Post by Lucius Abraxas Malfoy on Nov 29, 2012 0:15:49 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 380px; background-image:URL(http://www.pixeden.com/media/k2/galleries/165/001-subtle-light-pattern-background-texture-vol5.jpg) ; border-left: 10px solid #1C161E; border-right: 10px solid #1C161E;] Lucius Abraxas Malfoy  full name: Lucius Abraxas Malfoy canon or original: Canon age: 17 year: Seventh house: Slytherin blood: Pure wand: 18 inches, elm, dragon heartstring with a very rigid flexibility patronus: Serpent, his was his father’s, and his father’s father, and so forth. boggart: Shaming his family erised: He would tell others it would be to be to serve his family name and become a famous, powerful wizard of widespread notoriety. His greatest desire, however, is to have a son and be a proud father. birth place:Wiltshire, England ------------------------------------------------- Appearance: The Malfoy family, particularly the males, have a strong knack for resembling one another. Lucius is no exception. He has the same white-blonde hair of his father which he sports in a short, slicked-back style. His cold, grey eyes are in a state of perpetual glare, and his thin lips are usually set in a firm scowl. Lucius is delicately featured, possessing fine hair, a fair complexion, a pointed, aristocratic nose, arched eyebrows, and pronounced cheekbones, lending himself to have a somewhat spectral appearance. Having a keen eye for flair, Lucius is never one to look drab or unstylish. He considers himself blessed with impeccable taste and never fails to flaunt this particular talent of his. A hair is never out of place, his trousers always clean and pressed, and his robes are always free of lint, stains, and other imperfections. He presents himself the way he wants people to see him, as a powerful, intelligent pure-blood. Recently, however, Lucius has become more experimental with his appearance. Doubting his role within the Malfoy family, the Dark Lord’s campaign, and his overall place in the wizarding world, Lucius is beginning to become questioning of all the fundamentals he was raised on. Some days, lately, he has appeared less-than-chic, hair a bedhead mess, occasionally stubble around the jawline. His closest friends are beginning to wonder about his outward appearance, and its reflection of his present inner turmoil. Personality: When he was eight, Lucius Malfoy was admiring a vase rumored to have been owned by Salazar Slytherin, and a Malfoy family heirloom. He held it in his tiny hands, running his ringers over the silver-ridged grooves. Clumsy and awkward, as most young children are, Lucius dropped the vase and fled the scene. Later, his father Abraxas confronted him, asking him if it was he who broke the vase. Lucius readily blamed one of the house-elves. Unconvinced, Abraxas pressed him further. He warned Lucius that he would have to harshly punish said house-elf if he did in fact break the vase. Still, Lucius remained adamant in his accusation. Lucius Malfoy is spoiled. He is a spoiled, rich brat, and he knows it. In fact, he takes an unnecessary amount of pride in this simple fact. Carrying himself with an air of superiority, Lucius will go to great lengths to prove his self-worth and dominance over those around him, and will go to even greater lengths to avoid the consequences of his self-indulgence. In his not-so-humble opinion, he is entitled to whatever he wants, whenever he wants, whether it’s the girl of his affections – affections being an overstatement, sadly - or an expensively obscure enchantment from Borgin and Burkes. For Lucius Malfoy, everything has a price, and everything can be bought. Similarly, he doesn’t have relationships, he has connections. Lucius regards people as opportunities for social-climbing. He treats relationships like a mercenary would; Lucius is not one to let his loyalties lie firmly in one person or group, but rather to whoever will better serve in his favor. He considers his circle friends to be puppets whose strings he can pull to his advantage. Need someone to pen his term paper? He can persuade his smartest mate to do it for him. Coveting the adoration of a particular professor? Bribe them with something they most desire – on his father’s galleons, of course. This is even more true for his view toward women, as trophies to be won rather than meaningful pursuits. Lucius doesn’t find himself to be particularly engaged in fulfilling friendships or passionate romances. People are disposable, and better suited when they are to his advantage. Besides being an A-class elitist, Lucius is a considerably serious sort. Rarely one to be the life of the party, Lucius is more prone to reflective thought than ceaseless partying. Lucius is naturally drawn to the dark and the depraved, but he does so with a tremendously composed demeanor. He is slow to smile, and even slower to laugh. There is nothing particularly inviting about him. In fact, Lucius is nothing short of cruel and bigoted. Beneath this stony, sly composure, however, is a coward. He is a silver-tongue devil, with a snippy retort for just about anything. But all of this hides the soul of a boy who is terrified of his role within the grand scheme of things. Lucius is much more likely to save his own hide than do ‘the right thing,’ as it were. Finicky in his loyalties and overly reliant on his family wealth, it truly would not take much to reduce Lucius to shambles. He is incapable of understanding the bigger picture or the meaning of sacrifice. Despite his faults, Lucius is deeply loving of his family. His greatest wish is to serve the Malfoy name well. He respects his parents more than anyone else and longs for nothing more than a family of his own. Lucius extends true, lasting love to very few people, but his family is certainly among them. When push comes to shove, Lucius will do anything to protect the few he keeps close to his heart, even if it means death. Presently, Lucius is in a state of transition. Don’t worry. He’s not about to go rubbing elbows with filthy mud-bloods or anyone of that sort. He yearns for nothing more than to become a Death Eater and serve the Dark Lord – who else can combat the greatness of the Dark Lord, after all? He prides himself in his blood-purity and still looks down upon those of ‘lesser purity.’ However, he is fearful of a war that will surely come. He is fearful of his own mortality, the future state of the wizarding role, and his role to play in everything. Lucius is beginning to question everything that was taught to him as a boy, and wonders if all of the lessons were as true as he always believed they were. Background: Lucius’s early life was a luxurious one. Born and raised in Wiltshire, England at the Malfoy Manor, Lucius quickly became accustomed to all the delights and extravagances his affluence could bring him. He was raised to understand and prize the importance of blood-purity and social standing. The Malfoy home was stern and uninviting. Instead of love and affection, Lucius was raised with grimness and remoteness. He was raised to be the best of the best, flocked with private tutors even before his studies at Hogwarts, given early flying lessons, and given the very finest in clothes, company, possessions, and so forth. Upon arriving to Hogwarts, he was immediately disliked by most, save for Slytherins. There were even some Slytherins who resented his frequent tendency to lord his wealth and prominence over the other students. Even still, many vied for his attention due simply for social-climbing. It can be guessed then, that Lucius likely has very few if none true friends. Made a prefect in his fifth year, Lucius is now a member of the Slug Club, and enjoying his last year at Hogwarts before beginning his life alongside the Dark Lord. |
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your alias: Allison
a roleplay sample:
It was stark, chilly winter night, the night Lucius Malfoy stood at the edge of the Astronomy Tower, overlooking the Hogwarts grounds outstretched before him. He didn’t know what he was doing there, and after hours, no less. He had been in the Slytherin common room, not even bothering to feign interest as one of his mates prattled on about something or other. He had stood then, ignoring their calls of dismay, and exited back into the dark halls. He was no stranger to breaking curfew; he frequently found himself needing solace and there were few times and places he could find such. Tonight was such a night. Leaning forward against the iron railing, it was as if the whole world were before him, but he didn’t want any of it.
The night before, he had had a strange dream. Lucius wasn’t prone to dreaming. Or at least, if he was, he never remembered them. Every morning he awoke to blank nothingness. Last night was different though. In the dream, he was in the Malfoy Manor. It seemed to him as if he had never gone to Hogwarts. He wasn’t the nearly grown man he was now, however. He was just a boy again, small and unassuming.
His boy-self stood in the foyer. He called for his father. He called for his mother. Then the house-elves, all of them. He waited, but no one answered. It was dark and dank and deep. He remembered wondering where everyone else and suddenly feeling very afraid. He moved into the dining hall. No one. He wandered into the parlor room. That, too, was empty. He searched the kitchens, the servants quarters, the drawing room, the cellars, his parents bedchamber, and then his own. All of these were vacant.
Finally he went to the library, his favorite room in the entire house. Ancient volumes and texts lined the entirety of the walls. Anything he wanted to know was at his fingertips. He stood in the center of the vast room. It appeared to be empty. He glanced to his left, and then to his right. The grand fireplace was unlit. Something stirred in the coals, however. He narrowed his eyes, suspicious, and drew closer. To his surprise, a basilisk – though not full-grown, perhaps just past infancy – emerged from the darkness. It raised its head, its fangs striking a tremor through Lucius. Everything after that happened very quickly.
Lucius heard whispering in his ear, and he wondered if it was the great snake. He started to back away. It suddenly felt as if the room became very cold. The snake opened its mouth wide. Then to his dismay, the snake grew larger and larger till it filled the entirety of the library. Lucius looked down at his hands and realized that he too had grown and was no longer a boy anymore. The snake hissed, opened its mouth wider, and then lunged at Lucius.
