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Messages - Benjamin Maynard

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Elsewhere Accepted / (refinding) Nemo - elsewhere adult
« on: 20/09/2016 at 17:41 »

E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name(s):
BIRTHNAME: Hunter Francisco Saint Alabaster III
KNOWN IN THE CRIMINAL CIRCUIT AS: Nemo Georgson
PREVOUSLY ENLISTED IN MERLIN'S ORDER OF DEFENSE AS: Sherlock Nemo Georgson
CURRENTLY OFFICIALLY KNOWN AS: Benjamin "Nemo" Maynard

A little extra note on his names, Nemo will tell anyone not criminally involved to call him Benjamin Maynard. People who have known him previous to this name change and people who are criminally involved, will call him Nemo. He himself listens best to the name Nemo, as he has not grown too used to his new official name yet. In the posts I write (— and therewith I mean describing the actions and thoughts of my character), I will refer to his character as Nemo. To prevent confusion around the boards and to signify a new start for this character, I will send in a helpdesk ticket with the request to change his forum name from Nemo Georgson to Benjamin Maynard.

Gender: Male.
Age: 36 (29th April 1912).
Blood Status: Halfblood (actually Pureblooded).

Education: 
Hogwarts School, Hufflepuff Dropout (just before his graduation) of ‘30.

Residence:
Goodman Street 21C, Whitechapel, London, UK.

Occupation:
Bad Boy (a.k.a. Criminal; Fraud; Pickpocket; Burglar; Thief).

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?
Only to have a criminal record at the Ministry of Magic. For the rest; no.

Requested Magic Levels:
Those are already set.
  • Charms: 11.
  • Divination: 6.
  • Transfiguration: 12.
  • Summoning: 7.
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
No.

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Loxias Almighty and Co.

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
ACT I. HUNTER FRANCISCO SAINT ALABASTER III
The French Patricia Vanhelm had cherished the wish, ever since her marriage to Elijah Andrew Saint Alabaster II, to give birth to a heir who would prove himself to be worthy of both Family names. Their firstborn son Hunter Francisco Saint Alabaster III seemed promising and all they could wish for in a heir. Yet, as Hunter hailed from a Family whose ancestry hinted at sanctity, he himself proved to be the antonym that validated their heritage. Everything would forever exist in one’s contradictions, and saints would only ever have the right to exist as long as they were sided by sinners.

Yet, no one expected a thing to be amoral about the young Saint Alabaster heir as he always played the part of his parents’ perfect heir with such panache that he fooled everyone who watched him play. He was everything that people wanted him to be, only to fall back into routine of not nearly approximating all that he should have been when he was off stage. And it was in the backstage that the young Hunter Francisco Saint Alabaster III found himself declining into the same abyss Lucifer had fallen down in. All devils had once been angels.

Yet, the part he played was merely a coverup for what he himself was too painstakingly aware of: how much he was unworthy of hailing from the union of two respected pureblood Families, how much he failed to live up to the epitome of what a pureblood heir was supposed to look like. Ever since he was a young boy, Hunter always felt out of place, someone who did not belong.

And he experienced it at the England Seat of the Saint Alabaster Family where his Father and Mother raised him together with his two younger brothers, Nathaniel Angelus Saint Alabaster IV (two years younger than himself) and Jeremy Sarathiel Saint Alabaster II (eleven years younger). As he watched his younger brothers grow up to become the mirror image of their parents, he watched himself become the exact opposite.

Where his brothers had internalized the virtues of respect and humility and acted on them, where they did not complain about having but few luxuries that they could call their own, where they did not whine about having littler wealth and fortune than many other pureblood Families, Hunter was insatiable. He always desired to have more, had a taste for all things decadently expensive and was always attracted to all things that implied riches. Where his younger brothers and his Family alike did not seek to multiply their wealth, nor desired more than what was rightfully theirs, Nemo strived to attain more of everything.

Greed was one of the sins that was inherent to the character structure of the Saint Alabaster heir. That, and a shameless urge to not ask for more, but simply take more of whatever he desired. And it was within the moments that his kin did not have their eyes on him, that he started to steal the silverware of the Saint Alabasters and blamed the house elves for it when asked about it. It was within the unwatched momentums at pureblood conventions at another pureblood Family’s mansion that he would simply take a trinket from one of their side tables and claim it as his own.

