look-at-that-perfect-gentleman-smile

littleburnerthings asked:

Lethal League for the game meme!

“Now, I’m no good at video games. Let me tell you that. But this, this is very important. I might lose, but you’d better let me play him.”

“Look at this dapper gentleman. Look at his vibrant suit jacket, his cane, his shoes, his hat, a work of art, I tell you! He’s perfect, and he always smiles – how could you not let that brighten your day? What a cheerful grin. I respect his zest and enthusiasm. His eyes look in all directions for new opportunities. He’s just brimming with optimism! I respect him.”

House: Slytherin
Year: Fifth
Age: Fifteen
Titles: Prefect
Club/Team: Quidditch Commentator
Blood Status: Unknown, believes he’s Pureblood
Loyalty: Death Eaters

Tristam Adams had been raised to become the perfect pureblood gentleman. The only problem? His blood status. As Tristam knows it, he’s a pureblood. His parents taught him to believe no different, for their sake or his own still up for debate. Unable to have children, the Adams had been desperate to find an heir so they looked towards Wool’s Orphanage. It was there they fell in love with Tristam, hair golden like his mother and the same lopsided smile as his father. Their world would never know the difference. In time, they told their son, assured him of his blood despite not knowing themselves. One test and they’d have their results but it was a question they weren’t yet willing to ask. An answer they feared.

Learning Tristam’s blood status was one of the only gambles the Adams weren’t willing to make. They were an extremely wealthy family, all thanks to old money and Mr. Adam’s “investments” in quidditch. Tristam had learned how to gamble from his father. First, it had been quidditch. Then it transferred over to poker and Hogwarts’ rat races. Eventually, Tristam had become notorious for making strange bets, taken to even wagering things other than galleons. Money had started to lose its meaning for him. He was at the point where he was so privileged that it held little value at all. Money had nothing to do with someone’s worth; it was just a means of having fun. And Tristam was all about having fun, within reason. With that wealth came status and responsibilities. Responsibility to not besmirch the Adams name. His mother had made him take etiquette classes as a kid, making sure he knew to say “yes” instead of “yeah” and which fork to use for which plate at dinner. She’d even encouraged him to try ballroom dance; though that was a memory he preferred to forget. After all, he’s got two left feet, entirely too clumsy for his own good.

It was his clumsiness, and his overall lack of skill with anything remotely related to athletics, that placed Tristam’s interest in quidditch on the sidelines rather than the pitch. Since his second year, Tristam has been a commentator at the matches, starting first as an assistant and finally moving into the leadership role at the end of his fourth year. But his ambitions for the sport expand far beyond Hogwarts and the mic. One day, Tristam aims to own his own line of brooms, starting with the Adams’ Winddragon. The name was all he had so far but it was a work in progress; his first step towards creating an empire. And being part of the Death Eaters was another on the road to success. These people were influential. The right relationship with them could mean success and the wrong meant failure. It was a big decision, joining wasn’t something you did on impulse, even if your parents insisted. After all that his parents had done for him and given him, Tristam knew that he owed them this. He’d never really stopped to think about what he believed but with the dark mark in his near future, now was his only chance to figure that out.

FC: Callan McAuliffe
Status: Open
Gif Hunts: X X X