Three On A Match
-- : Third on a match. Meaning: bad luck.

Full Name
Gwilym Twm Carter
24 years old
Upstanding Citizen
Played By
33 (1.84 posts per day | 0.26 percent of total posts)
1 (0.06 threads per day | 0.13 percent of total threads)
Tylwyth Teg Half-Blood

Player Information
About Me
I live in Canada with my husband and we both work full-time. Our children are furry canines. We have only one at the moment as her mate recently passed from old age. I love writing and enjoy exploring plots and characters and the like. :)
Mature Content & Comfort Levels
I am comfortable with intimacy, be it light cuddles, fade to black or more involved. If you have an idea, please ask and I'll let you know where it lands on my comfort scale.
Player Information
Mature Content & Comfort Levels
I am comfortable with intimacy, be it light cuddles, fade to black or more involved. If you have an idea, please ask and I'll let you know where it lands on my comfort scale.
The Basics
Preferred Name
Date of Birth:
May 1st
Contract Hunter
Work Location
Street, Borough
24 years old
Eye Color
Hair Color
Light brown/Dark blonde
Face Claim
Ed Speleers

Strike & Cinder

Cheeky | Charming | Determined | Loyal | Boy Scout | Professional | Intense | Reckless | Privately Lost | Defensive ⌘Wil isn't an easy person to know. He appears confident and can be very charming and witty, and he certainly has his intentions in the right place, but how does he really feel about... damn near everything? He isn't prone to lying, unless he is in a jam and the situation calls for it and even then, it might be a version of the truth. He will allow a certain level of trust when it comes to his inner workings, but not often and only if he's either known you long enough or is experiencing circumstances that don't give him much choice. He can be considered a gentleman, such as when he helps someone exit the bus with their groceries. He can be considered cheeky and charming when he flirts. He possesses a decent sense of humour, even it it is a bit dry, like a martini, and black, like some of the British comedies. He is loyal to his cause and has a moral compass when it comes to who is truly a danger and not just 'different'. He considers himself fair, intelligent, good at his job and a quick learner. He wouldn't let a friend or co-worker hang and though he'd probably speak up, he wouldn't go against a direct order. Mostly. He comes by the nick-name 'boy scout' naturally. Sometimes he takes chances he possibly shouldn't when it comes to the hunt, but he weighs the alternatives and usually goes with his first instinct. Some would call this reckless behaviour, others would call it a death wish or just plain stupidity. He could also be considered brave... or insane. Maybe he doesn't know himself. If you need help, he'll be there, unless he's recently had a very bad hunt. On those occasions, he might have holed up and disappeared into a bottle for a while. It is how he deals with the aftermath of the really bad ones, the ones where he feels he didn't do enough, wasn't fast enough, and/or he's used too much energy, energy he doesn't really understand, and has difficulty recovering from the physical and mental pain. This would be the cost, the Bloodrush, which he doesn't understand. Emotionally, he is vulnerable, but he doesn't like thinking about it or talking about it. He drinks when he's just plain troubled, too, so there is that. He's a bit lost, like that small, blue creature in the Disney movie, set in Hawai'i. Understanding what he is and why and who he could become would help him get on track. Maybe. Finding anyone willing to put up with his stubbornness, his witty/sarcastic defense shield and grief is another matter entirely.