In the swiftest moment, everything became dark and Lucius knew he was in the mouth of the snake and would soon die.
Lucius awoke with a start, panting and drenched with sweat.
As Lucius stood staring at the star-strewn sky, his mind kept wandering back to that dream, the dream that still made him tremble inwardly. Lucius had never held much faith in superstition, in the art of divination, in the ability to foretell the future or make signs out of coincidences.
Lucius believed in the strength of blood-purity, the corruption of mud-bloods and half-bloods infiltrating the magical world. He believed in the philosophies of his Salazar Slytherin and of his father. Lucius knew this was the point his life was headed toward. The world was changing and Lucius would be there to serve the stronger side.
At least, that was what he was supposed to believe.
Staring out in to the grounds, however, Lucius was at a loss. There was an emptiness in him he had never felt before. He was willing to chalk it up to youthful stupidity, childish ignorance, but this felt like something greater.
He couldn’t voice his doubts to anyone, barely even to himself. But everything suddenly felt like a burden. He had never felt so afraid. Blood-purity, it felt like a tired, old lesson he was sick of hearing. He was sick of his mother’s inane pressure to find a suitable wife. He could scarcely imagine his life beyond the boundaries of school. What was it he really wanted, anyway? If his father only knew what he was thinking…
It was there, he was certain – the life he was meant to lead.
The night before, he had had a strange dream. Lucius wasn’t prone to dreaming. Or at least, if he was, he never remembered them. Every morning he awoke to blank nothingness. Last night was different though. In the dream, he was in the Malfoy Manor. It seemed to him as if he had never gone to Hogwarts. He wasn’t the nearly grown man he was now, however. He was just a boy again, small and unassuming.
His boy-self stood in the foyer. He called for his father. He called for his mother. Then the house-elves, all of them. He waited, but no one answered. It was dark and dank and deep. He remembered wondering where everyone else and suddenly feeling very afraid. He moved into the dining hall. No one. He wandered into the parlor room. That, too, was empty. He searched the kitchens, the servants quarters, the drawing room, the cellars, his parents bedchamber, and then his own. All of these were vacant.
Finally he went to the library, his favorite room in the entire house. Ancient volumes and texts lined the entirety of the walls. Anything he wanted to know was at his fingertips. He stood in the center of the vast room. It appeared to be empty. He glanced to his left, and then to his right. The grand fireplace was unlit. Something stirred in the coals, however. He narrowed his eyes, suspicious, and drew closer. To his surprise, a basilisk – though not full-grown, perhaps just past infancy – emerged from the darkness. It raised its head, its fangs striking a tremor through Lucius. Everything after that happened very quickly.
Lucius heard whispering in his ear, and he wondered if it was the great snake. He started to back away. It suddenly felt as if the room became very cold. The snake opened its mouth wide. Then to his dismay, the snake grew larger and larger till it filled the entirety of the library. Lucius looked down at his hands and realized that he too had grown and was no longer a boy anymore. The snake hissed, opened its mouth wider, and then lunged at Lucius.
In the swiftest moment, everything became dark and Lucius knew he was in the mouth of the snake and would soon die.
Lucius awoke with a start, panting and drenched with sweat.
As Lucius stood staring at the star-strewn sky, his mind kept wandering back to that dream, the dream that still made him tremble inwardly. Lucius had never held much faith in superstition, in the art of divination, in the ability to foretell the future or make signs out of coincidences.
Lucius believed in the strength of blood-purity, the corruption of mud-bloods and half-bloods infiltrating the magical world. He believed in the philosophies of his Salazar Slytherin and of his father. Lucius knew this was the point his life was headed toward. The world was changing and Lucius would be there to serve the stronger side.
At least, that was what he was supposed to believe.
Staring out in to the grounds, however, Lucius was at a loss. There was an emptiness in him he had never felt before. He was willing to chalk it up to youthful stupidity, childish ignorance, but this felt like something greater.
He couldn’t voice his doubts to anyone, barely even to himself. But everything suddenly felt like a burden. He had never felt so afraid. Blood-purity, it felt like a tired, old lesson he was sick of hearing. He was sick of his mother’s inane pressure to find a suitable wife. He could scarcely imagine his life beyond the boundaries of school. What was it he really wanted, anyway? If his father only knew what he was thinking…
It was there, he was certain – the life he was meant to lead.
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