ANOTHER NIGHT, ANOTHER FIGHT. perhaps it was cathartic, disconnecting from her humanity and beating the shit out of people for money. call her a monster, evil, she didn't care. in the aftermath of the infected swarm, the only emotion rosaleen knew was angry. angry that she didn't know what the fuck was going on, that she couldn't keep the shamrocks from it all. and yet, she knew it did nothing to feel guilty. when she wasn't making people bleed, herself, finn and feary had seen quite a bit of each other. constantly talking next steps. even if in this situation... there wasn't room for much. there was so much unknown. instead, she opts for a much needed cigarette break, eyebrow still split open. frankly, she's forgotten about it entirely. at least the scar running from her nose and down her right cheek is healing nicely.
of course she has the instrument, the worn pack in her pocket -- but she's at a loss when it comes to fire. shit. running her fingers through her hair in an exasperated groan, she turns before realizing that she isn't alone. " don't be gettin' the fright now. i won't bite ye. " rosaleen allows herself to chuckle, but her face is still stone. " d'ya have a light on ya? "
THE WILD & WONDERFUL APPALACHIA WELCOMES...
rosaleen quinn as written by mel ( they / she / he ).
✱ affiliated with SHAMROCKS ( ENFORCER )
✱ working as BARTENDER / FIGHTER ( HELL'S GATE )
✱ has taken up residence in BURNINGTON
✱ born on NOVEMBER 2 ( 36 )
✱ identifying as CIS WOMAN ( SHE/HER )
✱ known to be EFFICIENT, STRONG-WILLED, CONFIDENT, ANALYTICAL, INDEPENDENT
✱ also know to be RUTHLESS, VENGEFUL, COLD, SHORT-TEMPERED
✱ portrayed by ELIZABETH DEBICKI
WANTED CONNECTIONS.
➥ collecting a debt: as rosaleen is tasked with enforcing shamrock business, she is often the leader of the pack when sent to collect a debt. you may be able to hide now, but certainly not forever.
➥ fighting rival: someone who’s intimidated by the stiff competition rosaleen brings to the ring. she’s been fighting in underground circuits from the moment she could, so she has plenty of experience under her belt. but hell, she notices the fight they give her.
DIGGING DEEPER.
TRIGGER WARNING: violence, blood, parental death
life is never easy for a child born into a world engulfed by flame. rosaleen is born only a couple doors down from where he cousin, tadhg would join her in the world. the war that revenged their country made pretty clear that ireland was not their home, no matter how much she wanted it to be. it certainly wasn’t home when it took her parents. thus, she’s left to fend for herself – clinging to whatever memories she can and her mother’s locket dangling from her neck. she bolts the first second she can, out of fear that anyone could get too close – but not before leaving behind a method of contact for her younger cousin. even if she was not by his side, if she could not take him with her: he would always have someone in this world. she may not have had the means to take him with her, but she would get him there.
she ends up in devil’s elbow completely by chance, slowly gaining funds through using her knuckles. she’s never been trained, never been taught – just an extremely gifted fighter. she joins a circuit, earns a couple of days worth of winnings before eventually vanishing, onto the next town once she get bored. they never see her again. that is, until she reaches the dates and is offered a proposition by the shamrocks – become one of them. make a life here, with us. a short time later she’s able to bring tadhg to devil’s elbow, just as she promised, bring him home. but, she does determine she wants him as far away from shamrock business as possible.
as rosaleen begins to climb the ranks, she becomes far too used to the taste of blood. the sounds of anguish. she stopped wincing a long time ago. her ascension stopped at soldier for a while – something she didn’t seem to mind. she was fine taking orders and following through with them. that is, until the sudden retirement of their enforcer just as she entered her thirties. as expected, she was quick to step up to fill the void without even thinking. now, she was deeper in with them than she had ever been before.
she began bartending alongside fighting at hells gate around three years ago ( considering the amount of whiskey she finds herself consuming, it was only a matter of time before she engaged in the business of selling alcohol ). even if she’s not the greatest saleswoman who ever lived – truly as far from it as you could get, it’s become a great tool to gain knowledge she may not have otherwise in her position. drunk people really do how to run their fucking mouths, especially when asked the right question.
some call her a monstrous being, a 6'3 blonde with a snarl that insights fear into even the strongest of individuals. frankly, she’s inclined to agree with them. relishes in it, actually. however, when she isn’t working at either hells gate or with the shamrocks – she’s looking after her cousin with an uncharacteristic tenderness. she presently resides in a an abandoned building that she has since converted into a livable home in burnington. it’s isolated enough where she can find some amount of peace, but close enough to where she can get to town in a walkable distance.
