♥ MONTAGUE, mathias athanese

[MATHIAS ATHANESE MONTAGUE]

MATHIAS ATHANESE MONTAGUE
“ but remember when i moved in you, and the holy ghost was moving too
and every breath we drew was hallelujah ”

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TOTALLY TWO-FACED
you,you,you

NAME: erica.
AGE: fifteen.
EXPERIENCE: like four or five years.
HOW DID YOU FIND US: advertisement.
WHY THIS CHARACTER?: i've always wanted to play a montague.
WILL YOU KEEP US ALIVE?: i'm no doctor, but i'm all up for it. ;]

READ ME LIKE A BOOK
the basics of your character

FULL NAME: "Mathias Athanese Montague."
NAME ORIGIN:

“My name can be completely credited towards my father - the proud French man that he is, decided to give me a name to match. Although, I’m inclined to believe that he had a bit of an error in my first name. Mathias, from my understanding, is Greek in origin - ‘gift of god,’ I do believe is its meaning; my father apparently had I expectations for his second born. He was corrected though, in my middle name - Athanese. It is the French deviation of yet another Greek name, meaning ‘immortal.’ And thus, we come along to Montague - the infamous surname. Its origins are found in Old French, ‘pointed mountain,’ or so I’ve been told, is its meaning. I think it’s rather apparent that my father had his head held impeccably high as he held me in the hospital that particular night. I do hope that I’ll live up to these ungodly expectations.”

AGE: "I'm currently twenty-six, and I'm almost enjoying it."
BIRTHDAY: "I was born on the Fourteenth of December in the year of 1980."
AFFILIATION: “As was expected upon my birth and by my pretentious family name - I am, inevitably, a Death Eater. I would expect that to be almost common knowledge.”
BLOOD STATUS: “As unimpressive as this might seem, thanks to the bold faced audacity of my father, I am half-blooded. Had the fool not desired to marry for beauty and certain sex-appeal, I’m sure he would’ve been quite content with my grandparent’s choice in potential spouse - a fair looking pureblooded female. However, I’ve been cursed in this way - it’s something I’ve learned to overlook.”
MARRITAL STATUS: “Currently, I am contently married to a certain Daphne Evon Montague. I admire her in the highest of ways - I was lucky my parents had such a keen eye out for my betrothed.”

CAN’T RESIST WHO’S STARING BACK
the gorgeous appearance

EYES:
“My eyes are that striking and so rarely found blue. Always a little on the squinted side, they seem to be looking over things in that skeptical manner I’ve come to possess. None-the-less, they’re perfectly adequate to keep a woman staring for days and days, trying to figure out the mystery behind the man. Heavy on the lids, and crinkling at the smirk - I’ve always been rather fond of my eyes, probably because they’re not expected from someone of my family line. I was almost disappointed when I realized I was the only one lacking that lovely emerald color.”

FACE SHAPE:
“My face is shaped in a rather interesting manner, actually. Seemingly oval, I guess you’d call it - but there’s distortion, that beauty in imperfection. With highly raised cheekbones, they seem to disrupt the fluency of the oval. Around my eyes, because of these cheek bones, you’ll have to break your concentration from the circular pattern for a moment before returning around my jaw area and meeting, full circle, at my chin - not entirely too sculpted, but enjoying a slight amount of curve. I look a tad on the rugged side - I think that’s what you’d called it anyway.”

HAIR:
“Brown would be my inevitable hair coloring considering both of my parents were blessed with chestnut-colored locks. My mother, being Italian, would undeniably pass this particular trait onto her son. My father, being French, could’ve passed something much different, considering he’s one of three brunettes upon his family line. I’m not disappointed with what I received, though. Blond is too much of a pretty-boy color and I’ve always had the belief that red is a little distasteful -- too vibrant, I think. And well, I’m just not overly fond of black. I keep my hair short - concise and to the point - probably because I find no time to style it. It naturally brushes upwards on one side, giving the appearance that I do take time out of my rather busy schedule to style it. I prefer to address it as ‘bed head,’ actually.”

BODY TYPE:
“Body type has always been a man’s vanity, and I, sadly, am no exception. I take rather excellent care of the body that was given to me - making sure to keep a slim frame and a muscular build. Now, I’ll be honest here and tell you that I’m not exactly body-building material and never will be, nor do I particularly want to be. I just like to keep myself up to standards. I’m not about being a macho-man, or whatever the phrase is. I’m just about a clean-cut look, much the way I was brought up. Rests assure, you’ll find quite a low fat percentage on this body. For both the sake of my wife and myself I like to keep in impeccable physical sake.”

