Post by FENIX MARCUS ARKFIEND on Nov 1, 2011 3:34:40 GMT 2
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[/size]ANOTHER SWINGER WITH A SLICK TRIGGER FINGER[/b]
FOR HIS MAJESTY[/FONT][/COLOR][/SIZE]
FENIX • MARCUS • ARKFIEND ![/B]
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All Is Flux And Nothing Stays Still
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ANOTHER ONE WITH THE GOLDEN TONGUE[/b]
• AND THEY'RE POISONING YOUR FANTASY • [/FONT][/COLOR][/SIZE]
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FULL NAME;
ETYMOLOGY;
- Fenix - Sp. It. Lt. Mythological Fire Bird That Never Dies. Always Reborn From Ashes.
- Marcus - Latin. From The Roman God of War, Mars. Meaning War-Like.
NICKNAMES;
- Marcus
- Mr. Fenix
AGE AND BIRTHDAY;
- 38 Years Old
- October 31, 2000
BLOOD STATUS;
- Half-Blood
FORMER HOUSE;
- Gryffindor
OCCUPATION;
- Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor
WAND;
PET/S;
- Syberian Wolf, "Abel"
BROOM;
- Firebolt
ALLIANACE;
- Ambiguous
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[/SIZE]ANOTHER TRICKY LITTLE GUN[/b]
• GIVING SILENCE TO THE ONE • [/FONT][/COLOR][/SIZE]
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HAIR DESCRIPTION;
EYE DESCRIPTION;
HEIGHT/WEIGHT;
- 6 Ft
- 125 Lbs
BODY TYPE;
- Lean
- Semi-defined abs
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES;
- Eyes
- Scar on the back f his hand like a cross
- Birthmark shapped like a phantom-like moth on his right under arm
- Tattoo of the Om on his left shoulder
- Six piercings on each ear
PLAY BY;
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[/SIZE]ANOTHER INCH OF YOUR SACRIFICED LIFE[/b]
• IN JUST THE NICK OF TIME • [/FONT][/COLOR][/SIZE]
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LIKES;
- Ramen
- History
- Dementors
- Winter
- Halloween
- Day of the Dead
- Treacle Tarts
- Manzanillo Tea
- Meditating
- Honey Ham
DISLIKES;
- Viktor Krum
- Governors
- Dungbombs
- Fanged Frisbees
- Fanged Geraniums
- Cold Eggs
- Muggle Actors
- Know-It-Alls
- Pixies
- Pink
STRENGTHS;
- Analytical
- Knowledgeable of various languages (i.e. Mermish)
- Wandless Magic
- Quidditch Skills
- Mastery of Legilimency and Occlumency
WEAKNESSES;
- Short fuse
- Easily bored
- Highly critical
- Somewhat arrogant
- Secretive
PATRONUS;
- Thestral
- Unknown
DEMENTOR;
BOGGART;
ERISED;
OVERALL PERSONALITY
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[/SIZE]ANOTHER DIRTY MONEY HEAVEN SENT[/b]
• SIMPLY TURNING ON THE DIME • [/FONT][/COLOR][/SIZE]
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TURN ONS;
TURN OFFS;
PREFERRED LOOKS;
TYPICAL TYPE;
AMORTENTIA;
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[/SIZE]ANOTHER GUN THROWN DOWN[/b]
• TO TAKE AWAY YOUR FEARS • [/FONT][/COLOR][/SIZE]
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FATHER;
MOTHER;
SIBLINGS;
OTHER FAMILY/PETS;
BIRTHPLACE/HOMETOWN;
CURRENT RESIDENCE;
OVERALL HISTORY;
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[/SIZE]ANOTHER MAN THAT STANDS BEHIND [/b]
• LOOKING AT YOU IN THE MIRROR • [/FONT][/COLOR][/SIZE]
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NAME/ALIAS;
AGE;
RP EXPERIENCE;
- Administrator of Fenix Orders RP Community (Harry Potter Forum) for over 6 years
- Played: Harry Potter, Albus Potter + 80 Others
MEMBER TITLE;
RULE PHRASE;
ANYTHING ELSE;
RP SAMPLE;
Ikard Ventress' cloak flapped in the fresh winter breeze of January as he stared at the horizon from the top of the cliff which Voldemort, his dear master, had once utilized to hide a part of himself. A tear rolled down his face as he remembered how Vetgon and Grim had defeated him with so much easy.
I should have been there, he thought to himself as he wiped the tears from his face. The breeze carried his tears away like it did the ocean water after it splashed against the stone walls of the cliff. He took a deep breath and turned his head slightly, behind him, there he saw, a long rubble path that lead to a familiar town, one which he had not visited in a long time. Not since his Lord fell.
