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A man who usually only smiles when the work calls for it, hes heard many call him a melenchoic man. Hes not sad or depressed, he just doesn't find much use for smiling. He does a good job at the Casino,he seems so dedicated that, no one would even think he was placed there through the government. He's done everthing he can, to ensure both himself and his siblings can't be hurt from the backlash of his own secrets being found out,.

To really get to know Demetrio it is necessary to look at all aspects of him, not just what is seen on the outside in one situation only. Demetrio or Deme to his friends is a very strong willed man He might not show it, but he cares for many things. For the family he doesn’t know and probably won’t get a chance to find now that he’s chosen to go under cover.

This caring side can lead to a gullible one. He easily falls for the scams of starving children, often donating what he can to the children on the streets, never knowing if they really are starving or just working for a greedy person. He might also be found visiting one of the many cult shops of the city, trying to find out through supernatural means and indulging his interest in this subject. His bedroom has a variety of items from home and from around London, with a few occult items here and there.

Demetrio is very prideful as well. He has always done the best he could in his jobs, even if he had to have it on his record that he couldn’t take the training to work as an agent. Though it helps him to know that while other people will see this, his boss and he will know the truth, which he’s an excellent agent who can get the job done without giving the game away.

He can also be very argumentative and quite nasty when angry or when in a bad mood. He can be easy to set off sometimes, especially if someone knows the right buttons. Pulling his pony tail is definitely one of them. Though, sometimes, the people he argues with the most are the ones he actually cares about; though he'll deny this and possibly get violent as a result. Though his doesn't mean he can't be sweet. Put him around children or someone that is hurt and needs help and he can be very kind. His friends often times see this side to him more than anyone else.

Don't be surprised or worried if Demetrio doesn't seem to smile much. He really does show that the stereotype of the Portuguese being melancholic, slightly depressed people. He always seems deep in thought. He’s more of a realist of how things are. There is no point in pretending he’s basically selling himself, why should he smile and pretend that things are fine. Yes it’s a job and he can get into the music and done, but he’s become hardened to the line of work. It’s easy to paint a smile on his face and listen to people talk. It’s surprising how freely people talk when they think the person isn’t paying attention.

Demetrio is a gentleman by the standards. He'll take off his coat and lay it across a puddle for his friends to cross without getting their shoes wet, he'll open doors for them. Essentially, he's the type to always be there for his friends. Though sometimes he oblivious to social clues that prevent him from being a gentleman and ends up making him an ass. Though its hard to say when he is oblivious, it seems random when it occurs. It could be about his own personal relationships or accidentally saying something at the wrong point. It can be comical to see when he is oblivious. Point out he’s not getting something and he'll try and figure out what hes missing, not always able to figure it out.

All around, Demetrio is a complex guy who to really understand, it’s important to get to know him. Who knows, he might just surprise people and do something exactly the opposite of what might be expected of him.

+ Children: Children are the future and one reason he took up with the government. If want a better future for them. But if he can make even ones day brighter, the world is that much brighter.

+ Custard tarts. Sweet to the taste, Demetrio loves these treats. He would rarely get them when younger, and to this day having a custard tart can still make him smile.

+ Fighting. A good spar is always fun, especially if it gets the adrenaline flowing. There’s nothing better than to be able to stretch his muscles and keep up his skills while getting some of his aggression and frustration out.

+ Reading. Yes, he actually enjoys picking up a book and reading through the heroic tales and the sad adventures. His apartment has a bookshelf with well-worn books. This is where he escapes to when the pressure of keeping his identity a secret becomes too great.

+ The Sea. It sucks being in a place where you can’t visit the sea easily. He enjoys it as its limitless and no matter what happens, it’ll go on, continue to be exactly how it was, rolling with force during a storm or as steady when the weather is good.
+ Dance/music: Demetrio loves dancing and music, which is good considering he works as a dancer. He can also play the guitar, but none of his coworkers know that right now.
+ The weather: Believe it or not, he actually likes it when its a gloomy day and the rain is falling. There's no real reason for him to like it, but to know that he can walk outside and feel the rain runing down his face just lifts his spirits.

Rabbits. Hes not fully sure why he doesn’t like them, but for anything to look that cute and fluffy, there has to be something else that just isn’t quite right about them.