HEIGHT/WEIGHT:
“Height-wise, I’m quite large. Towering at six foot one, I’ve always found it a bit funny that Daphne is only barely fight feet and a half. I weight in around a decent weight - I’m not undernourished, I think I’m about right where I should be.”

PLAY-BY: andrew freakin cooper <333

LEAVE THE BOURBON ON THE SHELF
the shining personality

LIKES:

daphne evon montague
his unborn child, for the most part
his father, they've always been particulary close
his brother, they've also always been on good terms
cigarettes, he's been a rather long-term addict
fine wine - fermentation is always an excellent thing
tailored suits - armani and dulce and his current favorites
clutter - when things are clean, he gets lost
losing himself in this thoughts, it's one of his many appeals
books and dark coffee - it's his inner hipster
getting away from his homelife sometimes - it makes him feel suffocated
nightclubs and pubs - drink away your problems, meet people you'll forget
money -- mathias loves his money, and he makes quite a lot of it
an epicurean lifestyle, daphne and himself live rather comfortably, he won't lie
spoiling his wife - he likes to her to know that he adores her
free-spirited people, he really likes those artsy types
coffee, he needs something to wake him up in the morning
sleeping pills, he's taken to the habit of using them as a way of avoiding daphne
messy hair - like we've said before, clean things sort of freak him out
the renaissance - it was poetic, in a beautiful sort of way. the art rocked.
sex - whatever kind it might be
traveling, he hates to stay cooped up in one place for too long
france and italy - his countries of family origin
spending time with daphne - he loves her, we got it.
when he can tell that there are other men grazing over his woman - approval

DISLIKES:

cleanliness, it sort of freaks him out
people who are too uptight about everything
the fact that his unborn child might be the prophecy
daphne when she's pregnant and needy and slightly annoying
occasionally his job - it's so demanding and he doesn't like to be pushed
feeling like he has to stay constantly in london
people who spend too much time on their apperances - if uneeded, of course
an excessive of jewelry on a woman, it distracts
too much perfume - he gets a headache
not having his cigarettes, it makes him a tad bit irritable
crying children, they get annoying and he doesn't have the patience
not having any money, it makes him feel vulnerable
people who gossip - it's a bit of a dying art
those that don't appreciate the finer things in life - get some taste
other men in daphne's life, he likes to think he can provide everything for her
yuppie, business-type people - they're a drag in both daily life and personality
stupid people - they're a waste of time to talk to, making them utterly useless
people who can't carry on a conversation, social skills are very important
people who can't enjoy a good party - let loose, have fun, live life

QUIRKS:

he brushes his hand through his hair when he's thinking of something to say
when he's frustrated he'll ball his hand into a fist or hit it against his side
you'll know he's annoyed, because he'll rub at his ear
usually finds himself involuntarily smiling when he's with his adoring wife
shakes his head around promptly ten times after rolling over in bed in the morning
he listens and rolls back and forth on his heels, it might be rude - but it's a habit

WEAKNESSES:

he's stubborn, and of course, he won't admit it
he's unrealistic, he wants things that sometimes just don't happen
sometimes he doesn't really care, and sometimes people misinterpret that
he's really skeptical, he always has questions and doesn't trust easily
he has an issue with expressing emotions - he doesn't like baggage
his lifestyle, or at least once the child comes - it's not home-like
he has a slight problem with devotion. he gets bored rather easily.

STRENGTHS:

he has a determination and drive. he wants something, he does it
he's a people person, he can talk to people - people trust him
he's smart, he wasn't top of his class, but he knows what he's talking about
his position in the social world - he knows people and has done well for himself
he can keep his wife satisfied, and living well. he can give her what she pleases
he's good looking, it helps in several areas, he'll assure you of that much

FEARS:

he won't be able to provide for his family
he won't be able to love his wife forever, as he promised at their wedding
his lifestyle will totally destruct once a child is brought into his life
he'll lose everything he's ever worked to get
his child will never be born and daphne will be hurt in the process
he'll turn into everything that he's aspired not to be
he'll ruin his family by getting bored with daphne or his life

GOALS:

to be able to start his own family legacy with his beautiful wife
to be able to raise a child and to keep himself the way he currently is
to raise his child in the way that he wishes - to live his lifestyle
to stay seemingly close with his family members, they are blood and all
to remain faithful to daphne despite temptation and to stay amused with her
not to have an overabundance of children, he'd find that annoying

ERISED:

"I'd like to live the most comfortable life possible with my wife and child, or possibly, children. I mean, at this point in life there's not really anything else long-term that I could wish to aspire towards."