⌘Though frequently not the tallest man on the bus and not particularly striking, Wil has fair skin, without any visible blemishes, a winning smile and he presents as a human who keeps himself clean and well-groomed. His posture indicates a healthy spine, a fit body and a confidence. He appears to be comfortable in his own skin and has the lean, athletic build of a runner. There probably is an inch of fat on him somewhere, but good luck finding it. 'Fit and trim' might be a description. 'Cute' could be another. Also, dimples. He has a double set on both sides of his smile, which includes white, even teeth that, as they used to say in the Good Ol’ Days, are all his own. He has no cavities or other dental work. Wil usually wears his dark blonde/ light brown hair parted to one side and short, as it tends to curl when it gets too long. Nothing else about him is particularly distinctive from the rest of the passengers on the bus, except for his eyes. He was born with congenital heterochromia: the iris of the left eye is blue and the iris of the right eye is hazel. Fortunately, this is not a symptom of any serious health conditions. Sometimes he wears a brown contact lens to tone the left eye down, because he doesn't want to deal with the curious. He doesn't always bother. He owns good quality sunglasses for those painfully bright days or when he feels he’d rather not be the centre of any curious stares or polite – or impolite - questions. He tends to wear casual, practical clothes in muted shades. If a line of clothing was developed to match his colours, the names might include: forest green, lake blue, bark brown, night black, woolly white, blue pine, secluded beach, white sand, clay red. It is as if he wants to subconsciously blend into the background… which he probably does. His wardrobe includes items made of natural fibres, unless that is unavoidable for the point of practicality: one pair of blue jeans, one pair of black jeans, a worn brown, leather jacket, a wool coat, pro running shoes, serious hiking boots, three short-sleeved tees, two long-sleeved dress shirts in white, a pair of formal trousers in dark grey, a single-breasted jacket to match, one gray tie, three sweaters that fit his body properly (nothing baggy). He has a baseball cap with no markings which he sometimes wears and snug leather gloves for when he's using a gun. He is frequently seen with a black backpack. The contents of this backpack are another topic.
Maker's Mark
⌘His great-grandmother had beautiful wings, eyes the brightest blue and such fair, unblemished skin that in the moonlight, she practically shone. Wil doesn't have wings, vestigial or otherwise, but his fair skin does burn easily if he isn't careful. ⌘His eyes, however, though diagnosed as heterochromia, are actually a genetic remnant of his great-grandmother. His grandmother and mother had a version of the same condition, but Wil's is more intense. Still, every human has unique eyes at a genetic level, or so science tells us, even though they can look very similar to those of other members of their family. The iris of Wil's left eye is the exact, same blue as his Fae ancestor. Sometimes he wears his sunglasses indoors. Sometimes he wears a brown contact lens so he doesn't have to deal with stares or questions. Sometimes he doesn't bother. On those days, if you have knowledge of the Other or are familiar with the Fae in particular, you might wonder. Or not.
Animal Appearance

