Post by Kieran Prince on Jul 13, 2009 18:21:34 GMT -5
{I CANT BELIEVE THE NEWS TODAY}
{AND THE BATTLES JUST BEGUN}
FULL NAME: Kieran Severus Prince
AGE: 17
YEAR or OCCUPATION: Seventh
BIRTHDAY: Friday, June 13th, 1924
SCHOOL/FORMER SCHOOL: Hogwarts
HOUSE/FORMER HOUSE: Slytherin
FAMILY: Ronan Tiberius Prince- father- 52
Helena Elizabeth Prince nee Carrow- mother- 37
Toireasa Prince- sister- 13
Neil Prince- brother- 11
ANYTHING ELSE: Deemed unlucky upon his entry into this world at 1:13 pm (13:13) on Friday the 13th, after thirty-two hours of labor on that summer's most miserably humid day, Kieran is determined to prove his worth as a Prince. Some blamed his troublesome birth on his mother’s inability to carry three subsequent pregnancies to term. What ‘help’ the Princes sought out in order to enable her to conceive and deliver the two younger heirs is still shrouded in mystery, though whispers still linger.
Ronan does not show affection or pride in his heir apparent as he does Toireasa and Neil. It wasn’t until he was fourteen that Kieran learned of the reason for his father’s coldness- Ronan had encountered a Seer as a youth, who predicted his spawning a son who would set in motion the end of the noble Prince line. Viewing the circumstances surrounding his birth as evidence of Kieran being that son, he tolerates the boy as best he can to please his wife, for she loves the eldest Prince child above all others.
Finding comfort and reassurance in his mother’s love, Kieran has a complex relationship with his younger siblings. Toireasa, their father’s princess, is kind to him, but only risks showing him affection when not under their father’s gaze. Neil, who use to look up to Kieran, has become increasingly distant, separating himself from his older brother while monopolizing the attention of their father.
{WE EAT AND DRINK WHILE TOMORROW THEY DIE}
From another RP:
“Usually they sell their ‘Venom’ … in a bid to rule through influence; with money bribes, petty laws and even pettier words. If you’re looking for Venom then I’d suggest playing with some Death Eaters, Mrs. Arithmancy.”
Though her grin never faltered, in her mind she was laughing wildly. He was telling her nothing she didn’t already know. She had been raised by a Slytherin who surrounded himself with Slytherins, befriended Slytherins, even studied for six years under a Slytherin- she had no choice but to learn how to mingle amongst venomous reptiles. A raven may fly, but it did them little good if they relied solely on the ability to soar away when trouble reared its ugly head than to circle in silence and get the lay of the land before touching down.
Those who didn’t believe in this ‘venom trade’ were ignorant fools, and fools made excellent scape-goats. Surely, he knew that as well.
The young man was brash, bold, and self confident, yet he still had a few things to learn. Cindra would give him this at least, he was far more ahead in the greater game than his outward appearance would first dictate, let alone his age, but the ‘I-know-everything’ attitude of youth was still vibrant in him. No one could escape it entirely, even she thought she understood the complexities of life at his age, but as adulthood crept in so too did the realization of how truly blind her confidence had made her. One had to grow up to discover their elders honestly did know, and understand, more than they imagined.
Something about this interesting young man made her hope he would learn that without incident.
Her mind continued analyzing him, both in word and deed. While Slytherins certainly understood non-verbal communication better than most, many didn’t read into it as completely as she. It was natural for her, ‘instinct’ her father had once said, to note the turn of an eye, the tilt of a head; insecurities could manifest themselves in something as simple as the pause of a second, or lies with the swift blink of an eye. What she saw was complex but not for one use to delving for meaning where few tread. Arithmancy was much the same, discovering the extraordinary in the mundane.
He moved a lot. Almost as if the action of making all his metallic trinkets ring helped him; whether to concentrate, alleviate tension, or was just a developed habit, she couldn’t tell. But his need to move was there. So he wasn’t one to still the body in order to give the mind room to stretch. Cindra filed this away. The mind was a muscle, one that didn’t like to process complex calculations when it was being bothered to move limbs around for no apparent purpose other than distraction.