DEMENTOR:

“Let’s play a game,”

The shuffling and restlessness that had once occupied the room were quickly dissolved with those very four words. Instead, it was replaced with anticipation and eagerness - the boiling sensation that was filling the pits of their stomachs in waiting. Slytherin Common Room gatherings were nothing to take lightly. These gatherings were what either branded you as socially declined, or brought you forth to a whole new step on the social ladder - likewise, these events were not to taken with no simple thought train. Mathias knew this, and he held it on that mind marquee of his as he joined the forming circle. He had been sorted into Slytherin the previous year knowing he had come with disadvantages - no prestigious name to his belt and no ultimately fabulous relationships with the high social British families - he knew he had networking to do, his father had told him so upon moving to Britain. This game, whatever it might possibly be, would be pivotal. These people - pureblooded, closely knit, almost utterly distasteful - these were the people that he needed to impress. Mathias, having grown up far away from the world of Britain’s society rules, held none of these traits. His epicenter of society was back in France, and those people were useless to him now. The British were garish, dragged - boring almost. But none-the-less, he was here now and had to forget that certain flair of the French.

The game chosen was that of Truth or Dare - simple enough. And the rules established, or rather lack there of, limited the game to the imagination of those playing it. Having known most of the players for about a year, he knew what to expect and had no particularly high expectations. The dares were raunchy and the truths were bitter revenge - it was what anyone would expect from the venomous Slytherin household. However, that was until it came to be Mathias’ turn. He was a little unsure, however; of what to expect from them upon himself. He had yet to socially explore those of high social standing, and almost had no inclination to ever do so. This wasn’t because Mathias was shy, but rather because he felt no need to take in friendships with people he wasn’t overly fond of. He wasn’t fond of those four or five children he had observed to rule the house, and because of this, he felt no need to make strong relations with any of them.

“Truth or dare?”

The blond had asked the question, the rather abrupt one. Mathias had sat at the same table as him in Divinations and had already developed quite an idea of him. He was purely British, and that was all Mathias had to comment. He held that devilish snare and knew exactly what he wanted and would do whatever it took to get it - a dangerous quality to possess. This was no boy to have in disfavor of you, and Mathias was almost sure of this.

“Truth”

The choice was made lightly and Mathias was a tad skeptical of his choice. He glanced towards the boy, who appeared to be conversing with his ‘inner circle.’ Mathias leaned in closer, but couldn’t quite come to understand any of their whispering and gibberish. He did however, hear the occasional chuckle. Perhaps this would be something he could cope with - nothing of too extreme significance. It would be something that would be funny and trivial for all of two seconds and be forgotten the next day. Yes, this would be it. Mathias readied himself as he sat upon the dungeon floor and awaited the cold voice that would decide his social future - maybe. And luckily, it took all about four minutes before the blond was sizing him up again, brushing his hair from his face, and sitting himself atop his knees before giving the final summit. He nodded in Mathias’ direction in asking of whether or not he was sure of his choice. Mathias nodded back, knowing perfectly well that even if he hadn’t been ready he’d be facing the plunge anyway. These Slytherins, this was the way they operated - courteously but only because these were the manners they had been taught as they were young. Yes, they always had other intentions in mind.

“Mathias, we’ve all been wondering...”

He paused for dramatic effect. God, you could almost hear the room swell as they took in a fresh breath.

“You see, we’ve heard things about you. But you know, we don’t really know much about you at all.”

One of the girls on the opposing side of the circle let out a small chuckle and the blond turned abruptly to give her a reprimanding look. She blushed and quickly returned to her statue-like state after having tossed her head backwards in attempt to brush back short brown locks.

“So, we’ve decided to make our decision on one simple matter. A matter of blood.”

