Post by arthur on Apr 27, 2009 12:57:43 GMT -5
------------------------------------------------------------
I BEEN ROAMIN' AROUND ,
[/font]I BEEN ROAMIN' AROUND ,
always lookin' down at all i see
------------------------------------------------------------
JASON FOXX[/CENTER]
------------------------------------------------------------
PAINTED FACES FILL ,
[/font]PAINTED FACES FILL ,
the spaces i can't reach
------------------------------------------------------------[/CENTER]
NICKNAMES: Fox, Jason, Jay-jay(childhood name)
AGE: 23 years
D.O.B.: April 1st, 1986
ALLEGIANCE: confused
PROFESSION: no one's sure, but its rumored he owns a pub in Hogsmeade
WAND TYPE: 13¾", bloodwood with griffon feather
[/SIZE][/ul]
------------------------------------------------------------
YOU KNOW THAT I ,
[/font]YOU KNOW THAT I ,
could use somebody
------------------------------------------------------------[/CENTER]
EYE COLOUR: Hazel
HEIGHT: 5'11"
WEIGHT: 140lbs
BODY TYPE: medium build, muscular without being 'built'
VOICE: between tenor and baritone, his voice tends to drop when he's angry or frustrated and rise when he's confused or happy.
PERSONAL STYLE: A jean addict, its usually his shirts that set the tone. Varies from graphic T-shirts to Polo's, and dress shirts. He thinks vests, bows, and clip-on ties are lame. Although proud of his pure-blood heritage, Jason dislikes wizard clothes under the pretense that they are 'stuffy'. He tends to only wear them for important events.
GENERAL DESCRIPTION: Considered very attractive by most, Jason closely resembles his mother. A medium build with average height, he has enough muscle to put someone in their place without wrecking the party. While most like his smile, they claim that it gives him a little boy air thats both adorable and attractive. His dark hazel eyes are the only true indicators that he is a Foxx and transfers over into his snow leopard shape. His short dirty blonde hair has a habit of always looking messy, despite, or perhaps because of, styling. Usually clean shaven, he sometimes allows stubble to grow along his jaw, although he never lets anything grow on his upper lip due to his belief that mustaches are for old men and guys trying to be cool. Raised to the belief that he's better than most, its a common myth that he doesn't know how to look anything but confident and sure of himself. People tend to notice when he enters a room, although usually not because of the cold arrogance other purebloods emmit. Instead, people enjoy being around him because of outwardly his easy nature and natural smile.
[/SIZE][/ul]
------------------------------------------------------------
AND ALL YOU KNOW ,
[/font]AND ALL YOU KNOW ,
and how you speak
------------------------------------------------------------[/CENTER]
[li] Magic, of any kind
[/li][li] night and all associates
[/li][li] animals, including "halfbreeds"
[/li][li] especially big dogs
[/li][li] dark chocolate, spicy food
[/li][li] fire whiskey, butterbeer
[/li][li] music, clothes, books
[/li][li] flying & quidditch
[/li][li] one night stands
[/li][li] working to get where he wants
[/li][li] Charlotte & Ambrose
CHARACTER DISLIKES: too many to name
[/li][li] expectations
[/li][li] bugs & pixies
[/li][li] waking up early
[/li][li] one night stands
[/li][li] white chocolate, pizza, corn
[/li][li] milk, pumpkin juice, 'normal' hot chocolate
[/li][li] conceited, arrogant people
[/li][li] excessive vegetation (aka, botany
[/li][li] 'wizard' robes, cloakes are okay
[/li][li] snotty bratty little children
[/li][li] people who look down on animals
[/li][li] people who get what they want based on blood status
[/li][li] people who make fun of his muggle childhood, expectations, [/li][li] his father & his deceased step-mother or any mention of her,
GOALS: none, at least none he can openly discuss
BOGGART: Although he has many fears, Jason's strongest is that he'll never see Charlotte again, and that even if he did, she wouldn't be proud of the person he's become. Therefore, his boggart tends to take the shape of a very demonic and twisted looking Charlotte.
PATRONUS: Not exactly a memory of a certain incident, so much as the memory of a feeling. Charlotte used to hold him and tell him bed time stories when he was younger, and its the feeling of being safe and loved that is now his best memory and fuel for his snow leopard patronus.
DEMENTOR: When he was ripped away from Charlotte and the muggle family he knew, before he was taught about the wizarding world and could only understand that he'd never see his sister again.
