Post by Deleted on Jan 20, 2012 11:46:34 GMT -5
nathaniel, john, creed,
SHATTERED WINDOWS AND THE SOUND OF DRUMS
people couldn't believe what i'd become
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[/b] Nathaniel John Creed.full name:
age: Twenty seven.
sexual orientation: Heterosexual.
blood status: Pure blood.
former house: Slytherin.
occupation: Hogwarts Potions Professor.
alliance: Order of the Phoenix.
amortentia: The smell after rain, old books, spiced apple.
patronus: Red Fox [vulpes vulpes].
boggart: Full moon.
erised: Lifted of his curse.
strengths: Excellent listener and understanding of others' anguish; extensive knowledge of potions and elixirs; skilled wandsman; fiercely loyal and caring.
weaknesses: Has a tendency to become brooding and even callous; low self-esteem; sensitive of the subject of his condition; lives in fear of his transformations which results in reclusive behaviour.
likes: Potions, solitude, tea, jelly babies, Muggles, discovery, the Order, Hogwarts, magical creatures, books.
dislikes: The full moon, Death Eaters and whom they follow, being proven wrong, disrespect, broccoli, cats.
habits: Chews nails and constantly runs his fingers through his hair when troubled or deep in thought.
goals: To find a cure for werewolfism, to live long enough to see the war to the end.
personality:
Nathaniel has a brilliant mind, his ability to solve difficult predicaments is excellent, and first began to shine through in his first couple of years at Hogwarts. His intellect would have earned him a place in Ravenclaw house, were it not for his fiery ambition and will to achieve great things. Nathaniel's main expertise lies within the area of potion making, a subject he always favored at a young age, and thus he eventually received the post of Potions Professor. Although, he prefers his brain over his brawn, he is a highly capable wizard and wandsman.
Nathaniel is also a very quiet man, and tends to keep to himself the vast majority of the time, refusing to burden others with minor problems. Despite this, he is very attentive to others, and will seek to comfort and listen to those who need someone to vent their inner turmoils to. His friendlier, more approachable personality offers more enjoyable lessons of Potions to students, unlike most of its prior occupants.
Bizarrely, despite his kind-hearted personality and off beat humor, Nathaniel can be far more aloof and sombre than many would expect him to be. When agitated, he can become intensely brooding, serious and even callous without always meaning to be. His condition is to blame for this, but due to the fact that it is a highly classified secret, many have their own conclusions to his sometimes cold behaviour.
appearance:
Standing just under six feet, Nathaniel is of an average height, yet the subtle stoop in his posture gives him a slightly shorter appearance. He has dark brown, almost black hair often messily styled forwards as he takes little interest in keeping up appearances. He also has a pair of misty blue eyes, which can often appear a silvery-grey; giving him a mysterious impression. Sometimes however, he tends to look gradually more ragged and skinny, due to the side-effects of his condition.
marks, scars, tattoos, etc: Many faint, self-inflicted scars adorn his body from taking on his transformed state. The most prominent of these scars is on his right leg, where a werewolf had bitten him as a child.
overall style: Usually he'd be found dressed in a long, pinstriped suit/robes with a dress shirt and tie; although anything comfortable would suit him well. When dressing casually outside of his job, he favours denim and leather. Muggle Converse are a favourite of his.
mother: Mary Creed. [deceased].
father: John Creed. [deceased].
siblings: Edward Creed. [whereabouts unknown].
spouse: None.
children: None.
other family members: None worth mentioning.
wealth status: Middle class.
pets: A Barn Owl named Sebastian.
history:
Nathaniel was born into a wizarding family known as the Creeds. His father, John Creed, was a pure blood - particularly well known for his work within the Ministry department of International Magical Cooperation. His wife, Mary Creed, was a full time housewife; preparing their two sons Edward and Nathaniel for the wizarding world. Nathaniel first began showing signs of magical talent at the age of four, when various objects throughout the house would hover slightly above ground at his command, albeit for a few seconds. Edward, being two years Nathaniel' senior, was the first of the two sons to begin their wondrous adventure at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Just as his parents had hoped, he gained a place in Ravenclaw house and exceeded in both Astronomy, and Care of Magical Creatures class. Nathaniel, however, was quite the opposite - in his first year of school he was placed in Slytherin house, and suffered the negative connotations that the name held, though the Sorting Hat claimed that it was Nathaniel's strong ambitions that earned him a place in that dreadful house. His parents weren't thrilled about this development, but were supportive nonetheless; especially of his newfound love and skill for Potions class. Going to Hogwarts was an incredible experience for Nathaniel, he was surrounded by people like him, with awe-inspiring adventures and experiences everyday - the thing he yearned for most. He was quiet at school, as was his nature, and had few yet genuine, close friends. Life was wonderful.
However not all stories have happy endings. One day disaster struck, an Azkaban escapee was loose. A Death Eater. A werewolf. And lucky for the Creed family, it was also a full moon. They were all at home for the holidays, sleeping in their beds, the young boys excited to return to Hogwarts in a matter of days. The escaped convict broke into the house, wild in his crazed, transformed state. In an attempt to protect their children, both John and Mary shouted for them to run and save themselves. The boys fled the scene, the werewolf endeavored to catch them, inflicting a quick bite on Nathaniel's right leg, but the boys escaped with their lives. Their parents weren't so lucky. The boys found refuge at a nearby wizarding residence, and the Ministry took swift action and investigated the scene of the attack. Mr and Mrs Creed were dead, and the Death Eater was nowhere to be found.
