Antonius || Adrien || Ravenwood
Modeled by || Alex Pettyfer
Modeled by || Alex Pettyfer
✮xxxxxxx The Basics
✮ My parents named me [ Antonius Adrien Ravenwood. ] Haven't heard of me? Well, isn't all that just about to change.
✮ But you can call me [ Adrien ] if you want. I like it better than "Antonius" or "Anthony", mostly because it means "The Dark One." Heh.
✮ There are [ nineteen ] candles on my birthday cake. I love being old enough to take over the world and sip some wine at the same time.
✮ I am now wasting [ nine whole summers ] at camp. This place is so tiring nowadays, I'll be glad to be rid of it soon.
✮ This would mean I have [ eight ] beads. Unfortunately, they don't sell for very much on eBay.
✮ I came to the world on [ February 29. ] So technically, I'm only four and a half years old, but there is no way in hell I'm going to say that out loud to anyone.
✮ The hospital at [ who knows where? ] was rather nice to me the day I was born. I don't even know who my real parents are, much less that.
✮ My parents raised me in [ Wicklow, Ireland ] for the majority of my life. Right by the docks; ugh, I can still smell that awful bass scent, even in America ...
✮ I have [ zero ] siblings, though I'm not sure I'm all that grateful. A young relative may have been a great toy for me to play with; ah well, I suppose I'll have to make due.
✮xxxxxxxThe Details
✮ If you stare into my face, you'll see that my eyes are a [ deep violet. ] Cruel, dark, merciless violet eyes ...
✮ When I'm standing up, I'm actually [ five feet and eleven inches. ]
✮ This isn't your business, but I weigh [ one hundred and forty-six pounds ] on most days. I'm perfectly healthy, thank you.
✮ If I let my hair down, you'll see that it's actually [ faded blonde ] in the light. I hear a single dumb blonde joke and I'll have you for dinner.
✮ Ink is pretty cool. I have a tattoo on my [ right wrist and breast. ] Don't ask why they're a pair of hearts and a cross, because I don't know where the first came from and as for the latter ... well, I'm definitely not Christian.
✮ I'm not perfect and neither is my body. I have a [ faded scar ] angled across my [ back. ]
✮xxxxxxx The Personal
✮xxxxxxxLikes
✮ Basketball, baseball, dodge ball, golf; any sport really that involves a ball and a good possibility that I won't lose.
✮ My taste in food turns to the exceedingly sweet, spicy, and alcoholic. So, hand me a bar of chocolate, a bowl of curry, or a glass of wine and I'll be one happy camper.
✮ Women - they're such useful toys, are they not? Pretty, brainless, and easy to manipulate.
✮ I find Broadway musicals extremely enjoyable to watch; they contain real music, none of that garbage people listen to today.
✮ Did you know how fun annoying people can be? The color their face turns when they've had it with me ... ah, there's nothing more satisfying than that.
✮ Murder mysteries, novels, screenplays, anything like that. Death is such an intriguing concept, and death at the hands of another? Even better.
✮xxxxxxxDislikes
✮ I don't like being proven wrong; I get enough of it from Hawthorne's smart a** and don't need any more of it.
✮ Any person who betrays me automatically goes on to my hit list. Honestly, it's an unspoken rule that's always meant to be obeyed; I betray the ones who work for me, not the other way around.
✮ Let's get something straight; just because I like Broadway doesn't mean operas can enter that category as well.
✮ If you think you're better than I am, I hope you have the money, power, and army of bodyguards to prove it.
✮ I think Thursdays are insanely stupid; they're the only thing that keeps me from Friday and the start of a weekend all to myself.
✮ I hate cliched comebacks. If you're gonna talk back to me, make it interesting!
✮xxxxxxxFears
✮ Well, I've never been the nicest boy on the block, so I'm waiting for fate and karma to get me back for all of my oh so horrible deeds.
✮ Oh, there's a very good reason why I despise Hawthorne with all my heart - he's the one destined to kill me. What absolute bull s***! He couldn't kill a fly, and I mean that in the way of physical prowess. I'm amazed he even can walk all by himself. Though, I can't help but grow a bit nervous when I realize it's been prophesied that he'll somehow manage to kill me. Oh well; it just gives me a good excuse to kill him before he can try anything to do me in.
✮xxxxxxxSecrets
✮ I am a prophetic child; I was born with a prophecy enclosing the details of how my life will end. And to be frank, I can't wait to prove it wrong.
