Strengths/Weaknesses: Wales doesn't look very strong, and in sheer force he's a bit of a lightweight, but if he's fighting he's fast and sneaky; he'll fight dirty if that's what he has to do to win. He has a talent for codes and codebreaking, learned during WWII. He keeps his head in a crisis, though as soon as he's alone afterwards he falls apart. He's not afraid of the dark or small spaces on their own, but if he's trapped in a small, dark space he will have a panic attack, he's always been phobic of the combination. He thinks that his tendency to bottle up emotions is a strength, but it's also a weakness because there's a lot that he hasn't dealt with yet. If you actually earn his trust and loyalty, you've got someone at your back for life – but he never forgives a betrayal. He's afraid of falling in love, because it's never ended well for him. His recklessness gets him in trouble sometimes, because when he lets it have free rein there's not much he won't dare to do. Other times it's the only reason something good happens in his life, so depending on the situation it's both a strength and a weakness, and his usual control is the same.
Abilities: Like England, Wales can see magical creatures, and he has some magical ability – though his spells don't work any better than England's do, generally.
Relationships to Canon Characters: Brother to England and Scotland
First Person: [Wales' eyes snap open, and he sits bolt upright. The funny thing was that he had been on a train – he'd had to speak to his Secretary in London – but it definitely wasn't this one, and that definitely wasn't the station in Cardiff that he was pulling into. Still, he gets off, hands in his jacket pockets as he looks around at his surroundings.]
What the bloody fuck is this place?
[His voice is quiet, and he's watchful; it's been a while since he felt the lack of any sort of weapon but right now he does. He doesn't like this town and how deserted it is. He'd like to call for anyone who might be within earshot, but he doesn't want to draw the attention of someone or something that might be a threat.]
Isn't there anyone else in this town? I hope I'm not dead; if this is the afterlife I'm going to be bored. Not that I'm sure how I would be dead, since you'd think I'd have kicked it long ago if... Right. I've kept my sanity this long, best not lose it now talking to myself.
[He fumbles for his lighter and that's when he notices the other thing in his left pocket. He knows the pocketwatch isn't his, and he holds it up in confusion. Seeing the lights that mark it as a communicator, he swears colorfully in Welsh.]
Damn it, just when I was getting used to that mobile... I hope this thing is on. Hello? Anyone listening? Am I using this damn thing right? I just hope it doesn't die on me...
Third Person: Wales sighed as he looked around the flat. It had obviously not been lived in for some time, but he'd be damned if he was going to stay with anyone – there were only a few he'd be able to tolerate living with, and of those, one was already living with people he couldn't tolerate and the other... He wasn't going to be asking anyone else but the first person. So, he'd just have to fix this place up.
Tilting his head, he considered it, absently flicking his lighter on and off as he did so. It was about the size of his flat back home, one of the reasons he liked it so much. And, hell, fixing it up would give him something to do. He hated being idle, it reminded him too much of a good bit of his time in his brother's house with nothing to keep himself occupied. He'd nearly gone crazy back then.
“And what do you intend to do after the place is fixed up, Llywelyn?” he asked himself, speaking aloud to break the silence of the room. That was the problem, of course; he had no idea just what it was he was going to do after this. Though he could find something, he was sure – even if there was no way in hell he was helping down at that shop, even if Canada was working there he could only take his brother and y Broga (the Frog) in small doses. He'd keep himself busy some other way. Maybe offer sword lessons or something mad like that if he could find swords here. Unlikely, but possible.
Well, whatever he was going to do, he'd best get started on this, at least.
Re: [FANDOM OC] Wales/Bran Llywelyn || Axis Powers Hetalia || no reserve || 5 of 5
Abilities: Like England, Wales can see magical creatures, and he has some magical ability – though his spells don't work any better than England's do, generally.
Relationships to Canon Characters: Brother to England and Scotland
First Person: [Wales' eyes snap open, and he sits bolt upright. The funny thing was that he had been on a train – he'd had to speak to his Secretary in London – but it definitely wasn't this one, and that definitely wasn't the station in Cardiff that he was pulling into. Still, he gets off, hands in his jacket pockets as he looks around at his surroundings.]
What the bloody fuck is this place?
[His voice is quiet, and he's watchful; it's been a while since he felt the lack of any sort of weapon but right now he does. He doesn't like this town and how deserted it is. He'd like to call for anyone who might be within earshot, but he doesn't want to draw the attention of someone or something that might be a threat.]
Isn't there anyone else in this town? I hope I'm not dead; if this is the afterlife I'm going to be bored. Not that I'm sure how I would be dead, since you'd think I'd have kicked it long ago if... Right. I've kept my sanity this long, best not lose it now talking to myself.
[He fumbles for his lighter and that's when he notices the other thing in his left pocket. He knows the pocketwatch isn't his, and he holds it up in confusion. Seeing the lights that mark it as a communicator, he swears colorfully in Welsh.]
Damn it, just when I was getting used to that mobile... I hope this thing is on. Hello? Anyone listening? Am I using this damn thing right? I just hope it doesn't die on me...
Third Person: Wales sighed as he looked around the flat. It had obviously not been lived in for some time, but he'd be damned if he was going to stay with anyone – there were only a few he'd be able to tolerate living with, and of those, one was already living with people he couldn't tolerate and the other... He wasn't going to be asking anyone else but the first person. So, he'd just have to fix this place up.
Tilting his head, he considered it, absently flicking his lighter on and off as he did so. It was about the size of his flat back home, one of the reasons he liked it so much. And, hell, fixing it up would give him something to do. He hated being idle, it reminded him too much of a good bit of his time in his brother's house with nothing to keep himself occupied. He'd nearly gone crazy back then.
“And what do you intend to do after the place is fixed up, Llywelyn?” he asked himself, speaking aloud to break the silence of the room. That was the problem, of course; he had no idea just what it was he was going to do after this. Though he could find something, he was sure – even if there was no way in hell he was helping down at that shop, even if Canada was working there he could only take his brother and y Broga (the Frog) in small doses. He'd keep himself busy some other way. Maybe offer sword lessons or something mad like that if he could find swords here. Unlikely, but possible.
Well, whatever he was going to do, he'd best get started on this, at least.