|
Post by Lord Voldemort on Aug 17, 2008 1:05:47 GMT -5
The Player
Name: Tom
RP Experience: To many years to count
Other Characters?: None
The Character
Name: Tom Marvolo Riddle
Gender: Male
Age: December, 31, 1926
Species: Human
House: Slytherin
Year: N/A
Wand: 13 ½”long, yew wood with one phoenix feather (Fawkes) See History.
Special Abilities:
He known as one of the greatest Legilimens in the world and a highly accomplished Occlumens, and is thus able to read minds as well as shield his own from penetration. He can fly without support, can speak over a large area as if he were standing next to the person. He is also a Parselmouth, and can perform wandless magic. Though it’s effects are not as powerful without one of course. He is Telekinetic, being able to move onjects with his mind as well as having control over animals, in such a way that he can get them to do his bidding. (See history)
Appearance:
The Dark Lord is a corporeal spirit with no defined shape or form. He can often be seen as nothing more then a silvery vapor that seems to cling and hover. In the darkness of a forest, cave or other dark place, he may be mistaken for nothing more then a creepy mist or fog. When enraged or angered the fog can take on a eerie green hue that looks anything but friendly. When he wishes to be seen as something other then misty he takes on the resemblance of the young man he once was.
Medium length hair, that is slightly curled and that has a certain elegance to it and eyes that can appear to be as friendly or as dangerous as he wishes. Standing at about 6 foot tall Voldemort cuts a imposing figure, in delicate silver wisps of what looks to be old Hogwarts robes. His voice is soft yet commanding. Lacking warmth and feeling, unless he is playing the part of someone nice, to suck you into his plans, and/or traps.
Personality:
Lord Voldemort, or as his followers like to call him, The Dark Lord has shown that he is completely and utterly incapable of any type of love, affection or even mutual respect. Caring only for power and immortality, Riddle considers no one to be his equal, with the exception of Albus Dumbledore, “The Only wizard Voldemort ever feared.” Voldemort is extremely arrogant, feeling as if none can stop him and that none would dare for fear of what he would do to them and their families.
He feels that he is all powerful and unstoppable. The Dark Lord is a cunning, evil mastermind, who is utterly devoid of humanity, compassion and mercy. He is cold selfish and unfeeling towards anyone and everyone. He only cares for himself and for the power that he can, will and does have. He also wants you to look at him when he’s killing you.
Voldemort has a weakness for Hogwarts and it’s four founders. This is because it is the only place that he has ever considered a sort of real home. He has no regrets when it comes to stealing and he has done so all throughout his life. Including several items of important, items that are in someway tied to those same founders. He takes meaning in things of related value to himself and his family (Salazar Slytherin) Though he holds no value on his families lives.
He finds the fact that muggle-borns are studying magic at Hogwarts revolting and distasteful. He enjoys killing all manner of people… whole families, his own family, Muggles, Blood Traitors, Girls in bathrooms, Anyone that annoys or angers him, it matters not to him who they are. He also enjoys torturing and controlling his victims. He wants followers that have no reservations about doing the same. He wants unswerving loyalty and obedience.
Friends/Family: · Family members: Tom Riddle Sr. and Merope Gaunt · Friends: None · Enemies: 99% Of The Wizarding World
Pets/Familiar: · Name: Nagini (Deceased) · Species: Giant Snake · Magical Properties: Horcrux · Appearance: This snake was bigger then a man and more then capable of devouring one whole. · History: Dead at the hands of Neville Longbottom.
Character history:
Tom Marvolo Riddle was born on New Year’s Eve, Dec 31 1926 to Tom Riddle Sr. and Merope Gaunt. Who was one of the last of the direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin, one of the founders of Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the creator of the mythical Chamber Of Secrets. His father was a wealthy muggle of noble birth from the village of Little Hangleton.
Merope used a love potion on Tom Sr. and persuaded him to marry her. After time she stopped giving him the potion in the hopes that he would love her without it’s aid. Unfortunately she was mistaken and Tom Riddle Sr. Abandoned her and his unborn son.
