Post by sebastian evelyn remercier on Dec 5, 2010 20:07:10 GMT
SEBASTIAN EVELYN REMERCIER
hello? it's me, effy here, remember? oh, okay. well. i'm seventeen and i've been around this roleplay world for about three or four years. i stumbled about here thanks to how you found us with my friends jules and florence.
HE LIVES IN A FAIRYTALE
[/color] fifeenth of february 2002
full name sebastian evelyn remercier
nicknames seb, ev
age twenty
date of birth
year and house of preference badger, third year
bloodline[/color] muggleborn
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IT'S ALL ABOUT THE EXPOSURE THE LENS
[/color] six foot three
height
weight[/color] .. do you think he knows?
hair colour[/color] brown
eye colour[/color] blue/grey
skin tone[/color] pale
play-by[/color] gaspard ulliel
It could be said that Sebastian is not your typical 'scruffy' kind of guy. Whatever he does, he does it in exquisite fashion. He doesn't give any undue attention to his appearance, but it is just his habit to look like he has stepped straight out of a muggle clothing catalogue.
He wears blazers, clean shirts, dark denim jeans and other simple accessories which are always in fashion. He looks lovely in a tux, or even formal dress robes (he finds them odd though- like dressing in a woman's dress!) He has the look of an Oxbridge man, but couldn't be further from the truth in reality.
One little thing he does to defy this rather 'posh' trend, is to constantly wear scruffy Converses, regardless of what else he may have on. They're his little rebellion against his wardrobe. Well. Aside from the things nature take care of.
His hair; for instance. It's unruly at times, flopping at just the right length to make him look like a rascal with his grin playing on his lips. His eyes, crinkled at the sides prematurely usually shine with good humour and a love of live, although sometimes they darken and you know things are serious. His skin is almost a pearly white, though he rouges rather when he is embarrassed or caught off guard (though funnily enough he is an experienced liar), and there is usually a little stubble on his face as the day wears on- he has never quite got the hang of using wizarding implements to shave.
He is tall, not overly for a man, just tall enough to make him feel masculine (and just tall enough for a girl to curl up beside him on the sofa, or to take his arm during walks around the town or countryside), and although not rake thin, is perfectly healthy-enough sized to be able to down a practical feast without putting on weight. However, he does like to 'work out' as people may put it, and as there are no real swimming facilities in the Hallows university, often skips across to Hogwarts castle to take a dip in the Black Lake.
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SENTENCE ME TO ANOTHER LIFE
[/color] emile charles remercier, 50, businessman
father
mother[/color] emily estelle remercier (nee MacIntyre), 45, housewife
siblings[/color] (twin brother) ___ ___ remercier, 19, (uni or magical adult)
ilse amelie18, younger sister
spouses[/color] n/a
offspring[/color] n/a
other relations[/color] n/a
If Sebastian wasn't a wizard, his life would be in no way extraordinary. He was brought up in London, living in a spacious penthouse with his brother, younger sister and his parents. His mother was of old money in England, so they had a country house, and his father was of new money in France, so they had the penthouse. His parents are rather stuck up, yet jovial types. His mother, who stayed at home and occasionally frequented society during the season, had all the time in the world for the boys, and to an extent they were completely and utterly spoiled. Unconditional love, and the unruly nature of brothers, meant that the boys developed a fondness for almost everything. They were charming, as young boys dressed up in little sailor suits they enchanted all of the women that visited the house, until they hit their teenage years.
Now, although their letters to Hogwarts seemed to come as a surprise to the two brothers, Sebastian had a sneaking suspicion before they arrived. He was a Megamorphagus, and for months previously he would wake up in the middle of the night, and swear that his hands were changing in front of him, then his nose, and his hair colour. But he would shake it off as a dream, and wake up the next morning perfectly normal. It wasn't, but as soon as the letter came it seemed to make sense. However, when he told his brother, he was shocked to find that this was not an experience that was affecting him. Shocked a little by this, Sebastian assumed that it should be the same for all of the other students he was to meet at Hogwarts, and relished the idea of going.
