Post by hyperion thomas lestrange on Feb 11, 2012 15:07:42 GMT
hyperion thomas lestrange
SEVENTEEN - SLYTHERIN - PUREBLOOD - ALEX PETTYFER
THE SCARS OF YOUR LOVE
[/size]remind me of us - - - - - -[/center]
eight characteristics that defined my childhood
[/justify][/size]8. my mother. a short little bundle of blonde hair and raised voices, romilda lestrange would be a defining characteristic in the life of all those unfortunate enough to have met her. she’s bigoted, narcissistic, bossy, and has the disposition that she’s absolutely always correct, and she expects the world to realize this the first instant she opens her mouth. proud, strict, and fuelled by a hungry desire see her only son succeed, memories of my mother aren’t necessarily my favorite. don't get me wrong; i love the woman dearly, but there’s only so much scolding about imperfections that a boy can handle before he starts to harbor resentment. and mother was a stickler for perfection- she raised me as a nineteenth century gentleman, with polite manners and eloquent speech, no outbursts that could jeopardize the family name, though that didn’t go over as well as she’d hoped as evidenced by the sheer number of time-outs and detentions i’ve been forced to endure for me shenanigans. mother has never been particularly nurturing, nor particularly affectionate. maybe when i was an infant, but as far back as i can remember she’s never been a coddling type of woman, so my childhood wasn’t exactly overflowing with motherly tenderness, kisses for scraped knees or bedtime stories.
7. my father. it’s no secret among the wizarding community that rabastan lestrange lacks many of the qualities required to be a good role model- he’s timid and nervous, a quiet man who often hid in the shadow of his wife during the many long years spent raising me. he frequently allowed mother to boss him around and willingly gave her free reign of the household while he sat quietly to the side. most of my memories of my father are of a spindly man who sat at the dinner table meekly chewing his steak while mother scolded him about this, that, and the other thing. father wasn’t home most of the time, whether because he was off doing whatever it is that he does for a living or hiding from mother, i couldn’t be sure. there are a handful of instances when father and i would venture out together without mother, and on such occasions father would usually hold my hand in the streets of diagon alley to keep me from wandering off or falling behind, or he’d stop and buy me and ice cream or a box of bertie botts every flavor beans. it was very clear which parent had more affection for me growing up.
6. family. coming from the very prestigious house of black (at least distantly) both of my parents believe in the importance of a close-knit family. big supporters of the whole “blood is thicker than wine” spiel, my folks are. i have whole slew of cousins, like the blacks, the dolohovs, the gaunts, and of course the lestranges, most of them from my mother’s side of the family. whenever my parents would leave town, supposedly on business, though i still have absolutely no idea what it is either of them do for a living, i would be shipped off to one of my aunt and uncle’s house, usually the blacks’. i grew very close to my cousins, especially little deidre. i think i act more like a brother to her than her actual brother, probably because of the slight decent age difference they have. it’s rather unexpected, but because i never had any siblings and spent a large portion of my childhood surrounded by four of my cousins, i developed the strong urge to protect them, ‘specially ‘dray since she’s the only girl in the bunch. i’d do anything for my cousins, which makes my parents unwarrantedly proud because it means i’m loyal to the family or something, and they think it means they succeeded in instilling me with all of their opinions or some shit like that.
5. wealth. old families tend to have accumulated an abundance of gold over the generations, and the lestranges are no exception. because of this, i've never had to endure the struggles or poverty or face the worry of not having enough money to get whatever it is i desire. i guess you could say that i was spoiled as a child, always given what i whined for if i whined to the right person or was annoying enough. anything from broomsticks, to pets, to clothes, to books, to toys- it was all mine, easily afforded by my parents if they were given the motivation to go out and buy them for me.
4. travel. coming from a wealthy family, i often suffered my parents’ whim and desire to travel and see the world. over christmas or summer holidays, when i sought to return home and enjoy the comfort of my own bed and my own little childhood kingdom of the vast lestrange estate, i would pack my bags and meet my parents back at king’s cross only to be whisked away to some foreign location. paris. rome. sicily. new york. melbourne. st. petersburg. tokyo. several islands in the caribbean. i’ve been to them all over the course of my life, usually without much warning before leaving. i often return from holidays to an excited audience in the slytherin common room, leaning attentively and curiously as they wait eagerly to discover where the lestranges vacationed this time, and more importantly to see if i’ve bothered to bring any of them souvenirs.
3. magic. i’m a wizard from a pureblood family. there was never any doubt that i’d have magic in my blood, though i think mother started to worry when i hadn’t displayed any signs of magic by the age of five. she was worrying about the family’s image if her only son turned out to be a squib, of course, but luckily for her my magic made itself known shortly before my sixth birthday, so she needn’t have fretted. when one of the servants found the family portraits in the living room griping about me changing the color of their skirts and suits in their photos, mother was understandably relieved.
