ASHCROFT, Thomas

[Thomas Ashcroft]

{ About The MEMBER }

NAME: Penny
AGE: 16
TIME ZONE: Australian Eastern (GMT + 10)
HOW OFTEN WILL YOU BE ON?: ...=D
WHERE DID YOU FIND US?: Good question, actually.
WHERE CAN WE REACH YOU?: PM, thanks!
OTHER CHARACTER(S): .

{ About The CHARACTER }

x
Thomas Eurythion Ashcroft
"Tom"

CANNON OR ORIGINAL: Original
YEAR: Sixth
AGE: Sixteen
DOB: February 9, 1961
RACE: Caucasian (British)
GENDER: Male
SEXUALITY: Heterosexual
WAND: Hawthorn, twelve and a quarter inches with a core of unicorn tail hair. The wand is only mildly flexible and is particularly good for transfiguration.
BROOM: Silver Arrow
PET: A rather obsessive-compulsive tabby cat named Pip and a small black owl called Haagen.

APPEARANCE:
The old adage, 'never judge a book by it's cover' has never been more true about anyone than it is regarding Tom Ashcroft. At first glance, he does not appear studious or pedantic in the slightest. In a bit of a paradox, though, the shape of his face doesn't convey an impression of athleticism, either. Based on first impressions (said first impressions being his looks and presentation, of course), Tom just seems like an average sixteen year old boy, though putting it that way both annoys him and isn't completely true. After all, it has to be said that he's sort of good looking, albeit in that lanky, mischievous way. The potentially naughty factor in his appearance is wholly attributable to the lone dimple (yes, he only has one, for some reason) that always appears in his left cheek when he smiles or smirks, and considering that he does both of these things equally often, it's become his trademark 'thing', if you will. Once when he was a little boy Tom tried to magically re-arrange his face so that the 'thing' would disappear, but thankfully his older brother managed to stop him before he could sprout tentacles or anything of the sort and since then he's come to lovingly accept his dimple for what it truly is- 'cute'. Yes, cute. Or at least, that's what all the girls say. For some reason, Tom's roguish, lopsided grin gains a great deal of attention from his female counterparts, and being the kind of boy that he is, he certainly doesn't complain about it. In fact, he plays it up, and seems to try to find reasons to showcase his straight white teeth whenever possible.

Tom's face is well proportioned and elegantly shaped, if a little long for his liking. His chin tapers into a slight, very soft point and his jaw is more of a gentle curve than a rugged square. Despite this, the boy's face still retains a good deal of masculinity, mostly because of his comparatively broad forehead, and he's grateful for this fact considering that as a toddler he was mistaken for a girl a few times. His nose has been described as 'aristocratic' by his mother, but really, it's just somewhat long. That's not essentially a bad thing, since it fits the rest of his facial features very well indeed, but Tom still wonders occasionally whether or not he could tweak it magically and still manage to escape notice (as he seems to have a pre-occupation with facial perfection, no doubt born of a childhood spent around expertly carved Greek statues). He always ends up deciding against it, though, because if he's honest about it, his nose does give his face a sort of imperfect charm, and at least it's straight, which is more than what genetics has given some people. It seems that Tom actually has a lot more than what genetics has given others when it comes to his mouth and eyes especially. The boy's lips are naturally curved slightly upwards (but only ever so slightly, you understand) and a mere glance confirms that they have a soft ('sensual', his ever arty mother declares) quality to them. His eyes, however, are anything but soft. A bright, stormy grey-blue in colour, they dominate his face in the sense that they are impossibly eye-catching and always appear to be keen and intent, as though he is perpetually curious about something.

