Dean Thomas (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} lostart) wrote,@ 2009-08-11 19:25:00 |
 |
|||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
sin sangre en mi cuerpo
era amor de suenos
IN CHARACTER FULL NAME: Samuel Dean Thomas DATE OF BIRTH: May 5, 1980 FORMER HOUSE & YEARS ATTENDED: Gryffindor, Autumn 1991- Spring 1997 OCCUPATION: Training to be an Art Therapist, currently a Resident Healer at St. Mungo's CURRENT LOCATION/RESIDENCE: Dean lives in a flat on Baker Street in London, near St. Mungo's. It's a small, two bedroom that he shares with his best friend and brother Seamus Finnigan. AFFILIATION/BELIEFS: As a former member of Dumbledore's Army, Dean's already made his allegiances known and they haven't changed. He remains close to his friends and loyal to their beliefs. PERSONAL HISTORY: Dean has three younger sisters, Lena, Marie and Sarah, and a brother, Micah. Micah was the surprise in the Thomas household and the absolute last of the Thomas children, or so swears Dean's mother, a dark haired, brown eyed seamstress from East London. Mr. Thomas is a brown haired, brown eyed banker from London as well. Both of his parents are Hispanic, though his mother is a Puerto Rican of African descent. Her parents moved to England as teenagers. Anthony Thomas lived in Puerto Rico until he was eighteen and moved to London to attend university. It was around six that Dean realized that he wasn't mostly Puerto Rican. His mother and father always talked about their Puerto Rican roots and Dean never questioned or understood it to mean anything other than his family. Grade school brought questions, though, and the start of the realization that perhaps his father really wasn't his father at all. Well, it was the start of the realization. He was hurt by a playground comment, but he could have brushed it off with some reassurance from his mother. He fully expected to come home and have her tell him that the other child was stupid, that he was welcome and wanted and that the child obviously didn't know much about ethnicity. Dean was expecting all of this, and though he received it, it was the look on his mother's face that kept the doubt flitting about in his mind. She was lying to him. She was speaking the words he wanted to hear, but her eyes told Dean that his mother was lying. She never mentioned the incident on the playground, but the seed was planted and Dean never quite looked at his parents the same again. Of course, they were still his parents. He loved them both and that hadn't changed, but he began to wonder about his father. Neither of his parents had blue eyes, yet he did - and where all his younger siblings had silky, loose black curls, Dean's curled tightly to his head. Black hair... just like his classmate had said. Looking to his mother, Dean gave pause and with the dawning realization of a child, Dean understood that his mother - even though her parents had hailed from Puerto Rico,even though she was proud of this Puerto Rican heritage - was black. His mother was black and Dean was black. His siblings were black, in a way, but because of their light skin, it was Dean who bore the brunt of the taunts because, of all of them, that had inherited the depth of it. He stared in the mirror for an hour that night. He'd always assumed his darker skin had come from his mother's family, even if he'd never met them. Even Marie, the darkest of his little sisters wasn't nearly as dark as Dean in the summers, much to her chagrin. His sisters often lamented that Dean's easy tan and long lashes were utterly wasted on a boy - but his kinky hair? His blue eyes? Dean pushed it aside. It was obviously some latent gene he didn't need dwell on and despite their differences, Dean chalked his family up to a menagerie of ethnicities and cultures, from his mother's mixed heritage to his father's Puerto Rican background. Still, it was always hard to place himself so easily when they were amongst his other family. They'd visited his father's Puerto Rican family one summer when he was eight and blue-eyed Dean had stood out among his aunts, uncles and cousins. Dean got his letter at the normal age - well, normal if one knew they were a wizard. Dean's mother passed it off as a practical joke when the first letter arrived, laughing and telling Dean what an imagination he head. Dean had shown artistic tendencies since he could hold a crayon, but a wizard school? She put the over-imaginative letter on the fridge and brushed it off. The second one and the man that came with it wasn't so easily brushed off and while Dean didn't understand how his mother could accept this news so easily, he had to admit he was a bit excited. Wizard school? The liaison from the school helped the Thomases get Dean prepared, but the notion that it was all real didn't set in until Dean was sitting under the candles of the Great Hall. Listening to Seamus Finnigan chat his ear off about Quidditch, Dean leaned over and smiled at his new friends, included the red-headed twins sitting across from him. Hogwarts was so far excellent. Dean liked all his housemates. He was more amused than anything over Ron's prodding him about West Ham and footie and Hermione was an alright girl. He was impressed by how bright she was when she charmed the poster for Harry's first Quidditch match to change colours. Dean quickly came to enjoy Quidditch and begged Seamus to teach him once he learned to properly handle a broom. He got on with Seamus the best out of everyone. Dean thought his never having a brother might have been the reason behind it - well, he had a brother, but Micah was only two and not much for playing footie yet and the girls only wanted to play with Dean when he'd draw them pictures or give in and play tea with them, or worse, dolls. Seamus was an instant mate. They were just