CARPETHOS, dante apostolos

[DANTE APOSTOLOS CARPETHOS]

Look here, what Do you see? Are You Looking Forward to Get Tangle Up in Me? FULL NAME Dante Apostolos Carpethos, born Panos AGE & BIRTHDAY Twenty-five, born 14-Feb-2000 OCCUPATION Beauxbatons alumnus, Inferno Tattoo Parlor Owner & Tattoo Artist, Hunter BLOOD STATUS Pure-blood. FACE CLAIM Cole Mohr. WAND TYPE Thriteen inches, chimera scale, rowan. PATRONUS Jackal. PETS Amadeus, a Ranchu goldfish he keeps at the tattoo parlor on the first desk. ABILITIES Occlumency and Legilimency Tell me who you are, I'm sure you're some kind of superstar. Free Style scar tissue that i wish you saw, ' first scar , UPPER RIGHT ARM, AGE 0. "Shut that damn kid up!" Dante Panos didn't belong on the earth. He's a mistake, a nuisance, he is an unnecessary existence in the life of Angelo Panos, a child that he never wanted or needed. Angelo already had two sons, two heirs, Dante was nothing more than the bastard of his seventeen year old Italian mistress with endless raccoon eyes. Stolen away from the Carpethos clan under false pretenses, promised a life she now knew she would never see. "What the hell is he crying for!" "He's a baby, that's what they do." her eyes are always tired now, with far less smeared mascara to hide the bags under her eyes, and she desperately wishes she was as good at this 'mom' thing, but she has never been good at anything in life, not being a daughter, not being a hunter, not being a mother. Angelo reminds her of these things and more constantly. "....I'll give him something to cry about." Angelo's brain is pulsing with his sons' screams, unaware that all the baby wants is some form of positive affection or a hint of love. Instead he goes to Dante's room and picks him up in a way that only makes Dante scream more loudly. "...No, don't, put him down, stop." Her protests are so weak and futile, as timid as a mouse. She is useless and so is the baby, and it makes Angelo's temper red hot. She has pasta boiling on the stove and he makes his way through the kitchen. Angelo is actually meaning to go to the backyard, to leave the baby out like a dog being punished, yet as he walks with his broad structure, his elbow strikes the handle of the boiling water and it spills, burning his arm and making him drop the baby, whose very upper arm lands in the still steaming water. Now Dante really had something to cry about. Dante and Angelo would eventually bare the same burn scars on their arm. It's as if Dante was stamped to remind him of where he comes from. Not that there was ever the chance he would forget. chapter one , Every family has a history, some just are more predominate than others, and some are best left to turn to dust. The Panos family went back generations, hunters of the night. But not all hunters are the same, any of the clans could tell you that and if there was one family that stood out the most it was the Panos. Somewhere along the lines of history the Panos family became warped, twisted as some would say. Their morals and teachings questioned even by the most ruthless and vulgar of the families. A once powerful family was quickly reduced to a dying breed after years of disagreements and wronging of the other families. Exiled and hated the family was left to die out. But the Panos family had always been fighters. Slowly through the years their numbers grew, and slowly their anger and rage for the past did too. Their time was coming, and soon enough they would make the other families pay and they would show them who the truest hunters were. They just never expected their fate would lay in the hands of a pathetic Carpethos baby. ' second scar , LEFT SHIN, AGE 5. The universal truth in the Panos household is that the only guaranteed safety is to avoid daddy at all cost. It's hard to avoid a raging bull that sees the world in red, though. It was easier living on a different part of the estate, separated from the main house, Daddy was more occupied with Stefan and Luca but Dante was a curious boy. So rarely did Daddy let him play with his brothers and when he made the mistake of asking his father he was met with the back of his hand and a lecture on how real Panos boys didn't play, they trained. He watches with face pressed against glass as his Stefan and Luca spar doing his best to keep hidden away. But as he grows all the more curious he finds himself pushing on the window more, he