Mathias knew where this was going, and was upset that he hadn’t been ballsy and chosen dare. He had forgotten that the high society of London was all about blood lines and how pure they were. France had been much different - there it wasn’t about the blood of your ancestry, but rather the wealth, accomplishments and over splendor of those that had come before you. And quite frankly, Mathias wasn’t as pure as he’d have liked to have been. However, he’d quickly learned to forget this small aspect about himself. This was though, until this very moment. His father had been of absolute pureblood - a family that had yet to be contaminated with any type of muggle filth. And this nice little fact was true, though, until Mathias’ father had married his mother. He had married her out of love, or rather, out of lust. She was seven years younger than him and seemingly one of the world’s most beautiful - or so she had been voted in some magazine. An Italian vixen at her finest - yes, she had lured him in with those sultry lips and that curvaceous body. The only thing they hadn’t explored before marriage and child birth was that of their blood lineage. Yes, Emilia had forgotten to mention that her blood simply didn’t mention his. Of course, Mathias’ grandparents had been furious and much had to be done from preventing some changes of wills and the possibility of being disowned, but none-the-less, Gregory had ruined the blood lineage.

The question now, for Mathias anyway, was how to hide this aspect of himself. Mathias had always been one to be bluntly honest, but with this he was a little uncertain. He knew that to say he was a halfblood would end any social possibilities and respect that he would’ve ever received. To say he was a pureblood would be tricky. Easy enough it would be to form the words, but harder it would be for him to hide his parents and his older brother from revealing the truth. Yes, Mathias was tied. He had half a mind to just leave - but that was definitely not an open option. And with a quick thought, he let the words fall quickly from his mouth - tossing caution into the wind and forgetting that there would be a future to uphold.

“Pure, of course.”

And thus, he became just like them - all British, garish, dragged, and even slightly distasteful.

PATRONUS:

It had been such a terribly long time - Mathias had almost completely forgotten his deep roots in the coastal city of France. Yes, he had begun to refer to that dreary, cosmopolitan city of London as his home - how wrong he had been. Standing in that lush sand, toes freezing as the ocean water brushed up against them sending shivers up his foot and his bare legs, he smiled. It had taken ages to convince Daphne to make this stop. They had been in Italy for their honeymoon and Mathias had sworn that he wouldn’t be going home unless they made this small stop. She had been stubborn, as stubborn as a mule, but the thought of herself on a plane by herself was the key factor in her succumbing. Mathias was most pleased - he had counted, and it had been promptly ten or eleven years that he had been away from this place. This amount of time was far too long. How could he have possibly kept himself in London all those years? Or better yet. How had he stopped himself from thinking about this place for so long? Their chateau overlooking the French costal side was gorgeous - a place where any parent would kill to have their children grow up, and quite frankly, his had given it all away.

Taking his wife’s hand into his, Mathias tilted his head upwards to feel the rush of the overcoming salty air. He had grown up in these surroundings - the beach, the sand, the salty air, the briars that grew along the sides of their property - it was all too familiar. It seemed almost funny, the situation he was currently in. He had left France, this very house at that, when he was seven or eight, and here he was - age twenty-two and with his wife. Time, in its own way, had always compelled Mathias. Its workings and secrets had always intrigued him. And for these very reasons, he had never worn a watch, ever. His mother had criticized him, Daphne went on daily rants - it was just something that he had decided he would never do. He was never about punctuality, but rather living in the moment. Life is a series of moments leading up to no extravagantly important events. Why should he build them up to something that will never come? It was death. Death was the ultimate deciding factor and that was all that life built up towards. He had always had this habit; he had always come to the beach to think - just as he was doing. Now he was older, and quite frankly, had had a whole lot more to contemplate, to want to know about.

And his first thought was his wife, a Daphne Montague. He could admit this to himself, and he would say that he wasn’t in love with her. The wedding was beautiful and everything had gone exactly how she had planned it, but there was a certain quality missing. She captivated him, but there is no love in mere captivation. Of course, now that they were married there would be no room not find love and Mathias was almost sure that he could love her - he would love her. She was his wife and he would take care of her - spoil her, please her, do whatever for her. He was a firm believer in the act of pleasing to be pleased in return. There were certain things in his life that he would have no control over. His marriage to Daphne would be one of these things, and he had already mostly gotten over it. He had no problem assuring himself that he would love her. But he had faults in the matter of the time during which this love would last. Mathias had always been one to get bored with things rather easily - thus, his ideals of marriage were rather slack. In the areas of loving, he owed that much to Daphne. She was a beautiful woman, very headstrong - he would have to keep himself content with her.

Bringing himself back to reality, he took a large breath inwards and took a drag from the cigarette lying between his middle and index fingers. Letting the smoke rings blow into the oncoming air rush, he felt the weight of Daphne’s head upon his shoulder, and no later was he moving his hand to offer her a drag. She took one willingly and hugged her arms around him before commenting as she blew her own smoke rings into the air,

"You can really lose yourself here."

