DEVON WILLIAM BRYSON - SON OF THAUMAS - DONE!

●○●○● DEVON BRYSON ○●○●○

Open your eyes like I opened mine,
It's only the real world,
A life you will never will know,
Shifting your weight,
To throw off the pain,
Well you can ignore it,
But, only for so long,
You look like I did,
You resist me just like this,
You can't tell me to heal,
And, it hurts remembering,
How it felt to shut down.
- Careful, Paramore

Name: Devon William Bryson
Nicknames: , Will (Only by Maxime), Bill (Also by Max), Bry (By Friends.)
Age: 16
Birthday: 11th of December
Gender: Male
God Parent: Thaumas, God of the Wonders of the Sea
Claimed:
Devon has been claimed since he arrived at Camp with his sister. Nothing special about it. They simply stepped over the border of Camp, and the glowing symbol of Thaumas appeared over their heads.
Powers:
None
Hometown: Greenwich, London, The United Kingdom. (England/UK/Britan)
Family:

• Florence Winston-Bryson (Mother)
  
• William Bryson Sr. (Step-Father)
  
• Maxime Elsie Bryson (Twin Sister)
  

Physical Appearance:
Devon would be described as a very handsome young man, who looks a couple years older than he actually is. Unlike his sister, who looks exactly her age, if not younger.
Devon has thick, bronze colored hair. It is streaked with a lighter gold, which becomes more prominent after hours in the sun. He used to allow it to be so long it would flop into his eyes, and hide half his face from view. However, once he turned 14, he grew out of that stage, and now it’s a neat length. Dev's hair is naturally windswept, but he's also slightly addicted to hair gel, and uses it to brush back pieces of hair which don't stick out themselves. Unlike most guys who tend to their muscles and such, his pride is with his hair.
His eyes are a greenish blue, much different to his sisters. A lot of people, who have bluish eyes have flecks of other colors around their pupil, like yellow and brown. His eyes do not have these flecks, but do seem to get lighter near the pupil instead. He has thick eyebrows, and rather few eyelashes. Those he does have aren't very obvious, but are a dark brown color.
Devon isn't actually pale all the time like other English boys. While he is pale during autumn, winter, and early spring, as soon as summer rolls in, he tans instead of burns. He has a couple scars along his arms and legs, from childhood injuries such as falling off fences and bikes. He also has a scar on his back which is rather large, running from his left shoulder down for about four inches. It’s quite jagged, and it happened when a bit of stray wire on one of those fences he was always so fond of climbing was sticking out, and caught him as he jumped down.
He has strong facial features, with a strong nose and cheekbones. His lips are a pale pink. Dev's ears are slightly off, but as a guy, he doesn't care much for this flaw. He has some stubble on his chin, which is always there.
He's of average height, not extremely basketball-type tall, but certainly not really short either. He stands at about 5"9/5"10. Devon has never actually measured his height, which is why there's not an exact measurement. He's well muscled, though not amazingly so. He's strong quite strong, even though he doesn't look it.
His style of clothing is anything which is comfortable. Black, white, grey and blue are all colors he likes. He wears anything from jeans to tracksuit bottoms, leather shoes to runners. He and Max don't flaunt the money that they have on many things, but he has a tendency to buy jackets and jeans, and she likes Converse Sneakers and tops.
Personality:
Devon could be described in a couple words as a slightly quiet guy with a good sense of humour and a kind disposition.
He doesn't like to lie, and so he'll say whatever he needs to, but unlike others, he's not blunt. He tends to dance around the subject for a while, not sure should he say it or not, until such a time as he realizes he actually does need to tell the person about it, and will finally blurt it out. He's sensitive to others feelings though, and he'll word it as nicely as possibly, and try not to hurt anybody after saying it.
He's not very sarcastic, but he is witty, and is quick to comment on something. This is a major difference to his sister, who while being witty, is very sarcastic. Dev isn't cruel, no matter what he's saying, and he'll try not to let anything go too far.
He's the kind of guy who is trustworthy and truthful. (The kind who people don’t think is real, in honesty). He won't tell anyone what you've trusted him with, because he understands secrets, and he understands that they can cause quite a lot of damage when said. But if asked something which he knows is wrong to ignore, he'll tell you the truth.
Nobody knows a lot about where he comes from. Okay, so people know London. They know the accent, the Queen and etc. But no one knows his past, or what brought him to Camp. Everyone knows his sister, who's quite loud and ambitious. But he's a different story, and not many actually realize the two are siblings. He's "mysterious", in many ways.
Devon is rather quiet, and doesn't make a big show out of things. He'll speak, of course. He'll have conversations with anyone who makes an effort to speak to him. But he doesn't seek out people to speak to. Dev is the type who if he was in High School, would sit in the corner reading a book. But he can't do that, because he has dyslexia, and he's not in High School, so instead he sits in the Cabin Courtyard listening to music on his iPod or on the internet.
He bottles up his feelings, and doesn't like to let everyone know what exactly he's thinking or feeling. If he's hurt, he'll act happy and normal. If he's angry, he'll attempt to hide that behind the mask of cool. His emotions get bottled up, until he can let them out in one large rant to his sister.
Devon is also kind of clumsy. At the very least, people would call him uncoordinated. He tends to drop things, and to knock into things, etc.
He has a great sense of humour, and cracks a whole lot of jokes during a conversation. He even finds the Hermes kids pranks funny, which is saying something. Very little will upset him, and even if the joke's on him, he'll laugh.
Dev is brave, which shows in a fight and when it’s needed. He doesn't give the impression of being an actual fighter, but he can hold his own.
He's kind, nice and understanding and he'll be there for whoever needs him when they need him. He'll give them advice, or he'll just sit and wait until they want to tell him.
Dev is also the peacekeeper. All the times his sister got into a fight or started something with some kid over whatever reason, he was there to drag them apart and calm them down.
Talents:

