Post by chi on Sept 25, 2010 19:36:52 GMT 10
BLAINE WESLEY VANDERBILT
NAME ;; Blaine Wesley Vanderbilt
NICKNAMES ;; His mum used to call him Blainey-poo when he was little, but otherwise, it's just Blaine.
AGE ;; twenty-five
DATE OF BIRTH ;; january 10th 1975
BLOOD STATUS AND RACE ;; Pureblood
YEAR ;; /
HOUSE ;; Ex-Slytherin
OCCUPATION ;; None.
SEXUAL ORIENTATION ;; Bi-confused.
PLAY-BY ;; Andrew Cooper
(I usually do my personality + history in first person. If this is a problem, just let me know <3)
BLAINE is ;;
--- SARCASTIC ;; People tell me all the time that I'm way too sarcastic most of the time. I can't really help it because it just comes naturally to me, especially if someone just says something so ludicrous that it's pleading for a sarcastic remark. It's not my fault that some people are just ignorant. Because I'm a sarcastic person, I can spot irony and sarcasm from a mile away. And when I use it, it's okay.. but other people? I feel like they're taking the piss out of me and I can get downright nasty if you tick me off.
--- QUIET ;; Surprisingly, I'm a really quiet person. At school, I used to hang out with the popular crowd, but I was always the quiet one who just used to go along with what my friends were doing. I'm not a very talkative person and will very rarely strike up conversation with someone I hardly know. If someone starts talking to me, I'll probably go along with the conversation, but otherwise I tend to be quite reserved. To be frank, I find it irritating to be in the company of someone who is always talking and is just a very loud person in general.
--- DISLOYAL ;; After the stunt I pulled after graduating from Hogwarts, most people know not to trust me. I can never seem to make up my mind most of the time, resulting in having my loyalties lying in more than one place. I'm not the type of guy someone would choose to confide in, because I'd probably tell your secrets to someone else if it works in my benefit. Yeah, I'm pretty much a complete asshole. I'm not very trusting either; that's one of the things I learnt when I was a Death Eater, that you can only ever trust yourself. I'm very self-dependant now, so I don't really expect people to depend on me either.
BLAINE'S patronus is a ;; wolf
BLAINE'S boggart takes the form of ;; himself, back in his cell in Azkaban.
BLAINE adores ;;
- Dark Arts
- Potions
- Reading
- Alcohol
- Snakes
- Quidditch
- Chinese food
- Home-made muffins
- Working out
- Sex
- Surfing
BLAINE abhors ;;
- Dementors
- Azkaban
- Harry Potter
- Feeling overheated
- Singing
- Mud
- Chocolate
- Dancing
- Clubbing
- Slugs
Can I just start by saying that I have no idea why my name is Blaine? I mean, it's hardly a common name nowadays, let alone twenty-five years ago. But I'm not complaining. I quite like it, actually, because it's unique. Moving on. As I said, I was born twenty-five years ago, to Amelie and Tyrant Vanderbilt. My father's side of the family was exceedingly wealthy, so when my grandparents died, we inherited the family fortune. I'm not complaining about that either.
Because I was the only child, I got my mother's full, undivided attention all the time, and my father's too, whenever he was actually home from work. I was spoilt rotten and I loved it. So, as you can probably imagine, I wasn't too pleased with the news of my mother's pregnancy. I was only three years old at the time, but the moment my parents came home from the hospital holding my sister, Amelia, I instantly hated her. I remember saying 'She's ugly, can't you take her back to the hospital?'
But my resentment towards my sister quickly faded, especially once my mother started working. It was then that I realised that she was practically the only person left in my life, since my parents were hardly ever home anymore. We were raised by nannies, and this close-ness with Amelia soon led to my being fully protective over her.
Much to my parents' concern, I didn't show any signs of being a wizard while I was growing up. I obviously knew that I was meant to be a wizard, but no matter how hard I tried to use magic, I just couldn't. My parents became even more worried once my sister started doing magic before me, and I felt like I had disgraced the whole family. The son of a Tyrant Vanderbilt.. a squib? Even the thought seemed ludicrous, but it was completely humiliating.
Dumbledore, however, must have known better than all of us because when I was eleven I received my acceptance letter into Hogwarts, confirming that I was, in fact, a wizard. Relief washed over my parents like rainwater and I was just pleased that I hadn't let them down. The next step to making my father proud was to be sorted into Slytherin, which was his house in his time at Hogwarts. The Sorting Hat didn't even touch my head before it shouted out 'Slytherin'. My sister followed in my footsteps three years later and was sorted into Slytherin too.
I had a pretty good time at Hogwarts. My grades were average, though I was brilliant at Potions .. to this day, I'm not sure whether that's because I was one of Snape's favourites, or because I was actually good at the subject. All I know is that one day, Snape and I got talking about the Dark Arts, and he took a special liking to me. From that day on, I always had some weird fascination with the Dark Arts too.