But it was not only for his different values that set him apart from the rest of his Family. What too rubbed the notion in that he did not belong to the Saint Alabaster Family was that he got sorted into Hufflepuff rather than the Family traditional Ravenclaw House. And although it probably was for the better since Hunter was no academic and lacked most theoretical insight and had always been better at finding things (— and keeping them afterwards), to the youngster it was only a validation of his feeling of misplacement. Not only did Hunter feel out of place, he too felt like a nobody in the company of saints. He felt like nothing much, unworthy of much except what his greed granted him. It was since he was younger that he had adopted the name Nemo to address himself with whilst others still called him Hunter.

If he was honest with himself (— or actually, if he allowed himself to be blinded by his own false projections and low self-esteem), he was certain that his Family was better of without him. His Father and Mother would be better off to have Nathaniel as their first heir, someone who proved himself to be an outstanding Ravenclaw and was the embodiment of all Family virtues and values.

On a fateful night, Hunter placed his own life in the wage and had committed suicide in the Family Vault by robbing the Saint Alabasters of all valuables they owned and use those as a foundation to start a new life for himself apart from his birth family.

His Father witnessed that night how he took everything that he wanted to have, everything with which he could start a new life, but the older man did not intervene nor did he put up a fight against his older son. Nemo afterwards never questioned why the man did not intervene, believing that his failing to call a halt to the greed of his older son was a lost cause. Besides that, he too thought of the entire act as something that paved the way to good riddance of a son who would never have been able to live up to the expectations that always seemed unachievable for the younger former Hunter Francisco Saint Alabaster III.

Unacknowledged as a descendant of the Saint Alabaster line ever since this betrayal, Hunter might as well be considered a skeleton in Nemo’s closet.

ACT II. NEMO GEORGSON
He does not only have to learn to live with the curse of having robbed his own kin and having made them even less wealthy and rich than other purebloods, he too has to live with his ignorance concerning how his actions broke Hunter’s Father. For he would never know that this was such a blow to his old man, to the Head of the Family who had always tried hardest to care for his Family rather than pursue a successful political career, and that this blow had damaged him beyond repair.

Egocentric as ever, he instead focused on the evolvement of Nemo and creating a place for this new persona in the world: as a lowlife criminal.

It did not take too long for the young man to have a criminal record at the Ministry of Magic, and he too was sure that it was the doing of his overambitious younger brother Nathaniel. And he guessed that his younger brother had made it his life’s mission to catch him and allow justice to have its way with him. It was pathetic, really, that his brother had made it such a priority to catch his older brother, almost blinding himself in the process for all other crimes and criminals. Myopically looking for the dead Hunter, the one who had disowned himself the night he had unrightfully taken the few luxurious the Saint Alabasters had had and squander their worth on booze and women, he failed to look for that brother’s doppelgänger.

For Nemo was certain that the Ministry of Magic indeed had a file with his name on it, but he too was sure that this file bore the name of Hunter. He was certain that his younger brother had not yet managed to find out the alias which Nemo now used, the alias that was mentioned in a whisper whenever someone informed after an affordable criminal, burglar, pickpocket, et cetera. Whatever sinful man they desired them to be, he could play the part if the money was right.

And money was what he needed most desperately.

He had never learned, although it was one of the many virtues on which all others Saint Alabasters had founded their downfall, the virtue of frugality. He spend money as easily as he earned it on all things his greed made him desire, and therefor needed to work on a couple of cases at the same time. Stealing whatever other peoples desired, keeping some of what they desired for himself and claim it had gone missing in the darkness of the night, taking everything that was not his.

Yet, the money earned from being employed by suspicious men and women hardly was his only drive. Nor was it his own greed to take whatever someone else desired or dearly loved. He too was in it for the thrill, the adrenaline boost that would burn its way through his veins as it fueled his system. It was the possibility of getting caught and then trying to find a way out of the heinous situation, it was the always present and so delicious ‘what if’.