Eventually, entering his first year, he was sorted into Hufflepuff. He was disappointed with this, having heard on the train that Gryffindor was where legends were born, and Ravenclaw where the smartest stood. However, he accepted it with a rougish grin, accepting that he was never to be extraordinary (something he had never really wished for anyway), in a way that only a good-natured Hufflepuff can.
His years at Hogwarts were spent in modest popularity. He never did anything too outrageous, though he did serve detention at least three times a year. He was well liked, had girlfriends with whom he parted on good terms, and had a group of close friends. He got decent grades on his exams- excelling in Charms and Arithmancy- enough to allow him access to Hallows University. There he studies Arithmancy and Magical Journalism, in order that he later be able to take a career at a liberal newspaper and carve out a modest life for himself.
As good as his life may sound, Sebastian does have a dark secret. At Hogwarts, he left on good terms with all of his girlfriends, but he didn't realise that in his sixth year he managed to get a girl pregnant. She left soon after and he never found out, but always felt sad that he never knew much about what happened to her. They were not in love, it was an unhappy (or happy?) accident. So, he doesn't know, and if anyone should like to be related to this girl, or know anything, I guess we could plot!
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IF GOD'S THE GAME THAT YOU'RE PLAYING
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is this app done?
A TIGER IS A TIGER NOT A LAMB MEIN HERR[/color] YOU'LL NEVER TURN THE VINEGAR TO JAM MEIN HERR!
roleplay sample
Florence was nervous as she crept down the darkened hallway that lead to the Ballroom at Hallows University. She hated to say it, but she felt uncomfortable in what she was dressed in. Practically bullied into attending the stupid dance (she hated all institutions which involved dancing, socialising, pretending to like people and everything else which everyone in the damned place seemed to adore) she couldn't feel less comfortable- well, she had just passed huge signs on the door and in the hallway that said that they hadn't had to get all dressed up, after she had been told by her good-for-nothing friends that looking like an idiot was mandatory.
So after she had dumped her longer-than-normal cloak (it was part of her costume) with the delightful uni students who were helping organise the dance she skulked down a side corridor that she was sure would eventually lead to the ballroom. The dark suited her, it gave her a chance to wriggle her toes around in her shoes, yank the tops of her socks up and pull the hem of her dress down. It also allowed her the opportunity to prise her fake vampire fangs out of her mouth- hardly the most lady-like thing to do in public. After all of this, which many would describe as 'violent ablutions', she slunk down the velvet lined wall and tried to move herself into a more positive mental place. It couldn't be all bad- at least she hadn't spent half of the afternoon getting ready like some of her colleagues, who had skipped out of classes early. No, she had spent her afternoon reading and doing delightful things that she had enjoyed, only getting ready at the last minute and using some of the wonderful magical products to tame her hair. Her outfit had needed little make up- just enough to make her paler than usual, to make her eyes look bigger, and some lip stain to make it look like she'd had a vampire-ish meal at some point in the recent past. After thinking this over in her head she banged it against the wall lightly, and began to get up, to start walking again. She tried to think of things that would humour her, her books, running around in the dark, and her friends. Undoubtedly they would be here, and they would make it more bearable for her- even if only with their ridiculous costumes, if their quick wit had been diminished by the open bar.
After walking for a while, in addition to her shoes becoming slightly more comfortable, Florence began to hear the strains of music, as well as people laughing and chatting. Yes, she was definitely getting close to the ballroom. Two corners later and there was a small side door sitting open, the neon lights spilling out into the maroon hallway. From what she could see, Florence concluded that the ball wasn't quite in full swing yet- there were only a few couples and groups of friends on the floor- and so felt relatively safe to go in, this safety was also encouraged by the fact it was dark and that therefore people would have a harder time recognising her, people would only see a strangely late-19th century vampire.