Which accounted for the fact that when passing notes and fidgeting with their things, students seldom ever heard a word spoken to them. Adults even forgot at times. A trick she employed with her father on numerous occasions.
In a way, Slytherins missed much.
She knew, however, that he was thinking, she could see it in his eyes, but at times the intensity of them shifted, very slightly, but it was there. Cindra sighed softly as a few of the pieces came together. The moving about, the closing of his eyes, the minute change in his gaze… his thoughts wandered at times. Our minds could better handle memories and recollections than solving an equation while worrying about our bodies simultaneously. Automatic replay took little effort.
Losing focus was a sign of youth, granted, but he had stumbled into an adult arena. If he did, indeed, engage in the sort of activity she suspected, it could very well indicate the possibly unrefined qualities of his methods. Not that the sort of things she was imagining him to be familiar with would require as advanced a level of sleek sophistication as she might require, but it did make her question the depth to which he might dive successfully.
“In the words of a true businessman; anything the customer requires. And that’s not a heavy quip.”
Bold words, even for a Slytherin. And lacking the usual soft silk cloak elder vipers employed in good, sensible taste. Didn’t everyone know snakes heard with the jaws and could sense the tiniest of pests long before they realize they had been discovered? Who but a Slytherin would know best that you keep friends close, and enemies closer. One could hear a lot in close proximity.
Either the kid was damn good, or walking a very tight rope.
”Surely there’s not something you’re after, Mrs. Arithmancy?”
Ah, so he wanted to play at that again. Test the waters and see if a button lay buried there beneath the surface. Definitely not practiced in subtlety. Had that particular art been lost?
Despite this, she was still amused. Who would have known she would discover such a promising competitor in so innocuous a situation. That day’s date didn’t enter into her calculations that morning. Pity, she would have looked forward to this.
Her chin still perched in her hand, she gave it a slight upward tilt, directing her gaze at him more directly, assenting to acknowledge him on more equal footing; he had earned enough of her respect to be given this much. Nevertheless, there was one thing he needed to realize, and soon. She wasn’t going to stoop down to meet him. There were rules to the game, perhaps left over from antiquity, but they were there, and even the most ruthless player heeded this one at least…
Unless sure that you hold all the pieces, show honor where due.
Once, she overlooked, no harm no foul, twice and boundaries had been pushed, thrice and he had stepped over the line.
A reprimand, a heated reaction, hell, even a curse, were probably the desired outcome, but again, he wouldn’t get it. No, those more familiar with high stakes games handled it differently; with the sweet taste of laced candy.
“We all are after something,” she began, her body still relaxed and comfortable. “Even fools who never truly realize what they are looking for. No one is void of wants, needs… to whatever purpose. We are, by nature, a passionate people with weaknesses,” she shrugged lightly. Oh, she imagined he’d laugh that off. Youthful ignorance. Even the most dangerous of wizards had their Achilles heel, be it their obsession with power or their belief in their own invulnerability.
“Some don’t know their own weakness until it’s too late. Others,” and she stressed the word with a sweet smile, “are more attuned to them and don’t risk capitulating to the dangers inherent in them hastily.”
A pause. Let him note she got his thinly veiled confirmation, and that she wasn’t going to just dive in, warning signals be damned. He may have pushed a few pawns into sight, but she had better pieces yet to play, if she even decided to engage in a game that intricate with him. Cindra’s mind was not made, but she wasn’t brushing him aside either. He had shown promise, and that was what kept her in this round.
“Anything, to one person, may have an entirely different meaning to another. Most fear approaching a sleeping dragon, some eagerly endeavor to put the beast asleep, even fewer succeed and live to tell the tale. Where do you fall, Mister…”
She left it in the air. He would fill in the end or not, names were a commodity after all, but either way he should note her extending the respect due mature players, and not the ill-bred scene most common among the less experienced. Either he would step up a level and show he could catch on quickly or she would rely on more tested sources.