"Daphne, I love you."

MOVING WITHOUT A CARE
the dramatic past.

MOTHER:
“My mother, a certain Emilia Montague, is an interesting woman, and I can almost understand why my father fell so hardly for her. She is beautiful, that much is open to any spectator. As beautiful as she is though, she has nothing else to justify that she is a woman to be respected. Hardly a mother, she can sometimes come across as a bit of walking contradiction. She preaches that we should perfect our own families, but she has done nothing of the sort to her own. Being married at the age of twenty-one to a man seven years older than her, she hardly knew how to run her own household. My father received her unaware, naïve to the world around her, and a complete wreck. I can easily say that she has much improved as I’ve gotten older, although, I can’t help but think what hell she’s put my father through. The woman used to smoke like a chimney, drink like there was nothing available to her but alcohol, and was much too wild to be considered family-creating material. My father was obviously in way too far over his head. None-the-less though, she gave birth to two lovely sons and I do believe that we’ve turned out quite alright.”

FATHER:
“My father, a Gregory Montague, is a man of quite an odd nature. He is eccentric, to say the least. I think he is the source of a lot of my rather peculiar habits. Since my mother was a little lacking in the areas needed to raise my brother and myself, I learned a lot from my father. Needless to say, he is the reason why I’ve turned out to be the man I am today. I admire him in the highest of ways. Or perhaps it would be safer to say that I admire him all of his ways, except his habit of choosing unreasonable women. I understand that my mother must have amused him for a time, but I don’t think she was worth the trouble in the long run. I mean, fabulous looks only last for a time, I’m surprised - as easily as he bores - he hasn’t gotten bored with her.”

SIBLINGS:
“Desmond and I used to be extremely close as children. However, we grew slightly apart after we both graduated from Hogwarts and started our own private lives. He married that one girl, Gabrielle? Gabby? I don’t quite remember her name. Gloria. That’s it. I’ve met her a few times - the girl is a living wreck. Honestly, I think my brother could’ve done a whole lot better. But then again, the pattern seems to run in the family. I, however, was married to Daphne and I guess we’ve just sort of lost touch. I mean, we’ve started out on our own lives - I guess we can’t quite be as close as we once were. Besides, I have a child on the way and I need to be with Daphne, and well, I think that Desmond’s wife is pregnant, although I’m not too entirely sure. He’ll definitely need to be around.”

SPOUSE:
“I’m married to Daphne, and I adore her to a certain extent. I’m not too entirely sure that I’m fully and completely in love with her, but I must say that she captivates me in every way possible. Our marriage was arranged, and I don’t really think that I knew her in school. Sure, I might have seen her around a few times, but we ran with different crowds - it’s funny the way you can go to school with someone and never know that they exist. But that is beside the point - I’m married to Daphne and she is pregnant with our first child. She captivates me and I hope that I can bring myself to completely love her. We’re rather compatible, I think.”

CHILDREN:
"Daphne is pregnant with our first child - I want to say that she's seven or eight months along. I'm really hoping that it'll be a boy, you know, to carry on the family name and what-not, but I don't think I'll be too utterly upset if it just happens to be a female, in which case we'll just have to try again for a male."

OTHER:
"The Greengrasses, along with a slew of relatives in Italy and France."

ACCIO! HISTORY:

Born on the fourteenth of December in the year of 1980, Mathias was a gorgeous specimen of a child. Striking blue eyes looked upwards from the arms of a certain Gregory Montague and proud father, and the petite hands of an Emilia Montague stroked at his tufts of chestnut hair. The child was beautiful, much in resemblance to its mother, father, and one year older brother. Desmond, the elder brother, had contently placed himself in the waiting room and would not enter to see his mother so indisposed and his small brother so disgusting-looking. And with that, Mathias Athanese Montague - as he was promptly named by his father - was brought home to their chateau overlooking the coast. Their home was in the country, far away from the hustling and bustling that would later consume their lives. Their life was almost that of the pre-industrial Japan, far from the likes of Westernization and seemingly untouched by time. As Mathias grew older, his company was that of his brother Desmond, and their teachings of the seemingly academic subjects were pertained from a highly paid tutor. Their mother was skeptical to teach them the social charms she so easily graced, but it was picked up none-the-less by just being around her. This was life, and this was peace. Mathias had grown up in a seemingly peaceful surrounding - a reverie he would hold onto for the rest of his life. It’s rather easy, actually, to pick out this idly lazy side of him left over from these untouched childhood years.

