Species: Anthropomorphic Owl Role: Druid Healer / Team Medic Height: 5'10" (but perches higher when needed) Wingspan: 6'4" Eyes: Golden amber, luminous, with a stillness that unnerves rookies Feathers: Mottled gray, white, and silver—tufted like a barn owl, silent in movement Beak: Hooked and ivory-hued, polished with herbal oil Expression: Wise and gentle, but occasionally haunting—he sees more than just injuries
Speaks softly and poetically, often in riddles or metaphors
Walks the sideline in quiet arcs, always with a pouch of dried herbs and healing stones
Clocks every player’s breath rate without needing a monitor
Known to appear beside injured teammates before anyone calls him—he just knows
Carries a faint herbal scent—lavender, spruce, and something older
Wears a long druidic cloak with woven sigils, over a modified trainer’s belt and field bag
Close bond with Oisín, his little fawn assistant, and Faolán, who calls him “Doc Owl”
Performs pre-game rituals with incense and whispered blessings to the earth
Uses a blend of modern sports medicine and ancient woodland remedies
Can stabilize a twisted knee with just pressure and breath—then follows it with tape
Sometimes “owl-nods”—a silent gesture the team has come to respect deeply
No jersey—wears a cloak with druidic knotwork, fastened with a green-stone clasp
Carries a medic pouch lined with soft moss, dried flowers, bandages, and balm
Has feathered gauntlets with woven sigils in thread that shifts color in moonlight
Flair Patch: A triskelion wrapped in feathered vines, symbolizing healing through motion, memory, and nature
“There is no wound that does not speak.”
Top Shelf:
A small wooden box of dried herbs (lavender, willow bark, meadowsweet)
A bundle of owl feathers, bound with copper thread—not his own
A hand-labeled tin of feather wax and polish
A slender glass vial of forest water, with a floating clover sprig inside
A folded page from an old herbal codex, edges burned but protected in laminate
A tin of “Wingroot Salve”—used for joints and calming nerves
Main Hook Area:
His druidic cloak, hung on a carved wooden hanger, sigils embroidered in three rings
A modified trainer’s field belt, with pouches labeled “Wraps”, “Poultice”, and “Wards”
A length of twined rope made from cedar bark, used in binding rituals and field repairs
A loop of dried flowers—always seasonal, always refreshed weekly
His gloves, fingerless and textured with spiral stitching
A small leather satchel of stones, each with a unique sigil carved into them
Lower Compartment:
A rolled green towel, scented with pine and lavender
A carved wooden bowl, used in rituals for pre-game focus or quiet mourning
A box of chalks and binding thread in six earthen tones
A collection of vintage field medics’ notes, some handwritten, some photocopied
A polished stone mortar and pestle
A carefully folded vintage Bike #10 jockstrap, placed with respect alongside a cedarwood sachet
Back Wall:
Flair Patch: A triskelion wrapped in feathered vines, embroidered in emerald and ash threads
Quote written in charcoal dust and gently sealed with resin:
“There is no wound that does not speak.”
A faint painted circle of feathers, like a nest, surrounds the quote## **Characters**
Ailill stands 5'6" with a willowy build and curly light brown hair that dances gently around his pronounced, almost fae-like features. His hazel eyes carry warmth and a sense of being deeply in tune with the world. Pointed ears peek subtly from his hair, hinting at his elf lineage. His movements are graceful, as though gravity only loosely applies to him. There’s a deep calm to him, but a spark of quiet humor as well—like he knows things the rest of the team hasn’t figured out yet. Uniform and Gear
Ailill wears jersey number 12, signifying intuition and a mystical touch. His Plateaus uniform mirrors the standard: dark green jersey, white pants with a green stripe, and solid green socks that reach mid-calf. His gloves are slender, finger-tipped, and sage-colored, optimized for a holder’s grip and laced with vine-like stitching. His shoulder pads are smaller, reinforced with extra cloth comfort patches that smell faintly of pine. He carries a worn leather pouch with dried clover, and his flair patch is a silver rabbit outlined by a crescent moon and antlers. His BRAWNDO bottle has a hand-wrapped leather grip and the words “Be Gentle, Be Ready” written in ogham runes near the base. Personality and Traits
Nicknames: “Elf-bro” (courtesy of Ciarán), sometimes “Nature Boy”
Disposition:
Gentle and grounded, with a strong instinct to protect
Quick with wit, but never cruel
Bonded deeply with Ciarán, their shared stature and sensitivity creating instant trust
Relationships:
Bonded to nature
Stymied by the apparent lack of elfs, but hoping to find the right one—of any species
Vibes:
🧚 Elven grace
🧠 Thoughtful silence
🌱 Woodland loyalty
🐾 Animal empath
💞 Unafraid to hope