• Concealing his emotions
  
• Being the peacekeeper
  
• Just being there. When someone needs him, he's there for them.
  
• Sword fighting.
  
• Playing guitar and piano.
  

Weaknesses:

• Fear of heights. Devon doesn't really like being up high, which might account for his constant failure on the climbing wall.
  
• Loyalty. Dev is incredibly loyal. Call it Dev's fatal flaw, but he's sometimes a little too loyal.
  
• He trusts people too much.
  

Likes:

• Music
  
• Guitar
  
• London
  
• Camp
  
• Animals
  
• Training
  
• Chocolate Ice Cream
  
• Pranks
  
• Max
  

Dislikes:

• Vanilla Ice Cream
  
• Being as clumsy as he is.
  
• At times, Max
  
• His Past
  

Fears:

• The thought that one day, he'll lose Max. All he wants is to be able to protect her, from the world and everything in it. Call it a cliché, but he's that over-protective big brother. He never wants her to be hurt. Now, she's all he has, and vice versa. If she was to suddenly fall out with her brother, or be seriously (or fatally) hurt, he'd be alone. If he was to fall out with her, or be seriously or fatally injured, then she'd be alone. He just wants the best for her.
  

Time At Camp: Three Years
History:
Twenty four years ago, Florence Winston met William Bryson in a small music store. The two immediately hit it off, as they both had the same taste in music, they both loved to party, and they were both lonely. At first, it seemed kind of perfect. She'd found someone who didn't try to hold her back, like her parents had, and he'd found someone who didn't just depress him even more than he already was. They were able to be around each other and just sit, not awkwardly or anything.
They were married a year and a half later in Fen Church, London, without the presence of their families, who they both despised. William's parents soon moved countries, leaving for Spain and happily settling down just outside Barcelona, where they lived happily. Florence's parents thought she'd made a huge mistake, as they didn't like "That young Bryson lad", and thought she'd hurried the marriage. They disowned their daughter, and moved to Liverpool, where they live to this day.
William took a job which required them to travel quite a bit around England, and after a couple years of this, Florence decided to remain at their home in Greenwich while he travelled the country. They owned a small, two up, two down house, which they could barely afford.
For a long time, Florence was able to fool herself that she loved her husband as much as she ever had. She was able to put aside any feelings of unease, and was the doting wife whenever he came home. However, seven (nearly eight), years after they married, their marriage was starting to get a little strained. In truth, they were a couple months from disaster, which might not have been a bad thing.
William came home, and surprised his slightly moody wife with a trip to America. New York, to be exact. They had never been able to go on a honeymoon, and of course she questioned how they were able to afford such a trip, but however they afforded it, they left only a couple days after that, and arrived to a luxury hotel room.
That night however, Florence heard William on the phone to the company he worked for back in England, discussing how yes, of course he had arrived, and yes, he'd be able to collect the items which the firm needed the very next day, and bring them back the day straight after. Realizing that her husband had simply brought her on a business trip funded by his work, she stormed out of the hotel to a bar down the street, where she proceeded to get very very drunk.
It was here she met Thaumas. He was sitting at the opposite end of the bar, and sat watching her for the night. About half ways through the night, he came over, talked with the English lady, bought her drinks, and at the end of the night, accompanied her to a little hotel where she insisted she be brought to stay the night.
One thing led to another, and Florence awoke to an empty bed the next day, with a sore head and a pounding heart. She couldn't believe what she had done, and returned to her husband admitting she had been wrong and that the holiday had had the right idea underneath it. They flew back to England and settled back into life immediately, but were rocked when a couple months later Florence found out she was pregnant.
Of course she had her doubts about the children's parentage. She tried to convince herself that the children were William's, but when they were born, she just knew. She knew they weren't his. Call it motherly instinct.
William believed they were his kids, and he had as much say as she did with everything in their lives. He named Devon, Devon William Bryson, after himself, and Florence named Maxime, Maxime Elsie Bryson after her own mother and great-grandmother.