Other Information
Miscellaneous: ⌘He doesn't know he is a half-blood of anything, never mind a member of the Fae. ⌘He is fully conversant in English. His native accent is that of London. ⌘His Welsh is a bit rusty, but it is all there, though he cannot write it and reading takes a moment. ⌘He learned French primarily because his girl friends liked hearing him speak it. ⌘He knows a few words and phrases in Italian for the same reason. ⌘He enjoys Football and is a supporter of the Tottenham Hotspur F.C., but he isn't rabid. ⌘He can modify his accent a bit to sound particularly posh or born within the Bells. ⌘He enjoys hiking, especially in the mountains. ⌘He loves to run and tries to do so everyday. He has also completed several marathons. ⌘He probably drinks too much alcohol, though it takes a bit extra to get him truly three sheets to the wind. ⌘When it comes to food, he has an affinity for mushrooms, which he finds delicious, and dairy, including goat cheese. He only uses butter, because margarine is an abomination. ⌘He loves sweet treats and might be addicted to Cherry Coca-Cola, any Rubicon or Ben Shaw beverages, and Banoffee pie, Sticky Toffee pudding and Bara Brith (Welsh tea bread). ⌘Family History: Wil's great-grandfather, Dafydd Llewellyn, was Welsh, as the surname likely reveals without much explanation, and his great-grandmother was... not. Well, she was Welsh, but as a Tylwyth Teg or member of the 'fair family', not as a human. Dafydd worked on his parent's farm, raising sheep for wool and a few goats for cheese and amusement. He was respected by the villagers, loved by his family and dedicated to his work. He was also kind, handsome and blonde. This particular branch of the Fae, who tended to live in caves or on mountains, enjoyed roaming the fields and forests at night and dancing in the light of the Mother Moon. According to the stories, they were generally considered benevolent, though it is not known if any human who met them actually recorded anything about such an encounter for fear that the Fae or themselves would be captured or killed. Possibly both.   Dafydd did not witness his future wife dancing by moonlight, but she had spotted him on several occasions at night while he tended his grazing flock. The fair hair was a beacon, but she had witnessed his care for and protection of his sheep and began to fall in love with him. Her name was Iolane and one night, concealed by a glamour to appear more human, she introduced herself to Dafydd. He thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. They would sit and talk through the night and after many such visits, Iolane told him her true nature. She released the glamour so he could see her wings and the Otherness about her. He understood and didn't care. It wasn't long after that and a few more long nights enjoying one another's company that they confessed their love for one another and soon decided they should marry. Though it wasn't unheard of for a human and a Fae to bond, it was still a rare event. Iolanthe maintained her glamour when others were around, but she also decided to shed her wings. Unlike some stories where the Fae wife is trapped in the relationship with a human and leaves as soon as she has finds her hidden wings, she and Dafydd were happy and though they hadn't been certain it was possible, they raised a family of three children, two of which had a subdued version of their mother's complexion and eyes. The third and youngest child was born with vestigial wings. Fortunately during this time in history, women in rural communities frequently gave birth at home, sometimes with the aid of a midwife or another woman from the village who had brought many of her own children into the world. The midwife who was to be present was unable to reach them due to a winter storm. Iolane and Dafydd agreed that the wings would have to be removed. He saw to it and though there were scars, they faded with time and their child never knew what they had lost. The two older children were told about their heritage when they started to experience their empathic abilities in their teenage years. Wil's Gran, Seren Llewellyn, was one of the children with the Fae traits. Though her eyes were deemed unusual, science intervened where a more superstitious time might have resulted in her death. She possessed the empathy of the Fae, like her brother, and it assisted her with trusting the shy young man who walked her to school and brought her wildflowers after church each Sunday in the spring and summer. His name was Aiden Davies and they married not long after graduation from the local school. They had two children, Gwendolyn and Brenna. Gwen took after her mother with the empathic ability, though it wasn't as strong as Seren's, and she was born with heterochromia: her left eye was blue and her right eye was brown. Brenna had a fair complexion, but no other physical traits or abilities ever exhibited themselves that would identify her as Other. Seren never told her husband about her mother's origins and she decided not to tell her children, either, unless she deemed it necessary. She felt it was too dangerous. Gwen was her mother's favourite, something she and Brenna never really understood, and when Brenna was old enough, she left and didn't look back. Though Gwen knew that Brenna felt she had to go, she would never forgive her mother for pushing her sister away. Still, she loved her mother and they remained close enough that when she married, Gwen kept Seren involved with her new family life. As for her empathy? She thought she was just really good with people. Gwendolyn and her husband, Hugh Carter, met in university and didn't marry until after they'd lived together for a few years, had both secured decent jobs in London and had nurtured some savings. Seren wasn't happy about them being so far away, but she wasn't going to interfere with her daughter's life unless she deemed it absolutely necessary and she visited often. ⌘Random Information from A Faerie Book of Hidden Knowledge: ⌘"A lengthened form of the term Tylwyth Teg is 'y tylwyth teg yn y coed', "the fair family in the wood," or 'tylwyth teg y mwn', "the fair family of the mine." They are also called Bendith y Mamau, "the Mother's Blessing," in Glamorgan. To name fairies by a harsh epithet is to invoke their anger while speaking of them in flattering phrase is to propitiate their good offices." ⌘"Goats were believed to on very good terms with the Tylwyth Teg, who every Friday night comb goats' beards to make them decent for Sunday."

