Llywelyn-Charmers, thomas

[Thomas Llywelyn-Charmers]

Thomas Llywelyn-Charmers
IS YOUR NEW BEST FRIEND

Don't Hate the Player, Hate the Game

IF YOU DON'T LIKE ME
I DO NOT CARE

FULL NAME Thomas Llywelyn-Charmers
NICKNAMES Tommy, Tom, Tommo, TLC, Charmsy (he goes to a private school, it's inevitable).
AGE 18
GENDER male

SEXUALITY straight.
STATUS single, after his on/off girlfriend from school dumped him in the spring.
RACE Demigod.
OCCUPATION OR GRADE Just finished school, awaiting his A2 exam results, has a place at Edinburgh University, largely for his rugby and cricket skills
SPECIAL POWERS & ABILITIES being utterly, devastatingly gorgeous...it's not easy being a child of aphrodite when you're a straight male...being able to communicate with doves, sparrows and swans is not exactly macho! He can't, like his mother, make anyone fall in love with him, but either through natural good looks and a winning smile, he can sure turn their heads...not that that has ever been useful on a Quest, oh except that one time with the harpy, but he'd really rather not talk about that! Oh and he can speed his healing with a tincture made from rosepetals.

Yeah see? not exactly macho!

I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP
I CAN HELP MYSELF

HAIR COLOUR blonde,growing longer now he's out of school.
EYES *peers at pictures* erm...dark slate gray.
SCARS ah a couple of clean, white scars among the tanned skin of his, one across his stomach, very clearly three claw marks, boy it was fun explaining that one when he got back to school in the autumn...
TATTOOS two, and if he hadn't been cricket captain, boy HOWDY would he have been expelled! a maltese cross, symbolic of the Questthat took him to Cyprus when he was 15, and some words on his right shoulder that he won't tell me at the moment...
PIERCINGS none, guys that look like him who get piercings look like calvin klein models...
PLAY-BY Alex Pettyfer

APPEARANCE He's so pretty...
He's pretty tall, and lean, good for his position as a flanker in rugby, and also for his bowling style (fast left hand) in cricket. He's got a sort of Adonis-esque figure, and fine, chiseled features that when he was younger were a little gawkish, but are now...well...the stuff of demigods. He's got a ready, charming smile and a winning personality.

WARDROBE Oh this might mean nothing to americans etc...but chinos and loose shirts, when he's dressing up a bit, with a blazer for interviews and such, but normally jeans (never skinny jeans) and a rugby shirt or tshirt...

DON'T JUDGE ME
AND I WON'T JUDGE YOU

LIKES

• Rugger and Cricket
  
• Teaching rugby to people used to american football
  
• swimming
  
• epic movies...except alexander and troy...they sucked...
  
• soldier movies
  
• and his guilty pleasure would be old black and white movies

DISLIKES

• left wing politics, though he points out he does not like extremism, and is not a nazi
  
• americans who think that just cos he's from "Englaaaand", he knows "that guy...jooooohn..."
  
• long bouts of rain, he hates being cooped up inside!
  
• arrogance and snobbery
  
• 'screamo' music...it gives him a headache...he's aware that most people at camp would disagree with this...

FEARS

• ants...he had a bad experience when he was a kid and he's just...nauseated and freaked by them...
  
• dying without achieving anything

SECRETS he has a crush on someone at camp, and has for years though he's never acted on it...he won't tell me who it is...

OVERALL PERSONALITY
Oh he's just a nice lad! He's been brought up to respect authority, schools like his do that! So he'll assume command (he's cricket and rugger captain after all) but will also follow orders without...oh you know...a harry potter esque tantrum... (that's the trouble with a camp full of kids all knowing they're half god and the chosen one...ones...it doesn't always make for team players! Tommy is a team player! Having said that, someone starts something against his cabin or one of his friends, he has this fantastic british freezing out thing...

He's the sort of gentleman who'll hold a chair for a girl, but his step mother is a feminist, so he's also been brought up knowing girls kick ass...He lacks the manipulative edge common to Aphrodite's children, but he can be a little vain...or rather, vainglorious!

GET OVER IT
I'M JUST A PERSON

OLYMPIAN PARENT Aphrodite
MORTAL PARENT Roderick "Roddy" Llywelyn-Charmers
SIBLINGS Lucy, his little sister...well, half sister!
OTHER IMPORTANT PEOPLE Polly Llywelyn-Charmers, his step mother...and he'll mention people from school and such, I've no doubt!
ORIGIN York...like...York, Yorkshire...not New York....
HISTORY So like...

Tommy was brought up by Roddy and Polly Llywelyn-Charmers, in York. He went to Clifton Prep, St Olaves and St Peter's schools, all within three miles of his house, a large Georgian building within walking distance of both the River Ouse and the centre of the historic town of York. He suffered terribly from dyslexia, but these private schools were way ahead of their time, and supported him the whole way through, providing him with flat screen computers, recording devices so he could listen to lessons over and over, and extra time in exams and tests.

The ADHD they outsourced with sports, presenting him with a plethora of activities he could throw his excess energy into.

When he was nine he beat a giant to death with a cricket bat.