However, all of this came crashing down upon their heads as Desmond received his letter to attend Hogwarts. The family made their first memorable trip to Diagon Alley and Mathias was easily intrigued as well as a little jealous that his brother would be experiencing something so amazing without him to be right by his side. Yet, none-the-less, Mathias joined him a year later as their family relocated to a home closer to London, closer to the hustling and bustling of the city - although they held onto their older property. Mathias was seemingly sorted into Slytherin just as his brother and father had been. His mother, on the other hand, had attended a completely different school. Mathias had never been exposed to this kind of world before, and was quite appalled at the way things were done in Britain. This idea of pureblooded lineage and the families that waddled through life merely on the fact that they were of this bloodline - this was foreign to him. This was wrong. In France it hadn’t been this way, it had been of ancestry accomplishment and wealth, nobility levels to say the least. What did bloodline have to do with anything? Mathias found out rather quickly. Bloodline was everything in this cold world of high society London. And just as quickly as he was to admit this was incorrect, he was compelled to join it. Mathias wasn’t pureblooded and he knew it, yet he hid it rather well under an elitist exterior that he had created. He had become just as the Slytherin house had molded him to be - cold, unforgiving, and utterly pureblooded. His brother had undergone a much similar transformation.

They were not at the leading of the pack at Hogwarts, there was no need for them to be. Mathias, similarly to his brother, didn’t believe in the need to travel in large packs and have a swarm of friends looking up to you at all times and most definitely was against the idea of a public looking up towards him for his errors and imperfection. No, Mathias could live without all of these things. He had always been someone who liked a trivial and seemingly low-key existence, and it was clearly illustrated through his years at Hogwarts. It wasn’t that he was too shy to find the courage within himself to find friends; it was just that he never bothered to try. He had a few close friends, but nothing that would leave an impact following his graduation from Hogwarts. Even his relationship with his brother had wilted after their graduation. He had gone his way and married some girl Mathias had met once or twice and Mathias had gone on to court his betrothed, Daphne. His parents, during these Hogwarts years, didn’t comment on much, but rather watched and whispered amongst themselves. They weren’t fond of the transformations their children had made - they weren’t the loving children they had been growing up. Mathias had known that there was a certain quality about his parents that he hadn’t experienced since he was twelve years old, but was reluctant to point it out. What he didn’t know was probably better for him. He didn’t want to damage the ever-lasting image of his parents that he would seemingly hold onto.

And with that, those years were through. He had graduated Hogwarts, done seemingly well in school, and played on the Slytherin Quidditch team for two or three years - nothing that he would be able to make a career of. Yes, Mathias had soaked Hogwarts for as much as he wanted out of it. He had gone through school with little effort and little attention. He had many other things on his mind and his parents had said nothing. He’d dated a lot, and done a good bit of drugs; he had been influenced by all that rock and roll culture. I mean, what else was there to expect? Britain was the home and mother country of the culture and it was hard for a Mathias, as young and malleable as he was, not to be influenced. Besides, he wouldn’t be the man he is today without his growing through his Hogwarts years. They had shaped and molded him far more than years at home had ever done. That was what Hogwarts was to the Montague family - a place to send your kids where they get a real world experience. Screw the schooling; it’s the experience that matters.

And with that, Mathias was done and out of school. He bought his own flat in London and lived that oh-so famous low key lifestyle for a few years - you know, we all love Bob Dylan. He lingered through underground band showings and was evicted out of his house quite a few times for not being able to pay the bills - it was the way things were and Mathias was perfectly happy with them. Bedding beautiful women, drinking as he damn well pleased, and falling asleep to the sweet strumming of the guitar - this was heaven, this was peace. This was perfection, until he received the owl. He should have known that morning when he awoke to a rather peculiar scent - he should have known. And there it was, right beside his bed, a nicely addressed envelope and an oh-so familiar owl to match. He was reluctant to open the letter and actually contemplated several different scenarios of how he would do so before finally deciding on the clichéd idea of using a knife to get through the letter closing and taking a sit at the kitchen table. The letter was simple. His adoring parents had bypassed through the greetings and the ‘catching up’ and had gotten straight to the point - the announcement. Yes, totally unaware to everything around him, he was stuck in quite the stupor as he read the final lines of the letter. Yes, he was betrothed - betrothed to Daphne Greengrass, and their marriage would be that summer.