✮ I've stolen, murdered, tortured, done every horrible deed there is to do; I'm an absolutely twisted individual, and I enjoy it. So a word of advice? Don't piss me off, because I'm not afraid to cut you open just to see what your organs look like.
✮ I hate the Olympians. They're the fattest cats I've ever seen, strolling around on Olympus without a care in the world for anyone but themselves. Those fools don't know how to rule their own breed, much less the world, so I'm hoping to put them in their place soon enough ....
✮ My father's murderer and I are quite alike, by all means. Same dashing good looks, distinguished intelligence, and hunger for power ....
✮xxxxxxxWho I Am
✮ Aww, you want me to describe myself without even a first meeting? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Hum, well for starters, you should realize my view of life is comparable to that of a chessboard, where that I am king. By means of manipulation and bribery, among other things, I have accumulated a large horde of pawns, bishops, and knights to protect me from checkmate. So when others say "Life isn't a game," I say, "Oh yes, it is." I hold several personalities around different types of people: when I am with women and the like, I seem as gentle and sweet as ever, every girl's image of "Prince Charming" come to life; if I deem anyone else as more useful or a possible toy, I am more cautious, polite, and friendly; but around useless folk, my true colors shine, as I tend to be very sarcastic, arrogant, and opinionated. Many would think I was bipolar; I'm just a very good actor. I hold very little respect for anyone really, and manipulate anyone I can with always a greater plan in mind. I have always been very sadistic, cruel, and unemotional in nature, and find the pain of others amusing. I like being one step ahead of everyone, and backstabbing is my specialty. I am extremely vengeful, and if anyone knew what I have committed to exact my revenge in the past, I would be forever shunned and disgraced. But of course, that is what lying is for. I don't see people as high up on the food chain as myself; they are either my soldiers to carry out what I need to be done, or they are toys for my own entertainment. I refuse to be bested by ordinary emotions, as many have before me. Self pity, sadness, regret, a sense of self sacrifice ... how disgusting. I can see the pros and cons of nearly every situation, and I am rarely ever scared of anything or anyone. So in short, evil is my nature, my hobby, and my life. Deal with it.
✮xxxxxxxMy Life
✮ My story begins with a widowed man named Arthur Williams Ravenwood. He was a very kind and gentle spirit, one whose life had held not many traumatizing experiences in the past. Only a few months ago, he had lost everything he held dear to him. His pregnant wife had died in a car crash involving a drunk driver, his mother and brother had passed on only a little while after that, and he was left alone with a millionaire fortune and an empty mansion whose very air smelled like death. No relatives or friends at all to rely on, no one at all who would have dreamed to lend him a helping hand. And then I showed up at his doorstep, curled up in blankets, a letter tucked under my pudgy arm. Arthur was thoroughly surprised to find a mere newborn at his door, and even more shocked when he read the letter. It was a bit lengthy, but it had been written by my godly parent to him. What it basically read was the sad fact of my lineage from the Greek gods, when I should be sent to Camp Half-Blood, and one more tiny little thing. The Fates had warned I would become a very horrible opposition to the gods, and that I would someday die at the hands of a "genius of minds" because of this, so they had been hoping Arthur Ravenwood could knock some morals and affection for the gods into me.
Why my parent chose to send me to a middle aged man with depression instead of simply leaving me with my mortal parent, I honestly cannot figure out. Anyhow, Arthur adopted me as his own, thinking of me as a bit of an apology for the loss of his own family from the gods. He gave me the name "Antonius" to honor my Greek heritage and the middle name "Adrien" to honor the death of his son, whom he was planning to name that. He had tried to abide to the letter to the most rigorous detail, acting the fatherly figure any child would look up to and admire. He home schooled me, spending hours on end teaching me in a new and interesting fashion that made learning fun. He would teach me how to play sports in the afternoon, point out the stars to me at night, and cast the Greek myths in a golden light whenever possible. He didn't care very much about keeping up the finances of the Ravenwoods, content with focusing on me and my childhood. I enjoyed a lavish childhood, but was never very content with the Greek myths he told me. I saw the gods as pathetic and ignorant, ruled by lust and petty emotions, and developed a slow, simmering hatred for them despite Arthur's efforts.