One the eve of New Years, Tom Riddle’s mother wandered into a London orphanage when she felt that it was time for her to deliver the child. After his birth, Merope asked the matron to name her son Tom, after his father, and Marvolo, after his maternal grandfather, Marvolo Gaunt. She then died within the hour leaving Tom all alone.
Tom was left at the orphanage and raised there for his entire childhood. From a early age, Tom had shown great magical abilities, mostly involving psychokinesis and extraordinary insensitivity. While at school Tom was very gifted and showed a great thirst for knowledge and learning. Though he was know in the orphanage as a bully who tortured and stole from the other children largely just for the fun of it.
When Tom turned eleven, he did not receive an owl as most other students had. Instead Albus Dumbledore came personally to the orphanage, and invited him to study at Hogwarts. By this time he had already showed great potential as a wizard, as he could move things with his thoughts, talk to snakes, make animals do as he commanded, cause people pain and make bad things happen to people who annoyed him. He showed himself to be cruel, have a lack of moral judgment, and having a total disregard for others and a need for absolute and total control.
In his first meeting with Dumbledore, Riddle was seen to be a sharply intelligent and calculating boy with a cold, smoothly expressionless face intended to prevent others guessing what he was thinking. He was sure that he was born to be different, and detested his name "Tom," which he deemed to be too common. He also demonstrated a hunger for power when Dumbledore proved that magic was real to him, by setting his wardrobe on fire and then extinguishing the flames, without any harm done.
His magic wand was made of yew, a wood associated with death and rebirth, which has innate destructive workings and is well suited for use in transfiguration. It is 13½ inches long and has the feather of a phoenix at its core. The wand's maker, Mr Ollivander, got this feather from Dumbledore's pet phoenix, Fawkes. Fawkes gave just one other feather to be used in a wand, and ironically this wand "chose" to belong to Harry Potter.
Riddle attended Hogwarts from 1938 to 1945 and was sorted into Slytherin house. He was a gifted student, and became a staff favourite. He was made a Prefect and eventually the Head Boy. He was described by Albus Dumbledore as "the most marvelous student ever to pass through Hogwarts". However, Dumbledore never forgot the enjoyment in cruelty that Riddle had confessed to him on their first meeting, and never fully trusted him.
During holidays he was obliged to return to the orphanage, which he hated. He quickly gathered a group of followers, particularly fellow Slytherin students, whom he referred to as "friends", but for whom he is said to have felt little or no compassion. Many of these people, and later on, their sons, were to become what he termed Death Eaters; he is shown to have at least a two generation influence over the Avery and Lestrange families.
Riddle and his friends started their trouble-making while at Hogwarts; Dumbledore states that during the time they were at school, a series of incidents occurred to which the answers were never satisfactorily linked. It was around this time that Riddle began using the name "Lord Voldemort" among his followers; "I am Lord Voldemort" is an anagram of his full name, Tom Marvolo Riddle.
In the summer of Tom Riddle's 16th year, Riddle returned to Little Hangleton, hoping to meet his maternal grandfather, Marvolo Gaunt, and confirm that he was a descendant of the Gaunts, and, through them, Slytherin. Instead, he met his uncle Morfin, learning of his grandfather's death and his father's non-magical nature.
He stole an heirloom ring from Morfin, and, upon learning that his father was still alive and had abandoned his mother, murdered him as well as his father's Muggle parents. He framed Morfin for the murders by modifying his memory so that Morfin believed he was the murderer. Morfin confessed this to the Ministry of Magic, and was eventually found responsible by trial.
Frank Bryce, the Riddles' gardener, fell under suspicion from the muggle police, as the door to the Riddle House had not been forced and Bryce was the only person with keys to the house. The cause of death could not be determined, however, due to the fact that the Killing Curse leaves the victim lifeless with no signs of any struggle, wound, or medical problem, and Bryce was released.
Though he was regarded with suspicion by the other villagers until his death in 1994 at the hand of Voldemort. In this way, two men were blamed for the Riddle murders and Riddle kept the Gaunt's ring and returned to Hogwarts for his fifth year.