2. hogwarts. living in whales, it’s only sensible that my parents would send me to the school that had thus far taught every one of my ancestors how to harness their magic, though i’ve heard that mother had considered the idea of sending me to durmstrang to toughen me, or some other rubbish like that. something about them having an excellent dark arts program or whatever. the idea of her only son not following in the family legacy of graduating from slytherin is probably the only thing that kept her from actually shipping me off to that frozen wasteland. if the sorting hat had placed me in any other house but slytherin though, i’m sure she would’ve made history by ripping me out of school and transferring me on the spot.
1. detentions. i was a rambunctious little bastard, a real handful. i’m pretty sure that my boundless energy and unbridled curiosity as a child is the reason that my parents didn’t try to have another child; they had their hands full with me, and wouldn’t have been able to juggle another fiend. mother or one of the servants always had me in timeout for this or that, stealing cookies or tormenting the family cat. of course, when i started my schooling at hogwarts, these characteristics didn’t just suddenly cease; i spent more friday nights than i can count in a professor’s office, writing lines or cleaning the undersides of desks or some other ridiculous sort of punishment. i just have the unfortunate knack for always finding mischief to meddle with, and when i was younger i had an unpleasant knack for getting caught in my meddling. as i’ve grown older, i’ve mastered the art of weaseling my way out of such situations, but that in no way means that i don’t get caught every once in a while. there are still those rare occasions when i can’t charm the professor into letting me slide with a tap on the wrist, but hey, what’s life without a little risk? you only live once, after all.
seven words people have used to describe me
[/justify][/size]7. dick.
6. moody.
5. manipulative.
4. heartbreaker.
3. cheeky.
2. sexy.
1. brilliant.
these are rather self-explanatory. did you really expect me to comment on every single thing i tell you? are you really so thick-headed that you need everything spelled out for you? c’mon, you’re a smart girl! you can put two and two together. though, as a helpful hint, the last one’s usually being said breathlessly by whatever girl i happen to fancy at the time.
six weapons i carry in my arsenal
[/justify][/size]6. charm. the gift to enchant people with my personality always catches people by surprise, because apparently everyone who’s heard of me imagines me as a barbarian raised without the slightest bit of manners. no one ever remembers that pureblooded families are extremely old fashioned, and the one thing my father always stressed was the need for me to always act like the perfect gentleman. so i learned, but as the years have passed i’ve let my manners gather dust, only brushing them off when i need to turn up the charm in order to get my way.
5. eloquence. keeping with charm and impressions of me, apparently i give off a rough-around-the-edges vibe; people who meet me expect me to be brash and vulgar. sometimes i am, but every now and then i stun everyone around with an unexpected display of vocabulary and fancy sentences, usually when i want to be taken seriously. it’s amazing how many people will listen to you when you pull words like “lexicon” or “plethora” out of your back pocket and just toss them into everyday conversation.
4. confidence. i'm a cocky bastard, i’ll admit it. it’s not always a good trait to have, but hey, the world’s a vastly more interesting place when you know you’re indestructible.
3. recklessness. slytherins are known for their caution and sense of self-preservation; i was apparently born without such traits, and often find myself attempting daring stunts that none of my housemates would ever dream of doing. they think i’m crazy, or suicidal, or both. it’s there loss, because my lack of caution usually means
2. family name. the lestrange family is rather prominent, branching from the house of black, which is one of the oldest pureblooded families in wizarding history. the name is also incredibly recognizable because of our previous affiliation with he-who-must-not-be-named. it’s a common assumption that the family still practices the dark arts religiously, and i’d be lying if i said that didn’t use this to my advantage: people who don’t know me are scared because they think that i’m going to hex their loved ones, and classmates try to suck up to me in the event that i inherited bellatrix’s madness and plan on becoming the next dark lord. do you really expect me not to use this to my advantage? really? you have way too much faith in me, then.
1. reputation. on top of coming from a family with a bad reputation, i’ve earned myself a pretty intimidating name over the years. i’m a bad influence. a sweet-talker who can weasel his way out of anything. a whacko daredevil who once tried a balancing act on the divination tower’s ledge. a hopeless romantic who’ll bring my date flowers and steal them away for midnight escapades on the grounds. i don’t care what you’ve heard, but you can be damn sure that i’m going to try and find a way to use my reputation to get what i want from you.
five ambitions
[/justify][/size]5. minister of magic. as the only child of rabastan lestrange and romilda gaunt, both ambitious people in their own ways, it’s been expected of me from a young age to have a very large and grand life goal to strive after. so little me, when challenged to choose my future career path on the spot, decided to aim for the grandest profession of all: when one of mother’s friends asked my seven year old self “what do you want to be when you grow up?” i grinned a big gap-toothed grin at her and proclaimed “i’m going to be the next minister of magic!” mother and father beamed with pride, of course, but as i’ve grown older i’ve realized just how lofty and unattainable this goal is. while i’ve lowered my expectations, i’m certain my parents are still vying for the day when they can boast to their friends about their son, the minister of magic.