AMORENTIA: Charlotte's old perfume, fresh night air, the musk of his dogs
BASIC PERSONALITY:
intelligent, talented, confused, 'cheery', pessimist, bi-polor, macbre, stubborn ...
[/SIZE][/li][/ul]
------------------------------------------------------------
COUNTLESS LOVERS ,
[/font]COUNTLESS LOVERS ,
under cover of the streets
------------------------------------------------------------[/CENTER]
MOTHER: Roslin Saltz (deceased)
BROTHER(S): Ambrose(F), Gregory(M), Marcus(M), Stephen(H-f)
SISTER(S): Charlotte(H-f), Evane(F), Maryssa(H-f)
OTHER: key: F=full sibling, H=half f=father's side M=muggle of no genetic relation
Astrid Melrose: step-mother, mudblood, Charlotte's mother, deceased
Richard Danes: step-father, muggle, married Astrid, alive somewhere
Ellis Bromium: step-mother, pureblood, married Nicholas, deceased
BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood
HOMETOWN: born in Paris, raised between houses in London, Bath, and Worcester.
CURRENT RESIDENCE: Hogsmeade, with a house in London
BIOGRAPHY: Before Jason, there was his father Nicholas.
Simply put, Nicholas didn't know how to keep it in his pants. He had a running record that didn't differentiate between pureblood, mudbloods, and muggles. It really wasn't too much of a shock when a random witch showed up claiming to be pregnant with his child. Naturally, being eighteen and frightened by how his father would react, Nicholas gave her a handful of coins and told her to never come back. Unfortunantly, she did, and brought their three year old daughter with her. This time, Nicholas's parents found out, along with his pureblood fiance. A softy for children, especially sweethearts like Charlotte, Nicholas's fiance demanded that they adopt his illegitament daughter. So handing the mudblood witch another pocketful of coins, Nicholas took in his first born and proceeded to get his wife pregnant three times in a row with eleven to thirteen months between them. First came Ambrose, then Evane, and finally the star of our story, Jason. The first two years of his life weren't very exciting, but when he was almost three, Jason's mother died in questionable circumstances. Eager to get of his embarresing 'mistake', Nicholas eagerly agreed to his new wife's (Ellis Bromium) suggestion to send the eight year old back to her mudblood mother. In the years they'd been together, Charlotte and Jason had created a close bond. When Jason threw a fit over his missing sister, the new step-mother decided to toss him out too. To her husband she claimed that he didn't resemble either of them and therefore for all Nicholas knew, his second-born son was a mudblood his "whore mother" had got on her by fratenizing with muggles. In truth, Jason looked remarkably like his mother, with very few traces of his father in him at all. Only his hazel eyes betrayed him as a Foxx.
So Jason went to live with his half-sister Charlotte and her mother Astrid when he was three. The witch was kind and rather motherly, although she did have two other little boys (Gregory & Marcus) running around her home. Both were offspring of Astrid's muggle boyfriend and both were younger than Jason. But he didn't mind too much when his entire world revolved around Char-char. Astrid might have been the mother figure in his life from age three to six, but it was Charlotte that he loved. Unfortunantly for her muggle boyfriend, now husband, Astrid died. She left him stranded with three little boys and very mature eleven year old girl. Naturally, he knew nothing that his former wife had been a witch, nor that his step-daughter and adopted son were of the non-muggle variety. In fact, it was quite alarming to him when a witch from Hogwarts, (Professor McGonagal herself) came to tell him about how his daughter and late wife were witches. In fact, he nearly fainted. As some frightened muggles opt to do, he denied his step-daughter her right to attend Hogwarts and asked the powers that be to bind her magic. Complaining, they did, and Charlotte never knew the difference. She became Jason's mother figure for the next five years, never knowing the opportunity she had missed. When Jason turned eleven, another member of the Hogwarts staff came around to tell his step-father about Hogwarts. Again, the man refused. Except, this time, knowing who Jason's real father and mother were, the wizard reported directly back to Nicholas the situation. Fortunantly, the horrid woman who had sent Jason and Charlotte away had died a year or so ago, leaving Nicholas free to accept his son back home.
After a short adjustment period where his 'real' siblings, Ambrose and Evane, showed him the wonders of the wizarding world, Jason was shipped off to Durmstrang. Although he should have gone to Hogwarts, Nicholas's father didn't trust the "addled looney" who ran the school and secretly feared the "potter brat" who went there. Jason learned a great deal at Wizard school and was properly brainwashed toward the pureblood cause. Ambrose was careful to forge a brotherly bond with him that rivaled Charlotte's. At age 15, he created his first patronus, and at age 17 he performed the complicated magic to make himself an animagus (a snow leopard). When he was 18, he followed his father and brother into the service of the Dark Lord, although he rarely actively participates.
