Post by ayu on Jan 5, 2009 17:47:55 GMT -6
NAME
Thomas Alexander Lyon (Generally just Tom, though)
AGE
26
GENDER
Male
HEIGHT
5’ 7”
SEXUAL ORIENTATION
Gay
APPEARANCE
From his appearance, you might well take Tom to be some street punk rather than a reputable cartoonist and artist. His deep grey-blue eyes are almost always rimmed with eyeliner, his short black hair is a mess of ruffled spikes, and he has a ring through his nose and several studs in his ears and lip. He’s had the same haircut and look since he first sprouted hair on his face, with oddly pointed sideburns and a tuft on his chin that looks like it might manage to be a goatee when it grows up. It’s a ridiculous beard, really, but he likes it and on him it looks pretty good.
He looks far more serious than he has ever been, with his heavy brow, dark eyes and straight mouth, but those eyes often sparkle with laughter and that mouth is rarely still when he’s got something to say. His skin is pale and clear, with high cheekbones but quite a childishly-shaped face.
He’s not tall, but his overbearing personality rather disguises that. His leather-clad shoulders tend to droop, and he’s given himself a bad back way before his time through slumping and squinting over drawings. He’s neither fat nor skinny, nor is he particularly muscley, he’s just…average. He likes leather jackets and black jeans, but his t-shirts tend to be a lot less mega-goth, often bearing his own cartoons or a silly slogan. He hates wearing robes unless absolutely necessary, being both muggle-born and a naturally casual person.
TRAITS/PERSONALITY
Thomas Lyon. A true man of contrasts. When he’s working, he’s the model of concentration. When he’s not, he’s one of the silliest guys around. He can’t stand to be alone in his leisure time and yet if he’s busy you’ll be pelted with pens if you go within a metre of him. He’s as irreverent as his appearance suggests, yet he has moments of utter courtesy and chivalry. He acts half his age most of the time, but when people need maturity and dedication, he’s got it by the bucketful. One thing never changes, though. He always, always means best, even if it doesn’t show.
He’s always energetic to the point of hyperactivity, and when you give him coffee he may well talk fast enough it’s actually impossible to understand him. And he has an absolutely crazy sense of humour, and will talk about anything under the sun. In fact, let’s face it, he’s basically a loudmouthed chatterbox. In the nicest possible way.
He’s never found anyone to love him, apart from a few ill-advised relationships back in his Hogwarts days, but he gathers friends like moths to a flame thanks to his outgoing and friendly personality. He has a pretty good relationship with his family, too, and holds grudges for, let’s see, about five minutes. You have to really, really piss Tom off to get more than a sarcastic response, and even then he’s more likely to grip a pencil until it breaks than kick your ass. When he gets really stressed, he’ll take himself off to the gym and spend a good hard hour indulging in kickboxing or judo, both activities in which he’s moderately good.
SPECIAL ABILITIES
Mad drawing skills, madder sense of humour, pretty good at non-magical self-defence
HISTORY
The Lyon family originated in France, but Tom is fifth-generation Scottish, so it hardly counts. He was born with fireworks outside the window on Bonfire Night, and raised in the middle of Glasgow by two perfectly average Muggle parents, along with his little sister Claire. Even at primary school, Tom was showing signs of his current personality. If you were to go into his classroom when he was in P7 (that’s the last year of Scottish primary school, btw), you would have seen a lazy-looking kid with long hair doodling in the corner and chucking the occasional paper aeroplane. You would have expected him to be at the bottom of the class, most likely, but somehow that little kid managed to simultaneously be a hyperactive, troublesome class clown and smugly score the best marks in everything.
He was ridiculously surprised to receive his Hogwarts letter, and quite upset for a bit, too, because he was determined to be an artist but he thought he’d be made to be a generic wizard. However, from his first introduction to the magical world, he realised the potential.
He really bloomed at Hogwarts, both in classes and socially. Although he was in Hufflepuff, he had friends in all four houses, and he managed to scrape Os and As in most subjects at OWL level. It would have been more, but that was the most turbulent time in his life. He came out to his friends, got himself an incredibly disastrous love life with a string of bastards in an attempt to feel secure in his sexuality, and as if that wasn’t enough his best friend was bitten by a werewolf and dropped out of school. In the end, as he started his NEWT year, he decided not to even bother with relationships, and that was the end of Tom’s search for love.
He graduated from Hogwarts and instantly set up his own business as a freelance cartoonist, fulfilling a dream and proving that beneath that silly and carefree exterior there was a perfectly sensible young man. By the time he turned twenty, he had several cartoons published in various popular magazines, and at the age of 22 he scored a contract with the Prophet. He does clothes designs for himself and his friends, sells cards, draws for the papers and generally gets paid for enjoying himself.
POSITION
Freelance cartoonist mostly working for the Daily Prophet
ANIMAGUS FORM
N/A
WAND
10” willow, unicorn hair
[E x t r a]
MEDICAL CONDITIONS
Mild astigmatism
DAY OF BIRTH
November 5th
PETS
Owl-Athena
Extremely hyperactive Irish Setter-Jack
FAMILY
Mother: Lysbeth Lyon (nee Jameson)
Father: Edward Lyon
Sister (2 years younger): Claire Lyon
PATRONUS FORM
Terrier
SAMPLE RP
The sun was getting low in the sky when a tall man in a leather jacket entered the commonground from the mortal ghetto. He pushed his messy hair out of his face with one hand and slumped down onto a low wall. After a long day at the hospital where he worked on the edge of the ghetto, Andrzej was exhausted, but what the hell, he had been doing this for the last two years.
He hoiked the heavy instrument case from his back and laid it gently onto the ground in front of him, unzipping the pocket on the front in which his bow lived. After examining the horsehair to make sure it wasn't damaged, he laid the bow on the wall next to him and screwed the long blunt spike onto the cello. This was all part of the routine, and his hands moved fast and with a surety brought by a lifetime's practice. He dropped a handful of coins into the open case in front of him to encourage custom, adjusted the cello, picked up the bow and began to play.
The elegant, polished notes he drew from the strings seemed quite at odds with his shabby appearance. He was warming up with some familiar music before airing his own compositions; Beethoven's Cello Sonata No. 5. His fingers on the neck of his beloved instrument flashed and weaved and vibrated almost too fast to see, his bow moving now fast, now slow. Really, these tunes needed a pianist, and maybe sooner or later Sophie would come by, but right now he was just enjoying the music.