Brocc+Casey

// There may come a time where you need to take a chance, even when it doesn't look like there's any hope at all. // __**Masquerade**__: Irish Traveler __**Requiem**__: Werewolf spirit hunter. __**History**__ Brocc Casey ( ó Cathasaigh) was born in 1800 to Muireean and Conall Casey. When he was only three years old, his father, Conall, who had fought and survived on the Irish side of the rebellion of 1798, was slain in the botched revolt of 1803. Conall's brother, Ronan, had helped in organizing the rebellion but had abandoned the movement on the eve of battle upon seeing that it was a lost cause. Still, Ronan found himself hunted by the British Military after they had acquired information regarding Conall and Ronan's connection to both the 1798 and 1803 rebellions. Conall's Wife, Muireean Casey was subsequently arrested and imprisoned by the British military in an attempt to flush Ronan out of hiding. Muireean, however, quickly died of grief in captivity. Brocc, who at the time had was only three years old, was separated from his mother during her imprisonment was given to the Anglican church in to get the "Irish" out of him. It was not until a couple years later 1806, that Brocc's uncle Ronan had finally emerged from hiding to help Brocc to escape.

After Brocc's "rescue", however, Ronan was ill-prepared to actually raise his nephew. Being a vagabond and a fugitive on the run from British authorities, Ronan would be forced to abandon Brocc or risk capture. Uncle Ronan did his best to teach Brocc how to survive on his own, before eventually leaving him on the streets of Nass to fend for himself. Fortunately, Brocc was a quick learner, and was able to pick up enough to get by largely on his own using his wits. Uncle Ronan, however, did not abandon Brocc entirely, however, as he managed to show up a handful of times a year for roughly a week at a time on average. Surprisingly, Brocc did not hold his uncle's long absences against him, as Ronan, while he was around, did his best to look after Brocc in what time he was around. Uncle Ronan also seemed to always be able to find Brocc, regardless of the circumstances, even seemingly showing up at just the right moment to save Brocc from a few otherwise desperate situations.

Living on the streets of Naas, Brocc was largely able to get what he needed to survive. His uncle taught him how to observe and wait for the opportune moment to act, which helped in pickpocketing and stealing from shops and stands. Making sure that he had a backup plan to escape if things went bad had helped Brocc to escape on the inevitable occasion that he was noticed. Eventually, Brocc found that he could make a decent penny by keeping his eyes and ears open and finding out things that are worth knowing, or at least telling for a good price. Letting the right person know about the right things could sometimes feed him for a couple weeks at a time. Also, listening didn't seem to bring on as much trouble with the police, on account of listening not being a crime.

His uncle Ronan, being an accomplished fighter, had taught Brocc enough about fighting to know that a well placed sucker punch could typically buy enough time to get away from a pursuer. In his late teens, Brocc found an additional use for his training when he got involved in the local underground boxing scene, where using his wits, he often managed to keep himself away from his opponent's fists for long enough to land a couple well placed blows to win the occasional match.

Date of Birth: Sept 23, 1800 Height: 5'8 Weight: 170lbs Eye Color: Grayish Blue-Green Hair: Dusty Brown Skin Tone: Light Clothing: A suit and coat taken from Benjamin Clifford's body.
 * Physical Description**

I'd say that Fate's dealt me a bad hand in life, but I know better than that. It wasn't fate that killed my dad and left my mum to rot in a prison. It was those British Imperialists and their friends that they bought from far off lands and even from within our own people. They have no respect for us, only seeing us as a means for lining their own pockets, and if we do anything to fall out of line, they slaughter us like the very sheep we herd for them.
 * Brocc's Story:**

A lot of my old pals have left for America. They say this place is a prison and freedom lies on the distant shores across the ocean. I can agree with them on that. I'm not holding out for a new revolution. I know that I won"t be able to see a free Ireland, at least not for a long while. This land doesn't have enough people left to fight for it. The old have already fought and lost and can only look to their children for hope, while the younger see their free country in distant lands. If Ireland is to be free it won't be for a long time for sure.

Maybe I'll travel to America myself one and some day return with an army of free men to liberate my homeland, but I won't go there just yet. There's still things to do out here before I leave. I don't know who it was who it was that was responsible for killing my father on the streets of Dublin all those years ago, or who gave the orders to arrest my mom and lock her up 'til she died, but I want to find out and pay them some sort of justice for what they've done. I'm going to... I don't really know, yet. I don't know if I could actually kill them. That would most likely lead to more killing of more Irishmen, and stealing from them would be a short lived justice, as that that would only provoke them to further cruelty. The best thing I could think to do is to do find a way to set them up from some crime or act that would get them cast out from their own society, stripped from their power and wealth. That would be appropriate, or at least would give me the satisfaction I'd need before I can bring myself to leave my homeland.

But how would I do this? I hardly know how to start. I could ask Uncle Ronan about it. I've asked him about that in the past, but he just said I was too young and not ready. "Always wait and watch for the right time to act." he always tells me. I'm sure I'm ready now. I've learned a lot about how to survive on the streets from him over the years, and I've even picked up a few skills and tricks on my own. I've learned that words are easy to pick up and can fetch a good price when sold to the right ears, and even how to fight if I ever have my back against a wall.

Whatever I do, I'll need to find Uncle Ronan first. After all, he was my dad's brother, and he'd to be in on this, and I'll probably need another pair of hands for it. Also, I can't leave for America without bringing him along. However bed my lot is here, largely living on the streets, his is worse. I couldn't leave him here in Ireland, always on the run and with no family left. I have no idea where he is at the moment, and he probably won't know where to find me if I just up and leave for Dublin, so it looks like I'm stuck here in Naas for the time being.

Not that Nass is a huge problem at the moment. I've been able to get by without getting into any trouble for the past couple months and I've made a fair pence off some of the news and rumors going about these days. I've earned enough to get a couple meals a day, and when things go well at the fights, I can sometimes even buy a bed to sleep in for the night.

Still, I can't get too comfortable here. Ireland is still a prison for the unjustly oppressed, and ruled by cruel foreign wardens. I'll need to keep watching and waiting, and soon the chance to act will come.