Post by FENRIR GREYBACK ! on May 13, 2009 13:40:08 GMT -5
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I BEEN ROAMIN' AROUND ,
[/font]I BEEN ROAMIN' AROUND ,
always lookin' down at all i see
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FENRIR GREYBACK[/CENTER]
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PAINTED FACES FILL ,
[/font]PAINTED FACES FILL ,
the spaces i can't reach
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NICKNAMES: Fenny (if you have a death wish)
AGE:58
D.O.B.: 23rd September 1950
ALLEGIANCE: Voldemort - but not because he agrees with him - he couldn't care less - but because it gives him better access to victims.
PROFESSION: Low Level Death Eater
WAND TYPE: Willow, 13", Unicorn Mane Hair
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YOU KNOW THAT I ,
[/font]YOU KNOW THAT I ,
could use somebody
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EYE COLOUR: Grey
HEIGHT: 6 ft 4
WEIGHT: 267lbs
BODY TYPE: Bulky and muscular
VOICE: Deep, rough, almost bark like
PERSONAL STYLE: Fenrir does not bother with expensive clothes; he is not rich so he can't afford top labels but also he does not see the point. He hates crowds unless it is a crowd of people for him to turn. He thinks Wizards will one day fall to werewolves. He is more into plain robes that sometimes stretch across his muscles as they are too small.
GENERAL DESCRIPTION:
Fenrir has a very large muscular body, which he has kept in good condition. It is his dream to overthrow the Wizards with werewolves, and so he likes to put people off by intimidating them. His body is littered with scars from fights with others of his kind. He dresses in simple plain robes normally, his death eater robes are a little too tight, but that just emphasises his bulk. When it is the night of the full moon he only dresses in his trousers, so he won’t leave too much evidence behind. Whether he is about to go and do his job as the Dark Lord's hit man or just getting revenge on the one who pissed him off the other day, Fenrir will only have rags for clothes by the end of the night. To be honest, Fenrir hates new clothes; they smell too clean, too new and they feel stiff - plus the purebloods look like right pompous twits in all their finery. His hands are rough and coarse, while his fingernails are yellow and too long, creating almost claw like extensions on his fingers, and they are sharp enough to cut the skin.
Fenrir's love of biting others has made his features, even when he is human, inhuman. His teeth are pointed, sharp and ready to bite through flesh even in his human form, even though he can't infect that way. He seems to have whiskers on his face and his hair is grey and matted. His hair is also always greasy and smelly; it smells of blood, gone off meat, and sweat. His eyes are a deep grey, an emotionless pit of nothing. Never expect a smile from that face; Fenrir is only happy when he is transformed and infecting people. He finds the blood lust a thrill. However, whenever he is in human form expect a sneer, smirk or a frown because he hates wizards on the whole. He just knows that if he kills too many, they will kill him. That’s why he joined Voldemort; it gave him a greater access to victims with a great deal less consequences. Fenrir does not bear the Mark on his arm like other Death Eaters; he hates to admit it when in the company of Wizards, but to be truly honest that is more a pride thing. When he is alone as he likes to be, he does not care.
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AND ALL YOU KNOW ,
[/font]AND ALL YOU KNOW ,
and how you speak
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CHARACTER DISLIKES: Not infecting at least someone in one night, flowers, pink, pompous wizards, the ones he infects and don't join him, milk, St Mungos, Cages, Small rooms, large crowds he can't attack.
GOALS:
- To take over Wizarding World by turning them all, or at least most of them (But don't tell the Dark Lord)
- To find that significant other that will agree with him and help him with his first goal
BOGGART: He fears a cage, Fenrir has always feared being locked up and so this has made him somewhat claustrophobic although he would never admit it aloud. Fenrir once had to be put in a cage when he transformed and it made the transformation all that more worse.
PATRONUS: When he managed to convince his first Victim about how they should overtake the Wizards. It was a fifteen years old boy, Fenrir himself was only eighteen. The boy went on his own way however to continue Fenrir's work. It was that at this point mere thoughts became his goal, that werewolves should not be low in society, they should overtake the Wizards and be top.