Then came Aribelle. She was an older demigod from camp who had come to take me there when I had turned ten, as Arthur had requested. I had come to know I was a demigod the year previous, even before he'd sat down and had a talk with me about it, when I had stumbled upon the letter that had come with me when I first arrived. It only increased my disgust for Olympus; destined to die young was I? "Olympus' newest background threat" was I? Well, anyhow, she took me from the Ravenwood mansion to Long Island, New York via a commercial airliner. A fairly boring trip up until we reached Camp Half-Blood. The taxi that she had chartered to drive us from the airport had been followed by a shaggy black dog, which seemed to make Aribelle anxious. I had simply thought she was being stupid, so I took no notice of the creature when I left the vehicle. My mistake ti seems. It was actually a hell hound in disguise. which promptly attacked me, scraping a claw straight across my back. I fell to the ground, bleeding badly as it came in for another strike when Aribelle killed it with an arrow. She died saving me, the monster biting her with enough poison to kill her only a few minutes later. I never shed a tear for her.
And so I spent half my life at camp and the other with Arthur. When I was twelve or so, I got interested in finances and criminal activity involving such. Needless to say, I did a bit of manipulating with the Ravenwood fortune, stealing and hording whenever necessary so that the Ravenwood name rose to greatness in a single short year. Arthur was impressed as well as easily deceived with my achievements, and so allowed me to handle any money related problems that may have come calling. It was a beautiful life for awhile. I trained well at camp, so I knew how to defend myself and worked with my father's money away from it, my name becoming more known by the day. The only issue seemed to be that adults in the mortal world looked down one me, and often tried to trick me. In return, I taught them lessons none of them will ever forget.
Let's fast forward to a year ago, shall we? I had been polishing my sword at Euras Creek when a voice suddenly whispered in my ear, no person in the area to match the voice. It was as soft as a summer breeze, yet as elusive as a drifting shadow. It belonged to that of a divine being, who seeked my help with a particular task. It had taken me days to decide whether or not to assist them in their mission, but I finally accepted. We worked side by side for months, drawing up plans, plotting quietly with each other. They treated me as an equal, with the promise of immortality as a reward later on, sworn by the River Styx. That was the cherry to top it all of, so to speak. The only thing that ruined? Arthur had eavesdropped on a conversation between me and the voice, they in human form, and had not liked what he'd heard at all. I found out that the'd been spying on me quickly, and took care of it with just as much ease.
The Ravenwood mansion burned in a blazing fire that night, I being the only one of its occupants who survived.
Arthur's best friend in Dublin had heard of the tragic accident and took pity on me, without a home or a father and with the burden of caring for such a huge fortune. His name was Amadeus Hawthorne Senior. The man allowed me to stay at his manor until my mansion could be rebuilt, extending the utmost hospitality towards me. His son resented me, as he always had during the few times we'd met in the past. A genius he may have been, he was still a complete child on the inside and weak as well, and so I had found my newest toy. The boy seems to hate me not only because we are close competitors in many different business categories, but I think he may suspect my relationship with the voice's owner. No matter; I will eliminate him from the equation soon enough. In the meantime, my divine friend and I are still working out chinks from our plan, slowly getting rid of all those who pose a threat to its success ...
✮xxxxxxxThe Extra
✮xxxxxxxFavorite Colors
I think that the colors navy and indigo look quite nice on me, don't you?
✮xxxxxxxMy Music
"When You're Evil" by Voltaire
✮xxxxxxxCrushes
No, no, no; just because I flirt with women on a daily basis does not mean I harbor any romantic feelings for them. I think they are below me, and I feel just the same about most men. So, no crushes for now, or probably ever.
✮xxxxxxxWhere I Reside
My claiming happened exactly three days after I arrived at camp, so I now stay in the Khaos cabin. Such a small place, compared to what my home used to be.
✮xxxxxxxThe All-Mighty Powerful One
The divine being who had worried about how I would turn out oh so many years ago is Khaos. And let me just say that he failed. Horribly.
✮xxxxxxxYour Death
My godly parent granted me a single weapon when they claimed me, as it appeared on my neck right after the glowing symbol above my head. It was a dog tag necklace, made of pure silver and black onyx, shadows seeming to shift in the depths of the gem. By now, I've scratched the Ravenwood crest in the corner on one side. All I have to do is tug on the tag and it transforms into a long sword with a balanced black leather grip.
✮xxxxxxxMy Puppeteer
I am currently investigating one xX_Shining_Stars_Xx as a possible ally; she could be useful when it comes to planning what Hawthorne's next move might be before I discard of her.