doesn't even notice how it is slowly opening until he finds himself tumbling into the room. "What do you think you're doing boy?" For whatever reason, Dante looks up to his father, although he knows what a temper the man has, has experienced first hand what its' like when daddy comes home angry. He's been beaten many times, but in his mind it's always his fault. It doesn't help that his mother idly stands by, her protests weak and scared. She gets away with far less bruises than her son, although she's just as much as a pain of to Angelo as he is. Everyone is a bane to Angelo's existence though. Dante finally manages the courage to ask him if he could teach him how to fight, just like Stefan and Luca. Angelo agrees all too eagerly. If Dante was any older he would have known something was up, would have run the other way, but for now he's ecstatic and even seeing Dante being happy make's Angelo temper rage. Soon enough his mistake is realized when Angelo lets his sons at one another. They chase him down the long halls and grab him by the collar of his shirt. They spit words of hate at him and he doesn't like it, he doesn't like any of this. Its Stefan who throws the first punch and it makes Dante's breath catch in his lungs. He staggers back, the steps so close his eyes flicker with some hope but Luca had other ideas. One push is all it takes and Dante finds the world tumbling around him, its the first time he has ever heard a bone crack in two. His screams echo on the walls as his hands grab at his leg when he curls into a ball at the bottom of the stairs. But grabbing it only makes it hurt more. His nose is overwhelmed with the smell of rust, the first time he has ever smelt his own blood and at five years old he hates it. tiny fingers grab at the shattered white protruding from his skin, his body trembling with fear before he howls in pain again. Even as he lay there screaming he could almost swear he heard his father telling his brother's they had done well. chapter two , His mother protested, said he wasn't ready, said that they needed a Carpethos hunter in their ranks, but his father wasn't going to listen. Night after night his mother healed his scraps, his bumps, his bruises, and every broken bone that Daddy, Stefan, and Luca could give him. She mutterers about how wicked it is for a fourteen and nine-year-old to do such things to their own brother. But she never says how its wrong for Daddy. Some how he deserves his father's treatment, if just for being born. He learns to take their hits, learns to not cry, its what he deserves after all. And some how the smell and taste of blood starts to become something he doesn't hate anymore, its just one more fact of life. Daddy always told him it was kill or be killed, the young boy could only wonder just which it would be, would he be the killer or would be the killed? ' third scar , BRIDGE OF NOSE, AGE 10. It was an accident. Dante knew he wasn't allowed to be there but Luca told him a way to sneak in, teased him with what it was like to watch the fifthly mutts fight. Don't get caught, that was the only rule. Luca didn't have to explain why, Dante was no stranger to his father's rage. Its easy to get caught up in the rush of the moment, the yelling, the way the wolves tear into one another, the hot blood that splatters the bystanders that rattle the iron bars of the cage. Its as the small one drops to the ground staggering for breath that he feels himself being dragged off by the collar of he his shirt. Before the door closes he catches sight of a snickering Luca. Dante tries to explain himself, he tries to explain himself to deaf ears because his father surely isn't listening. Instead he is curling up his fists and sneering and anticipating something that he has grown exceptionally good at. He strikes his son in the nose, with a force he has never used before. Blood gushes from Dante's broken nose. the smell of blood takes over his senses, but he's used to it by now. The blood spills over his lips and stain his teeth, and now he doesn't cry and although the pain is excruciating he smiles. He smiles a Cheshire smile that makes him look utterly insane. Maybe he has reached his breaking point at ten years old. His dad backs away from him, he has never seen a kid like this, because Dante is laughing now. "You, don't belong in there, you are no son of mine...." He feels his body get pushed