DEMENTOR:The first time he transformed he was right by his parents; they had been too slow. Fenrir had lost his mind and attacked them; it did not take long for the out of control, confused, young werewolf to kill them. When he came back round he wept, wizards came round and found him, and they dragged him away. Then at every full moon he was locked up in a small room where he could barely move. Fenrir blames the Wizards for his parents' death; he thinks if they had come sooner, they could have saved them. Fenrir refuses to let the blame fall to him, and so his hate for wizards starts to grow.
AMORENTIA: Blood and the Scent of Oranges (This is a secret, and Fenrir won't admit it to anyone)
BASIC PERSONALITY: Angry, Determined, Sadistic, Dirty, Cruel, Cold, Manipulative
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COUNTLESS LOVERS ,
[/font]COUNTLESS LOVERS ,
under cover of the streets
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MOTHER: Mellisa Greyback (dead)
BROTHER(S): -
SISTER(S): -
OTHER: -
BLOOD STATUS: Half Breed
HOMETOWN: Yorkshire
CURRENT RESIDENCE: Yorkshire
BIOGRAPHY:
Fenrir grew up in a 3 bedroom house in Yorkshire. Both his parents were half-blood but back then only the purebloods cared about your blood status. Fenrir, like most young wizards and witches, was extremely excited when he got his letter to Hogwarts. He had heard so much about the place, he had spent most of his summer reading his books and taking advice from his dad. He remembers that morning the day he was getting on the Hogwarts express for the first time. His mother made him fresh orange juice from the oranges grown in the garden. His home always smelled of oranges. That morning was repeated 7 times. The beginning of each year.
Fenrir's time at Hogwarts was like any other, he had his accidents with magic and a laugh with his friends. However on that Christmas, his life changed. It was like any other, no storm foretelling what was about to happen, no spooky tree branches brushing against his window. He was in bed, about to drift off; it was a week before Christmas. Then it happened, a smash of glass and pain. Pain that ripped through his body like a tornado terrorising a town. Fenrir doesn't remember the next few couple of weeks just pain. His father was a nurse at St Mungos and foolishly decided to care for Fenrir himself, fearing he would be locked up. Fenrir was only fully aware of what had happened two weeks after it. He found out he could not go back to Hogwarts, he no longer belonged there. His parents tried to comfort him, but Fenrir sunk into a deep depression, until the full moon came again.
His parents knew what would happen; they thought they could use magic to contain him. Fenrir transformed for the first time. It was painful as his bones and muscles stretched and reshaped themselves into his new form. He then lost his mind, he was no longer Fenrir. The two humans that stood before him were his pray, he leapt, bits off wood held up at him. Have you ever tried to stun someone you love? They hadn't, they hesitated and Fenrir ripped them to shreds, instinctively targeting the areas in which a human is weakest. He killed them, his pain driving him on; the confusion of what was happening. He didn't know who he was, he ran, ran to find more pray.
Fenrir woke up about half a mile away from his house. His clothes were covered in blood, which must not have come from him as he only had a few minor scratches. Also the clothes were so badly ripped that he barely was able to patch them together enough to make himself decent. He didn't have his wand so trekked back home. When he got back he was freezing, shivering but the shiver that ran down his spine when he saw the door ripped open and the hall walls covered in blood had nothing to do with the chilly breeze. He ran into the house and found what was left of his parents. Fenrir was no fool; it was not hard to figure out what had happened. He slid to his knees by what was left of his mother, mixed in the blood was the smell of oranges. He wept, the tears sliding down his face. Fenrir wasn't sure how long it was, days or minutes, whichever it was they finally came. He remembers being dragged back to his feet, but then he turned on them. A feral snarl running through him as he yelled at them 'WHY DIDN'T YOU COME SOONER, YOU COULD HAVE SAVED THEM!'. He leapt at one of the wizards, only to see a flash of red and then nothing.