Tom's eyes, unlike most, do not really reflect his mood (sad, angry, happy, and whatnot) but they do seem to light up with laughter when he's amused. His face is framed by medium length dark brown hair which he doesn't bother to style, since it naturally sits in a somewhat messy but pleasing way without any help whatsoever. Most people take Tom for the sensitive, little-lost-boy type because a first glance at his face practically screams it, but his body provides at least a tiny bit of a contradiction to that popular opinion. Except for the fact that...well, he's pale. Not in a sickly, 'never see the light of day' way, but more like in the 'just not supposed to be tan' manner. He's tried. What with Quidditch (he plays Beater or Seeker equally well, but it all depends on what's available) and tennis, one would imagine that he gets plenty of time outdoors. It's all useless, apparently, but it's not really a problem- he is European, after all, and so it's not as though he's an anomaly. Even though they may not have given him a tan, Tom's sporting activities have made sure that he has a lean, well-maintained body. Of course, his height (just a tiny bit over six feet tall) means that he will never appear brawny or particularly muscular, but he likes knowing that he is healthy and has at least a few nicely developed muscles here and there. It's a miracle, actually, given that Tom can and will eat anything. He has the bad habit of often protesting that he's 'full' but somehow going on to eat another plate heaped with food anyway. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to put on any weight at all, as there is no fat on his body- in fact, he's been described by his overbearing grandmother as 'scrawny' before.
FACE CLAIM: Gaspard Ulliel

PERSONALITY DESCRIPTION:
To say that Tom is smart is akin to stating that magic exists- it's just a fact. He can quickly grasp any concept that's placed in front of him, and has never had any trouble remembering intricate details. Unlike some people who resent their inherently nerdy ways, Tom embraces his intelligence, figuring that it's easier to get ahead in life when you have at least half a brain. Just because he's bright doesn't mean that he takes to every topic that exists, though. He doesn't like math or science at all, purely because they are far too exact and 'cold' for his liking. For some reason, he steers clear of precise, calculated school subjects such as Ancient Runes and Potions, and didn't do very well in them at all when they were mandatory. He's always been drawn to writing- not the fine literature kind of writing, mind you, but historical writings. Some people find learning about the past to be pointless, believing that 'history always repeats itself', but Tom knows better than to believe that, and besides, delving into the musty history of the world has always been a part of him. His interest in other countries has also led him to learn several languages, all of which he is very devoted to. Tom probably wouldn't have been able to succeed in his endeavours to learn said languages if not for the potent combination of his determination and his inquisitive nature. He's never been the sort to give up without a fight (unless he figures that the odds are stacked too highly against him, naturally), and he's the kind of guy who will try anything at least once, if only to learn never to do it again. It's said that curiosity killed the cat, but Tom's fairly sure that no harm will come of his healthy appetite for knowledge. So, alright, he can be a little annoying if someone interests him (he tends to almost follow them around trying to figure them out, completely unintentionally and unconsciously) but he can draw a line. Most of the time.

Now, he's not aloof, per se. Sometimes...well, a lot of the time he has a habit of getting caught up in whatever interesting text he happens to be reading (favourites include Homer's Odyssey and Hugo's Les Miserables) and therefore misses out on valuable social interaction. Right, that's an understatement. He has been known to occasionally ignore people without meaning to because he tends to tune out completely when his attention is fully focused on something else (in these cases, books). It doesn't cause too many problems in the long run, but he has been left wondering every now and then why some acquaintances who don't know him very well get angry at him for no apparent reason. Pull the boy away from such great events as the Battle of Agincourt and the War of the Roses, however, and you get someone who's much more socially capable. Thomas has been blessed with a cool and charming attitude when it comes to having conversations, and he doesn't know where it came from but it seems to intend to stay. When he talks to a person, he seems suave (if a bit dorky) and collected, and this is part of the reason that he has so many good friends at Hogwarts. Of course, he sometimes just as easily makes enemies, since he has a low tolerance for ignorance and his occasionally employed 'know it all' demeanor irritates a number of his peers. Still, if one thinks about it rationally, there are so many students at Hogwarts that it would be improbable for a smart boy to get through his education without stepping on a few metaphorical feet, at least. His reputation as being a friendly, possibly slightly sarcastic young man seems to have gotten quite a few of his peers well disposed towards him though, and he never fails to make the impression stick if he's given a chance.

