Post by EVAN NICOLAS ROSIER on Dec 30, 2010 21:00:47 GMT -5
- - EVAN NICOLAS ROSIER
I drilled a wire through my cheek and let it down and out my sleeve.[/size]
[/center]FULL NAME:Evan Nicolas Rosier
NAME MEANING:[/size] Evan: Noble Of Birth. Nicolas: Victory of the people. Rosier: is the name of a fallen angel. a kind of patron devil of tainted love and seduction.
NICKNAMES:[/size] Evie-poo, Romeo.
BIRTHDAY:[/size]25th August, 1959
AGE:[/size] 17
GENDER:[/size] Male
PLACE OF BIRTH:[/size] London, England
YEAR:[/size] 6th
BLOOD:[/size] Pureblood
SEXUAL ORIENTATION:[/size] Undecided
PARENTS:[/size] Both Decased. Marie Rosier, David Rosier
SIBLINGS:[/size] None
SPOUSE:[/size] None
CHILDREN:[/size] None...hopefully. :3
OTHER RELATIVES:[/size] None[/blockquote]
WAND:[/size] Length: 11 inches, Wood: Hazel, Core: Dragon Heartstring
HOUSE:[/size] Slytherin
BEST SUBJECTS:[/size] Potions
WORST SUBJECTS:[/size] Transfiguration
AFFILIATION:[/size] Death Eater supporter
BEST MEMORY:[/size] Murdering his parents.
WORST MEMORY:[/size] The dreams after he killed them.
PATRONUS:[/size] Wolf
AMORTENTIA:[/size] Rain, dark spices.
BOGGART:[/size] Dying
[/blockquote]
HAIR:[/size] Color: Black. Style: Very done up, out there. Length: middle of the shoulder blades.
EYES:[/size]Crystal blue and gray sometimes. sort of almond shaped
BUILD:[/size] 5'10, 145, slim/slender..
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES:[/size] The make-up he does, and ear piercings.
STYLE OF DRESS:[/size] Always black, always long sleeved shirts and combat boots.
PLAYBY:[/size] Andy Sixx[/blockquote]
HISTORY:[/size] evan rosier's father was a death eater and also a bit of a drunk. as a child, evan's parents offered him very conflicting opinions on his life. while his father insisted that evan must not become a death eater under any circumstances, his mother said that becoming a death eater was the only way evan could ever earn respect. over the years evan learned that his mother had pushed his father into becoming a death eater for the same reason that she was trying to push her son into it - respect. his mother told him that her father had been a 'blood traitor' and no one had respected him at all. though evan listened to his father's advice and nodded respectfully, he found that he agreed more with his mother. after all, if people didn't respect him, how would he get anything out of life? as time went on, both of his parents became more and more aggressive with him and when evan disagreed with his father, mr. rosier would hit him. evan's mother took to hitting him with various cooking ware - pots, pans, ladles or whatever else she happened to be holding - any time he seemed to be turning in his father's direction and eventually evan developed a hard shell. he no longer listened to either of them, but instead nodded calmly and said 'yes, sir' or 'yes, ma'am' to every question.
it was this hardness that made evan rather mean. on the train to hogwarts he made rude comments to the women who popped their heads in to ask if they wanted any sweets and he mocked alpheus avery over everything the boy said. when he was sorted into slytherin he took it to mean that he was, indeed, supposed to become a death eater and that is exactly what he did. he struck up a cautious friendship with lucius malfoy and the others and was crueler even than bellatrix. he tormented everyone, even those who considered themselves his friends, and, though many girls flirted with him, he rejected them harshly and laughed at their advances. unlike the others, evan is so completely committed to his life style that he has already received a dark mark and has already killed more than one person.
LIKES:[/size]
• LIKE ONE
[/size] - Tormenting people: He has a sadistic sense of right and wrong. So to entertain himself, he teases people around him. He is not biased to gender, age, year, or house. • LIKE TWO[/size] - Ecstasy: Evan is the classic addict. He started the drug when he was around his fourth year and hasn't stopped since. It keeps him from more frequent violent outbursts.
• LIKE THREE[/size] - Daniel Hughes: His best friend. He doesn't know why he likes him so much. He keeps him steady on his feet in the times he can't take people anymore.