With each step, there was a new name added to his list, with each step there was more anger growing inside of him, with each step there was a new ending to a plot he had written... The dark mark that he had tattooed to his skin began to itch slightly as he stepped into an abandoned graveyard.
"Riddle..." he said in a low voice as he read the fading, carved name on one of the aged and eroded gravestones. He fell to his knees and sobbed as he thought of his lord, that brave man that sacrificed his soul and succeeded only to be killed mercilessly only after achieving his dream.
Perhaps..., he thought to himself. He was losing his methodology, he wanted to see his lord in power again, but there was only one way he could achieve this... but that would be far too dangerous, and he knew how tedious the process of resurrection was, however, he knew that if he wanted to see his Lord's dream finally come true where it was supposed to be, then he would have to take matters into his own hands, he would have to carry on the curse that was being a Dark Lord just like his master and hero.
Slowly, he got off the ground and continued to walk forward. There was a small town ahead, Little Hangleton, he thought. I refuse to let them win this match, he thought as he continued to walk over the now, unpaved, road. He heard children playing in the backyards of farms and youths riding happily on black horses that instinctively avoided going in his direction.
I wonder what they are thinking, he continued the trivial conversation in his head as a means to entertain himself, delight himself, whilst he walked towards the house that his Lord once called, Headquarters. I have Nicolie and four useless, mindless wizards that seem strong for their stupidity... As he continued he pressed his teeth on his bottom lip and looked up at the tall manor which once belonged to his master's sinful parents. The corners of his eyes wrinkled as he tried to avoid the sunlight, he then quickly raise his right hand over his forehead. It stood on a hill overlooking the village, some of its windows boarded, tiles missing from its roof, and ivy spreading unchecked over its face. Once a fine-looking manor, and easily the largest and grandest building for miles around, the Riddle House was now damp, derelict, and unoccupied. A grim smile ripped through the stoic mask of his face as he took his 14-inch, elder wand and twitched his wrist.
There was a metallic click that echoed from the mahogany door, it had remained undisturbed for years. It swung open, and for a moment Ikard believed that the house recognized him, as they were both in the same band, in the same party, in the same side... He was its new master, and for the first time in years it would not be empty. He strolled inside, the door closed shut after his coat made it inside. Once inside, his cloak blended in with the darkness. He smiled as he made his way up the creaky steps. To him they were spectral claps from those who came before him and now welcomed him to his new home.
"Ah... this is more like it," he said as he sat triumphantly on the bolstered ebony chair that his Lord once occupied. "Very good..." his tone became much more cold, he turned taciturnly and calmly to the darkness before him and smiled as a black snake slithered up the chair and coiled its tail around his arm as it slid over his neck, its head now arching obediently over his chest. "Nehebkau..." he smiled as he pet the head of the black snake and comfortable laid back on the bolstered chair.
"Maybe it's time for an announcement..." he said as he moved the Elder wand closer to the Dark Mark in his right arm. As the wand got closer, the snake protruding from the orifices of the skull began to move aggressively. He pressed the tip of his wand on the skull mark and suddenly the tattoo came alive once again. The black lines that had faded had returned more vividly than ever, like a fresh tattoo, it seemed to him. He began to speak, the dark mark would act as a communicator.
"Listen up..." he said sharply. "We're going to revive the Death Eaters whichever way we can... as I understand from Zambini, there is still someone in Azkaban.... even though he is soul-less, he can help our quest... Necros, Blackdragon... break Bartemius Crouch Jr... And Zambini, you look for dementors... track the one that has the remanants of Crouch's soul... then meet here in the Riddle House, a tall dark building in Little Hangleton, after you are done with the mission..."
He smirked as he pet the black snake again.
"I have plans for later... so don't touch the potters or lupin... just wait a few... did you hear me Nicolie? Do not touch the potters... I have plans; I guess you can call them that, for that family... I intend to revive Madame Bellatrix, and I need them alive for that... as for Lord Voldemort..."
There is no direct descendant! His insides screamed.
"...I'm afraid that it won’t be possible to bring him back.... at the moment ...." he laughed malevolently. "I intend to bring back someone who is far more powerful than my lord... and probably someone much smarter than he..."
His laugh echoed through the corridors of the dark mansion. The snake hissed and he ceased to laugh, he continued to pet the enormous cobra as he removed the wand from the skull mark.
I should have been there, he thought to himself as he wiped the tears from his face. The breeze carried his tears away like it did the ocean water after it splashed against the stone walls of the cliff. He took a deep breath and turned his head slightly, behind him, there he saw, a long rubble path that lead to a familiar town, one which he had not visited in a long time. Not since his Lord fell.