His preparation for every job started with providing himself an alibi, bribing a woman with way a lipstick that was a couple of shades too bright and with an amazing rack to tell the Aurors he had been with her for the entirety of the night if he would ever be suspected of something criminal he indeed had done. To have the barman of pubs he frequented answer the Aurors that he had been drinking for the entire night until he had passed out on the bar.

If he had never managed to best his brother Nathaniel when he had been younger, he sure as hell had now managed to outsmart him. Where his brother Nathaniel was so focused on morals, he had lost track of all things amoral and therewith, the workings of his older brother’s mind.

And that man’s mind was a graveyard. Due to his brother's myopia, Nemo had all freedom and opportunity to thrive and enforce a respected reputation as criminal.

ACT III. SHERLOCK GEORGSON
Although he had been damn sure that his criminal records in the Ministry of Magic records room did not contain his alias, a man could never be careful enough.

If, in the most inopportune case, his overly ambitious younger brother had finally managed to pick up on his alias, he was sure that he would not be allowed to enlist for the Merlin’s Order of Defense (— rather, he would receive a one-way ticket to Azkaban) and thus the young man had deemed it more clever to come up with another nickname, another alias, another name that would not trace back to all the sinful acts he had committed as Hunter Francisco Saint Alabaster III or Nemo Georgson.

To enlist for Merlin’s Order of Defense had the advantage that whatever identity he would use to sign up with, would immediately be ensured if he managed to live through the war. War records would be witness of his  his courage, his gallantry and most specifically his good behavior. He would become known as a war hero, someone whose honor shouldn’t be doubted. A man who had served his country and his countrymen shouldn’t be disrespected by questioning his honor.

The new identity which he would use to sign up with had been provided by some shady figure, handed to him in yet another dark alley where he spent most of his waking hours. The papers had been crumpled slightly, making them seem used and slightly worn, yet the document itself looked unquestioningly authentic. And so did the name Sherlock Georgson.

Just another private looking for himself amidst the raging war. And it was for the sole purpose of establishing himself a honorable name in the eyes of the rest of society, Nemo would have deserted the army during one of the very first days after he had enlisted. He had a hard time following up the orders that were shouted at him and the rest of his peers, had trouble obeying the at times idiotic commands that unashamedly stated that the ones in command regarded them as nothing more but cannon fodder. The established order and the hierarchy that formed the spine of the army was something that reminded him of the pureblood regime he had voluntarily escaped from as Hunter.

He eventually served the entirety of the war as a signal engineer at the 33rd wizarding infantry division. His specialization as signal engineer feasted upon his experience as a thief, for he was already used to working intensely and under pressure in small cramped spaces.

ACT IV. BENJAMIN MAYNARD
As many men returned for the war as lesser version of themselves (— with a mind that had been torn apart due to all the horrors and terrors one had witnessed and had therefor started to play cruel mind games, with an incomplete body ridden with scar-tissue, and as a survivor who had not had the power and courage to save his dying companions), Nemo returned as a better version of himself.

And because he was better than before and had evolved, the name that had been established by having been enlisted in Merlin’s Order of Defense sounded useless to him — more a burden than a blessing. Georgson had been the name of a criminal who was rather bad at his own trade, it had been the name associated to having any cheap criminal act carried out. He wanted to be more than just that, a new start as a soon to be a praised thug.

Falsified papers to ensure his new identity were easily bought, and thus the man changed his official name once more into Benjamin Maynard. This is the name he is currently known as in any official records, but everyone who have known him previously, will probably still call him by his old name Nemo Georgson.

The war had been a wakeup call, for where he had been reckless before in his actions and criminal acts, he had witnessed how all hubris was punished by the death penalty. If the war had taught him to be anything, it had taught him to move without hearing his footsteps echo against the walls of a nightly mansion, it had taught him to move swiftly and purposefully (— to only get after what he had desired and to leave all other shiny trinkets for someone else to take).