into the wall as he dad casts him aside, he sputters blood with each laugh - he can't stop them just keep coming. Even as his father goes the laughter still comes. chapter three , Dante wonders if the teachers hate hm as much as his father seems to. No one around him as any idea that he is a Panos, because he isn't, not in name. Stefan and Luca have no trouble reminding him that he is not their real brother, that he can never be their real brother. And Dante takes it. It starts slow, a few fights here and there, misgueded words and a swing or two. But as the years go on it gets worse, he spends more time in dention then he does in class. His grades are barely acceptable but enough so that he can move on with each passing year. He doesn't want to spend a minute longer in that school then he has to. No he has more imporant things in life to come. ' fourth scar , LEFT FOOT, AGE 15. Dante has acquired a nervous twitch. The boy is only confident with adrenaline coursing through his system, and he only has adrenaline when he's making people mad and getting hit. Otherwise he's a neglected little wreck. So he goes out of his way to find trouble, and when he can't find trouble he does the next best thing? He adds a scar to his collection. One day he's so such a wreck that he's shaking. He doesn't have anxiety order, or maybe he does. To him its more of an itch, one that he needs to scratch. Scratch until it bleeds. At school he could just easily pick a fight. Five years he had been doing that. He's learned how to say exactly the wrong words, how to crawl under other's skin and scratch at their nerves until they just - snap. Stefan and Luca were always happy to to supply him with beatings before their years at Beauxbatons ended. But now he was alone, even in the summer the two half-brothers who he could always count on to leave the taste of copper in his mouth were off with his father carrying on like true Panos men. But word that Stefan has return home circles the estate. Its an opportunity that Dante cannot pass up, just the scratch he needs for his itch. He finds his older half-brother in the large estate standing by the ordinate fireplace chatting with his bride-to-be, a wide smile creeps onto Dante's face. He can feel his body twitching as the adrenaline starts to pump with his anticipation. He blabbers on to the older man about his studies and grades, about how great of a student he has become. He can see the annoyance that starts to radiate off Stefan but its not enough for Dante, he wants to see Stefan's temper ignite - just like Dad's. So he says the one thing he knows will poke the every nerve he sought. "Dad said if I do well enough with my classes and training he'll let me join up with you and Luca when I finish school - that I'll be a proper Panos again and we'll all hunt toge-" His words are cut off by the sound of bones cracking as the sharp iron of a fire prod penetrates his foot. Stefan bears his weight on the prod pressing it deeper in Dante's foot. The pain is excruciating, pierced skin, crushed bone, hot blood pouring from the wounds. His brother twists the prod with narrowed eyes and clenched jaw. "You will never be a Panos, Dante." Its like a wave of bliss rushes over him when the iron is pulled from his flesh his own blood dotting his face. He doesn't cry though, as always Dante just smiles as he watched Stefan walk away after tossing the iron prod to the marble floor with a clatter. chapter four , Cressida was never mean to be his. She was three years his senior and promised to Luca, but not even an engagement could stop him. How he begged her to come with him, to go to England and be with him. He filled her head with promises he was sure he could keep but some how she still slipped through his fingers. No matter how many nights she had spent in his arms or how many whispers of love in the shadows had been shared she stood by Luca and Dante left to England. A Scavio would never accept a Panos in their ranks, it was why he was the only one of Angelo's sons to be fit for the task of infatuating the clan and bringing about its end from the inside. A heavy task for a seventeen-year-old. His father supplied him with the funds to set up a shop of his choosing, he would be supporting himself until his mission was complete. It takes six months to step up his tattoo parlor, Inferno Tattoo, hardly the sort of shop his father had in mind