He likes company- who doesn't (apart from the many people who don't)? He's fallen into the habit of being dry and witty around friends who know him well enough not to get offended by it, and is truthfully more of an extrovert than an introvert. Tom can handle being alone, though. Sometimes he even prefers it. To him, having someone with him while he pores over ancient history textbooks or deftly practices the piano would be a very personal experience, and so ninety nine times out of a hundred he can be found undertaking those activities without company. It's always nice to have some time alone to think to himself, and his mood always brightens (if it's even possible) after a good quiet moment spent in consideration. When he's not caught up in something (reading, conversation, piano- he does a lot of things, it seems), Merlin help his friends. The teenager is the kind of person who enjoys a good laugh, and he has a multitude of good friends who like laughing too. As such, he's always got a joke up his sleeve just in case, and even if it's absolutely terrible he can deliver it in such a way that it becomes 'so bad that it's good'. He likes to think that he has enough dignity to avoid making a fool of himself by laughing at his own expense (being an intellectual and all) but sometimes it just happens that way, and who's he to complain? Even when he is insulted in some way, Thomas can laugh it off, usually. He doesn't get angry easily, if at all. In fact, he thinks he'd have to be one of the most rational boys at Hogwarts. His name is definitely not synonymous with the word 'hot-head', to say the least. One thing that his vast knowledge of history has taught him is that conflict resolves nothing, and so he tries to peacefully negotiate bad situations if possible. Sure, if someone whips their wand out and hexes him he's probably going to fight back, but a person would possibly be insane not to.

Tom thinks he can sing. He can't, not even to save his life. That doesn't stop him from trying, though, much to the chagrin of some of his dorm mates. The fact that most of his friends count on is that he's not the sort who sings when he's happy, otherwise they'd probably all be deaf after six years of it. Instead, he simply bursts out in song at random intervals (not altogether frequently either), and thankfully only around those that he knows very, very well. Sometimes he'll even pull the 'bad singing' thing to make girls think of him as being adorable and clueless. Alright, he has morals, but he doesn't know a boy in his grade who wouldn't be a little unscrupulous and use an opportunity around a member of the fairer sex, if given the chance. It seems that he's picked up a lot of tricks to deal with ladies, both from his dad and his older brother, and he has no qualms about playing up the 'bookish intellectual' side of his personality in order to impress someone. Well, he is very smart- it would be a bit idiotic of him to let a natural advantage like that go to waste, wouldn't it? He generally only bothers with girls he's genuinely interested in or really likes in the first place, and so, as he justifies to himself, it's not as though he's doing anything wrong.
BOGGART: The marble sculpture of a drunken satyr that scared the wits out of him as a child.
PATRONUS: Siberian Husky
HOPES FOR THE FUTURE:
Tom hopes to graduate with passable grades (that goes for you, Ancient Runes!) and use his skill with languages and history to become either a diplomat for Britain's relations with the International Ministries of Magic or a historian (though the former option is preferable).

SPECIAL ABILITIES: In accordance with his interest in international affairs and history, Tom is multilingual. He is fluent in Greek (both Modern and Ancient), Latin, and French- as well as the obvious English, of course.
BLOOD: Half-blood
BIRTHPLACE: London, England
MY FAMILY:

Oliver Thomas Ashcroft - Father [46]
Pandora Antigone Ashcroft (nee. James) - Mother [44]
Edward Oedipus Ashcroft - Older Brother [19]

