Post by Deleted on Dec 14, 2018 19:42:33 GMT -5
Elias Andrew Byrne
by Shi
20
age
Male
gender
07/13/1998
birthday
blood status
Halfblood - Squibsexual orientation
bit of everythingoccupation
Bartender at D'Arcy's Pint | Cashier at O'Shea's Pet Supply
general appearance
Elias is tall and very slender. He likes to say he's light boned but he really just doesn't have much of an appetite. He's got pale skin and dark hair, sharp features and reddened lips. More often than not, he's wearing what one would call hipster-punk clothing, and some kind of choker. His hair is a bit long, though it doesn't reach too far past his jaw, and wavy.
former school
Homeschooledformer house
N.A.achievements
Ran away from home and didn't die.
university
N.A.
university major(s)
N.A.
years attended
N.A.
skills
Building things with matches, cards, all that. Can make you any drink. Good actor. Knows exactly how to judge the acceptable level of cheek in any situation. Very organised. Durable. Good at maths.
weaknesses
His parents. Boredom. Emotional intimacy. Dogs. Bitter things. Personal space. Raised voices. Tense silences. Anxiety and insecurity.
positive traits
Adaptable, resourceful, captivating, empathetic, fair, genuine, eccentric, intelligent, logical, perceptive, practical, sensitive, tidy, witty.
negative traits
Aimless, brittle, decadent, dependent, fiery, delicate, fearful, indulgent, indecisive, possessive, petty, apathetic, submissive, suspicious, vulnerable.
hobbies/interests
Doesn't really have time for these, but he likes reading, taking long, warm baths, building things, going out, playing video games, taking pictures. All that jazz.
accomplishments
Is currently breathing.
character history
Elias' birth was highly anticipated by his parents, they had always wanted children and they had been truly excited about having someone to teach all of their knowledge too. Not that they were all that intelligent, but what they knew they wanted to pass on. Their son grew up loved and pampered, kept safe, being told bedtime stories and given dessert almost every day. Typical. Shit. That was, until they started noticing that his accidental magic didn't appear. No matter what happened, no reaction from the child brought forth any such event. It was dismaying at first, but perhaps he was just a late bloomer. Agatha had hope but Jacob had started to be somewhat... bitter. He was suspicious, mostly, and he was preparing for the worst. Every day that passed he started to find more and more issues with the boy. He was too sensitive, he was too delicate, he was too submissive, he looked too pretty. It didn't help that Nathaniel and Orwell were both quick to show their magic, strong and reactive. Even if Elias' magic had shown, he would still have been known as the weakest of the three. At least, to his parents' standards.
Disaster struck when he turned eleven, though. They were living in a small town in the Irish countryside, back then, with his parents both working comfortable jobs that could maintain the three of them. Durant had taken over, but they had deserted once and testified against other Death Eaters, so they had been allowed to stay out of the work camps. That did not mean that they had left aside their ambition or their tastes for the dark arts. They wanted their children to follow in their footsteps, but on the day of Elias' eleventh birthday no letter came. He had no magic, he could not go to Hogwarts. He was a Squib, he could not carry on their legacy. He had been loved, once, and as if by the flip of a switch, all that love vanished in one day. He was a disappointment, he was an embarrassment, he was pathetic, he was weak, he was- he wasn't their son anymore.
Agatha took the easy way out, though he didn't know if it wasn't the more painful one. She ignored him. Gave him a list of chores at the start of every week, scheduled every day, and then ignored him. If she ever spoke to him, it was to spit out cutting words that would put him in his place. That was, below her. She was no longer his mother, she was not her child. A mother's love and mercy had never seemed to be a fickle thing before, but suddenly it had lost all its meaning. There was nowhere he could turn to, then. Nowhere he could hide, nowhere he could seek solace. He wasn't allowed to leave the house without permission, he wasn't allowed to speak to strangers, he wasn't allowed to go to school. He was alone.
Maybe his father's treatment was worse. Jacob followed Agatha's example in ignoring him, mostly, until he drank. The problem was that he drank every day. He got violent. Sometimes he got loud and he yelled and threw stuff, pushed him against walls or beat him with something. His bare fists, sometimes. Other times he got quiet. He would watch Elias move about, he would watch him do chores by hand, he would watch the boy's weak frame and get angrier and angrier. Elias always felt it coming, there was tension in the air which made his chest tighten more and more every second. Until he would snap. In either approach, the results remained the same. He'd got to bed sore and bruised and best. He'd fall asleep where he lay, in pain, at worst.
