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Emmeric Malfoy
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Welcome to GUILT
Nothing in the last few books has happened. At all.
Voldemort is alive- where the hell is he, though? The year is 2017
That the entire wizarding world has gone insomniac, up all night wondering what’s going to happen.
That’s all we know is going to happen.
You control the rest.
Why don’t you give us insomniacs a little twist?
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→ Malfoy, Emmeric, Slytherin, 6th year
| Emmeric Malfoy |
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Newbie

Group: Slytherin Admin
Posts: 2
Member No.: 2
Joined: 25-November 07

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the PLAYER Name/Alias: Sut Age: 15 How You Found Us: Sica or Yael Other Characters: None yet
the BASICS Full Name: Emmeric Laurence Malfoy Age: Sixteen (seventeen in December) Year: Sixth Birthday: December 13 House: Slytherin Any Pets: Barred owl named "Farris"
the INSIDE Likes: o Success o Silence o Power o Cleanliness o Music o Sleeping o Clothing o Red wine o Traveling o Math Dislikes: o Writing o Lots of noise o Crowded rooms o Body odour o Having to get up before nine o Animals (his owl is the exception) o Potions (taking them himself) o Swimming Favourite Subject: Arithmancy Least Favourite Subject: Care of Magical Creatures Personality: Although Emmeric usually (key word) tries to distinguish himself from his father, one can't help but note the similarities between father and son—and not just in appearance. Emm has a certain aura, a charm if you will, to him that radiates a... a strange vibe. He's cold on the outside, frozen nearly at times, haughty and degrading but with another edge to him. He calculates his moves as precisely as he can, making sure to keep everything in line—how he wants it to be. As a perfectionist, he doesn't like to be corrected mainly because he can't stand to actually be wrong. Not to say he isn't, he just doesn't like it.
Admitting his own faults is something he can do easily in his own head. That being said, he can convince others that they don't exist by voicing them aloud and fabricating details to smooth over those rough edges otherwise known as character flaws. He's a persuasive boy by nature, having learnt at a young age from his father that if he wanted something, he could have it—he just had to be able to convince his father of why it was useful/needed. Want was not a sufficient reason. And through his years, Emmeric has carried this persuasion ability into everything he does.
He'll do his best to sway professors into doing something else; putting on every ounce of charm he thinks is needed. Some of them fall right for it and he can get whatever he wants, then there are the others who see right through Mr. Emmeric Laurence Malfoy and won't give him jack shit.
Living in an uptight household where rules were followed, and disobeying was hardly even an option has carried through to Emmeric. Although he does enjoy the “fun” things in life, and jokes with his friends, it’s difficult to catch him laughing or grinning genuinely in public or in an otherwise “enemy occupied” area. He just doesn’t like to show that sort of emotion to people he most certainly doesn’t trust, and for the most part, like either.
He keeps his friends close, although he can’t say that he’s always one hundred percent honest with them. He’s a natural liar, and on occasion, the lies become compulsive and for days, sometimes weeks, the truth just doesn’t come. He’d rather always find the easiest way out, or to do anything, and if a lie can get him there, then that’s what he’ll use. He’s always been told to get what he wants—and to do it as fast as he can. Time? Why, it’s only a thing used to measure how long one must endure a dull lecture.
the PAST Father: Draco Malfoy Mother: Daphne (Greengrass) Malfoy Brothers: To be decided. Sisters: Alissa Malfoy - Twin History:
December 13th, 2000 was a Wednesday like most others in that month and general time. Except that late that night, Emmeric Laurence Malfoy came screaming into the world. He was the first child of the aristocratic Malfoys—Draco and Daphne respectively. The couple were only twenty or so, but they were aged beyond a mere twenty as war tended to do to people. Ever since they’d married, they’d expected children or at least one. Hell that had really only been the reason that they had actually gone and tied the knot. Both needed to continue their blood lines, they liked one another, why not reproduce together?
They’d known one another through school and their parents’ social circles so they certainly weren’t strangers. They hadn’t really mingled or been close friends, but during the war, was there really such thing as friends? Neither thought so, but a marriage and child certainly classified one another as allies—not that they hadn’t been before having both been close Voldemort followers, this simply… well, reinforced the knowledge.
Emmeric was their first child, but not to be their last—Alissa coming into the world just a short period after him, his twin of course. He was born in the cold, and well, maybe that helped shaped what his nature would become, what his childhood would prove to be: cold. His father, well, Draco, as you can imagine, wasn’t really the caring and loving type. Sure, he loved Emmeric… or more the fact that he had Emmeric—that he had a son. He made sure of course that Emmer was well taken care of, only the best nannies for him, the best tutors, and he gave the child what he wanted/needed usually.