EXTRAS.
tadhg flanagan: younger cousin/basically her brother. 100000/10 would kill for him without even hesitating.
colt buckley: cat + mouse flirtation. rosaleen is definitely attracted to him, but enjoys the chase a little too much.
MOST NIGHTS, ROSALEEN SPOKE more with her fists than her words when she was in the confines of hells gate ( but then again, she spoke very few words normally ). and yet, there were certain nights where she was making finn's life hell behind his bar -- commandeering it as her own. go see ros. she'll make you one hell of a stiff drink. that's a fuckin' promise. tonight was one such evening, something she considered a lucky break for those who came to fight. she'd watch from afar, like a vulture perched along the branch of a dilapidated tree. that is, until the time came for a well deserved smoke break -- by who's evaluation left up to interpretation.
lips curl around the instrument, eyes scanning her surroundings. even before the cicadas, the enforcer was always on her guard. while there were very few things or people she considered a threat -- you could never be too sure.
her attention is caught, however, at the sight of an all too familiar opponent. colt buckley. things certainly just became far more interesting. the lit instrument is soon found dangling between her fingers, smoke furling around her in a choreographed performance as she exhales.
" ay, buckley -- quite the feckin' shiner ye got there. " the blonde eventually speaks -- a rarity for most to hear, the kind of thing that makes you wonder: is there someone behind me? someone else she's speaking to? " must'a had quite the scrap. with one helluva opponent. "
frankly, rosaleen was no stranger to fighting the men of devil's elbow -- not often just leaving with their money and their pride, but their balls in a vice grip. and yet, colt was somehow different. he always seemed to get right back up from the very moment he was knocked down -- no matter if it was in the ring, or in a battle for her attention. frankly, there was some amount of fun in the chase.
" oh right -- i believe 'twas me. "
the ends of her mouth turn upwards into a grin that can only be described as satisfied -- like a chess player waiting for the next move. or a spider waiting for it's prey to be caught in her web.
LOCATION: tahdg's home, front porch
FOR: beau clary-turner
IT WASN'T A VICE that rosaleen was proud of -- the amount of cigarettes she had smoked over the years. the smell seemed to cling to her with the vigor perfume or cologne could never quite emulate. and yet, she had made some improvement, only reaching for the worn cardboard packaging every now and then. she can't quite remember why tahdg had suddenly been called to town -- when her cousin was in a tizzy, his words tended to jumble together anyway. of course, rosaleen had been insistant that he go, considering the event seemed important to him. she'd keep an eye on things, make dinner if she was feeling generous. the woman also knows better than to stink up her baby cousin's home with the habit she just can't quite fully kick, the instrument dangling between her lips -- freshly lit as she hears movement audibly coming from the front of his property. she knows better than to announce herself, at home in stealth despite her size. some said she was hard to miss: tall and muscular with eyes that bore directly into your very soul. but, rosaleen quinn was always full of surprises. despite being unsure what he's seaking, the woman's shoulders relax a bit when she realizes who it is. beau. " well well, if it ain't te newlywed. " rosaleen hums, finally announcing her presence. she wasn't exactly the best with such social entrances; probably scared the lad out of his skin. " if ya're looking fer my cousin, he had ta run ta town. how's married life treatin' ya? "
ANOTHER EVENING BEHIND THE bar. last night's fight had been a battle well one, something she was proud of ( not that she'd ever allow her opponent to know that ). but, she knew there were times that it was necessary for her to be behind the bar. see everything that was going on from her perch. take a sense of what she needs to know, and report to finn or feary as she sees fit. there's a sense of predictability in the way her regulars came in, approached the bar before dancing the night away. and yet, there was a certain face she had not seen in some time. chuck looked far better than the last circimstances they had found themselves in and ros couldn't lie, she felt her shoulders relax at the sight of seeing her on her own two feet. there's a certain sense of understanding between the two women, something that can't quite be replicated by the others in power in their respective groups. " well well. " rosaleen hums, a catlike smile gracing her features. " aren't ye a sight for sore eyes... care for a drink? "