[/SIZE][/ul]
------------------------------------------------------------
I HOPE IT'S GONNA MAKE ,
[/font]I HOPE IT'S GONNA MAKE ,
you notice someone like me,
------------------------------------------------------------[/CENTER]
RP EXPERIENCE: 4-5 years
HOW YOU FOUND US: RPGC, Spellbound's siggy ^_<
OTHER CHARACTERS: none yet!
RP SAMPLE: This is not the whole post ... My vampire character Leandros from Sanguine Skye is just meeting his human girlfriend after being apart for a couple weeks. He's trying to stay loyal to her by not having sex or drinking human blood. Its, basically, killing him.
Beautiful was the blackness imposed by his closed lids, blessed was the comforting lack of vision. The gloom in the Mezzanine hampered his vision little, allowing particular items to jump to his attention while the shadows harbored ghosts of memories he'd rather leave untouched. It brought an immediate sense of peace to brush this all away and leave behind an unsullied blackness. Something he could sink into without fear of jarring loose an unsatisfied desire or an unfulfilled lust. It was delicious, this uncompromised solemn darkness. How the limitations of the blind were a gift to their weary eyes. Only the sounds from below interrupted his retreat. If he was just a little stronger, a little more hydrated then perhaps he could create the illusion of total silence, perhaps he would be able to fool himself. But this thing he was capable of doing, tricking the senses, required sustenance that he couldn't provide. Even a week ago, when he had sank his fangs into the thief, that strong struggling body, he had not been able to weave the simplest of things. He had still been too dehydrated to create a piece of paper, to make the scent of chocolate, the sound of glasses clinking, nor the feel of his hand on another's cheek. He felt bare without this power to create, to know that as he suffered not to destroy his gift to make was taken. Was this symmetry or irony? That without causing death, he could not give life. Granted, it was never true life to a thinking being, but it was a breath into the workings of his imagination, the paint on a master's canvas or the stone beneath an artist's chisel. It had been an ability that at first was his way of money making, and then his toy in the deception of mortals. It wasn't until this time of starvation that he realized how much he enjoyed its uses, it’s simple purposes. Oh how he missed it.
Noise radiated upwards, throbbing with a violent pulse as it caught the mortals in its wake. The beat was meant to fill the body, to jerk the limbs in time and force the heart to follow along. It was the type of music those almost adults played, to flood their mind and drain the stress as their body was cut from the tangled strings of society. Its intention was to increase the adrenaline and amplify the urge between dance partners to take it to the next level. It was savage in its rhythm, and reveled in its own intoxicating primitive nature. God fearing men preached that it was the devil's music, and that it was sin to follow it, to dance with it, to listen with ears and body as it flowed both around and through you. How could something so basic and powerful be evil? Shouldn't a vampire, the devil's own earthly accomplice, know whether this type drove youths to sign their name in the Devil's book? Oh, but were vampires from the underworld of Satan's glory? Leandros had never seen a man with goat horns and a lizard tail holding out a book to him while brandishing the scepter of evil. Wouldn't a man, an immortal, remember such a crucial life changing moment as meeting Lucifer? Then again, were they not every mortal's temptation? It was said that before being cast out of heaven, God found the devil to be the most beautiful of his angles. Could it be that Leandros, as he strived to achieve goodness for the human he desired most, had demon blood coursing through him? Nonsense! Or was it? Hadn't Lucifer been pissed that God thought his human creations more glorious than his angels, that the fallen were slain when they bent to their lust for the human body? Perhaps Leandros was made from hell fire, the very essence of sin soaked into his every molecule.
Were these really the type of questions he asked of himself when trying not to interact with thoughts of Claire? A little giggle hovered in his stomach, rising to his throat only to be choked off before breaching his pale sealed lips. She was making him mad! Driving him insane to the point that he contemplated his beginnings and wondered over the existence of God and Devil! They were just personifications of the human morals of Good and Evil. He knew this, and yet he sat here in the darkness, asking questions similar to that of a philosopher priest. To hell with it all! The sound of footsteps on the stairs made every muscle in his body clench, tension rippling through him followed by a wave of stinging pain as his bloodless body cried its starvation. Now was not the time to listen to it. Squeezing his eyelids shut harder, he forced himself to listen, to cut through the pulse of the music, and the bodies, and the blood all roaring below to pick apart this noise on the steps. A light pair that made barely a sound, only the faint wisp now and again could only belong to a vampire, and then the louder clack and tumble of heels suggested a drunk female human, barely able to transverse the distance from the dance floor to the bleeding room. Another set bugged him, at first blending with the couple's, and then becoming distinct as he realized it was the frantic foot falls as someone ran down the stairs from the offices above. That would be his Claire, rushing to greet her long lost lover, unaware of the pain he was going through for her innocent heart. He should have felt spite, envy, greed, but he could only feel hunger now, it was eating him up alive.