But he made sure that Emmeric knew his place. He made sure that his son knew that Draco was head of the house and that his word was absolute law. Any disputes… well, there simply were no disputes. If you had a dispute with Draco, if you felt daring you tried to take it up, and then had marks to show for it. But Emm learnt quickly simply to let the disputes slide and ignore them… better that than deal with an irate father.
Discipline was Draco’s key to success, and Emmeric didn’t hate him for it. It was what he was used to, and although it was never a pleasurable experience, since he didn’t know any better, what did he have to hate? Besides, it shaped him into a form that he came to like. A strong exterior, a biting tongue and sharp instincts. There were other effects as well of course, but those were all he saw—all that his father saw too. And of course an obedient son.
Daphne took a different approach to raising her children. She wasn’t as loving a mother as one might hope for, but she wasn’t as cold as her husband. When she was around, she actually enjoyed being with the children—but that was key: when she was around. As a high-class “socialite” she had many “commitments” to attend to. Her children didn’t make this list very often.
There wasn’t ever any question of Emmeric’s abilities, but that wasn’t because they showed right away. More so because he was a Malfoy. And the first-born Malfoy of that generation—for him to be a squib was unthinkable. As it were, he wasn’t and this was proved on his third birthday when someone took away a new toy and it came zooming right back to him.
And just as the magical abilities had never been doubted, it was crystal clear that upon entering Hogwarts, he would be in Slytherin. There wasn’t another choice. Gryffindor was disgusting, Hufflepuff for the weak, and Ravenclaw was for those who seemed to sit on the fence and read—not the place for a Malfoy.
the OPTIONAL Wand: Ebony, stiff, nine and one-quarter inches, double unicorn hair core Boggart: [Worst fear] Dementor: [worst memory] Amortentia: [love. three scents] Broomstick: [model and make] Patronus: Fox
the REST Model Claim: Alex Band Roleplay Sample:
| QUOTE | Standing still, with eyes almost sizing her up, Alek waited. He waited for an answer, he waited simply for her reaction to his soft-spoken revelations that to some would have seemed obvious ten years ago, but to the apparently once-blind teenager, had been farther than space to grasp. He could have kicked himself now, too high-strung on pride and his youthful prescence and reputation to suck it up, prove the male stereotype wrong, and just tell the girl he liked--loved--how he felt. It couldn't have been that hard could it? But, as was always the case... the coward pondered the thoughts of rejection, debated the cons against the pros and just flopped; refused to do it.
It was with reluctance that even in his head Alek admitted that he'd supressed the things he'd wanted to say and felt, for the two certainly went hand in hand. He'd wanted nothing more than to abandon the playful act the two put on in front of everyone. The perfect friends, constantly groping and kissing one another, sex everywhere and anywhere with alcohol and drugs a constant accessory to their lives. They were the rebels, the ones those good teenagers looked up to and secretly wanted and didn't want to be. They were the ones the jealous wanted to see crash and burn, to fall off the school popularity spectrum. And maybe, maybe that crash and burn was actually the rejection Alek was so afraid of. If Adri laughed at him, or didn't reciprocate... he'd take a hard fall. He'd have no status; he'd be the failing druggie who lived with his eccentric uncle. No longer would the prefix 'cool' or some other adjective be added to that description.
And then, she broke the silence. Not with an angry retort, not with a confused question, but a simple proud revelation about his name. He stared for a second before his lips twitched and a slow grin spread across his face. "And you're still one of the few," he replied, starting to laugh without helping himself. It was almost as if after they'd let everything out, thrown at one another harshly and then had it bounce back, that it was gone now. It seemed to have disappeared almost and although he didn't feel totally at ease, he certainly felt far from awkward and tense.
He sucked briefly on his lower lip, half-glancing at her eyes that seemed to twitch all around him. And... mind? Mind what? He nearly asked until he saw her lean forward, and then, and then it was like he remembered it ten years ago except that much better. Their kisses as youth he remembered as rough, passionate but now that he dwelled on it, there was a degree of confusion, the confusion that made it seem as if something were missing. Not that either would have noticed in their horny and needy ways. But right then, Alek couldn't help but lean forward and press his lips up against hers, returning the kiss like he needed it. He slowly reached out, as if he were new to the situation (despite being far from it) and gently rested his hands on her hips, turning his head slightly to lean in, only breaking away for a moment to breathe. "Not at all." |
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