4. to not fail the herbology newt. it’s nothing particularly extravagant or glamorous, and not even all that difficult. it’s no “become the next minister of magic” type of goal, that’s for sure, but it’s bloody challenging for me considering that i’m rubbish at herbology. i barely scraped by the owls with a passing grade in this hellish subject, and i know flying colors are too selfish for me to ask for, so with the newts fast approaching my goal is merely to not fail it.
3. to settle down and start a family. yeah, yeah, get it all out of your system now. hyperion lestrange, master manwhore and hogwart’s hailing heartbreaker wants to settle down? trust me, i’ve heard it all before, and sometimes i don’t even believe myself. but somewhere deep inside my mind, in a place that really only comes forward in the middle of the night when i lay awake staring at the ceiling thinking about my life, i know that i want to be a father someday. every future i can imagine for myself involves a coming home to a loving wife with a child on her hip and at least one more chasing a dog around her legs, as stereotypical as it sounds. but don’t go spreading this bullshit around; it’s just between you and me, okay? can’t give everyone the impression that i’m a sappy romantic; it’d ruin me rep.
2. dragon keeper. it’s utterly ridiculous, i know. and completely uncharacteristic for a guy who’s number one aspiration is to become the minister of magic to also have the ambition to get into the business of keeping dragons. what can i say? there's just something utterly exhilarating about the idea of spending my days defying an inevitable death brought about by a giant, scaly lizard with wings, talons, and the ability to breathe fire. probably why i like the idea: the stress that comes with the job wouldn’t come from all the paperwork and protocol.
1. muggle chef. what’s even more ridiculous than the lestrange boy throwing his life away to go tame dragons? the lestrange boy tossing away all of his magic schooling, snubbing his pure lineage and throwing all of the prestige and potential away to go gallivanting off to some culinary school where he’d learn to cater to the whims of important muggles. haha, yeah, that’d definitely go over well with my parents. they’d either kill me, disown me, or have me sent to a shrink just to make sure i wasn’t going completely bonkers. but from a young age i’ve been intrigued by food, a characteristic probably aided by my family’s yearly summer holiday spent in a cozy little french cottage just outside of paris.
four fears
[/justify][/size]4. splinching. the idea of apparating and ending up on the other end missing an arm or half of my body or anything is absolutely terrifying, okay? i try not to apparate a whole lot, or make sure that i’m concentrating really damn hard when i do. i like my body the way it is, thank you very much.
3. hippogriffs. all of the viciousness of an eagle with a pointy beak and sharp talons and the hard, strong hind hooves of a horse? no thank you. i’ll pass. add in the fact that they’re easily offended and i’ve been known to have an offensive personality and that’s just a combination i’m content to stay far away from.
2. flying. if humans were meant to fly, we would’ve been born with wings. a flimsy little broom doesn’t seem like nearly enough to keep a full grown man- me- airborne. i don’t trust it, and i’m the guy who’s reckless enough to stand on the edge of one of the towers. that’s saying something.
1. failure. while lestranges aren’t known for their successes, we’re also not known for our failures. mother and uncle rodolphous expect nothing short of greatness from us, and the idea disappointing eiter of them is absolutely intimidating. i would hate to have to sit through dinner after that.
three things i’ll never tell anyone
[/justify][/size]3. i'm not nearly as bigoted as i seem. really, i’m not. us Lestranges have this bad reputation for being stubborn, narcissistic bigots who hate muggleborns and any house that isn’t slytherin. i'm not like that. whatever your blood status or your house or even your sexuality, i couldn’t be bothered to dislike you based on those things- if i dislike you, it’s because of your personality or that fact that you dislike me. plain and simple. but i’ve got a reputation to uphold as an arrogant, bigoted pureblood prick; gotta keep appearances up for the family image or else fear the wrath of uncle rodolphus.
2. the sorting hat tried to put me in gryffindor. it’s no secret that slytherins and gryffindors share a lot of the same traits- ambitious, competitive, etc. since i exhibit a lot of those same characteristics, the hat suggested that i would do well up in the towers with all those lions. a lestrange being sorted into gryffindor? have you ever heard of such a thing? it’s blasphemous! my family would’ve disowned me!