This was positively unbelievable. Mathias wasn’t a man to be tied down to one woman, and definitely wasn’t one to support a woman - therefore, he took on the task of employment. Soon enough, with the strong help of something usually referred to as the spoils system, he was sitting atop a head desk at the Ministry of Magic. Yes, Mathias had become one of those business men he had always so despised, and was doing absolutely nothing to receive their same payment. He was the head of this department in name only, of course - Mathias doesn’t handle responsibility well and that’s a known fact. He had so begun to court Daphne, you know, get to know her a little better. She, as far as he was concerned, was an excellent match for him. She was a beautiful, pureblooded female - a little ballsy and ready for anything. She enjoyed a good smoke every now and then and wasn’t too particularly horrible in bed either, not to mention she was far from traditional. Mathias liked to mix it up - stationary gets old, he’ll admit it. The courting process lasted but a few months, say four or five, and they were married.

The marriage took place on a glorious day in May. The wedding went exactly as planned - the way Daphne had planned it anyway. Mathias had been given a tuxedo and a time, and those were the extents over which he was in charge. And that was that - they were married. Mr. and Mrs. Mathias Athanese Montague - the title had sounded so odd as the priest had announced them, but Mathias had overlooked this, he was, after all, looking at his new life - he had no room to be picky. The honeymoon was in Italy, a nice tour of the countryside and historical landmarks - lots of rough sex, because that’s the way Daphne likes it - and a lot of other stuff that Mathias likes to keep to himself. He’s not one to boast about sexual accomplishments, it’s rude and unflattering - or so he believes. But none-the-less, his wife and him enjoyed their honeymoon and Mathias was even successful in convincing Daphne to allow a small stop at Mathias’ home in France before heading home once more. That, as he clearly remembers it, was the first time he could admit to himself that he loved his wife - even if he wasn’t so completely sure at the time. He had convinced himself that he would love her, even though at times he felt it was one-sided.

These concerns though, were quickly erased as Daphne announced she was pregnant. Proving to be quite an adequate husband, Mathias had provided her with a gorgeous country-like estate in Wiltshire and pretty much whatever her heart desired. Mathias had always been a man that liked to show his appreciation - he spoiled Daphne. And now, he was giving her the epitome of all gifts - a child. His sperm had, you know, helped to form that lovely fetus. And well, we’ll just have to see how things work out from here….

HIPBONES AND MICROPHONES
what it all comes down to in the end.

MEMBER TITLE: `` HEADLOCK
READ THE RULES?: yes, although i skimmed a little tiny bit
ANY LAST WORDS: you rock?
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:

What to wear? That was always the brooding question upon Miss Malfoy's mind. And by looking at her, you wouldn't be surprised. The female had always looked well-groomed, fashionably dressed and overall highly presentable. This was all just part of the Malfoy family charm - they all looked good. We can find her now, pacing her rather large closet, half-dressed and in a panic. Tonight her dearest cousins, the Lestranges, were hosting a pureblood party. One might not view the importance of this event, but Dahlia is fully aware of it's meaning. It's all a gigantic blind date, in some way or another. Your parents send you to attend so you can ensure them a pureblood heir - simple as that. For those already married or engaged, the party is merely a social hour. For those like Dahlia, that aren't quite engaged nor married, it's a living hell. The Malfoy family has always held their heads high in saying they come from a completely 'pure' blood line. Abraxas had already fulfilled his bargain as a child; he'd been arranged to marry another pureblood. Dahlia, on the other hand, had been left to find love on her own. Naturally, with her as powerful and wanted as she is, it's hard for her to choose. Of course she'd been seeing Laurent lately, but that didn't mean she was to marry him. Hell, Dahlia might not ever accomplish the feat of marriage. Really, at this point in her life, Dahlia wasn't quite sure what she wanted.

And she was definitely unsure of what she'd be wearing to attend her darling cousin's little gathering. That was until, however, she had spotted it. Yes, the perfect dress. It was muggle-made, naturally. A work by the Italian desinger, Valentino. According to the lady from whom she had bought it, it was a spectacular piece, Vintage Haute Couture. This, of course, meant nothing to Dahlia - muggle fashion lines weren't quite her interest; she simply wore the clothes. It was black in color, and silk in material. It was strapless, the top hugging tightly against her torso as if a corset. A string of black beads hung from the center, following the material until dangling just above her pelvic bone. From there down, the dress fell down to the floor and if flipped inside out, would reveal the blood red silk material lining the inside. Along the back half, starting at her lower-back from a gorgeous black and red silk bow, falls tafetta material, matching exclusively to the black silk and occasionally rifting a view of the also matching blood red inner material. She quickly slipped her matching black opera gloves onto those petite and delicate hands before looking into the mirror.