- Driving while it’s storming. He loves storms, but he gets nervous driving while the lightening crashes and the thunder rolls. Perhaps it’s a throwback to another life.

-Liars: Who really likes liars? They offer one thing but end up having the tongue of a snake. Demetrio should know as his life depends on his ability to keep up a few very well established lies.

-Small dogs. Those things are yappy and always underfoot. If not careful it be easy to step on and are just a general annoyance. Really, he’s not sure what they’re good for.

- Lack of personal space. Demetrio likes to keep his own personal bubble of space around himself. It may seem odd for an exotic dancer to say this, but it’s his livelihood to get close and personal with people. So when he has a chance to not have his own space invaded, he guards it carefully.

-To be able to tell his brother and sister that they are related. As of right now, its too dangerous for Antonio and Carmen to know they have another brother, but he'll keep it to himself and follow his made up back story.

- To actually be able to trust people again on first sight and not have to constently be on the look out for people wanting to kill him or get in his pants.

-He's heard his brother play guitar, hes stood in the back of a preformace where he wouldn't been seen. It would be nice to perhaps play the guitar together and do some gigs together.

~Submisivness. No so much of being submissive in some sense, but he doesn’t want to ever be broken to the point where his happiness and depends on someone else. He doesn’t want to ever be to the point where his lie is yearning to make another person happy. He’s doing that enough in his job as it is, he couldn’t stand it if his whole life depended on someone staying happy

~ Drowning: . While he actually is a decent swimmer, he’s still afraid of drowning. It’s a painful way to die he’s heard. He likes to swim, its one of the ways he keeps up his exercise, hut drowning… he makes sure to keep from getting cramps and over doing it so he can always get to the edge.

~ His cover being broken: This is one fear he has to deal with every day. One wrong word, one wrong action, and he could be found out for what he is. He has no idea what the criminal underground would do to him if they found how he worked with the government, but its one thing he hopes he never finds out. .

From the time Demetrio was young, he never knew his father, only a vague memory of a man that could have been his father… or it could have been the mailman. Really, Demetrio really didn’t care. If the man who had sired him didn’t have time for his family, Demetrio didn’t want anything to do with him. Not that the boy thought off his absent father much, he was more concerned with helping his mother around the house and doing well in his studies and with futbol. He helped his mother every chance he was given. There was only one problem that most people thought he had, the boy hardly smiled. Well, he might have smile, but it wasn’t a true one, it never reached his eyes. Despite this, and peoples worried, the boy was happy with his life; he just never saw much reason for smiling. To him, it was unnecessary facial movements. Why smile, it was his own life an own business, other didn’t need to bother with it. Thus many said, even at his young age, that he was melancholic.
As he grew older, perhaps around thirteen, he still didn’t care about his absent father, the man was already dead to him; though who wouldn’t be after leaving a woman to raise a young child alone. Like a typical boy who was growing up, he got in trouble just like every other boy in his class. Though he participated in classic pranks, some people notice that he had gained a sarcastic attitude. Some people in his class would even say he could be mean when the spirit took him. It was one day after he had been particularly mean, that he got a call from the office. Fearing he would get in trouble and disappoint his mother, he made his way to the office, ready to apologize. What he found was not what he was expecting though. Instead of his mother angrily taping her toe, he saw one of his mother’s good friends. She had come to get him to take him to the hospital; his mother had been admitted earlier that day after collapsing in the kitchen.

In tears from fear for his mother, he could only imagine the worst. Being escorted to her room, he could only stand there and stare as she smiled at him an held out her arms for him, one still connected to an IV. For the first time since he was a little child, he broke down in tears and ran to the comfort of his mother’s arms. Comforting him, his eyes dried and for a real smile graced his face. Seeing his mother so happy with it he was determined to always have a smile for her. As time went on an she was released from the hospital, he learned that she had been sick for a while, but had been hiding it. It was only now that he knew he should try to contact his father, he couldn’t take care of her himself. But he had no way to try an contact him; no address, no phone number, no nothing. Growing even more hateful towards the man that wasn’t there, he was determine to prove they didn’t need him, that Demetrio could take care of his mother and the house by himself.