• LIKE FOUR[/size] - Cigarettes and Alcohol: His favorite combination on days where there is no class and he just wants to relax his mind. He'll often spend hours by himself drinking and writing, and of course, smoking.
• LIKE FIVE[/size] - Naughty Things: He has a very dirty mind. It's quite a maze in there, actually. He enjoys making sexual comments at people. Either because they get grossed out by it, or enjoy it and find it funny. No one really knows whether he is serious or not. He likes to keep it that way though. [/right]
DISLIKES:[/size]
• DISLIKE ONE
[/size] - Mudbloods: He was raised as any pureblood. Hate one who isn't pure like you. So, he does. He does not wish to change it either. It makes things easier for him to grasp onto when angry at someone. • DISLIKE TWO[/size] - Redundancy - He hears everything. So in his eyes, there is no need to repeat it. It's gets him incredibly frustrated when he's sitting there, listening, and someone just keeps going on.
• DISLIKE THREE[/size] - Any person below fifth year: He feels that kids are stupid and seriously need a kick in the face sometimes. He knows he was that age once but still. They just keep getting worse every year.
• DISLIKE FOUR[/size] - Up-beat and "morning" people: For god sakes. There is no such thing as a morning person! NO. He hates those people who are all peppy in the morning because he likes his sleep very much and anyone who disagrees with that is a dolt. And they need to be locked away.
• DISLIKE FIVE[/size] - Essays: He writes a lot anyway, what is the point of a damn essay? Doing sheets of work in class, then homework, then a three page certain word count paper on whatever you just wrote 5200 words about a couple hours before that? Ones hand starts to hurt after that, y'know. [/right]
STRENGTHS:[/size]
• STRENGTH ONE
[/size] - Deducing: He constantly reads between the lines. To him, a statement is something to broken down and translated into what was really supposed to be said. Or what wanted to be said. That bit gets him hated, but he doesn't care.• STRENGTH TWO[/size] - Making people see their own truths: This sort of goes with deducing. In a way he tells the person what they really wanted to say. Or he just simple tells them the truth about them self that they didn't even know until he says something. He was always like that and it always got him in trouble.
• STRENGTH THREE[/size] - Self Control: He has a lot of problems. He's just one effed up individual and he learned to control a lot of what he wants to do and his temper, which is very short. Sometimes he loses it but most of the time, it's tied down.
[/right]
WEAKNESSES:[/size]
• WEAKNESS ONE
[/size] – Temptation: He takes temptation as a challenge. Like a game that has to be won and he will give into it pretty quickly. That will be his downfall.• WEAKNESS TWO[/size] – Violent Outbursts: Again, he's very angry. At everything. He hides it most of the time by smart alec comments or silence. Sometimes though it becomes too much and he just..explodes.
• WEAKNESS THREE[/size] – Ecstasy: It's his strength, but also his weakness. Without it he is strung tight and twitchy. It literally hurts him when he runs out and he has to get more before he goes insane.
PERSONALITY: [/size] Evan is very cruel, calculated and watchful. He's just like the person your mother warned you about. Who will get you into the worst trouble and leave you stranded on the side of the road without a second thought.
[/blockquote]
ALIAS:[/size] Nah. Evan is good. Or rather, Rosier.
AGE: [/size]19
EXPERIENCE: [/size] Since I was 13. So 6 years.
HOW DID YOU FIND US: [/size] I FOUND YOU ON MYSPACE. Like. When the group was starting. :3
[/blockquote][/size]
Full lips parted to take a hitched breath, just as the pale hands reached down to touch the faces of two dead before him. Their bodies were getting cold, their eyes were wide with the fear they had just before their hearts stopped, almost in unison. They'd been so afraid. He'd been just...elated. Their were spatters of blood on his hands that looked as if someone had a canvas and just threw the red paint on it in anger and frustration with their brush. It was sick. Death stunk. The smell burned his nose but he didn't care. There was something trickling down his cheek and he reached up to wipe it away and found that it was a tear.
Evan Rosier had always been twisted. Well, not always. From the time he was about six. It wasn't his fault. His father was abusive and his mother was a drunk. Always drilling it into his head that anything not pure was something to be scoffed at or murdered. Mostly murdered though. Maybe that's why when he got older he realized that they themselves were not pure. They were not good enough to serve under Voldemort. They were weak. He hated them and longed to see them die. He didn't want it to be easy. Didn't want it to be as if they died peacefully. They had to suffer. Just as they made him suffer.