They taught his brothers to be the same way. It got even worse when Nathaniel went to Hogwarts, since his little brother would learn spells and charms and rub it in Elias' face. He'd never be as good as him, he was nothing, he was less than nothing. Elias... wanted out. He needed out. He'd sit in silence at night and just tell himself that he needed to survive just a little bit longer. Stand the spells, stand the beatings, stand the chores, stand the belittling. Breathe and try to heal yourself and- keep going. On and on forever. When an opportunity popped up, he would take it, he would recognise it and take it. But until then, he just had to try to survive and keep his head down. He'd long since given up hope on them changing their minds about hating him for something he could not control, he'd long stopped hoping for some mercy or kindness. Instead, he just wanted to stop freezing up in fear when they entered a room he was in.
That opportunity came when he was fifteen. After four whole years of that- when Nathaniel and Orwell both went to school. He found his parents' potions stash. More importantly, he found his mother's sleeping potions. Hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't be caught, he poured the entire vial into his parents whiskey bottle. That night, when they took a last drink before bed, they fell asleep in their chairs. Of course they had never expected something like that to happen. Weak, submissive little Elias- how could he ever drug them? But he did, and he took as much money as he could from their wallets and he ran. Through the night, through the countryside, until he got to Dublin. Too late, he realised that all the money he took was magical- and for obvious reasons, he wanted to stay as far away from magical folk as he possibly could. So he found a homeless shelter that took in children, unwilling to end up in the system and have to give an explanation for anything. Mostly, he wanted to find a way to make his own money and become independent.
It took a while, he was far too young and the social workers were far too insistent on getting him to an orphanage or a foster home. But he wasn't in the muggle system, they didn't know who he was or where he was from. But he would often sit outside the pet store to watch the kittens and the puppies and the fish. So often, in fact, that the owner took pity on him and offered him a job. It was nothing much, just working as a cashier. It was a magical place but the owner was kind and didn't ask questions. He was afraid, but he needed the money. So he took it, saving up as much as he could even though he was still living in the homeless shelter. It was some months later, in plain winter, that one of his regular customers complained about something. A small, old theatre that was out of business. She owned the building and was trying to sell it- an old building like that couldn't be taken down, it was protected, but nobody wanted to buy it and it was costing her too much money to maintain it. Elias... saw an opportunity. In exchange for being allowed to live there, with water and electricity, he would take care of the maintenance himself. All of it. She agreed and in days he had moved into the attic.
There he stayed. There he survived. He wasn't really trying to do anything- he had no time to study, it was hard to make a living. In fact, as soon as he turned seventeen he got himself another job. As a bartender in one of the local pubs. The owner was kind, also a man he had known as a regular client of the pet supply store. So despite it being magical, he... forced himself to go. He didn't want to, he wanted to puke every time he thought about a wizard finding out he was a squib, but once more- he needed the money. The good thing about that job was that he was pretty and he flirted easily, which got him a lot of tips. He had found out a year or so ago that he was afraid of people- he was afraid of loud noises but he was also afraid of silence. He hated being alone but he was afraid of people. His solution was to... replace emotional contact and intimacy with physical contact. He went home with people, got it out of the way, and then went back to hiding. He was afraid of all of them, nothing else could possibly function. Elias was fine as he was, with his work and nothing more. Not even studying, he needed every minute he had in order to work, in order to survive.
His parents never found him. Perhaps they didn't care enough to even try.
Disaster struck when he turned eleven, though. They were living in a small town in the Irish countryside, back then, with his parents both working comfortable jobs that could maintain the three of them. Durant had taken over, but they had deserted once and testified against other Death Eaters, so they had been allowed to stay out of the work camps. That did not mean that they had left aside their ambition or their tastes for the dark arts. They wanted their children to follow in their footsteps, but on the day of Elias' eleventh birthday no letter came. He had no magic, he could not go to Hogwarts. He was a Squib, he could not carry on their legacy. He had been loved, once, and as if by the flip of a switch, all that love vanished in one day. He was a disappointment, he was an embarrassment, he was pathetic, he was weak, he was- he wasn't their son anymore.
Agatha took the easy way out, though he didn't know if it wasn't the more painful one. She ignored him. Gave him a list of chores at the start of every week, scheduled every day, and then ignored him. If she ever spoke to him, it was to spit out cutting words that would put him in his place. That was, below her. She was no longer his mother, she was not her child. A mother's love and mercy had never seemed to be a fickle thing before, but suddenly it had lost all its meaning. There was nowhere he could turn to, then. Nowhere he could hide, nowhere he could seek solace. He wasn't allowed to leave the house without permission, he wasn't allowed to speak to strangers, he wasn't allowed to go to school. He was alone.
Maybe his father's treatment was worse. Jacob followed Agatha's example in ignoring him, mostly, until he drank. The problem was that he drank every day. He got violent. Sometimes he got loud and he yelled and threw stuff, pushed him against walls or beat him with something. His bare fists, sometimes. Other times he got quiet. He would watch Elias move about, he would watch him do chores by hand, he would watch the boy's weak frame and get angrier and angrier. Elias always felt it coming, there was tension in the air which made his chest tighten more and more every second. Until he would snap. In either approach, the results remained the same. He'd got to bed sore and bruised and best. He'd fall asleep where he lay, in pain, at worst.
