Thread: Love can bite deeper than any beast or blade... ((Me x Dragonsfoot))

Thomas Alexander Teach Edwards sat beneath a tree. Casually eating an apple and reading The Dresden Files Grave Peril. His bright neon orange camp halfblood shirt clinging to his form. Thomas knew most people were shocked to see someone from the Aphrodite cabin reading. He knew most of the girls from Athena's cabin didn't think the sons and daughters of Aphrodite COULD read. He was different from most however. Not only was he older then most demigods got to be Apparently having mythical monsters hunting you, tended to end in a high fatality rate. Who knew? but even among the sons and daughters of Aphrodite he was different . Most sons and daughters of Aphrodite looked like, well Victoria Secret models, crossed with porn stars, with a bit of models mixed in. They all had deep California Beach tans, and Bimbo Blonde hair. Thomas however was a bit thin, almost lanky although he was tall at 7' 8, and muscular. His skin was white, not the pale off pink that most associated as White, but actually very pale white. While he couldn't vanish in snow, he was definitely paler then the average demigod. He did had blonde hair, but rather then the Bimbo blonde it was a few shades off of white. His eyes were a dark sapphire blue. However, whereas most demigods were loud and tended to draw attention, Thomas's eyes showed his feelings. He could be loud, but more often he'd get his point across with a few words and action. That was Thomas's Special ability, Thomas was fast . Most demigods were faster then the average non-demigod, better reaction times etc. But Thomas was a blur even to their eyes. He wasn't some sort of speedster, he couldn't run on water, or blur across a room. compared to calling down a lightning bolt, or causing a tsunami it might not seem like much. Until a knife that had been in Thomas's hand was suddenly sticking out of your chest. All sons and daughters of Aphrodite were beautiful, and Thomas was no exception, but where most were beautiful like a center fold, or a film star, Thomas's beauty was like that of a polished sword. Like watching two skilled martial artists clash. When that was combined with the weapon his uncle had given him, Thomas was as lethal as any other demigod who'd survived over a decade, and their was a reason their weren't many. That weapon was just visible if one was looking for it. A Colt single action army, chambered in for a .45 round, although if it was drawn from the warn leather holster, one might see it was an odd color, an off bronze. It was also a break open revolver, although the black iron cylinder couldn't be removed. The weapon wasn't truly designed by any mortal hand, but a weapon forged by Hephaestus for one of his wife's favored back when such things were common. The bullets made of celestial bronze, and Stygian Iron were made magically, or well honestly Thomas wasn't sure where they came from. All he new was to get more you had to break open the revolver and poor the spent casing out. They'd vanish and reappear back in the cylinder ready to be fired again. Also slightly odd, the cylinder held eight shots, rather then the typical six. The bracelet of hell hound teeth, necklace of lion teeth and snake fangs showed exactly how good Thomas was with it. Of course he also had a celestial bronze bowie knife kept in a sheath on his left hip, it was a foot long, and had been the end to many a monster. He also tended to keep carefully balanced celestial bronze throwing knives tucked away in his coat. The last thing that made Thomas stand out, it was an ankle length leather coat. In truth it wasn't leather, but the skin of the Nemean lion. The legendary beast had been Thomas's first quest so many years ago. It's completion had earned him the coat, and it's reward had been the revolver. The twenty year old heard the lunch gong. Standing up, he dusted off his cowboy boots, the Trophy from a nasty Chimera he'd had to kill on a quest, they looked to be some sort of serpent skin. He'd found they were decent as far as armor went, and like his coat never felt overly heavy or hot. His pants were simple cargo pants in a Snow camo pattern. It was hard to find anything that matched his camp shirt. He checked his Rolex, putting his well read book back into a pocket. Smirking he tossed his apple core in a low arc behind his head, turning he slid his right hand into one of the sheathed in his coat. His hand a blur he let the knife fly. Smirking as it pinned the core formerly of an apple to the tree. Taking the knife, he left the core as an offer to the nymph who inhabited the tree. Or the first Satyr who happened by. Licking the apple juice from the blades edge he smirked to himself. Walking in a long slow gait to the tables. He had a feeling in his bones, he'd be called upon soon.