With each step, there was a new name added to his list, with each step there was more anger growing inside of him, with each step there was a new ending to a plot he had written... The dark mark that he had tattooed to his skin began to itch slightly as he stepped into an abandoned graveyard.
"Riddle..." he said in a low voice as he read the fading, carved name on one of the aged and eroded gravestones. He fell to his knees and sobbed as he thought of his lord, that brave man that sacrificed his soul and succeeded only to be killed mercilessly only after achieving his dream.
Perhaps..., he thought to himself. He was losing his methodology, he wanted to see his lord in power again, but there was only one way he could achieve this... but that would be far too dangerous, and he knew how tedious the process of resurrection was, however, he knew that if he wanted to see his Lord's dream finally come true where it was supposed to be, then he would have to take matters into his own hands, he would have to carry on the curse that was being a Dark Lord just like his master and hero.
Slowly, he got off the ground and continued to walk forward. There was a small town ahead, Little Hangleton, he thought. I refuse to let them win this match, he thought as he continued to walk over the now, unpaved, road. He heard children playing in the backyards of farms and youths riding happily on black horses that instinctively avoided going in his direction.
I wonder what they are thinking, he continued the trivial conversation in his head as a means to entertain himself, delight himself, whilst he walked towards the house that his Lord once called, Headquarters. I have Nicolie and four useless, mindless wizards that seem strong for their stupidity... As he continued he pressed his teeth on his bottom lip and looked up at the tall manor which once belonged to his master's sinful parents. The corners of his eyes wrinkled as he tried to avoid the sunlight, he then quickly raise his right hand over his forehead. It stood on a hill overlooking the village, some of its windows boarded, tiles missing from its roof, and ivy spreading unchecked over its face. Once a fine-looking manor, and easily the largest and grandest building for miles around, the Riddle House was now damp, derelict, and unoccupied. A grim smile ripped through the stoic mask of his face as he took his 14-inch, elder wand and twitched his wrist.
There was a metallic click that echoed from the mahogany door, it had remained undisturbed for years. It swung open, and for a moment Ikard believed that the house recognized him, as they were both in the same band, in the same party, in the same side... He was its new master, and for the first time in years it would not be empty. He strolled inside, the door closed shut after his coat made it inside. Once inside, his cloak blended in with the darkness. He smiled as he made his way up the creaky steps. To him they were spectral claps from those who came before him and now welcomed him to his new home.
"Ah... this is more like it," he said as he sat triumphantly on the bolstered ebony chair that his Lord once occupied. "Very good..." his tone became much more cold, he turned taciturnly and calmly to the darkness before him and smiled as a black snake slithered up the chair and coiled its tail around his arm as it slid over his neck, its head now arching obediently over his chest. "Nehebkau..." he smiled as he pet the head of the black snake and comfortable laid back on the bolstered chair.
"Maybe it's time for an announcement..." he said as he moved the Elder wand closer to the Dark Mark in his right arm. As the wand got closer, the snake protruding from the orifices of the skull began to move aggressively. He pressed the tip of his wand on the skull mark and suddenly the tattoo came alive once again. The black lines that had faded had returned more vividly than ever, like a fresh tattoo, it seemed to him. He began to speak, the dark mark would act as a communicator.
"Listen up..." he said sharply. "We're going to revive the Death Eaters whichever way we can... as I understand from Zambini, there is still someone in Azkaban.... even though he is soul-less, he can help our quest... Necros, Blackdragon... break Bartemius Crouch Jr... And Zambini, you look for dementors... track the one that has the remanants of Crouch's soul... then meet here in the Riddle House, a tall dark building in Little Hangleton, after you are done with the mission..."
He smirked as he pet the black snake again.
"I have plans for later... so don't touch the potters or lupin... just wait a few... did you hear me Nicolie? Do not touch the potters... I have plans; I guess you can call them that, for that family... I intend to revive Madame Bellatrix, and I need them alive for that... as for Lord Voldemort..."
There is no direct descendant! His insides screamed.
"...I'm afraid that it won’t be possible to bring him back.... at the moment ...." he laughed malevolently. "I intend to bring back someone who is far more powerful than my lord... and probably someone much smarter than he..."
His laugh echoed through the corridors of the dark mansion. The snake hissed and he ceased to laugh, he continued to pet the enormous cobra as he removed the wand from the skull mark.
THIS APPLICATION WAS CREATED BY VIC BABY ! OF CAUTION!
DO NOT STEAL OR ELSE! MAKE SURE YOU CREDIT! <333[/color][/font]