And if you were to look for him now, he demands to be paid more than he was paid when he was younger and more inexperienced. Do to his increased success percentage, his services are more highly requested than before. Talk to that man reading in his battered dictionary in the corner of the drinking establishment like others would read a novel if you want something criminal done. Want the necklace of your cheating wife nicked in order to falsify evidence, Nemo is the man you need. Do you want false papers, Nemo knows exactly whom you should contact. Do you wish for someone to be robbed for the sheer fun of it, Nemo will be there for you. Need a partner in crime, this lone ranger will have to think about that first.

Roleplay: 
Option Two - Roleplay Response:
Winter had never been the season he had been most fond of. Quite the contrary, he quite resented how the cold would infiltrate his system and would stiffen his fingers with which he had to carry out his profession. His gloved hands dug deeply into the pockets of the dark overcoat he wore in a desperate attempt to keep them warm.

Looking over his shoulder as he turned yet another alley, making sure that he was not followed by someone whom he did not recognize (— or worse, that he was followed by his younger brother who had made it his life’s quest to take revenge on whatever phantom was left of Hunter), someone eager to catch him and link him to all the crimes he had executed in the past. Yet, the alleyway behind him was empty and free of any sounds save for the snow crushed under his black leather boots. It was a most convenient souvenir to have left from Merlin’s Order of Defense now that winter once more terrorized the streets and alleys.

Rolling his shoulders as his fingers of his right hand searched for his wand in his pocket, curling themselves around the wooden heft to prepare himself for pulling it out and carry out the job he had been hired to do today by a woman covered from head to toe in jewelry (— guess who his next victim of personal choice was going to be).

He had been patrolling the area a lot recently, having found the shortest escape route and having found out the routine of many inhabitants of the specific neighborhood. Human beings were beings of habit, and Nemo had always been interested in how they rarely changed their ways. They were more predictable than they themselves would want to let on, and it was something that Nemo could profit from.

Looking upwards slightly, his hat now covered with a thin layer of fresh snow, he watched how the lights behind the windows were either switched on or switched off as if the street was nothing more but the regular night club.

“Coming through! Coming through!”

The sudden voice that broke through the silence was unexpected however, and Nemo jumped slightly at the sudden harshness of the masculine voice. Able to tell the person who had called out simply because he was the only one who looked justified for such a claims, Nemo did not want to cross paths with this man and started to step aside, from what he assumed to be out of the way of the man.

”Coming through! Coming th--- arrrgh!”

Yet, although having served in Merlin’s Order of Defense, Nemo could hardly be considered to be someone who had some strategical insight, he found himself instantly covered by the contents of the box the man had been hovering in front of him just moments before.

(— Shimmery and shiny tinsel and decorations. If he hadn’t known that this was worthless, he would have instantly run off with the pretty shiny things.)

And it was for the better that he was not on his way back from his job, or he was sure that he would have dropped some of the trinkets he had been hired to steal. Using this as an excuse to give his hands to do something and therewith hope that the movement would warm his digits slightly again, he started to take the decorations off of himself, completely disregarding the apologies of the man in front of him.

“Couldn’t ya have picked someone else to inconvenience?”

There was a planning he had to stick to, and if this would take longer than expected, he would have to postpone this job till next week and he hated to be delayed as it hardly could be considered good advertisement for his services.

OTHER
How did you find us? Google — I was looking for creative ways to improve my English.

Post-Scriptum. Nemo was initially enrolled in RL-year 2013 as a part of the Saint Alabaster Family. The players who then played his relatives have now vanished from the boards, but I would still like to link you to the biographies of Nemo’s blood-related Family members — if only for extra reference material. His Father Elijah Andrew Saint Alabaster II, his younger brother Nathaniel Angelus Saint Alabaster IV, his youngest brother Jeremy Sarathiel Saint Alabaster II.

2
Merlin's Order of Defense

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Names:
Let's get very complicated here.
Birthname: Hunter Francisco Saint Alabaster III
Goes by: Nemo Georgson (full name possibly known to the Ministry as a criminal, thanks to the lovely brother Nathaniel Saint Alabaster)
Enlists, therefore, as -with very convincing false papers: Sherlock "Nemo" Georgson

Age: 27. (29th April 1912)
Gender: Male.

Education: 
Hogwarts School, Hufflepuff Dropout (just before his graduation) of ‘30.