The twins grew up in a home on the edge. It always seemed happy, but in truth, Florence and William were swiftly growing more apart than before, and the only thing keeping the two together was the children. Maxime grew into an adventurous young lady who loved to push herself to the limit (And had quite a reputation as a heart breaker). On the other hand, Devon grew up to be a calm young man who had an inner confidence, but wasn't cocky like his sister. During their childhood, William started to earn more money, and when his parents died, inherited their fortune, which was a life changer. The family moved into a four bedroom home, sent the children to the best schools in London, and had quite a lot of money.
When they were seven, they got diagnosed with ADHD and Dyslexia, which meant they required extra classes in certain subjects, and certain changes had to be made. Maxime was more affected by ADHD than Devon, and she was always ditching class just so she didn't have to sit in a boring classroom and learn Math. Devon was more interested in learning the basics, and preferred classroom studies to things like hurdling and swimming. They were opposites, but loved each other anyways. Florence loved her children. She loved them more than she had ever loved anyone else, but William was different. He was more interested in what they could do for him, would they grow into successful young people, or waste their lives. But it was an okay life. It was stable, safe for the most part.
However, things took a drastic turn after their tenth birthday. William and Florence's relationship went downhill, and William actually started to physically abuse his wife. She stayed with him out of fear that if she stood up for herself, her children would suffer instead. The kids weren't stupid, and they knew something was going on, but they didn't know what until they were twelve, and Max witnessed her mother get beat down by her father.
Maxime was frightened then, always such a brave little girl, and now suddenly so scared of everything. She was scared he would hurt her mother, or hurt her, or Devon.

Everything changed a few weeks before the twins turned thirteen.
Everything came out.
Maxime and Devon were huddled in their rooms, trying not to hear the screams and shouts of their mother and father, a fight which was worse than any other. It had started over something small, something about how Maxime had come home minus one gold bracelet, which William had bought her trying to win back her affections. Max had sold it in school, but Devon told their father he'd done it. Florence had stepped in later, when the kids were in bed, to tell William he couldn't take out frustrations on them.
Suddenly, the muffled words grew louder. And Devon, who's room was nearest, who could hear the words the best, heard one very clear sentence.
"THEY AREN'T YOUR CHILDREN!"
If he was shocked, so was William. The shouts died down and angry words could be heard, what sounded like people discussing something. It went on for about fifteen minutes, and then... Devon's mother screamed in the sitting room.
He got up carefully, quietly, and opened his door, looking to see had Maxime come out yet. She hadn't, obviously too frightened of her father to leave her room. Padding softly down the corridor, Dev opened the door to the living room...
His mother was collapsed in the middle of the floor, a pool of fresh blood around her. His father was right in front of him, staring at the body, a knife held loosely in his hand. There was blood on it.
Devon realized what had happened.
His Father had killed his mother.
He didn't think about it. He didn't pause. He stepped into the room, picked up a heavy statuette that was on a shelf by the door, lifted it and brought it down. Brought it down once, twice, three times. until it fell to the floor with a clunk. William was on the ground now, his head bloody, and no sign of life.
Devon couldn't... he didn't know what he had done. Backing away, he ran out the front door, running, crying, stopping by the river, breathing deeply.
When he was able to calm down, he realized what had happened. He'd killed William. He'd killed him because he killed his mother. And Maxime had been left in the house. Slower now, he turned, jogged down the street, retracing his steps to his home. Walking to Maxime's room, he knocked on the door softly and called out to her. She was still inside. "Maxie... pack a bag. Pack everything you need from your room, and wait in there until I come back. We've got to leave. Got to... go. I'll be back in a few minutes, I'm just packing too. Do not leave your room Max. Do. Not. Leave."
With that he turned, and ran to pack his own things. On the way to get the credit cards from where he knew his mother and father kept them, Devon realized he couldn't stay. He'd need to leave. He could get tickets to somewhere! He and Max could go to Ireland, or Spain or somewhere. Quickly he grabbed the cards and rushed to the computer, where he moved the mouse to bring it back to life.
A word pad was open.
And the words on it?