when he graced him with the funds but what else was something like Dante to do? He never was known for being the brightest in school and he lacked the ability to interact with most others with out starting a fight. By age eighteen the shop has started to provide a steady flow of cash, but so have the Scavios. Funny how no one suspected a Carpethos could be something more. But this was how he would prove his worth, how he would show his fathers and brothers that he was just as much a Panos as they were, that he was the killer not the prey and he would watch the Scavio's fall. ' fifth scar , RIGHT SIDE OF NECK, AGE 20. He is twenty now and generally has an indifference to everyone. He doesn't love, because that is too strong of an emotion, and he doesn't hate because that's an even more passionate emotion than love. Indifference is the best form of cruelty. It delivers the harshest pain to any human being. He likes pain. It'd been two years since he had sen his brothers - but its brother now. His face freshly bruised as he stumbles into the Panos' home, two years since he has stepped foot in this place, he guesses that's what happens when they send you away. Sent off to do the Panos' dirty work with the promise of redemption. But Stefan wasn't going to have it. He licks the blood from his lips and his brow with his wrist as he looks around the hall. "LUCA, STEFAN IS DEAD." His words echo against the marble and resonate in his head. Flashes of the struggle, the glint of knives in the moonlight, screams of pain as bones were crushed - its almost funny to think that's how it ended, the heir's reign cut short by that of a Carpethos bastard. He never thought that one day he would be the one to give his brother a beating he could never forget. Or could the dead forget? Its what Stefan had coming though when he came to make an attempt on Dante's life, but he wasn't the same kid who just laid there to take his brother's beatings, so funny how prey that fights back is so much harder to kill. He watches as the broad figure of Luca steps into the the hall, the Panos house was plagued with two mad bulls now, a spitting image of Angelo. Dante can feel his body start to shake as his body rushes he knows what is coming as he catches the way his brother's jaw tightens and his eyes burn - oh how they burn. The world goes red as words fall on deaf ears, but there are no words from Dante just mad laughter as his brother's hand grabs at his shirt and his fist cracks against his jaw. He finds himself tossed to the cold floor. His heart racing as he pushes himself up to his knees ready to go back for more but his eyes fall upon the small child, blue eyes and dark hair - it makes his heart stop, those are not the eyes of a Panos - those are his eyes. "Daddy-" He feels the kiss of a blade to his neck, he falls back to the floor his hand pressing to his neck as he curls up. He didn't come here to die. His adrenaline is bursting, he feels alive, he got what he came for. He feels like he's home. "Get out of my sight Dante...." He can feel the smile creeping on his lips, Luca sounds so much like Dad these days, he cuts like him too. The blood gushes under his fingers as he climbs back to his feet, his head rushes as he stands and his eyes fix on the beautiful little girl with bright blue eyes. His eyes. Those are his eyes. "Get back to bed Apollin! And you get. out. of. my. sight." So he staggers off into the depths of the house and waits for his red world to fade to black. chapter five , Time after time he asked Cressida if Apollin was his and time after time she gave him the same answer, she was Luca's and she would always be Luca's. He wanted to believe the woman who years before he had thought he loved but those eyes, his eyes, how the haunted him. The timing could have been right, the child was barely four conceived just after Cressida union to Luca, but Cressida said she would not hear such talk and swore it off as impossible, how could Dante blame her though? Who wanted to have a bastard's bastard? Though he struggled to push the blue eyed child from his mind Dante knew he had a task to accomplish, it was why they had sent him to England in the first place. His father's plans had been simple enough, send messages murder and maim those who mattered most. But when Dante found himself looking into the eyes of the young Scavio child he found a simple plan could be far