WHATS IN THE PAST:
It's rare that two people are drawn together by art, but Oliver and Pandora Ashcroft were and it is something that they never let their children forget about. Both half-blood former Hogwarts students, the pair never actually met at school, despite the fact that there was only a two year age difference between them. This was probably because Oliver was the craziest, most fun-loving and extroverted Gryffindor in his grade, whereas Pandora was another daughter in a long succession of all-things-Greek obsessed Ravenclaws who generally kept to herself and thought that books about the Trojan War, Odysseus, and the Argonauts were just as vital as oxygen or water. Obviously, there wasn't much common ground there and even if Oliver and Pandora had met at school they probably wouldn't have liked each other much. Three years after Pandora graduated, though, Oliver had calmed down considerably (his ' little phase' was almost over) and was successfully managing a London bank, and so when the two ran into each other by chance the meeting was much more pleasant than it would've been a few years previously. On that fateful day, Oliver had been taking a day off from work with the intent to go and inspect a statue of one of his wizarding ancestors, which he'd been told was located in a quaint little museum in East London. When the young man arrived he was thoroughly frisked by the security guard, who pityingly told him that, "Miss James insists that I do this with everybody, just in case some nutjob who wants to wreck the art comes along." Walking a little stiffly because of the fact that the Probity Probe had gotten a bit too close to some sensitive parts, it took Oliver about ten minutes to get to the statue of his ancestor (who seemed to be involved in something quite interesting, though Oliver wasn't completely sure that those activities would still be legal in polite, modern times).

A cough had drawn his attention away from his impressively carved forefather and he'd turned to see a slightly insane looking woman (her hair was in a crazy bun and there was a restorative brush tucked comfortably behind one of her ears) looking at the statue too. "You the...curator here?" He'd questioned uncertainly, wondering if this was the evidently paranoid 'Miss James' that the guard had told him about. Pandora nodded once, and taking this for encouragement, Oliver decided to brag a little, because despite the paintbrush and the weird hair the girl was still very pretty. "You know, he's my ancestor," he tossed out casually, smirking in a charming fashion at the former Ravenclaw in front of him. This statement seemed to amuse Pandora, because she'd replied, "I hope you don't take after him." Oliver was puzzled- as far as he could tell, his great-great-great-great-great-something-grandfather was very handsome indeed. He even said as much, to which Pandora agreed, but then with a wicked smile she'd pointed upwards and stated calmly, "He's not very well endowed, though, is he?" One quick glance at the statue confirmed that Pandora was right. Flustered, slightly humiliated and generally downright confused, Oliver spent the better part of the next ten minutes trying to explain to Pandora that no, he did not take after his forefather in that particular respect, but when she asked for proof he became even more troubled. Somehow, out of his confusion he managed to ask her on a date, and the rest is history, ironically enough. They were a dysfunctional, but somehow dynamic couple, and he put up with her many eccentricities because she never complained about the fact that he was as messy and disorganized as any man could possibly be. Both the bank that Oliver managed and Pandora's family museum flourished and the two became successful members of the particular circles that they moved in.

Five years after Oliver and Pandora were wed, they became parents to a very loud and boisterous little boy. Pandora was all for naming him Telemachus, but Oliver managed to negotiate with her to the point that their son was given the wholesome English first name of Edward, but the significantly less...orthodox middle name of Oedipus. Still, it was better than Telemachus Oedipus, and as he grew older Edward realized that and came to be most grateful to Oliver for his intervention in the matter. Edward was very much like a miniature version of his father, both in looks and personality, and so when a second son was born to the couple two years later they couldn't help but wonder if he'd turn out more like Pandora. Again, she fought for a strong Greek name (this time it was Ganymede, Merlin forbid) but Oliver saved their little son from that fate and the baby came to be christened Thomas Eurythion Ashcroft instead. The brothers grew up as part of a very good family, with Edward instinctively assuming the 'big brother' role, just as his father had done as a child. As the years went by for Tom, though, it appeared that both physically and mentally, he seemed to be an equal mix of his parents. Dark haired and blue-grey eyed, he cut a striking figure next to his tawny-headed older brother, and Oliver and Pandora received many compliments for both their boys. Tom was a confident, hugely intelligent little boy, to the point that his parents suspected that he could've been a genius. He was...not, however- just very inquisitive and magically gifted. Whereas Edward used his developing magic to shoot garden gnomes over their backyard fence, Tom explored such things as creating fire, light and even small jets of water. Naturally, when he singed one of his eyebrows off he was forced to tone it down a little (he didn't see why- it did grow back, didn't it?), but when that happened his attention just turned to his mother's beloved statues.