1. i doubt my masculinity. i mean, i’m a confident, arrogant son of a bitch- and if you’ve ever met mother, you’d totally agree- but there are those rare moments when a girl turns me down, or i’m looking at clothes a little too seriously, i wonder if i’m not as masculine as I should be. it’s ridiculous, i know, but everyone has insecurities; they’re not human if they don’t.
two bad habits that i need to break
[/justify][/size]2. smoking. tobacco is addictive, after all, and ever since i started in my fifth year to try and impress some of the seventh years i haven’t been able to quit. i kinda like the smell and the fact that chicks seem to think it creates this whole “bad boy” image, but i hate the taste and the fact that it makes my lungs feel like they’re covered in a layer of tar. oh well. i guess it’s a give and take type of thing that i’m going to have to accept or else kick the habit once and for all.
1. fidgeting. it’s really unbecoming, and it really pisses mother off when i sit at the dinner table during a family meeting and am constantly playing with my ring, or shifting in my seat, or fiddling with my hair or a napkin or forks. i’ve been trying, but i can’t help it. sitting still just isn’t in my skill set.
one thing i keep on me at all times
[/justify][/size]1. the lestrange family ring. a big, clunky old thing made of black titanium or obsidian or some other dark black shiny metal, engraved with a fancy cursive “l” that resembles a coiling snake. as the oldest lestrange in this generation, father gave it to me, even though i think it’s gaudy and didn’t really want it. but since one of the relatives would flay me alive if i didn’t keep it, i wear it on my right ring finger, even though i’m left handed and people typically wear rings on their dominant hand- wouldn’t want to give anyone the impression that mother went and married me off before i’ve finished my schooling.
YOUR GOING TO WISH
[/size]you had never met me - - - - - -[/center]
[/font][/blockquote][/size]
name/alias: danger.
gender: female.
age: eighteen.
contact: just pm, cuz i’m boring that way. i lurk the c-box frequently, though.
how you found us: i was looking for hp sites and you’d advertised on all of them. i simply had to check it out.
other characters: none yet. i know, it’s so sad.
experience: um… sixish years?
role play sample:
braxton had always reminded her of a cat more than a dog, what with the way he sat back and, with an air of supreme disinterest and an ever calculating mind, observed the world around him. in situations like these he did little more than nod, or shrug, or frown. she'd grown accustomed to the bigger picture that could be interpreted from his minute actions. the tenseness of his nod was a brief reminder that he loathed the control that the moon had over him, an acknowledgement to his disease or infection or whatever the hell he wanted to call his werewolf-ism. personally, she found the added sense of danger and the brooding sexier than it was intimidating, but she’d known the brunette since forever and was a little biased on the topic of braxton devereaux. the sharpness of his sudden exhale and the gradual relaxation of his muscles- namely his shoulders, which drooped slightly under her scrutinizing green eyes- indicated that she’d done something to ease him off of high-alert into the more casual state of just alert. the brunette couldn’t begin to fathom how she’d managed to relax him, but she wasn’t going to ask the magician how he’d preformed his trick and ruin the illusion- granted, of course, that he was a muggle magician and now a wizard, because in the latter case she probably already knew what he’d done.
“‘bearable’ doesn’t really do much to sooth worrywarts,” she grumbled in response to his answer. bry didn’t add that his reassurances were especially unhelpful when she was keenly aware of his tolerance and endurance and overall stubbornness; things that were bearable to the werewolf could easily squash most if the burdens were transferred from his shoulders to theirs. his fingers clasped gingerly on her chin, angling her face up to make it easier for him as he leaned down to nip affectionately at her jaw. despite wanting to be aggravated with him for what she believed to be dodgy response to her question, the corners of her lips twitched into the faintest of smiles. “there’s air in the dorms. it’s just stale and vaguely reminiscent of seaweed.”
“‘bearable’ doesn’t really do much to sooth worrywarts,” she grumbled in response to his answer. bry didn’t add that his reassurances were especially unhelpful when she was keenly aware of his tolerance and endurance and overall stubbornness; things that were bearable to the werewolf could easily squash most if the burdens were transferred from his shoulders to theirs. his fingers clasped gingerly on her chin, angling her face up to make it easier for him as he leaned down to nip affectionately at her jaw. despite wanting to be aggravated with him for what she believed to be dodgy response to her question, the corners of her lips twitched into the faintest of smiles. “there’s air in the dorms. it’s just stale and vaguely reminiscent of seaweed.”
the male drew back and away from her before she was sufficiently satisfied with her exploration of his skin, and she frowned unhappily up at him as he contorted his face into an expression of utmost seriousness. “you didn’t follow me up here just because you wanted to police my late night… encounters, did you?” “yes.” brynne said, the perfect picture of seriousness. “i’m a jealous lover, and the idea of some lowly tramp occupying your time stirred homicidal urges within me. it’s really for the safety of innocents that i’m here.”[/b] her expression survived longer than his did, and shortly after her features betrayed her; her lips curled into a smirk, and a giggle burst from her mouth.[/quote]