Cindra would look before leaping, for opportunities weren’t always golden.
hi, my name is Cris and i joined because this looks to be an interesting plot.
{AND THE BATTLES JUST BEGUN}
FULL NAME: Kieran Severus Prince
AGE: 17
YEAR or OCCUPATION: Seventh
BIRTHDAY: Friday, June 13th, 1924
SCHOOL/FORMER SCHOOL: Hogwarts
HOUSE/FORMER HOUSE: Slytherin
FAMILY: Ronan Tiberius Prince- father- 52
Helena Elizabeth Prince nee Carrow- mother- 37
Toireasa Prince- sister- 13
Neil Prince- brother- 11
ANYTHING ELSE: Deemed unlucky upon his entry into this world at 1:13 pm (13:13) on Friday the 13th, after thirty-two hours of labor on that summer's most miserably humid day, Kieran is determined to prove his worth as a Prince. Some blamed his troublesome birth on his mother’s inability to carry three subsequent pregnancies to term. What ‘help’ the Princes sought out in order to enable her to conceive and deliver the two younger heirs is still shrouded in mystery, though whispers still linger.
Ronan does not show affection or pride in his heir apparent as he does Toireasa and Neil. It wasn’t until he was fourteen that Kieran learned of the reason for his father’s coldness- Ronan had encountered a Seer as a youth, who predicted his spawning a son who would set in motion the end of the noble Prince line. Viewing the circumstances surrounding his birth as evidence of Kieran being that son, he tolerates the boy as best he can to please his wife, for she loves the eldest Prince child above all others.
Finding comfort and reassurance in his mother’s love, Kieran has a complex relationship with his younger siblings. Toireasa, their father’s princess, is kind to him, but only risks showing him affection when not under their father’s gaze. Neil, who use to look up to Kieran, has become increasingly distant, separating himself from his older brother while monopolizing the attention of their father.
{WE EAT AND DRINK WHILE TOMORROW THEY DIE}
From another RP:
“Usually they sell their ‘Venom’ … in a bid to rule through influence; with money bribes, petty laws and even pettier words. If you’re looking for Venom then I’d suggest playing with some Death Eaters, Mrs. Arithmancy.”
Though her grin never faltered, in her mind she was laughing wildly. He was telling her nothing she didn’t already know. She had been raised by a Slytherin who surrounded himself with Slytherins, befriended Slytherins, even studied for six years under a Slytherin- she had no choice but to learn how to mingle amongst venomous reptiles. A raven may fly, but it did them little good if they relied solely on the ability to soar away when trouble reared its ugly head than to circle in silence and get the lay of the land before touching down.
Those who didn’t believe in this ‘venom trade’ were ignorant fools, and fools made excellent scape-goats. Surely, he knew that as well.
The young man was brash, bold, and self confident, yet he still had a few things to learn. Cindra would give him this at least, he was far more ahead in the greater game than his outward appearance would first dictate, let alone his age, but the ‘I-know-everything’ attitude of youth was still vibrant in him. No one could escape it entirely, even she thought she understood the complexities of life at his age, but as adulthood crept in so too did the realization of how truly blind her confidence had made her. One had to grow up to discover their elders honestly did know, and understand, more than they imagined.
Something about this interesting young man made her hope he would learn that without incident.
Her mind continued analyzing him, both in word and deed. While Slytherins certainly understood non-verbal communication better than most, many didn’t read into it as completely as she. It was natural for her, ‘instinct’ her father had once said, to note the turn of an eye, the tilt of a head; insecurities could manifest themselves in something as simple as the pause of a second, or lies with the swift blink of an eye. What she saw was complex but not for one use to delving for meaning where few tread. Arithmancy was much the same, discovering the extraordinary in the mundane.
He moved a lot. Almost as if the action of making all his metallic trinkets ring helped him; whether to concentrate, alleviate tension, or was just a developed habit, she couldn’t tell. But his need to move was there. So he wasn’t one to still the body in order to give the mind room to stretch. Cindra filed this away. The mind was a muscle, one that didn’t like to process complex calculations when it was being bothered to move limbs around for no apparent purpose other than distraction.