So he'd come home one day during the summer with a sick grin on his face and his body on edge. He felt like it was wired and electric. Every single sound made him crane his head. They weren't home. Most likely at a bar, getting wasted where they'd come home and argue, blame it on all him that they got removed from the Death Eaters. He waited in he dining room, a kitchen knife sitting on the table in front of him. Waited so still, except for the occasional movement of his head or eyes. He knew they'd be home soon, smelling of cigarettes and firewhiskey. Finally...they came through the door.
As soon as they saw him, they started. "You rotten little bastard! Where have you been all day?!" That was his mother. "What are you doing with a knife, Evan? Going to stab us then? You don't have the balls, boy." His father. The voices were unsteady and slurred. He just stared down at the knife, looking at their reflections in the metallic surface. Every single breath he took was measured. It had to be the perfect timing. Absolutely had to. He did not speak a word, just let them scream.
"Come on! Get up! You think you're better? Better than anyone because you've gone and spoken with the Dark Lord? Think he really cares about you? NO ONE CARES ABOUT-" The flash was quick, the blade went into his stomach easily. "...f*ck you." he growled out. His mother screamed, it sounded off in the distance. Even though she was right there. His ears were ringing. He didn't care anymore. Blood dripped from the utensil as the body dropped to the floor and a dark red pool began to surround him. He turned on the woman and gazed steadily at her. His face went from serious to sadistic in a second and she turned to run, and he launched forward. His hand went down and the blade went in her back. Another scream before she fell too.
He dragged her next to his father and flipped her over, staring at her face. He didn't know how long he stood there with the bloody blade in his hand. He slowly started to laugh. Then he threw the knife down to the floor and leaned down, touching their skin as tears rolled down his cheeks.
Evan Rosier had always been twisted. Well, not always. From the time he was about six. It wasn't his fault. His father was abusive and his mother was a drunk. Always drilling it into his head that anything not pure was something to be scoffed at or murdered. Mostly murdered though. Maybe that's why when he got older he realized that they themselves were not pure. They were not good enough to serve under Voldemort. They were weak. He hated them and longed to see them die. He didn't want it to be easy. Didn't want it to be as if they died peacefully. They had to suffer. Just as they made him suffer.
So he'd come home one day during the summer with a sick grin on his face and his body on edge. He felt like it was wired and electric. Every single sound made him crane his head. They weren't home. Most likely at a bar, getting wasted where they'd come home and argue, blame it on all him that they got removed from the Death Eaters. He waited in he dining room, a kitchen knife sitting on the table in front of him. Waited so still, except for the occasional movement of his head or eyes. He knew they'd be home soon, smelling of cigarettes and firewhiskey. Finally...they came through the door.
As soon as they saw him, they started. "You rotten little bastard! Where have you been all day?!" That was his mother. "What are you doing with a knife, Evan? Going to stab us then? You don't have the balls, boy." His father. The voices were unsteady and slurred. He just stared down at the knife, looking at their reflections in the metallic surface. Every single breath he took was measured. It had to be the perfect timing. Absolutely had to. He did not speak a word, just let them scream.
"Come on! Get up! You think you're better? Better than anyone because you've gone and spoken with the Dark Lord? Think he really cares about you? NO ONE CARES ABOUT-" The flash was quick, the blade went into his stomach easily. "...f*ck you." he growled out. His mother screamed, it sounded off in the distance. Even though she was right there. His ears were ringing. He didn't care anymore. Blood dripped from the utensil as the body dropped to the floor and a dark red pool began to surround him. He turned on the woman and gazed steadily at her. His face went from serious to sadistic in a second and she turned to run, and he launched forward. His hand went down and the blade went in her back. Another scream before she fell too.
He dragged her next to his father and flipped her over, staring at her face. He didn't know how long he stood there with the bloody blade in his hand. He slowly started to laugh. Then he threw the knife down to the floor and leaned down, touching their skin as tears rolled down his cheeks.
THIS APPLICATION WAS MADE BY ALICE WINS.AT.LIFE FOR MAGICAL MISFITS AND ONLY MAGICAL MISFITS.
IN OTHER WORDS, HANDS OFF THE MERCHANDISE.
IN OTHER WORDS, HANDS OFF THE MERCHANDISE.