Residence:
Goodman Street 21C, Whitechapel, London, UK.
Although he tends to move a lot.


Division:
The 33rd Wizarding Infantry Division/54TH brigade - Other divisions ask too much of him, they require too much magical skill, skill that this man does not possess. He has little ambition to get magically better and therefore work his way up the social ladder. He belongs at the bottom in the shadows and he is quite happy there. Other than that, Nemo is reckless and careless and has nothing to loose. He does whatever is needed and asked from him, without giving it a second thought. He does not know the feeling of guilt.

Rank:
Private.

Specialty:
Signal Engineer - Nemo is not the man who is the most clever of all, but once he has figured out how something works, he is determined to be the best at it. The adrenaline junkie that he is wants to face the risks because he works the best under pressure -especially when he is hungry. With a history of a criminal, Nemo is one who can work intensely, and for a long period of time in cramped spaces.

He knows how to not stand out. His past shows that he is good at making sure that he won't get caught by the opponents. The man is also used to work with false names (as you may have noticed) and can lie with a scary ease. The papers that he has handed in when he enlisted state that he does not have bonds or ties to anything or anyone. He is alone in the world as far as he and the army may concern.

Nemo is stupid, but not when it comes down to transfiguration and Muggle Studies. Not that he was particularily fond of the class in school, but robbing Muggles tells you enough about their daily life, doesn't it?


Requested Magical Levels:
  • Charms: 9.
  • Divination: 5.
  • Transfiguration: 10.
  • Summoning: 7.

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Ignis Fides Rivers, Salazar Ricarus, Arcus Ricardus, Loxias Ricardus Jr., Cladis Perses Gallion.

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
Hunter
People died twice. Once when the heart stopped beating and the blood was drained from the dead man’s face to collect itself at the back of his head. This was a shallow death because you still lived on in the words and memories of others. As long as your name would be called, you would still be there somehow. When people stopped calling your name and dropped you into the dark pits of oblivion, then you were indefinitely dead.

Hunter Francisco St Alabaster III was one of the people that was somewhat indefinitely dead.

Hunter had put his own life in the wage and had then committed suicide in the Family Vault, of all places.

It was not like anyone would care that Hunter was dead, had been his cold reasoning. It was not like someone would even raise a brow at the unfortunate demise of one of the sons of the St Alabaster Family. No one had ever been interested in the boy that followed the commands of his Father Elijah St Alabaster like a lost and helpless puppy dog.

He had just been there, following the commands as he was raised with humility and respect. He had soaked it all up and had executed the role well enough to make people believe him, but failed plenty of times behind the scenes when he simply could not remember on what side of the plate the fork was supposed to be and where on earth those little wooden stakes were for. He had been believable when he had needed to be, and had dropped the act as soon as he had been alone. When he could admit himself to be nobody.

(Because of his shortcomings as the heir that his Father would have wished for, he thought himself unworthy. Forgotten. Shut off. Unloved. Blind to all the affection and kindness he received from his Family as he drowned in egoism.)

This son had been a bit of an outcast if you considered all the other St Alabasters. Hunter had been sorted into Hufflepuff while his Family cherished a long line of Ravenclaws. But it was probably for the better, for Hunter was not capable of anything the Ravenclaw house stood for. He did not possess the brain that would contain ideas and ideals on how to get the fortune back that his Family had lost and he certainly did not have any ferocious or ambitious plans for his future.

A nitwit was all that Hunter had been, his brothers being better at everything even when they were younger than him. They were better at school and they did a better job by keeping their friends close. They were the ones that his Father would proudly claim as his own.

Not Hunter.

Not the man that did not want to tell people his name. Not the man that was more at ease when he did not have to announce his name to perfect strangers. Not the man that was better off with nicknames, the man that surrounded himself with the inferior and lower ranks of the society. The scum that wandered the planes of the earth.

It was simple, the boy had been convinced to have just existed and no one had looked at him. He had been blind for it, pitied himself while he did not have a reason for it. The dark haired boy had been a waste of breath and he would not be missed. The world was better off without him and his sin that was the very same reason that he had planned on killing himself mentally. The sin of greed and the capability to contain it quickly and easily without any resistance or with people to notice until it was too late.