⌘Gwilym Twm Carter or Wil for ease, was born in London, England on Calan Mai, May 1st, a day which traditionally heralds the arrival of summer in Wales. The celebration for such is less enthusiastic than it used to be a thousand years ago, but it was significant to his maternal grandmother, Seren Davies. She was influential in naming the baby and thus he was saddled with monikers which were unusual even for the Welsh, especially considering they were on the cusp of the 21st Century. His mother, Gwendolyn Davies, thought it was a lovely gesture to Wil's heritage and his father, a gentle and easy-going man originally from Cornwall named Hugh Carter, was content to let his wife name their son. Wil was their only child. It will be noted here that the Welsh branch of the Fae, the Tylwyth Teg, were apparently very fond of those blessed with fair hair, which is why human children with this feature were sometimes abducted. A changeling or crimbil would be left in their place. At first, this "change-child" or plentyn-newid would have the exact appearance of the stolen infant, but it would not flourish. Before long, it would become ill and eventually die. Not that anyone believed in that sort of thing anymore, of course. Wil's hair was a silver blonde as a child, though it darkened somewhat during his teenage years. Until his fifth birthday, his maternal grandmother set up protections in his room to ensure he wasn't switched for a changeling during the night, even though the family was living in London, not Wales, and it wasn’t the Dark Ages, for Pete's sake. Though tales of the Fae were originally told to children to keep them safe, to most everyone else remaining on his mother's side of the family, the Tylwyth Teg were just characters in stories you told your children so they didn't go dancing in the fields at night and bring mud into the house. Besides, people didn't really believe in such things back then, did they? It was all pretend, wasn't it? His Gran didn't explain that her actions were related to a... family matter. Being an only child, Wil was a bit spoiled when his parents could afford to be, but also a bit lonely. He didn't feel like he fit in very well at school and was periodically too sick to attend. With the support of his parents and the coaxing of his Gran, Wil ceased to have these phantom colds and sore throats by the age of nine. His eyes were certainly a conversation starter, but some of his classmates - and a few of his teachers - found it distracting and just a bit unsettling. Though he didn’t get sick anymore – if he was ever really sick to begin with - it didn't help that he tended to still keep mostly to himself. That changed with puberty and the American equivalent of high school. Initially quite a slight, quiet boy, he was one of the kids picked on by bullies. This led to Wil becoming increasingly good at running and he discovered he really enjoyed it. The running, not the bullying. Wil joined the track team. He'd always been a fan of Footie - Go, Tottenham Hotspurs! - but didn't really get into playing on a team until he was thirteen, rather late in life for an eager British boy. Around that time, he decided to learn how to defend himself and asked his parents if they'd pay for lessons in some form of martial arts. They weren't very keen on the idea, but they did set him up at a community youth gym where he took a liking to boxing, soon followed by the ‘anything goes’ school of fighting, also known as brawling, but with focus. He still didn't completely fit in there or at school, but bullies stopped picking on him. He even made a point of stepping in when they tried to pick on other students. With his confidence, and raging teenage hormones, came the slow growth of his inherited Fae abilities, abilities of which he had no knowledge. His parents were also still in the dark. Only his maternal grandmother, who had given him the names ‘Gwilym Twm’ understood what was really happening and she remained silent on the topic. By Year 11, he had mates, was doing well in school and felt more relaxed. Wil even flirted with the girls who didn't seem bothered by his eyes, thought he was cute and even handsome, some of them, and they really appreciated that he knew how to listen to them. Of course, when you’re kissing, eyes are usually closed so it wasn't really an issue. It helped that he was a good kisser, too. At the end of that year, he aced his GCSEs and wondered what would be next. Unfortunately, what came next was his Gran dying at the age of ninety-seven, and with her the secret of his unusual inheritance. His Grandad had passed away twenty years prior to her and Wil had never known him. In his seventeenth year, his world shattered completely when his parents were killed in an apparent home invasion while he was off at the movies with his mates. The shock was worsened when the police had a social worker join the investigation to share some disturbing news and in doing so, hoped to find out the identity of the perpetrators. His father's hands were broken and covered in blood from fighting them and he'd been strangled by someone who had left large, bruised hand marks on his neck, and his mother... His mother, too, had fought, but ultimately was defeated. Her skull had been crushed by an iron bar, which was then thrust into her chest with enough force to emerge out her back. Her eyes had been removed, possibly with the spoon left at the scene. The spoon was made out of iron. Her eyes were nowhere to be found. Wisely, the social worker and the police involved did not show Wil any of the photos from the scene. They did have to take him to identify the bodies, though. He nodded mutely to confirm and then threw up everything he’d eaten in the last 24 hours, eventually being carried by his arms to another room where he sagged to the floor and vomited some more while wailing and crying. Understandably, the horror of their deaths had been so profound that he'd screamed until they'd sedated him, but when he awoke in the hospital, no amount of medication was able to keep the knowledge of what had happened from sending him screaming again. For a while, it was screaming or out cold, then he was mostly too groggy to think or out cold and after a week or so of this, he was just... numb. The police had no leads and Wil had no idea why anyone would do this to his parents, especially since nothing really important was stolen. It was quickly decided that