Tom loved looking at the mysterious artifacts of Greece that Pandora had collected, but that wasn't where the fascination stopped for him. Soon he became immersed in all sorts of history, riffling through both Muggle and Wizard versions of historic battles and the like. Other cultures became a source of interest for him, and at the age of eight he decided that he wanted to learn more languages. Oliver was a little bemused by this desire, but all too pleased to nurture it anyway, and so young Thomas started being tutored in Greek, Latin and French. Almost as an afterthought, he started to learn piano too (it seemed to go hand in hand with the languages, for some reason). Pandora fretted about whether or not it was too much for Tom to handle, but he coped very well for someone so relatively young. Shortly after Tom turned nine, Edward began his schooling at Hogwarts, where he was sorted into Gryffindor just like Oliver had been. The letters that arrived on a regular basis stating how 'awesome' the school was had Tom itching to go to Hogwarts too, but he had to wait his turn for two more years. Finally, when the boy did hop aboard the scarlet train, the thrill of it had dimmed just a little bit, understandably. His years at the school passed smoothly, with him doing well in most classes (except for Ancient Runes and Potions) and also managing to make a good number of good friends and friendly acquaintances. It was often remarked that he and Edward were 'like...the same, but...not' and even though this grew tiring after a while, Edward still popped in every now and then to make sure his little brother was doing well. Not that Tom needed it. Edward graduated when Thomas was in his fifth year, and easily went on to join the Ministry in some Quidditch-oriented position. Though it was weird for a little while without the constant presence of his big brother, Tom wasn't adversely affected in the slightest and began his sixth year with his seemingly perpetual sense of enthusiasm.

|{ OTHER INFO }

RP EXAMPLE:
(AS ALEXANDER THOMAS)
"But Mother!" He'd protested earnestly, trying to find a way to get himself out of what would surely be a very bad night, "You can't possibly want me to go with you. I'd be such a killjoy, and you'd have absolutely no fun." It was all to no avail- Loretta had been persistent to the point that Alexander Thomas was forced to pull out the biggest weapon in his arsenal and use it against his mother- her memory. "You remember what happened at the last event you made me attend, don't you? At Pontmercy Manor? I honestly don't know how that house elf ended up getting baked into the cheesecake, or how little Ridley Pontmercy fell face first into the punch bowl..." Normally the mere mention of past 'incidents' was enough to almost send his mother running, but this time she had decided to be annoying for the sake of it, apparently. "Darling Alexander," she'd began, and Alex always knew that if she called him 'darling' then she'd never back down, "I'll simply have to risk the accidents that seem to happen when you're around, because there's this girl that you must meet." Ah. Another girl. If possible, Alex's enthusiasm for the idea of going to this year's Pureblood event of the season had decreased even more. "There's absolutely no way I can escape?" He'd questioned, horror evident in his voice. Spiteful to the core, Loretta had stood up on her tiptoes, patted him on the head and assured him smugly, "None whatsoever."