Overall, she looked acceptable. The black silk against her alabaster skin was a gorgeous offset, and Dahlia smiled at her brilliancy in bringing out her inner-porcelain look. Slipping those petite feet of hers into a pair of Manolo Blahnik exclusives, she was almost complete. The heels were fabulously designed, red with black designs - an opposite to her dress. Now all she had to do was focus her attention onto her hair, which at the current moment lay in a sloppily created bun. Wearing it down wouldn't be advisable, considering it would hide her elongated neck and cover her exposed back. But what updo would suffice her today? Buns were out-of-style, and ponytails were girly. Reaching a conclusion, she decided she'd wear it in a loose chignon - classy, sophisticated yet not too reprimanding. With a flick of her wand, her hair magically enhanced itself and with another flick a few black feathers had been nicely placed in the crease of the French-styled bun. Smiling, she beckoned one of her recently found house elves. Within a second, he appeared looking a bit disheavled. "What do you think?" She twirled, the dress lifting only the slightest bit, her feathers leaning towards the right. "Master looks fine," the elf grunted, obviously unamused by her attempts at asking his opinions. She realised his discomfort, and ushered him off. What did a filthy elf's opinion matter anyway?

Dabbing some blush onto her cheeks, and some gloss onto her lips she blew a kiss towards her mirror, winking in the process. Her apperance was finally complete, and by God she looked fabulous. But let's just face the facts here - when does Dahlia not look drop dead gorgeous? Spritzing herself with a little scent she'd formulated herself, lilac and mint, she stepped from her bathroom and back into her own room. Grabbing up a black shawl, she placed it around her shoulders, making sure she'd secured her wand. She wasn't quite out to cause any trouble, but merely socialize - as was the point of these ridiculous get togethers. Laurent had mentioned he'd be attending, and she was thinking of latching herself upon him at his arrival. She didn't want to appear as alone as she really was. Sure there would be men wanting to court her, there always were - she just wasn't up for one night stands on this particular night. She was tired, and despite all her feeble attempts, she hadn't been able to brisk away the heavy bags under eyes. Forgetting her attempts, she deemed the look 'sexy,' in a sultry, 'I just woke up' kind of way. Dahlia can always make the better of a situation, especially an appearance-related flaw.

She'd spoken with her mother earlier in the day reguarding why the hell she'd been so persistant on her attending this social. She'd merely gone on about how Abraxas had his own family and why she couldn't start her own. She had also hinted that she'd end up growing old alone. And yes, she'd recited the story. The infamous story of her own wedding arrangements with her dearest Draco. They'd been married right out of school, had given birth to Abraxas nine months into their marriage and had flourished ever since - or so she has always claimed. Dahlia's not stupid, she knows marriages aren't as perfect as they appear to be. Hell, Abraxas was still sleeping around, and while married at that. And besides, she hardly had ever seen her father and mother together in a room for more than an hour at a time. Shrugging off the thoughts of her earlier conversation, she retrieved her Jimmy Choo clutch from the table in the foyer and apparated, with a distinctive 'pop.' Only mere seconds later she had apperaed in the home of her cousins, the Lestranges.

Glancing around at who'd already arrived, she smirked. Adonia Lestrange had already arrived. She removed her shawl flamboyantly and beckoned for an awaiting house elf to have it secured in a coat closet, or perhaps a coat rack. "My darling cousins," she approached Daciana and Adonia, "you look ravishing." She had never been particularly close to Daciana. They hadn't quite talked, and Draco had never felt particulary warm towards their parents. Adonia and herself had almost a love/hate relationship. Sure, her grandfather, Lucious, had been rather close with Bellatrix, but she'd never been quite too fond of her cousin. Actually, Adonia was almost a little too much like herself. She gave each of them polite kisses on each cheek, and smiled. So she'd arrived a bit earlier than all the guests? Everyone, including Dahlia, can be a bit early for something. Keeping that smug smile tugging at her lips, she becked for another elf to take her clutch bag to a safe, considering the Lestranges had input a safe for these types of events.

[MATHIAS ATHANESE MONTAGUE]

totally done.
yay.

[GABRIELLE ANASTASIE KRUM]

` accepted !