They taught his brothers to be the same way. It got even worse when Nathaniel went to Hogwarts, since his little brother would learn spells and charms and rub it in Elias' face. He'd never be as good as him, he was nothing, he was less than nothing. Elias... wanted out. He needed out. He'd sit in silence at night and just tell himself that he needed to survive just a little bit longer. Stand the spells, stand the beatings, stand the chores, stand the belittling. Breathe and try to heal yourself and- keep going. On and on forever. When an opportunity popped up, he would take it, he would recognise it and take it. But until then, he just had to try to survive and keep his head down. He'd long since given up hope on them changing their minds about hating him for something he could not control, he'd long stopped hoping for some mercy or kindness. Instead, he just wanted to stop freezing up in fear when they entered a room he was in.
That opportunity came when he was fifteen. After four whole years of that- when Nathaniel and Orwell both went to school. He found his parents' potions stash. More importantly, he found his mother's sleeping potions. Hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't be caught, he poured the entire vial into his parents whiskey bottle. That night, when they took a last drink before bed, they fell asleep in their chairs. Of course they had never expected something like that to happen. Weak, submissive little Elias- how could he ever drug them? But he did, and he took as much money as he could from their wallets and he ran. Through the night, through the countryside, until he got to Dublin. Too late, he realised that all the money he took was magical- and for obvious reasons, he wanted to stay as far away from magical folk as he possibly could. So he found a homeless shelter that took in children, unwilling to end up in the system and have to give an explanation for anything. Mostly, he wanted to find a way to make his own money and become independent.
It took a while, he was far too young and the social workers were far too insistent on getting him to an orphanage or a foster home. But he wasn't in the muggle system, they didn't know who he was or where he was from. But he would often sit outside the pet store to watch the kittens and the puppies and the fish. So often, in fact, that the owner took pity on him and offered him a job. It was nothing much, just working as a cashier. It was a magical place but the owner was kind and didn't ask questions. He was afraid, but he needed the money. So he took it, saving up as much as he could even though he was still living in the homeless shelter. It was some months later, in plain winter, that one of his regular customers complained about something. A small, old theatre that was out of business. She owned the building and was trying to sell it- an old building like that couldn't be taken down, it was protected, but nobody wanted to buy it and it was costing her too much money to maintain it. Elias... saw an opportunity. In exchange for being allowed to live there, with water and electricity, he would take care of the maintenance himself. All of it. She agreed and in days he had moved into the attic.
There he stayed. There he survived. He wasn't really trying to do anything- he had no time to study, it was hard to make a living. In fact, as soon as he turned seventeen he got himself another job. As a bartender in one of the local pubs. The owner was kind, also a man he had known as a regular client of the pet supply store. So despite it being magical, he... forced himself to go. He didn't want to, he wanted to puke every time he thought about a wizard finding out he was a squib, but once more- he needed the money. The good thing about that job was that he was pretty and he flirted easily, which got him a lot of tips. He had found out a year or so ago that he was afraid of people- he was afraid of loud noises but he was also afraid of silence. He hated being alone but he was afraid of people. His solution was to... replace emotional contact and intimacy with physical contact. He went home with people, got it out of the way, and then went back to hiding. He was afraid of all of them, nothing else could possibly function. Elias was fine as he was, with his work and nothing more. Not even studying, he needed every minute he had in order to work, in order to survive.
His parents never found him. Perhaps they didn't care enough to even try.
parents
Agatha and Jacob Byrne, both unfortunately alive
siblings
Nathaniel and Orwell Byrne, 18 and 15 respectively.
children
N.A.
partner
... well...
other family
Sure hope not.
family history
Agatha and Jacob, both middle class halfbloods, met in university during the second war. They were both highly ambitious and knew that they wouldn't get as far as they actually wanted in life if they relief on their own luck and skills. They weren't the most intelligent or the most talented and they believed that it was in their best interest to accept that. Instead, they could probably make a name for themselves in the growing forces of the dark lord. There were whispers of his return in the circles of magical folk that frequented the darker shops of Knockturn Alley. So they joined up, even knowing that as halfbloods they would not get nearly as much renown as any of the pureblood followers Voldemort had.
Already married, they decided to get marked and fight. However, after doing so, they found that Agatha was pregnant. It was dangerous for them to still participate while expecting their first child. Therefore, even though they were marked, they pretended to be dead and went into hiding until the war was over. Shortly thereafter, Elias was born.
Already married, they decided to get marked and fight. However, after doing so, they found that Agatha was pregnant. It was dangerous for them to still participate while expecting their first child. Therefore, even though they were marked, they pretended to be dead and went into hiding until the war was over. Shortly thereafter, Elias was born.
other
Did we mention he's a squib?
face claim
Ezra Millerstatus of application
completehave you read the rules?
nohow did you hear about us?
I didn't
roleplay sample