And he kept his word. Throughout the rest of his teens, while it was hard, he did everything he could for his mother, never realizing that she had been pushing him out of the house more. She was always a strong woman, and very hard headed, but it seemed that since he body had gotten frail, he mind grew shaper. It was her that got him into futbl when he turned fifteen an encourage him to keep at it when he showed skill. He wanted to make her smile and enjoy, and she always enjoyed watching him play. After High school, he learned that he had a chance in the police force in London. He was hesitant to leave Lisbon. Though a strong deciding factor came on the day of his eighteenth birthday. In the male addressed to him was a letter from his father. Hesitant to read it at first, he tore it open to see if any possible explanation was given. Unfortunately this is not what he found. Instead, he gained a bit of information. He had younger siblings in London. After talking it over with his mother, it was decided; he would head to London and join the police force.

Making his way to London, he immediately found a decent resident with almost immediate acceptance into the training for the police. And training for law enforcement wasn’t like he thought, but he thrived. While he didn’t smile as much as he had at home, he developed a sort of smirk that told when he was amused with something. But the greatest thing that could have happened is one of his instructors for the course turned out to be his sister. It was a stroke of luck really, he had planned to use his police work to help him find his missing family and here one of them was, little work required.
Pretty soon his training was done and all that was left was field work when he was approached by the head of the MI6 approached him. They had seen his skill and wanted him to take up a potentially dangerous roll. If he accepted, he be working as an undercover, starting as soon as they could get a new history in place for him. Accepting the offer, it only took a few days to completely put his new background in the computer system. His new boss, after personally giving him his diploma, started spreading the rumor that Demetrio quit the academy because he couldn’t take the pressure and the constant suspicion he would have to have for his fellow citizens. Demetrio hoped that story was believable, but he could only trust the system and his own ability to lie and keep up the charade as he headed to his new assignment. With a little bit of work on his own part, he gained entrance to the casino as an exotic dancer. He knew his mother would be horrified at the thought of it, though he wasn’t sure about his sister…. Though it really didn’t matter. He was in a position to potentially over hear information, and he was in a position to help the police if they decided to take on the casino. This was bound to be interesting.

Run. That’s all he could do now and bury the sorrow and guilt that tore at his heart. why did it have to him that survived? He had made a promise to his brother he would watch out for there mutual friend, and it looked like this was one he wasn't going to be able to keep. Demetrio knew he had problems keeping promises sometimes, but he had never broken one like this before. He could only blame himself. Demetrio usually considered himself brave; facing down swords and guns in the wars was no problem. But this? He was running as if the hounds of hell were on his heels and breathing there sulfurous breathe down his neck. Deep down he knew that he wasn’t at fault, that the creature had surprised them both out of nowhere and attacked before w either could blink. It didn’t matter that anyone would have ran in these instances, there first encounter with a monster; what mattered to him was that he had taken off I like a coward. Blood splattered the front of his shirt, leaving an red sash from his shoulder to hip, telling a gruesome tale of its own.


Stopping once he thought he was finally safe, he leaned against the wall, breath coming in pants. Holding his side, he could only hope the muscle kink would work itself out before he had to run again, escape from the horrors of his worst nightmares come to life. Someone was dead or dying and he had done nothing to stop it. Looking down at his own hands, he saw blood stains, the same blood that had stained his shirt. The monster he had seen kill the other Nation, what had it looked like? Trying to think back, he realized something that had him frozen, muscles were paralyzed in place, not a breath escaped his lips. The monster had been a mirror refection of himself. Bright jade eyes had locked with bright jade eyes over the sound of gasping breaths, the man under him trying to breathe, to take in one more breath of life to survive, make it another minute against the icy intentions above him.


“Lovino?”


Had he himself done the terrible act? Had he murdered one of his friends? Or was it actually a monster that took his form to do it? Demetrio believed in monsters, in magic that could make wonderful mysteries or chaotic mayhem. He believed in superstitions and in the boogeyman… could it have been his believe in these things combined with the dark power of the manor that made it real? Or had he really turned into what he feared; a monster that could easily take the life of another?
Sliding down the wall, a few tears started trailing their way down his face, slowly down to drip onto the floor below him. A pressure built in his chest and it seemed to choke him, A soft sob tore its way from his chest and he couldn’t stop it. All he could do was sit and cry; cry for what he had lost. A friend, and perhaps, his own sanity as well.