"D&M, must get to here:
Long Island Sound, New York, America.
~T"

It looked like it had been copied and pasted, but by who? It was easy for him to work out who D&M were. Devon & Maxime. Someone wanted them to go to New York.
It took a couple minutes for him to work out how to order tickets. But he got them. Two plane tickets to New York City. He ran to get Max, and without a word pulled her from that house. He wasn't going to let her see Florence and William.

The taxi drive and the journey to the plane through the airport passed quickly, as did the flight. They spoke like they usually did, no hint of a problem. Max didn't ask, because she knew Devon didn't want to be asked. When they arrived in New York, and caught a cab to Long Island.
There, they were sorta confused where the hell to go. By chance though, they met a Satyr on his way into Camp with another demigod. As soon as he saw them, he knew what they were, and hurried them along, rushing them up the hill and over the border.
And as soon as they stepped over the border, Maxime and Devon were claimed by Thaumas.
Camp life confused them. They hadn't had any warning. When they were first told, they thought the whole thing was a hilarious joke. But then they realized. It wasn't. They were halfbloods, and they belonged in Camp Half-Blood.
It took them a long time to settle into Camp. The two couldn't quite get over the American way. And there was the fact Dev kept getting questions about his family, and he didn't want to speak about them. He never even told Maxime, and he didn't want these people asking him so many questions.
However, they've settled into Camp life marveously, despite some raised eyebrows.
Pets:
None.
Other Notes About Your Character:
Color is RoyalBlue
RP Sample:

The airplane was quiet, given how it was a near 10 hour flight and they had yet to reach the midway point. They were about four hours in, and Devon knew that Maxie was swaggy. She was finished flicking through the magazines which he had bought her, she was done rooting through her bag and even done writing an entry into the notepad she called her journal. Now she was fidgeting, opening the window shade, closing the window shade. Putting on her jumper, taking off her jumper. Folding her legs, unfolding her legs. Opening her bag, closing her bag. It was only a matter of time before-
'Why couldn't we just stay in London?'
There. Well, he'd known it was coming. He'd gotten what? Eight hours of blessed freedom? In honesty, he'd been hoping she would fall asleep and he could put it off forever. "Sorry Maxie, gotta pay the taxi driver." "Sorry Max, gotta find this guy." "Sorry Maxime, talking on the phone."
But no. She'd stayed awake. Through the whole thing, she'd been awake. Surely she was starting to drop off right? She had to be. Max could't stay up on a weekend night! It was physically impossible she could still be awake now, but she was.
'Cause Mum's gone Maxie. I told you that. She's gone. And we had a choice. Go to those people who claim are our grandparents in Liverpool, or go to the house we had in Spain, or stay in Greenwich, or go to New York. If I remember, you were asking Mum and Dad about going to New York during the summer just last week. So we're going. Be happy.'
He turned away from her, resting his face on the back of the seat and closing his eyes. She breathed evenly, not happy yet. It took her about five minutes to reply, and when she did, she seemed so much more tired, her voice hiding a yawn.
'But I don't understand where she's gone. And why the hell we needed to make a choice. I wanted to go to New York so that I could see the Empire State! Are we going to see the Empire State? I bet you we aren't!'
He mumbled into his pillow then, and she could barely make out the words "From a taxi we will."
'No William. Answer me right now, or I'll do something. I'll open the plane of this door and let you be sucked right out. And I won't have any remorse for you.'
He snapped back, looking at her with narrow eyes. His voice was a low hiss, something only she and probably the guy in front could hear.
'Cause she's dead Maxime! Mum's dead and gone. And would you have liked to be left to Dad? No, you wouldn't. Don't go on and on about the Empire State and how you'll open the plane door, cause One, the Empire State is just a freaking building. We have buildings in London. You should have just looked at them. And Two, I really doubt you'd open the door, even if you could get past me. That's one of the repercussions for choosing the window seat.'
Maxime's eyes filled with tears at his words, and he instantly felt worse. Stupid stupid stupid. Now what?
Lifting his arm, which felt like lead, he put it around her shoulders and pulled her into him, putting his head on top of hers.
'I'm sorry Dev. I didn't... I didn't know. And I didn't... I really didn't want to make you angry,' she whispered into his chest, and he squeezed her shoulders.
'Its okay Maxie. Its okay. I'm sorry for getting angry.'
He sat holding her for a while longer, and then he heard her soft snores, her breathing deeper. And he continued to hold her, until he fell asleep too.