I graduated from Hogwarts with, as usual, average grades in my NEWTs. Almost as soon as I left, my parents started pressuring me to decide what I was going to do with my future. My father wanted me to pursue a career at the Ministry, like himself, whereas my mother decided she wanted me to be a Healer at St Mungo's, since I was so good at Potions. All the pressure drove me insane and I eventually rebelled. I left Amelia a note, telling her that I couldn't handle it anymore, that I loved her and I was sorry for leaving her, but I just couldn't cope with all the stress any more. And then I left, breaking all forms of contact with my family.
I didn't know what I was thinking. I was in a complete rut; I was seventeen years old, jobless (hence, no money) and completely alone. I don't know what I would have done if he hadn't found me. I'm talking about the Dark Lord, of course. He didn't technically find me himself, one of his Death Eaters did, and I was more than happy to be one of their recruits.
It sort of goes without saying that once the Battle of Hogwarts came around, I was on Voldemort's side. My family were all forced into being on his side too, although I could tell they weren't happy about it, and I knew I was a traitor. But I didn't care.
I assumed my sister would be fighting on the same side too, but during the battle I noticed her fighting one of my friends. I yelled at him to stop, telling him that he had made a mistake and that Amelia was on our side. But he assured me that she wasn't. That's when I had to make a decision. Keep my loyalty to Voldemort and let my sister die? Or kill my friend to save my sister? I hadn't seen her in years, but I couldn't watch her die.. I wouldn't be able to live with the guilt.
So I jumped in to save her, killing the other Death Eater in the process. And then I ran. Voldemort would find out what I had done and, if he caught me, he would kill me. But it turns out the Ministry caught me first, and they shipped me off to Azkaban, along with the surviving Death Eaters.
Life in Azkaban was tough. I shared my cell with another guy called Bryan who was my age. He had come over to the Dark Side only recently, so I had never met him before. We got really close.. too close. In fact, it was in prison that I started questioning my sexual orientation, because I couldn't deny that I had feelings for the guy, although I don't know whether that was because I had been starved of contact with a woman for so long.
Either way, it didn't last long, because Bryan went on a hunger strike because he was so miserable. He refused to eat and he eventually died, only a couple of months before I was released. I've only just got out of there now. Regarding Byran and all.. well, I can't bring myself to call myself gay, so until further notice I'm just 'confused'. Now, I'm just going to try and lead a normal life.
Nate missed the simplicity of his childhood. Everything was so carefree when they were little, with no one being forced to date the other, no one getting pregnant, no one-night stands. Back then, Nate didn't realise just how horrible society was. True, he'd always been different, and he'd always had a hard time with trying to fit in with his family. But he'd only started to realise how different he really was when he was around twelve. He found it ironic that now he stood there, reminiscing his past, whereas when they were little, all they'd wanted to do was grow up.
He smiled when Pero mentioned his girlfriend. "She works at the hotel, right?" he guessed. He had seen Pero talking to one of the chefs on occasion, although he had never paid much attention to their little exchanges, other than occasionally shouting at them to stop wasting time. He was pretty sure he'd complained about his food to Pero's girlfriend, telling her it wasn't good enough or something of the sort. Really, the food was excellent, but making a complaint just put the cherry on top of his rich snob act.
He pouted at what Sam said. "Hey!" he protested indginantly. "The only mess I made last time was when I cracked the egg too hard. And when I spilt some of the orange juice. And when I dropped the pan on the floor." He paused, feeling like a fool. "And when I forgot to turn off the hob. But otherwise, your kitchen was spick and span."
He followed Pero and Sam into the kitchen and raised an eyebrow when Sam handed him a small book. He flicked through the pages as she told them that it contained the recipe for pancakes and told them to get started. "Wait, what?" he said in confusion as Sam kissed his cheek. "You mean you're not going to help us? What part of the word amateur do you not understand?" He let out a laugh, hoping she was kidding. He could just about throw together bacon and eggs with Sam's help. But pancakes without Sam's help? Not so much.
Once it was clear that Sam had no intention of helping the two boys, Nate straightened up and cleared his throat. "Right, Pero, let's show her how it's done," he said grinning. He looked at Sam. "So while we're making the best breakfast you'll ever have, what are you going to be doing?"
He put the book on the counter, open on the page with the pancake recipe, so both he and Pero would be able to refer to it. He noticed Pero had already started getting out all the supplies, so he took out a bowl and decided to focus on the eggs. Beat the eggs. How the hell was he supposed to do that? He turned to Sam and was about to ask her, but he stopped himself. He was too proud, and wanted to prove to her that he could manage without her. He opened the utensil drawer, looking for something resembling a hammer to beat the eggs with.
The only thing he found was a nutcracker .. which, of course, he didn't know was only used for nuts. As far as he knew, it resembled a hammer, and the only possible way to beat eggs would be with a hammer, right? Right. So he placed the two eggs on the counter and shamelessly started whacking them with the nutcracker until they were completely smashed. He scooped up the result -- shell and all -- into the bowl and walked up to Pero. "Okay, I beat the eggs. What next?"
Hey there! I'm Chi. I'm fifteen, and I've been been role playing for almost six years. I found LMCI through Caution. My favorite Harry Potter is Goblet of Fire.
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