enough alike and not-alike that there was plenty to talk about. Where Dean had many siblings, Seamus had none and where Seamus knew the ends and outs of Quidditch, Dean was able to school him in footie. Dean was never quite sure when he realised that his dad wasn't really his dad, but he reckoned it came sometime around fifteen, during a break. He just... didn't look like his dad, not like his brother and sisters did. He looked like his mum, except for his eyes and his nose. He broached it once, but his mum brushed it off, and without a need to deal with the subject, Dean let it lie. By sixteen, Dean was asking more questions and by seventeen it couldn't wait any longer. Dumbledore was dead and the summer ahead looked bleak. Dean was writing Seamus all the time, getting snippets from the Wizarding world, trying to stay abreast of the chaos. And just before August, his mother sat him down and told him the truth. His dad was a white Brit named Samuel Collins, with blond hair and bright blue eyes, just like Dean's, and he'd left them both just before Dean turned one. His dad was white, his mum was black and Puerto Rican and his younger siblings didn't have blue eyes because they didn't have the same dad as Dean... and worst of all, though his mum had a guess, though the very notion made so many questions she had had about Dean's biological father suddenly make sense, she had no proof, none at all, that Samuel Collins was a Wizard. Given the situation unfolding before him, given the fact that he had younger brother who was only nine, given the fact that he had a family full of Muggles ready for the Dark Lord to hurt, Dean went on the run. He didn't stop running for years. He didn't stop even after he had to stop sending the coded, round about owls to Seamus, even after he caught up with Harry, Ron and Hermione, eventually Luna there at Malfoy Manor, even after that hug with Seamus in the Room of Requirement (and God, hadn't that hug felt great? He'd never thought he'd see any of them again and hadn't got his hopes up.) When the dust had settled around Hogwarts that morning, he remembered sitting with Seamus, watching the last of the sunrise and wondering if the knot in his chest would ever go away. He ran for a year after that, moved about and studied art. He got his first tattoo in Japan, a poem written by an old Shinto priest that ran in four vertical lines down the side of his left ribcage. He never told anyone what it means, not even Seamus, but then again, he supposed he had quite a few secrets from his time abroad. He wrote home often though, sending owls to his family and friends when he could. He wrote Seamus often, and his Mum and siblings, too. He wrote his father with his mum, but their relationship had been a little tense since Dean had found out the truth. Dean spent a little time in China and Thailand, a week in Cambodia. He backpacked through New Zealand and learned to snorkel. In Brazil he learned the samba and in Mexico he picked up a great recipe for chile rellenos. And then he came home. He wasn't sure why he didn't feel the need to run anymore, but somewhere between South America and the trip up to Mexico, Dean felt the need to go home. He missed his Mum's spaghetti and Lena's long stories - hell, he hadn't see Micah in over a year - he was nearly eleven! Maybe it was that thought, the idea of seeing his brother and getting to know him before he lost the window for it. And that's how Dean ended up back in London. His mum was pleased and insisted on feeding him until he felt as if he couldn't possibly stand from being so full and it was then, full and stuffed, that Dean rambled over to see Seamus. Several pints and many laughs later, Dean had almost forgotten why he ran... but despite the warm feeling in the depth of his chest, Dean couldn't quite forget the fear that had pushed him to run. Sometimes, late at night, it sneaks upon him, wraps its arms around him and presses him to the bed. He fights and struggles, but it won't let go, not until Dean is tangled in sheets and a cold sweat and then it wakes him, splashes cold water over his face and reminds him that his world is fleeting, as fleeting as each tiny breath that pitches forth from his body. Come day light again Dean focuses on "The Real World" and the knowledge that it was time for him to stop running, to settle down, find a job and make a home - grow up. He'd done a lot of thinking in his travels, debating on what to do when the inevitable came about - the real world and a real job, settling down and a life. He and Seamus joked about it, but Dean knew it would come about sooner or later. He couldn't run forever. A healer in Brazil had encouraged him to pursue his art and he'd studied with him for a while, discussed theories and artists and healing with art. He recommended Dean to a colleague in London. Dean enrolled in the Art Therapy Healers' program at the Wizarding University of London and graduated in the summer of 2002. He had been living on and off with his family for a bit before moving in with the eldest of his younger sisters, Lena. Dean reckoned it was one of the worse decisions he'd made. Of course he loved his sister, but God, the lack of privacy nearly killed him. Needless to say, it was with open arms that Dean moved in with Seamus after he broke up with Whatsherface (yes, Dean knew her name, but she was forever Whatsherface after breaking up with his mate like that.) They committed themselves to utter debauchery from day one, vowing never to let a woman between them and never a beer go unfinished. They share their small, two bedroom flat on Baker Street and Dean doesn't mind the short walk to work. Looking back, Dean often wonders if the running was meant to hold him off while things lined up - it'd make sense, he thinks. Things seem rather perfect for