more complicated than it seemed. Dante wasn't sure if it was luck or a curse when the head of the Scavio's stepped down and named Kayden his successor. A boy of eighteen who had so few years of experience was surely an easier target to break than a man. But Kayden was not the one who Dante had been sent to kill. So Dante waited, just as he had before, waited for the prefect opportunity to present itself. Only then would he make his strike to bring down Kayden Scavio and the rest of his family. ' sixth scar , the scar to come UPPER LEFT INNER THIGH, AGE 25. Karma sometimes bites you, but it annihilated Dante when word got to Angelo that Kayden Scavio had become head of the Sherwood and Scavio families, an eighteen year old brat that should have been an easier target than the boy's uncle and yet for some reason the boy was still walking around. Suddenly all hell breaks loose. Dante is happy though, he feels comfortable in hell. One morning, on the way to the parlor, a couple of men intercept him. The men, obviously associated with the Panos family, produces their wands and before his world turns red before he can feel his blood rush through his body with anticipation for their fight his world goes black. One black eye and a broken arm later and Dante finds himself at his father's home, locked in the basement that smells of blood. Dante wonders how many fights have taken place since the only one he ever saw. He wonders if he'll die here, just like the mutts, ripped apart limb from limb. He once was smiling at his old friend pain, but today he finds himself met with panic as his dad enters, his figure still broad and ominous. "Do you know why you are here today Dante?" Angelo's voice is a false sense of calm, and it makes Dante's heart race. He's smart enough to hold his tongue and foolish enough to not answer. He catches the glint of silver in the light before he feels it in his thigh. He can feel his father twisting the the blade tearing muscle and ripping skin as it is buried deeper into his flesh. He can only hope his father was merciful enough to avoid his artery. He barely hears his father's words as he is lectured on his failure. Seven years he had to bring down the Scavio's and when he is presented with a younger, less experienced target he still fails. Dante can't think about his failure though, his thoughts are only on the metal in his leg and what will happen when his father pulls it out. He can already feel the blood soaking his trousers. "You're nothing more than a worthless Carpethos." He feels the pressure vanish as the blade tears out of his skin, followed with a rushing sensation. Dante is bleeding out right in front of his father and suddenly he sinks to the ground from his chair because he's weak and he's coming dangerously close to losing consciousness. "What's the matter, Dante? I thought you like pain." Dante laughs too loud, too nervously, and his father chuckles before calling in the healer. "I almost forgot, happy birthday Dante." His scars are slowly fading and he's growing restless and he knows it's time to get serious, time to do what was asked of him. To earn his name as a Panos, to be all that he was born to be, a birthright stolen from him. To bring an end to the Sherwood and Scavio reign and watch the Panos empire rise. Let's us all just be friend, And together we can start a new trend. ALIAS: Bonzi AGE: 27 DISCOVERY: Paige ♥ and I basically live here CHARACTERS: ALEKSI NIKITA IVANKOV, ALTAIR MAE POYNTER, AMERY CATHAL CAMBELL, AMITY CATHLEEN PARRIS, ANTOINE MARQUEZ LETOURNEAU, APOLLO JAMES BORDEN, AUBREY CAMILLA SCIARRA, AUGUSTINE VENIA IFINOH, AXEL TOBIAS MEAGHER, BAILEY IVO MCCONNELL, BEATRICE ADELAIDE DURSLEY, BRYONY CATE BUCHANAN, CASPIAN DMITRI CROSSHEART, DANTE APOSTOLOS CARPETHOS, ELEANOR CORDELIA WORRALL, EMILLA PÄIVÄ AALTO, EVIN MIKHAIL GREKOV, GERONE CARLOTTA CARPETHOS, GIDGET ANABEL HALE, ICARUS ALAWN LLEWELLYN, IMOGEN NIAMH MERRITT, IRINKA AKSINYA XANTHOPOULOS, ISAAC RYDER MCAVOY-GREYBACK, JACOB SAMUEL BLENKINSOP, JACQUELINE AURORA TALBOTT, LACHLAN WALLACE MONTGOMERY, LENNOX ELASIS BRYNJAR WILKOŁAK, NATHANAEL ANTOINE CLEMENCE, NYX DIONE MOON, OROCHI TACHIBANA, PASCAL ARISTIDE BORGIA, PAXTON POLARIS PRESCOTT, PHINEAS AJAX PAKARINEN, ROBERT SHAY WAGTAIL-HOLDEN, TAWNEE RAE ADDAMS, TIBERIUS DEAN THREASHER, YŪKI SATŌ NOTES: made by paige

[ADMIN PAIGE]

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