this had been much more than a simple home invasion. His family had been targeted. It was no real consolation that if he'd been home that night, he would have been killed, too. Many things happened after that. Wil was released with meds and regular check-ins for his health. He went to stay with his father's family in Cornwall for a while. His parent's estate was settled - thank God, there was a Will - and he opted to sell the relatively modest house in Harrow. It didn’t take long before multiple bids led to a sale for over a million Pounds Sterling, which wasn’t a bad outcome even after agent fees and taxes and lawyers and all that shite took their piece. The lawyers dealt with all that stuff, of course. The firm had known his family since before he was born. Wil eventually rented a studio flat in Lewisham. He resumed going to the gym, where he picked fights until he was exhausted, until his friends and teachers there realized he needed them to keep him busy. So they did. Months passed. He didn't continue with school, though he did keep in touch with the coach and some of his mates. His best girl at the time couldn't stop crying when she was with him and between the two of them, they killed enough tissue boxes to supply a pharmacy. It was cathartic, but exhausting and not really good to continue in the long term. He spent more time in his own company, which he hated, and so many of the days became a blur. Holidays came and went. Christmas was brutal. Once he was eighteen, Wil's visits to the local pubs shifted from grabbing a pot pie for dinner to a habit of drinking a bit too much. It killed the pain, for a little while, anyway, and it was cheaper than the drugs they'd prescribed. This habit stayed and though he's not in the same, dark place he was in then, he still turns to alcohol when it all becomes just too much. One night at an establishment less reputable than some, Wil was nursing a pint at the bar and playing Candy Crush on his mobile when he noticed three men at a far table were becoming loud and demanding more attention from the woman serving their section. One of them, a very large man, stood and grabbed the server’s arm. The manager approached them and asked them to pay their tab and leave. Instead, the remaining men also stood. The tension was palpable. Nearby patrons abandoned their tables. A fuse was lit. Wil drained his glass, stood, turned toward them and repeated the manager’s request for them to leave as he approached their area. They laughed, then the largest man, the one who had grabbed the woman’s arm, said with grin, "Going to be a Good Samaritan, eh, boy?" Then he stared at Wil, his expression going dark, and said, in a flat voice, “You have your mother’s eyes.” It was Wil's turn to stare as the realization settled on him: at least one of these men had been at his house that night, maybe even killed his parents, and there was something very odd about them, now that he was closer. He managed to utter, “What…?” just before the big man released the server and lunged at him. He wasn’t ready and took a beating before somehow managing to break distance long enough to punch the man in the head as hard as he could. He dropped like a stone. Wil’s right hand was screaming with pain, but still seemed to function when he flexed his fingers. The man was down, but not out, so Wil utilized his pugilistic training and made sure he wouldn’t be getting up again until the authorities arrived. The other two charged him, but fortunately one of the patrons intervened to assist, a woman who seemed to know exactly what she was doing. Between the two of them, all three were unconscious before the police arrived to clean up the mess and interview the manager, servers and all patrons. Wil was sweating, aching, exhausted, but elated and had no idea how he’d actually managed to dispatch the culprits, even with the help of – “Nice right hook,” the woman said, grabbing a stack of napkins from a nearly table and pressing it to the side of his head. He hadn’t even noticed he was bleeding. “Thanks,” he managed, and after giving her a charming smile, he passed out. He didn't understand this was the Bloodrush. Who were those three men? Why did they feel... 'off' and why did they kill his parents? He learned much later that they were enforcers of a sort and belonged to the ranks of the 'Other'. What kind of Other was never revealed to him and the reason for the murders was never discovered. The remaining details are nor terribly important, beyond some closure to the death of his parents two and a half years prior, free beer for life at that bar, and an introduction to an independent group led by the Penrose family who contracted people to hunt beings who were thought to be nothing but myth. The were hunted not because of what they were, but what they did. Obviously, when Wil arrives in Massachusetts, he is aware there are Others out there and for the last five odd – very odd – years, he has taken contracts to hunt those who prey on people who cannot fight to protect themselves and their families. The hunter he met in the bar is the only one he has ever met in person from that organization. All communications are done through various apps on his mobile. He usually works alone of in a team of two in rural, even remote, locations, mostly in the United Kingdom. He has come to America on the recommendation of his ‘handler’, for lack of a better designation, to start fresh, ditch his comfort zone and hone his skills by making a difference. Perhaps he'd look into the Exchange and see what it could be like working for a much large organization. He has arrived with a black backpack and a black duffle bag and between the two of them, they contain his life. When in the heat of a hunt or flight scenario, his nature takes over and influences his physical abilities in particular, but in those times, there's usually no one around to witness anything that might be deemed something an agent of a certain comic book organization might be capable of demonstrating. Wil doesn't notice. When things get hairy, he just thinks he becomes ‘focused’. He is good, but he is still young when it comes to hunting and has no formal training beyond what he learned at that distant gym and what he has picked up during his tenure as a contract hunter. The weapons he has utilized so far during his life include: pugilism, 'street fighting', knives, handguns, crossbow, and, of course, his mind.