He woke up to be surrounded by three walls and a barred door reinforced with magic. Fenrir yelled for them to let him go. They didn't. Instead they told him he was dangerous, an animal, not fit for society and never would be. The words stung, but the image of his parents and what he had done to them stung more. The next full moon he transformed in that cage. Even in his wolf form, when he forgot the real Fenrir through the pain, even then the cage was too close, it felt like it was going to crush him, he howled into nothing. The next 2 full moons were the same and Fenrir lost track of time. He was rarely allowed out of his cage, only to be walked around another room a few times and put back in. It was one of these times, a young girl, a trainee was leading him around, he escaped, he stole her wand and broke free, and it was St Mungos he had been in. He didn’t waste time when he was out. That was when he went into hiding.
That was when he started to truly think, the wizards didn’t care. This was only proved form when he went into a town to get some food he saw another of his kind only being beaten up by a couple of wizards. Fenrir, with a smirk sent a curse at the two wizards that had them in pain. He still uses the wand he stole from the trainee from St Mungos, it worked for him so why not? He never found out what happened to his real wand. But it was thirteen inches like the one he now had so it was easy to get used to. Fenrir spent a lot of time plotting; he then started to accept his curse, as a gift. By the time he was eighteen he was using it to target people he didn’t like or had arguments with. He would station himself by certain people. He had decided if he didn’t turn at least one person every full moon then he was failing. The next step was trickier. He managed to catch up with one of his victims whose parents had rejected him after being turned. Fenrir told him of his plans, how the wizards were a cancer, evil to some points, and that they should infect more people and build an army against the Wizards and then over take them and then they would know what it is like to be treated like an animal. The boy agreed, it was Fenrir’s first true success. They parted with the same goal.
A man came to Fenrir, he had heard of how Fenrir was becoming a terrorising legend, targeting people. The man called himself Lord Voldemort. Fenrir did not particularly like the man or his ideas on how pureblood should reign supreme, and nor did Fenrir care. Voldemort gave him a promise of Victims. The thing was, Fenrir was known for targeting people but he was also wanted, wanted by the Ministry; Lord Voldemort meant he could attack people and it was easier to get away with it, not so much running. He joined, but like everything in life he was never allowed to bear the Dark Mark. Fenrir has worked for Voldemort and enjoyed his work. In fact Fenrir even started to gain some of his wolfish features in his human form. He would smirk to himself, it made him look stronger he thought. As the years went by he became more wolflike. When Voldemort was vanquished by Harry Potter, Fenrir didn’t care; it just meant he had to go back to the method of running around a lot and staying hidden apart from at the full moon. He still found his victims but only if he was sure he could get away with it. Then the Dark Lord returned and Fenrir returned to him. Fenrir was always disappointed he never got to bite that girl at the Malfoy’s. He liked children the most, as they squealed, the wizarding scum’s offspring. The battle of Hogwarts was a blood bath to remember.
Fenrir has come to realise he is not going to achieve his goal in his life time, he is however still recruiting many to his goal, and they build in secret, Fenrir hopes one day they will take over. Fenrir just likes to forget that most of his targets die or hate being a werewolf so much doesn’t live for more than a few years. Fenrir likes to think grand of himself although he lives in a rundown house in Yorkshire. His family home that still smells of oranges as they grow in the back garden.
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I HOPE IT'S GONNA MAKE ,
[/font]I HOPE IT'S GONNA MAKE ,
you notice someone like me,
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RP EXPERIENCE: 4 ish years
HOW YOU FOUND US: The Admin keeps me in a box
OTHER CHARACTERS: Ella Amelia Smith
RP SAMPLE: Look at Ella's app
Extra Note :: This app has now been gone through with a fine-toothed comb, Spell. I think I've made any changes I needed to. Vicki, so sorry it's taken me so long to do. - Jet
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OFF IN THE NIGHT ,
[/font]OFF IN THE NIGHT ,
while you live it up
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THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY CATE AKA GIRL TALKK
OF CAUTION BBY!. IF USING, LEAVE THIS CREDIT IN. CHANGES TO
COLOURS ARE PERMITTED, BUT DO NOT CHANGE LYRICS ("USE SOMEBODY"
KINGS OF LEON). ENJOY!
OF CAUTION BBY!. IF USING, LEAVE THIS CREDIT IN. CHANGES TO
COLOURS ARE PERMITTED, BUT DO NOT CHANGE LYRICS ("USE SOMEBODY"
KINGS OF LEON). ENJOY!