Which accounted for the fact that when passing notes and fidgeting with their things, students seldom ever heard a word spoken to them. Adults even forgot at times. A trick she employed with her father on numerous occasions.
In a way, Slytherins missed much.
She knew, however, that he was thinking, she could see it in his eyes, but at times the intensity of them shifted, very slightly, but it was there. Cindra sighed softly as a few of the pieces came together. The moving about, the closing of his eyes, the minute change in his gaze… his thoughts wandered at times. Our minds could better handle memories and recollections than solving an equation while worrying about our bodies simultaneously. Automatic replay took little effort.
Losing focus was a sign of youth, granted, but he had stumbled into an adult arena. If he did, indeed, engage in the sort of activity she suspected, it could very well indicate the possibly unrefined qualities of his methods. Not that the sort of things she was imagining him to be familiar with would require as advanced a level of sleek sophistication as she might require, but it did make her question the depth to which he might dive successfully.
“In the words of a true businessman; anything the customer requires. And that’s not a heavy quip.”
Bold words, even for a Slytherin. And lacking the usual soft silk cloak elder vipers employed in good, sensible taste. Didn’t everyone know snakes heard with the jaws and could sense the tiniest of pests long before they realize they had been discovered? Who but a Slytherin would know best that you keep friends close, and enemies closer. One could hear a lot in close proximity.
Either the kid was damn good, or walking a very tight rope.
”Surely there’s not something you’re after, Mrs. Arithmancy?”
Ah, so he wanted to play at that again. Test the waters and see if a button lay buried there beneath the surface. Definitely not practiced in subtlety. Had that particular art been lost?
Despite this, she was still amused. Who would have known she would discover such a promising competitor in so innocuous a situation. That day’s date didn’t enter into her calculations that morning. Pity, she would have looked forward to this.
Her chin still perched in her hand, she gave it a slight upward tilt, directing her gaze at him more directly, assenting to acknowledge him on more equal footing; he had earned enough of her respect to be given this much. Nevertheless, there was one thing he needed to realize, and soon. She wasn’t going to stoop down to meet him. There were rules to the game, perhaps left over from antiquity, but they were there, and even the most ruthless player heeded this one at least…
Unless sure that you hold all the pieces, show honor where due.
Once, she overlooked, no harm no foul, twice and boundaries had been pushed, thrice and he had stepped over the line.
A reprimand, a heated reaction, hell, even a curse, were probably the desired outcome, but again, he wouldn’t get it. No, those more familiar with high stakes games handled it differently; with the sweet taste of laced candy.
“We all are after something,” she began, her body still relaxed and comfortable. “Even fools who never truly realize what they are looking for. No one is void of wants, needs… to whatever purpose. We are, by nature, a passionate people with weaknesses,” she shrugged lightly. Oh, she imagined he’d laugh that off. Youthful ignorance. Even the most dangerous of wizards had their Achilles heel, be it their obsession with power or their belief in their own invulnerability.
“Some don’t know their own weakness until it’s too late. Others,” and she stressed the word with a sweet smile, “are more attuned to them and don’t risk capitulating to the dangers inherent in them hastily.”
A pause. Let him note she got his thinly veiled confirmation, and that she wasn’t going to just dive in, warning signals be damned. He may have pushed a few pawns into sight, but she had better pieces yet to play, if she even decided to engage in a game that intricate with him. Cindra’s mind was not made, but she wasn’t brushing him aside either. He had shown promise, and that was what kept her in this round.
“Anything, to one person, may have an entirely different meaning to another. Most fear approaching a sleeping dragon, some eagerly endeavor to put the beast asleep, even fewer succeed and live to tell the tale. Where do you fall, Mister…”
She left it in the air. He would fill in the end or not, names were a commodity after all, but either way he should note her extending the respect due mature players, and not the ill-bred scene most common among the less experienced. Either he would step up a level and show he could catch on quickly or she would rely on more tested sources.
Cindra would look before leaping, for opportunities weren’t always golden.