Magic & The Metaphysical

Magic Keywords

Empathy, Heightened Strength

Mundane Keywords

Brawler I
Spells & Powers
⌘Mental -Empathy - He can read emotions by observing body language, and facial expressions. It is triggered by a desire to help someone or a need to survive during a difficult situation. He can manage this without physical contact, but the ability increases the closer he is to the person in question. If he is in physical contact, the emotions of the other person can become overwhelming. He tries not to touch people who are experiencing obvious trauma. There is no on or off switch, as he isn't aware that this ability is more than just good instincts and has no training to properly control it. It can leave him exhausted once an intense experience is over. A crowd can provide a rush of energy or cause a headache and be very draining. ⌘Physical -Heightened Strength - Usually Wil is perceived as being stronger than his size and build might suggest, but he is very fit and there is nothing that could be interpreted by the average person as inhuman. His right hook is noteworthy. If he pushes himself too much, he'll be tired and weak for a while. Ingesting sweet foods helps his recovery. It is a Fae thing.
Minor Magic Abilities
⌘Boon - He has an affinity for animals, especially livestock. This does include goats. He could communicate with them to a certain extent, anyway, if he knew that was a thing he could do. We are not talking a Dr. Doolittle level of discourse, but a general idea of what the animal wishes to communicate. They could understand him on a rudimentary level, if he knew what was possible. ⌘Cantrips - Wil is not aware of his active magic use, but he has the 'gift of the gab', as it were: the ability to provide inspiration, that extra push to motivate someone to complete a task or face that difficult problem with fresh eyes. This ability currently requires eye contact and/or physical contact. As a side note, Wil doesn't realize his efforts to help could be construed as or cross over into manipulation.
Other Magic Notes
⌘He has a mild aversion to iron, but is unaware of the reason. He wears snug, leather gloves when he uses a handgun, for a better grip. It is more comfortable, too. ⌘With training, he might be able to generate a simple glamour for himself and or a few companions, if he had any idea that was a thing he could do. ⌘With training, he could probably ride a horse with ease, because of his particular Fae heritage. He doesn't currently ride.



Wil Carter's Forum Info
Registration Date: 05-19-2023
Date of Birth: 05-01-1999 (24 years old)
Local Time: 06-06-2023 at 07:56 AM

Joined: 05-19-2023
Last Visit: Yesterday, 07:20 PM
Time Spent Online: 2 Days, 46 Minutes