They seemed to arrive at the same time, the couple and his lovely Claire. So light on her feet that even after sending the startled drunken human into the arms of her leech boyfriend, she was able to move around them at lightning speed. His eyes as flickered open just in time to watch the incident, to feel her gaze as she raked the room looking for him. It was electric, when he felt her latch onto him. There was no way her human eyes could see that he was looking directly at her, eye to eye, but he still felt a zing explode inside of him. Fireworks at high voltage; only the fringed end cool enough to give off the warm comforting feeling lovers were supposed to feel toward one another. The vampire allowed her to come to him, all smiles and flounces as she hurried, oblivious to everything else but him. Something stopped her a few feet away from him, her human eyes straining in the gloom to see the changes, to worry if they were real or just a trick of the awful lighting he had chosen for their meeting. For a moment she lingered, hunting out the changes in him, comparing him to her memory. Would she be able to tell how different he'd become? Her dainty foot moves closer to him, bringing the rest of her body with her and it takes all of his control not to snarl. The beast in him was rising, her blood flowing so freely beneath her healthy skin. What right did she have to demand he change himself for her? What right did she have to command him to resist his urges when she changed no part of her life to accommodate him? But every evil thought and intention died as his name was sighed from her lips, the hand forgotten in the air dropping to her side as she made him sound angelic instead of the monster he knew he was inside.
Seconds tick and he could almost see her wanting to believe that she had done this to him. And it hurt her twice as much to see him as he was than it hurt him to be like it. Jaws clench and fangs clash as he fights the urge to rise to her, to comfort her over her grief for him. To explain it wasn't as bad as it seemed, although it was likely ten times worse. His eyes catch the doubt in her's and the smallest shake of her locks as she attempts to deny the affect she's had on him. Perhaps, if it wasn't for his increased physical abilities she might have surprised him with the suddenness of her hug. It took his every self restraint to equally neither move toward or away from her embrace. She offered her neck so close to his fangs, his nostrils quivering like that of an animals as he inhaled her sweet scent, the human smell and then the miserable call that came from her thudding veins. It sang to him, the heart tapping out a code that only he understood as it begged him to fill himself on her bounty, to sustain himself with his lover's blood like it was his own. The intimacy they could share with a vampire kiss, hearts beating together as he drew her completely into himself, barely rivaled by the closeness of sex. But of course it revolted him as well, stealing away her life in droplets. He was selfish to keep her so close, to cling to her like he did, but he refused to be weak and selfish; to give in to these common desires. Everything was harder when he lacked nourishment. A human was able to think clearly when forced with an empty belly but a leech descended into waves of madness, never reaching that plateau of intellectual and intelligent thought. They lost all sense of the humanity they might have claimed. He couldn't succumb; he wouldn't!
Noise radiated upwards, throbbing with a violent pulse as it caught the mortals in its wake. The beat was meant to fill the body, to jerk the limbs in time and force the heart to follow along. It was the type of music those almost adults played, to flood their mind and drain the stress as their body was cut from the tangled strings of society. Its intention was to increase the adrenaline and amplify the urge between dance partners to take it to the next level. It was savage in its rhythm, and reveled in its own intoxicating primitive nature. God fearing men preached that it was the devil's music, and that it was sin to follow it, to dance with it, to listen with ears and body as it flowed both around and through you. How could something so basic and powerful be evil? Shouldn't a vampire, the devil's own earthly accomplice, know whether this type drove youths to sign their name in the Devil's book? Oh, but were vampires from the underworld of Satan's glory? Leandros had never seen a man with goat horns and a lizard tail holding out a book to him while brandishing the scepter of evil. Wouldn't a man, an immortal, remember such a crucial life changing moment as meeting Lucifer? Then again, were they not every mortal's temptation? It was said that before being cast out of heaven, God found the devil to be the most beautiful of his angles. Could it be that Leandros, as he strived to achieve goodness for the human he desired most, had demon blood coursing through him? Nonsense! Or was it? Hadn't Lucifer been pissed that God thought his human creations more glorious than his angels, that the fallen were slain when they bent to their lust for the human body? Perhaps Leandros was made from hell fire, the very essence of sin soaked into his every molecule.
