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Author Topic: Emeric Ricardus  (Read 383 times)

* Emeric Ricardus

    (12/10/2013 at 22:02)
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  • Slytherin '39
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E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

Character Name: Emeric Otho Ricardus
Gender: Male
Age: 18 5th July 1921



Occupation:**If you are planning to work at St. Mungo's, please fill out the St. Mungo's application here instead.
Slytherin ‘39

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the Ministry, Shrieking Shack) or to take over an existing shop in need of new management?

Requested Magic Levels: (see here on how to do this)
If you want levels above the usual 32 total, please fill out and submit the Special Request form here.
  • Charms: 9
  • Divination: 5
  • Transfiguration: 11
  • Summoning: 7
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
The Ricardi!

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Calla Locksley’s brood

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
If it were up to Emeric, Salazar would already be out of his way.

The cigarette was pulled slowly from between his lips, the toxic smoke mingling with his breath and creating a small cloud of fog in the air before him. Glacial blue eyes focused on it for a moment, watching as it expanded and grew more transparent before disappearing entirely.

Emeric knew he was cold; one had to be as a second son. At least one that didn’t want to be a second son needed to be cold. He couldn’t allow the fact that Salazar was his brother to get in the way of his ambitions.

He should be Loxias’ heir and that was all there was to it.

He liked to think so, anyway. Unfortunately Salazar was older. In Emeric’s mind, birth order should not dictate who led the family. As long as they were part of the main family, actions and the ambition to move the family up in Wizarding hierarchy should be more important.

Now he was graduated, Emeric could keep a better eye on Salazar and whatever he was up to. He knew his brother liked to think of himself as sneaky; Emeric considered himself a master. He had to be, if he wanted to make his brother fall from Loxias’ graces. Someday, maybe not for a long time, but some day Emeric knew that Salazar would do something unworthy of the family and Emeric would seize his opportunity.

Loxias had almost never been referred to as ‘father’ by Emeric. Colder, even, than Emeric; Loxias had sons but Emeric had always known that they weren’t some source of pride for Loxias. He had needed sons and he had gotten them. Probably quite a few more sons than he really needed, but back-ups were always useful.

He was reminiscing about all of this as he was leaning back against the building in which he lived, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Reminiscing was probably bit of an exaggeration. Emeric didn’t look back on memories fondly. He only saw them as resources, a way to store information that he could use later; preferably to his advantage.

The night was wasn’t cold, but it was cool enough that his breath caused a slight fog to form in the darkness. He liked the cold, for more than the fact that it suited his personality. The cold kept his mind clear; everything was crisp, clear and concise.

He enjoyed the sounds of the Muggle neighbourhood he lived in as well. Pointless, really, all their scurrying about trying to accomplish things they would never have enough time to. They were an ambitious lot and if anyone could appreciate that it was Emeric. The white noise they created in the dead of night; yelling at neighbours, shouts of exhalation coming from inside nearby pubs, the roaring down the street of their odd mode of transportation, it all suited his brain.

Emeric never stopped thinking; never stopped plotting. He couldn’t, if he wanted to be the one to come out on the top. In a way, the meaning of Emeric’s name fit him well. ‘Work and ruler’; one he was already good at and the other he was working on.

He could rule, all he needed was that one opportunity to prove to Loxias that Salazar was not worthy. An opportunity he was determined to find; or he’d create one himself.

Roleplay Response:
Option one-
The sneer on his face felt as though it were permanently etched in his skin. It had been stupid of him to venture out at this time. He hated crowds. Hated the way they thought whatever they were doing was more important than what he was doing. It wasn’t.

He was Emeric Ricardus. He and his business were far more important than their useless daily routines. Buying potions ingredients or robes or Quidditch supplies; how mundane. His ambitions were all that mattered.

Of course, none of these simple-minded people would-or could-know about his desire to one day rule his family. No one could know. Not until he was actually ready to make his move and there was no knowing how long that would take. Plotting and planning took a ridiculous amount of time. It would be worth it in the end.

The shouting of one of the mundane caught his attention for a moment and his lip curled even further upward. A woman shouting was not attractive. Emeric shook his head and continued forward, hands stuffed inside the pockets of his black leather jacket. Just a little further and then he’d be done and able to Apparate back home.

Before he could reach the path to the store he was headed for, something fell over in his path. With a sigh, he inwardly cursed his barn owl; Maximus. If the blasted thing would do his job without requiring so many treats beforehand Emeric would not be in this situation.

He looked down, one dark eyebrow rising at the sight that met his cold, blue eyes. “Well, well. Maybe someone shouldn’t be invading the privacy of others, should they?”

Emeric made no offer to help her up.

Shepard T. Kedding

    (13/10/2013 at 15:45)