During Riddle's fifth year at Hogwarts, in 1942–1943, he opened the Chamber of Secrets, created by his ancestor Salazar Slytherin, which led to the death of a muggle-born student named Myrtle. Only Dumbledore ever suspected him, as Riddle had exercised his considerable charm over most of the other staff, including Potions Master Horace Slughorn. Instead, he used Rubeus Hagrid's possession of an acromantula to frame him for the crime, and got the boy expelled.
In his fifth to seventh years at Hogwarts he became even more obsessed with immortality. Some time in either his fifth year, or the first term of his sixth year, following one of Professor Slughorn's "Slug Club" meetings, parties to which Slughorn only invited popular and talented students, Riddle questioned Slughorn about Horcruxes. Riddle successfully fooled the professor into thinking that it was only for school work or for "further knowledge", and Slughorn explained why and how Horcruxes were created.
After completing his education, Riddle sought to become a teacher at Hogwarts; however, Dumbledore was averse to it, as he speculated that Riddle had ulterior motives in seeking the job. The Headmaster Armando Dippet had also turned Riddle down, but only because he had felt that the young man was not old enough.
Riddle therefore took a job at Borgin and Burkes, purveyors of dark magical objects. In the course of his work there, he came into contact with two relics of the Hogwarts founders. Salazar Slytherin's locket had once been an heirloom of the Gaunt family, but had been bought by Burke for a tiny sum of ten galleons when Merope Gaunt had been homeless and starving. It was sold to Hepzibah Smith.
One day, when Riddle visited Hepzibah to make a request from Mr. Burke regarding a piece of goblin-made armor, Hepzibah showed Voldemort the locket, as well as her own family heirloom, a cup bearing the Hufflepuff badger which had once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, of whom Hepzibah was a distant descendant. Riddle, it is presumed, murdered Hepzibah two days later, after stealing the two artifacts.
Again, he implanted a false memory so that someone else would admit her responsibility, this time Hepzibah’s house-elf, Hokey. Dumbledore later theorised that Riddle intended to use the relics to create Horcruxes, containers for portions of his soul which might protect him from death. Having stolen the artifacts, he left wizarding Britain, and was not heard of again for ten years – by which time, the identity of Tom Marvolo Riddle was no more, and he had rechristened himself Lord Voldemort.
Role play Sample:
The darkness that surrounded his walking form shrouded him in it’s embrace in an enigmatic feeling of mystery and dread. Soft dark robes covered him from head to toe, his cloak hood hiding a face that was alien and non human in appearance. This was the price he had paid for greatness. This was the price that he had paid to become the most powerful, and fearsome wizard in the world.
People were starting to fear the very mention of his name, and by this he was pleased. But it was not enough. He wanted the world at his feet, he wanted them to quake in fear and terror, at the mention of him. Referred to in only hushed whispers. A cold wind blew his cloak back in a whirlwind of rippling descending and impenetrable inky black darkness.
A cold smile flittered across his face as he noticed that the gate had been disturbed. 'That would be my most trusted lieutenant.' He thought with satisfaction, at the idea of one so loyal. 'My most trusted and most worthy.' He mused as he raised a hand and the gates parted before him as if they were paying homage to their rightful ruler and master.
Upon his arrival he was not disappointed to see that the grave also had been disturbed. The normal casual eye would never have noticed the differences especially in the darkness that enveloped him, but he was not normal by any standard. Yet again, he reached out and raised his hand watching with cold satisfaction as it to parted before him and made way for him to enter. As he stepped into the darkness the way closed behind him with little more then a slight grounding sound.
Into the darkness he descended, not needing light, to show him the way. He was as one with the darkness and shadows, and he would never show his followers such weakness as in needing light to see by. He moved more swiftly now. His eyes spying what he had been searching for in this place of darkness and decay, that penetrated the air in relentless force.