When he was thirteen, his father was contacted by an elderly satyr who worked at the Minster (York's cathedral) who saw three monsters attack Tom on an art class drawing trip...I say trip...outing...He told him about Camp Half Blood, and Roddy and Polly sat Tom down and told him about the truth, and about his real mother, Aphrodite.

Polly never blamed her boyfriend, and later fiance, for straying. Aphrodite, on the other hand, she thinks is a trollop.

But both parents had to admit that it would be good for Tom to learn to defend himself properly, and to meet children like himself. Besides, his boundless energy was exhausting for them.

So Tom flew out to New York, where he was picked up by two other campers. They got the maddest taxi he had ever been in (one old biddy behind the wheel of a mini is scary, three with one eye between them in a New York cab? terrifying!) and arrived at Camp Half Blood travel sick for the first time in his life. He was in the Hermes cabin only a week, before Aphrodite remembered what she was meant to be doing and claimed him with a pair of doves, and the soft smell of roses. She thought it was nice, her son could not have been more embarrassed if someone had shaved his eyebrows off.

This is his last year at Camp Half Blood, next year he'll go to Edinburgh University, and then he'll be out in the big wide world! Eep! He was late back to camp, because he was on a cricket tour, and arrived at four am US time, the morning of the Capture the Flag. Not daunted, he's had three cans of red bull and he's ready to go! He sure as hell isn't missing out on the first CTF of the year!

TRUST ME
I'M NOT ANOTHER STRANGER

ALIAS welshie
AGE 23l
RULE WORDS if it's my life, i might as well live it myself
WHERE CAN WE CONTACT YOU? PM me on penthesilea jones
WHERE DID YOU FIND US? google.

i went with angst *grins* complete with a highlander line rip off...i love melodrama...this was the culmination of months of planning, a siege, a murdered brother, a dumped fiance, and oh...twenty years of backstory *grins*

you'll be glad to know that the woman this post is written as and the guy she's talking to are now starting to live together *grins*

Right to interfere? I killed a man, Jamie, right has nothing to do with it. And fight? It wouldn't have been a fight, he would have killed you.

But the grief, and the anger, took her to the edge of the precipice, and newfound love or not, she would not be Angharad if she didn't throw herself off it. The pain lanced across her chest, along the lines of her collar bone and deep down into her chest. There was a unrelenting note to her voice as she spoke, and she was half way through her first sentence before she realised she was standing, and the low stool she'd pulled forward had clattered away behind her.

"It makes me nothing I am not already," she barked. It was stupid. It was unfair. It was completely unlike her. Not the rage, that was as much a part of her as her voice, her smile, her eyes. But that she would rage when Jamie was grieving? That was strange. It was almost as though she was trying to push him away. Almost.

"Don't look at me like you don't know who I am. Confused or not, sober or not, you cannot think that I am in any way like her. You know everything, Jamie, everything. Any time these past ten years you could have known what I am capable of, and you were so determined to judge me by her standard you ignored what everyone else in Europe knows."

Her shoulders rose and fell with every breath, and she tried to keep her eyes on his, to absorb every changing expression. Some strange sort of torture, perhaps, but deep in her heart she needed to see it. Needed to see how impossible, how unreturned her love was. Or she would be as haunted by a what if as she had ever been wishing that Anwyn was still alive.

No, she couldn't think of Anwyn. Not now. Better to storm, to be a maelstrom of anger, to be hateful and contemptible, than to think of the past now that she knew.

"Would you like to hear the catalogue of my sins, Jamie? Would hearing that make you feel better? Would it ease the ache in your heart that says you've somehow hurt poor Hari by -- by this?"

She let her voice rise, anger curdling the begging voice in her heart that told her not to, that pleaded with her not to speak. Not to break this beyond reparation. It was already broken. And better by far that he blamed her than himself. He had to see, he had to see what she was.

"I am a murderer. Not an assassin. It's not like Gethin with his clean cuts and away. I am a murderer. And yes, I have killed for you, but I have killed for others too, and I have enjoyed it. I have watched death take my enemies and triumphed to see them dying. I have stretched a death over hours to make them pay for wronging me or mine. I killed a lad of fourteen, not even full grown by norman standards, and I tortured him first, and I was good at it. You hear me, Boy? I am the retribution that comes for them in the dark of a corridor and makes them pay. I am what makes them run home at night, whimpering in fear, and I am the nightmare that keeps them awake in their beds."

It was almost a performance now, her voice dark and seething, her body still but for those long breaths and the violence of the words on her tongue. She had to ignore the counter-point of desperate screaming in her mind as it went on and on, wanting to stop, wanting to hide, to ask him to look away a while longer. You fool, you fool, I could make him love me. Stop. Stop before it's too late, we know the words. We know how to make him need us.

"I have lied and cheated, I have betrayed and seduced, and my name is as feared as it is mocked. Angharad of Clwyd. The courtesan, the murderess...that is what this makes me. What it has always made me. This isn't something I am becoming. This is who I am."

She took a breath, but did not pause long enough to let him speak.

"Is that what you wanted to hear?" She asked, and then more forcefully, daring him to realise the whole brutal, ugly truth of her. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

I GUESS I'LL GO
BEST BE ON MY WAY OUT