Dean, even if Dean, of all people, knows how big of a pile of rubbish the idea of perfect is... the more things fall in place, the more Dean gets ready for the other foot to drop. Hell, his life was perfect before he found out about his dad. Heaven only knows that the moment he gets it all lined up just so, it will all go tumbling down again. For now, Dean waits. He knows the chill of nightmares still lurks in the shadows, but he saves them for sleep, tucks them away from his friends, lets them lie dormant while he works with patients, catches up with his mates, has dinner with his mum... but when he closes his eyes, they catch him. He sees the eyes of his blue-eyed father, the one he is too scared to look up. He sees the eyes of his family, ripped from him and screaming. He sees the Death Eaters closing in, stealing away the other refugees in the dark. He wakes up to a cool chill each morning and tucks his nightmares away for the next night. Despite his still, settled life, Dean has come to realize that he never stopped running. Now Dean runs at night. APPEARANCE: Dean is a tall boy with brown skin and hair and bright blue eyes. He tans easily, though in the winter has the ability to get rather light. His brother likes to tease that it is time to put Dean in the toaster again come mid-March. (Dean doesn't mind the teasing. Micah's a pale arsed bastard anyway.) His hair curls tightly when he doesn't wear it closely shaved, and he has a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He has always been rather tall for his age and stands about 6'4". He's muscular from years spent play Quidditch, soccer and working the odd manual labor job during the summer. PLAYED BY: Jesse Williams PERSONALITY: Dean is an artistic, right brained sort. He fancies good music and a nice book over a night out, but he always makes an exception for his friends. He might not be the loudest person at the table, but he's always ready with a bright smile for those he cares about. If the table is made up of his closest friends, you'll find him a vibrant, active part of the conversation. If it is a group of people he doesn't know well, Dean will shy away and analyze the situation carefully before jumping in. Dean learned long ago (namely in the classroom with Firenze, about the virtues of listening first and speaking up second.) Dean is also an excellent listener, which helps immensely in his job. He works well with others in an educational environment, especially children. His empathy and listening skills help him communicate with those who might not be the best communicators. Dean enjoys the company of just about anyone who can hold a decent conversation and he'd rather someone admit they don't know something about a subject than try to pretend they do. He hates insincerity above all else. He's an affable sort, willing to give the benefit of the doubt to anyone at least once, but be wary if you cross him. Dean's open to doling out forgiveness, it just depends on the crime. Criticize his family or friends and you are likely to find yourself on the bad end of a cross Dean. Dean is very passionate about his art, but wary of showing it to many. He considers his personal work very private and only shows it to a rare few, like Seamus and Marie. Dean is honest, sometimes brutally - though, no matter what, he takes care to word any advice as kindly and compassionately as possible. Just because it's the painful truth doesn't mean Dean can't serve it with a little sugar. Dean lets out most of his aggression through art and he tends to bottle up his emotions more on days where he hasn't gotten an opportunity to get creative - this is especially why he loves his job. He enjoys getting to spend the day not only helping others but by being creative and learning himself. He honestly think his jobs is a win-win situation. Sure, he's making money, but he enjoys his work and the people he helps. Had he not pursued Art Therapy, he would have likely become a teacher. GREATEST STRENGTH: Dean's greatest strength is his empathy. He's always been very in tune with people's emotions, most especially his sisters. This could come from being raised in a house of girls. GREATEST WEAKNESS: On the same note, Dean is probable least attuned to his own emotions out of everyone. He tends to hide from them, stifle them away, bottling them until he explodes. MIRROR OF ERISED: Now that Dean knows more about his family, he would probably see his father. He'd assure you that he knows good and well that his father is dead, but he just wants to know what the bugger looks like. Are his freckles a family thing? Did his dad even have freckles? TRIVIA: • Dean is probably the most open with Seamus, followed closely by his middle sister Marie. Marie is the only of his siblings to know the truth about his real father. • Dean developed a large crush on Padma Patil around his fourth year. • Dean has more than one tattoo, but five quid if you can actually find them. Most are beneath his clothes, hidden carefully with magic if he's ever shirtless in front of his Mum. He also has plans for several more. • Since his return home, Dean and Micah have developed a very special bond. It involves quite a few pranks and more than a few rough and tumbles...namely Micah is a spoiled bitch who needs a little roughhousing. • Dean is currently a Junior Healer, finishing up his Residency. He works as an Art Therapy Healer with some of the more physically injured and long term patients at St. Mungo's. EXPERIENCE: A) I've never played Dean before, so I will share some of my favorite memories of playing Oliver Wood: Exhibit A: in which Oliver Wood schools his mates on the AWESOME that is Freddie Mercury. / Exhibit B: in which Oliver discovers that his temporary flat mate, Miss Alicia Spinnet, has left a bra in his shower.</font> |