A warm golden flickering glow had shown itself to him. Reaching the open door frame the man paused briefly to behold the slim young woman who was seated to the left of his chair. “Bellatrix,” he whispered in honeyed tones. She was by far his favorite of followers. Though he would never speak these thoughts.
He stepped lightly into the room and circled around the chairs so that he would pass directly behind Bellatrix, before having a seat in his own velvet cushioned chair. His hands rested on the coiled serpents that graced its arms with a look of cold satisfaction upon his face.
His eyes glancing at the empty chairs that were still vacant. 'Patience, he had some of that mystical power of control tonight. Patience, that elusive way of being that had helped him on his way to greatness.' He thought.
The darkness of the room suited The Dark Lord well. His blood filled eyes flickered casually along its stony cold and damp walls. Moss was growing upon it’s surface in green sheets of a vegetational like growth. There was the sounds of dripping from somewhere that he found to be annoying at this particular moment. He was becoming slightly impatient, the sound was grating and it displeased him. Bellatrix continued to sit at his left hand. It was a place of immense important and prestige. There where three Death Eaters that stood above the rest. Bellatrix Black, Lucius Malfoy and one Severus Snape, although The Dark Lord Voldemort was not as pleased with him as the others of late.
He seemed to be showing a certain lacking in dedication and devotion, a trait that the other two seemed to hold on to with a higher standard of loyalty and dedication. If things persisted as they currently were with the young Slytherin then some pruning may become necessary. Sounds of footsteps echoed through out the room as movement sounded from the door that he Lord Voldemort had used just a few moments earlier.
‘That would be Lucius and the new recruit no doubt.’ He thought with his ever cold and deadly stare that took in the opened entryway. He could almost hear the beating of their hearts as they walked towards him and entered the room. But of course that wasn’t him that was doing the hearing it was the silent and deadly serpent that they had unwittingly passed within the darkness of the passageway. She was there listening, waiting, and guarding so that none would reach her master without his knowledge of their arrival.
They entered the two of them and he watched as Lucius showed him the proper respect. But there was something amiss in Lucius’s mannerisms. Something small and out of place. The Dark Lord’s cold gaze never left them. “Very good, I am well pleased.” He said with a cold voice that betrayed no emotion what so ever. His eyes turned to Bellatrix and his cold voice took on a colder hint of amusement, as she reached for her wand. “Do you have something to add Bellatrix?” He asked.
He was most curious to see what kind of game Bellatrix would play with these two young men. Her cruelty knew no bounds of this he was sure, as was he sure of her loyalty and devotion. He kept his face in a mask of perpetual coldness as she Bellatrix, stalked around Silas Harrow as if she were a cat getting ready to pounce upon her rightful pray. She was going to play with him, he realized with a spark of chilling delight as she started to speak.
It was a weakness that had to be stripped away from the both of them. Their emotions for each other ran a little two high. But He Who Must Not Be Named was pleased by the way that Bellatrix his most loyal and trusted lieutenant was taking care of the situation. ‘CRUCIO!’ The word echoed through out the chamber and rang in his ears, it was almost intoxicating how the warmth from that one simple incantation seemed to fill him up and make his want to revel and rejoice in its power.
He took note of the joy that seemed to make Bellatrix seem complete and to make her into one of immense, hypnotic and terrible beauty. Beauty that was mesmerizing to behold. Once again the spell echoed through out the chamber and The Dark Lord was pleased. His attention focused on Silas, so far he was pleased that he had not uttered any such pleads for her to stop.
But for the moment The Dark Lord would let Bella have her fun, and feel the glory and revel in the power that she commanded with such ease as if she were born to it, and being that she was a pure-blood she was. The power was rightfully her’s. This was good, this was how it should be. Lucius could learn a thing or two from this young woman. Both Lucius and Silas could for that matter.
He watched Lucius briefly in the throes of the spell. His attention switching from each of them in turn. A trace of a cold rare smile on his inhuman looking lips.
Random stuff: Voldemort is a ghost at this time.
|
|
|
Post by Ire Wright on Aug 17, 2008 14:31:18 GMT -5
|
|