Were these really the type of questions he asked of himself when trying not to interact with thoughts of Claire? A little giggle hovered in his stomach, rising to his throat only to be choked off before breaching his pale sealed lips. She was making him mad! Driving him insane to the point that he contemplated his beginnings and wondered over the existence of God and Devil! They were just personifications of the human morals of Good and Evil. He knew this, and yet he sat here in the darkness, asking questions similar to that of a philosopher priest. To hell with it all! The sound of footsteps on the stairs made every muscle in his body clench, tension rippling through him followed by a wave of stinging pain as his bloodless body cried its starvation. Now was not the time to listen to it. Squeezing his eyelids shut harder, he forced himself to listen, to cut through the pulse of the music, and the bodies, and the blood all roaring below to pick apart this noise on the steps. A light pair that made barely a sound, only the faint wisp now and again could only belong to a vampire, and then the louder clack and tumble of heels suggested a drunk female human, barely able to transverse the distance from the dance floor to the bleeding room. Another set bugged him, at first blending with the couple's, and then becoming distinct as he realized it was the frantic foot falls as someone ran down the stairs from the offices above. That would be his Claire, rushing to greet her long lost lover, unaware of the pain he was going through for her innocent heart. He should have felt spite, envy, greed, but he could only feel hunger now, it was eating him up alive.
They seemed to arrive at the same time, the couple and his lovely Claire. So light on her feet that even after sending the startled drunken human into the arms of her leech boyfriend, she was able to move around them at lightning speed. His eyes as flickered open just in time to watch the incident, to feel her gaze as she raked the room looking for him. It was electric, when he felt her latch onto him. There was no way her human eyes could see that he was looking directly at her, eye to eye, but he still felt a zing explode inside of him. Fireworks at high voltage; only the fringed end cool enough to give off the warm comforting feeling lovers were supposed to feel toward one another. The vampire allowed her to come to him, all smiles and flounces as she hurried, oblivious to everything else but him. Something stopped her a few feet away from him, her human eyes straining in the gloom to see the changes, to worry if they were real or just a trick of the awful lighting he had chosen for their meeting. For a moment she lingered, hunting out the changes in him, comparing him to her memory. Would she be able to tell how different he'd become? Her dainty foot moves closer to him, bringing the rest of her body with her and it takes all of his control not to snarl. The beast in him was rising, her blood flowing so freely beneath her healthy skin. What right did she have to demand he change himself for her? What right did she have to command him to resist his urges when she changed no part of her life to accommodate him? But every evil thought and intention died as his name was sighed from her lips, the hand forgotten in the air dropping to her side as she made him sound angelic instead of the monster he knew he was inside.
Seconds tick and he could almost see her wanting to believe that she had done this to him. And it hurt her twice as much to see him as he was than it hurt him to be like it. Jaws clench and fangs clash as he fights the urge to rise to her, to comfort her over her grief for him. To explain it wasn't as bad as it seemed, although it was likely ten times worse. His eyes catch the doubt in her's and the smallest shake of her locks as she attempts to deny the affect she's had on him. Perhaps, if it wasn't for his increased physical abilities she might have surprised him with the suddenness of her hug. It took his every self restraint to equally neither move toward or away from her embrace. She offered her neck so close to his fangs, his nostrils quivering like that of an animals as he inhaled her sweet scent, the human smell and then the miserable call that came from her thudding veins. It sang to him, the heart tapping out a code that only he understood as it begged him to fill himself on her bounty, to sustain himself with his lover's blood like it was his own. The intimacy they could share with a vampire kiss, hearts beating together as he drew her completely into himself, barely rivaled by the closeness of sex. But of course it revolted him as well, stealing away her life in droplets. He was selfish to keep her so close, to cling to her like he did, but he refused to be weak and selfish; to give in to these common desires. Everything was harder when he lacked nourishment. A human was able to think clearly when forced with an empty belly but a leech descended into waves of madness, never reaching that plateau of intellectual and intelligent thought. They lost all sense of the humanity they might have claimed. He couldn't succumb; he wouldn't!
[/SIZE][/ul]
------------------------------------------------------------
OFF IN THE NIGHT ,
[/font]OFF IN THE NIGHT ,
while you live it up
------------------------------------------------------------[/CENTER]
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!