Years passed and the two Creed boys continued to attend school, though no longer with a family or home to return to. Edward soon finished school, and left the country to study magical creatures abroad. Life for Nathaniel on the other hand didn't run quite as smoothly. The bite on his leg was an infected one, causing the boy to transform into a hideous monster once every full moon. But he didn't dare tell anybody, for he could lose his place at Hogwarts - his only home. Though he couldn't keep living like he was, his secret would soon be discovered, he had no choice but to seek help from the Headmaster. Nathaniel expected to be shunned, alas he was mistaken, he was accepted for the Headmaster knew that he would not purposefully harm others and that he could be trusted. He was provided with Wolfsbane potion to relieve the symptoms of his condition, a potion which fascinated Nathaniel. If a potion could lessen the effects, then surely it should be possible to develop a potion that could cure. This he made his lifelong goal.
And so, Nathaniel's secret was kept hidden for years, even until he left school. He returned, however, to teach at what he felt was his only home and his expertise earned him a place as the Professor of Potions; an ideal occupation to help him achieve his goal, and the dungeons provide the perfect place for his secret transformations once every full moon.[/blockquote]
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
taken from a regency era roleplay
It was late, the darkness of the night had already consumed all in its path. Were it not for the bravery of the lamp-lighter boys, any vision through this blanket of darkness would be quite the impossible. Even the moon itself had troubles pushing it's beams of light through the sheer density of the fog, that swirled eerily about the feet of those few who wandered London's streets by nightfall - courageous, fearless, ignorant - whatever they may be it wasn't a wise thing to do. Everyone was paranoid when nightfall arrived, no one trusted another who wandered the streets for fear that they held a dreadful secret.
One dark and lonely figure trudged, surprisingly quietly, it's way through the shadows between street lamps, ducking away from the light for fear that his identity could became known. His steps were clumsy, and unorganized, perhaps a night down at the olde public house had an effect on this man's ability to walk straight and with purpose. No? No. There was something else about him that eliminated this point completely, he was laughing. A cold, quiet chuckle pulsed from within him, the smell of evil itself lingered about his shadowed and surprisingly lithe frame. Were it not for this, he could easily have passed off as a respectable man, a Doctor to be precise; a Doctor Charles Atwood, taking a stroll, in the moonlight.
Not far from where the Doctor stood was a young woman, clutching tightly to her sides to prevent the chill from getting to her. As soon as she had set eyes on him, she quickly turned on her heel and swept away from him. Yes she was wise to do so, he looked like a dangerous character. He was in fact, and he knew it. The man chuckled, a little louder this time, so the cobblestones beneath their feet rattled with uncertainty. He waited a little while, and stumbled a little further down the street, his face however still consumed by shadow. 'I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw.' He whispered. This was indeed a very dangerous night within the streets of London.
But before the Doctor got too close, something in his mind had switched. Shaking his head from side to side as if he'd just been struck by a violent headache, Charles leaned against a nearby lamp post. Something had changed, his other half had gone for now, and so Charles mumbled a quick thank you to the Lord before continuing on his way.
It was late, the darkness of the night had already consumed all in its path. Were it not for the bravery of the lamp-lighter boys, any vision through this blanket of darkness would be quite the impossible. Even the moon itself had troubles pushing it's beams of light through the sheer density of the fog, that swirled eerily about the feet of those few who wandered London's streets by nightfall - courageous, fearless, ignorant - whatever they may be it wasn't a wise thing to do. Everyone was paranoid when nightfall arrived, no one trusted another who wandered the streets for fear that they held a dreadful secret.
One dark and lonely figure trudged, surprisingly quietly, it's way through the shadows between street lamps, ducking away from the light for fear that his identity could became known. His steps were clumsy, and unorganized, perhaps a night down at the olde public house had an effect on this man's ability to walk straight and with purpose. No? No. There was something else about him that eliminated this point completely, he was laughing. A cold, quiet chuckle pulsed from within him, the smell of evil itself lingered about his shadowed and surprisingly lithe frame. Were it not for this, he could easily have passed off as a respectable man, a Doctor to be precise; a Doctor Charles Atwood, taking a stroll, in the moonlight.
Not far from where the Doctor stood was a young woman, clutching tightly to her sides to prevent the chill from getting to her. As soon as she had set eyes on him, she quickly turned on her heel and swept away from him. Yes she was wise to do so, he looked like a dangerous character. He was in fact, and he knew it. The man chuckled, a little louder this time, so the cobblestones beneath their feet rattled with uncertainty. He waited a little while, and stumbled a little further down the street, his face however still consumed by shadow. 'I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw.' He whispered. This was indeed a very dangerous night within the streets of London.
But before the Doctor got too close, something in his mind had switched. Shaking his head from side to side as if he'd just been struck by a violent headache, Charles leaned against a nearby lamp post. Something had changed, his other half had gone for now, and so Charles mumbled a quick thank you to the Lord before continuing on his way.
Hello! My name is Prosper or Jesse and I've been roleplaying for five years.
My character's play-by is Elijah Wood and my application is better than yours so sort me already!
[/justify]My character's play-by is Elijah Wood and my application is better than yours so sort me already!
