distance between them. âDo you murder people for a living? If you did I wonât judge, I know weâve all got our kinks though I would say that is very extreme. I do think there are better ways to get off than that but...â He paused in his rambling to reach out and finger his white coat curiously, finally putting two and two together. âOh, I get it now! Youâre a doctor! Crikey, ya shouldâve led with that. I thought you were a serial killer. Do you realize how nerve-wracking it is to step into a lift and see that? You gave me a right scare.â
if there was one thing stevie was good at, it was making bad decisions. like hooking up with the one guy she did her best to avoid because he gave her the ick. why did she do it? who knows? but now he'd followed her all the way from the facility to the apartments. there was no way in hell she was letting him find out where her apartment was, so she made sure she stayed outside the building instead of going inside. "look!" she snapped, taking a step closer to the unwanted guest. "i already told you! this was a one time thing! stop fucking following me unless you want a stiletto shoved through your retina!"
âListen, lady, I like stilettos as much as the next guy, but that doesnât mean I want it shoved into me eyes.â He exclaimed. âAlso, I live here. If we happened to shag one night and bump uglies, then I do hope I gave you a good time, but to be honest, love, I donât remember ya, and Iâm usually pretty good with faces.âÂ
He hoped his honest approach would calm her down. He didnât want to risk getting bludgeoned with a shoe every time he set foot in the building. The man came in peace, most of the time. âShall we call a truce? You keep the heels on, and I keep my eyeballs. Seems like a fair trade.â
Julek was low on everythingâŠ. and when he said everything, he meant EVERYTHING. His fridge was empty of everything but a slightly disturbing looking block of cheese and the Arm-N-Hammer deodorizer someone made him buy, his cabinets were bare except for the liquor cabinet and he was out of any and all laundry detergentâŠ.. and down to his last fuckinâ pair of clean boxers.Â
On a last minute decision, Julek decided to venture down to the laundry room anyway, see if maybe⊠someone had simply forgotten some detergent that he could borrow steal  for a few loads of clothes. As he was poking around and digging, he missed the door opening and someone entering the once empty laundry room.
Waking up hungover in random places was nothing new for Kieran, nor did it bother him. In fact, he was grateful to wake up somewhere familiar rather than in a strangerâs bed. The laundry room may not have been his apartment, but it was close enough.
âOh, hello,â Kieran said, wandering barefoot, completely naked save for the leopard print briefs covering his delicate man parts. Â
âHave you seen my clothes? I seem to have lost them.â He lamented, finally taking note of the look on Julekâs face. He seemed scared. Or was it nervous? âOh, you donât have to worry about me, brother,â He assured him, hoping to ease the tension. âIâm not homeless, I live here.â