Resigned to the fact that he might have to attend after all, Alex had proceeded to ask sulkily (hey, he wasn't proud of it, alright?), "And where might this event be?" Now, Alexander Thomas was not the type to ever admit he might have said the wrong thing, but when the answer left Loretta's lips he was instantly wishing he'd fought harder before giving in. "Why, Amerson Manor, of course. Elaina and I have been itching for you and Olivia to meet for some time now." And there it was. His mother had noticed (and probably gloated at) the stricken look on his face, and she said, "Now, now. You're not getting out of it." That was two weeks ago, and Loretta had stayed true to her word. So true, in fact, that Alex was currently sitting in her drawing room, reluctantly allowing his mother to comb his hair, although he made sure to give her dirty, accusing and wounded looks whenever she wasn't jabbing the fine teeth of the comb into his scalp. "I'm not going to be nice, you know," he pointed out after one particularly vehement jab. His mother ignored him, set down the comb and set about to fix his black tuxedo. Once that was done, she looked him over and nodded in approval. "However badly you behave sometimes, you are a handsome boy, Alexander. You'll make a good impression." This comment set Alex to smirking secretively, because he'd already made quite the impression on Olivia Amerson, and it was not necessarily a good one either.

"We're ready to go," his mother announced imperiously, before promptly taking his hand and Apparating the both of them to stand in front of Amerson Manor. "I could have Apparated myself, you know," the Slytherin pointed out, but once again, his mother did not deign it necessary to answer him. Instead, she acted as though he hadn't spoken at all and led him inside, where a house elf greeted them and took Loretta's coat. "Well, you know the drill, Alexander. Let's go and socialize," she informed him graciously, but Alex had a plan to worm his way out of it. "Actually, mother, I'm rather thirsty. I think I'll go and get us some drinks." Before she could respond, he took off for the refreshment table and proceeded to loiter there for a good twenty minutes. Eventually, though, he knew she'd come and seek him out, so he filled two glasses with champagne and walked over to where he'd spotted his mother. Without bothering to see who she was talking to, he tapped her on the shoulder and presented her with one of the flutes of champagne, proclaiming unctuously for the benefit of the older woman and the pretty girl that Loretta was keeping company with, "Here you go, mother. It's your favourite." His mother shot him a quick, suspicious look, but then accepted the glass and responded, "Thank you, Alexander, darling," before turning to the woman that she'd been speaking to prior to his arrival and adding, "Elaina, this is Alexander. My only son. He's so considerate, isn't he?"

The Slytherin boy blinked once as his mother somehow said the words 'son' and 'considerate' in the same breath, but shot Elaina (whoever she was) a charming half-smile anyway. "A pleasure to meet you," he said, as smoothly as possible. Loretta wasn't done, though- she caught Alex by one shoulder before he could hurriedly leave and said, "Before you go, darling, there's someone you need to meet. I'd like to introduce you to Olivia Amerson." Alex followed the graceful tilt of his mother's hand and his eyes fell on the girl who was standing beside Elaina. That was embarrassing. He hadn't even recognized her at first, what with the dress, the heels, the make up and the hair. Instantly, he also realized that the Elaina woman was none other than her mother. "Oh, bloody buggering hell, it's you!" He exclaimed flatly, shocking an offended gasp out of Loretta. She quickly trod on his foot with one wickedly sharp shoe heel, and wincing at the pain, Alex added quickly and graciously in what he called his 'social voice', "I mean, good evening, Olivia. It's an absolute joy to finally meet you." This earned him a satisfied smile from his mother, and, as cunning and manipulative as ever, she turned to Elaina and suggested, "Perhaps we should leave Alexander and Olivia to get acquainted with one another? I'm certain that they'll get along wonderfully."
ANSWER: Kreacher, and Dobby, and Regulus. ALL SURPRISES.
OTHER:

{ CODE OF CONDUCT }

I, PENNY have read the rules of the site and accept to comply with them and their modifications. I understand that this is a mature site with mature matters. I understand that I must be open minded about it and will not complain, since it was stated in the rules I read. I will treat all members and staff alike and with respect. I understand that the staff has the power to delete and/or ban me for whatever reason they see fit.

[Lan Dawkins]

[Alexandria Perret]

[Yay Tom!!]

ACCEPTED BY SAM

[SORTING HAT]