So, with tentative steps Florence entered the room. The atmosphere was tangible, and the music being played kind of made you want to tap your toes. On principle Florence still hated these things anyway, but it couldn't be too bad? She smiled a little at her thoughts, laughed a little too, then remembered that she had fake vampire fangs in too, and that opening her mouth too wide would possibly not be the best of ideas. After standing at the side somewhat awkwardly for a while, she sauntered over to the bar and asked for a Butterbeer. There were stools there, so she scrambled up (she hoped that her lack of grace went unnoticed) and observed the room from there. A flood of people had started coming in from the main doors, laughing and screaming when they met people they knew, admiring well thought out outfits and immediately black-marking the few people who hadn't turned up in any distinguishable costume. She sighed, swigged her drink, and hoped that the swarm of people now heading for the bar would ignore her, but she knew that with people as curious as they were at Hogwarts that it wasn't really feesable.
So after she had dumped her longer-than-normal cloak (it was part of her costume) with the delightful uni students who were helping organise the dance she skulked down a side corridor that she was sure would eventually lead to the ballroom. The dark suited her, it gave her a chance to wriggle her toes around in her shoes, yank the tops of her socks up and pull the hem of her dress down. It also allowed her the opportunity to prise her fake vampire fangs out of her mouth- hardly the most lady-like thing to do in public. After all of this, which many would describe as 'violent ablutions', she slunk down the velvet lined wall and tried to move herself into a more positive mental place. It couldn't be all bad- at least she hadn't spent half of the afternoon getting ready like some of her colleagues, who had skipped out of classes early. No, she had spent her afternoon reading and doing delightful things that she had enjoyed, only getting ready at the last minute and using some of the wonderful magical products to tame her hair. Her outfit had needed little make up- just enough to make her paler than usual, to make her eyes look bigger, and some lip stain to make it look like she'd had a vampire-ish meal at some point in the recent past. After thinking this over in her head she banged it against the wall lightly, and began to get up, to start walking again. She tried to think of things that would humour her, her books, running around in the dark, and her friends. Undoubtedly they would be here, and they would make it more bearable for her- even if only with their ridiculous costumes, if their quick wit had been diminished by the open bar.
After walking for a while, in addition to her shoes becoming slightly more comfortable, Florence began to hear the strains of music, as well as people laughing and chatting. Yes, she was definitely getting close to the ballroom. Two corners later and there was a small side door sitting open, the neon lights spilling out into the maroon hallway. From what she could see, Florence concluded that the ball wasn't quite in full swing yet- there were only a few couples and groups of friends on the floor- and so felt relatively safe to go in, this safety was also encouraged by the fact it was dark and that therefore people would have a harder time recognising her, people would only see a strangely late-19th century vampire.
So, with tentative steps Florence entered the room. The atmosphere was tangible, and the music being played kind of made you want to tap your toes. On principle Florence still hated these things anyway, but it couldn't be too bad? She smiled a little at her thoughts, laughed a little too, then remembered that she had fake vampire fangs in too, and that opening her mouth too wide would possibly not be the best of ideas. After standing at the side somewhat awkwardly for a while, she sauntered over to the bar and asked for a Butterbeer. There were stools there, so she scrambled up (she hoped that her lack of grace went unnoticed) and observed the room from there. A flood of people had started coming in from the main doors, laughing and screaming when they met people they knew, admiring well thought out outfits and immediately black-marking the few people who hadn't turned up in any distinguishable costume. She sighed, swigged her drink, and hoped that the swarm of people now heading for the bar would ignore her, but she knew that with people as curious as they were at Hogwarts that it wasn't really feesable.
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turn it off in all my spite
credit to NERDS CAN ROCK for this app :] her
hard work went into it when she should have
been studying! shoosh! xP lyrics to paramore's
new album; brand new eyes![/font]