And that was the exact reason that Hunter had ‘killed’ himself by robbing his Family vault. His name had not been spoken ever since that he had walked out of the vault he had robbed, and had shouldered his way through the crowds like a shadow of that what he had been. He had not been called after that, uncatchable and unattainable like the wind.

And that what he was now, was just a shade. A nobody.

Just a little nobody. A little Nemo.

"Nemo"
He was sure that he had a file. You could not go robbing everything around without getting noticed eventually, especially not when you had an ambitious brother who worked as an auror at the Ministry. He knew that there was a file with his name on it, a file that screamed 'Hunter Francisco Saint Alabaster III'.

He wasn't sure if 'Nemo' was the name that they used to address him with.

But he couldn't be too careful.

And he was also kind of sure that he could not turn up all of a sudden to Merlin's Order of Defense with the criminal's name stained onto the false documents that he carried around with him. There was no way that they would allow him get in when they knew what he had done, and when they knew that he was not punished for it yet.

They would think that could not be trusted, and would eventually desert the army. Or go to the opponents and drink a beer with them. They would think that he would betray them, that he would turn against them.

Damn right they would.

He was a shadow, people didn't know him. And even fewer people knew that he called himself Nemo Georgson. He lived his nicknames, he was whatever people wanted him to be. But this would be his saving. Through the army, he could make sure that he would be something, any fake identity would be ensured.

His fingers took the papers that were handed to him by a shady figure in the back of an alley, and his green eyes skimmed over the name and the information that was written down on it. A wry smile painted itself onto his face as he paid and retreated his steps into the dark of the night.

The irony of his new name taunted him.

A detective, looking for himself.


Roleplay:

Option 2:

Some people feared the dark.

They feared the monsters that were in them, the way that you could not see much without the moon shining down and the stars simmering from behind the dark veils of the night and the fleeting thin clouds that flocked together. They were afraid of finding the gaunt face of Death in the night, that he would take them to the bitter place they had come from.

Bitter like the taste of ginger on your tongue.

With a toothpick, although the man had long forgotten what they were called again, he plucked the last remaining of the cookies from between his teeth and slid his tongue past his teeth. Swallowing, he hated the taste the ginger provided him so gingerly. He really should have remembered that he hated the blasted cookies.

Making a face, he set up his gear in the night. The night provided him the dark cloak that he needed to remain invisible, he needed it to disappear and to become one with the nothingness of his surroundings. Green eyes fluttered around for a second, looking for any movement. His fingers were strong and determined as he fiddled with the thing that had been trusted to him.

The message that had to be send was scribbled down on such a thin piece of paper that it was almost see through, and he plucked it out of the pocket of his shirt. His fingers twisted and turned the paper until he could see the words in the faint light of the moon.

The wind tugged at the dark locks of his hair, made some leaves whisper.

His head snapped up in the direction, wand drawn as he remained as still as was possible. Someone was there, or he was getting paranoid.

Nemo didn't know which one he preferred.

3
Elsewhere Accepted / Nemo Georgson
« on: 08/08/2013 at 12:58 »

E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Nemo Georgson
Officially born as Hunter Francisco St Alabaster III

Gender: Male.
Age: 27. (29th April 1912)

Education: 
Hogwarts School, Hufflepuff Dropout (just before his graduation) of ‘30.

Residence:
Goodman Street 21C, Whitechapel, London, UK.
Although he tends to move a lot.


Occupation:
Bad boy. Criminal; Fraud. Pickpocket. Burglar. 'Handyman'. 'Errand boy'. Thief.

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?
No.

Requested Magic Levels:
  • Charms: 9.
  • Transfiguration: 10.
  • Divination: 5.
  • Summoning: 7.
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
No.

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
You know me; Ignis Fides Rivers, Salazar Ricarus, Arcus Ricardus, Loxias Ricardus Jr., Cladis Perses Gallion

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
People died twice. Once when the heart stopped beating and the blood was drained from the dead man’s face to collect itself at the back of his head. This was a shallow death because you still lived on in the words and memories of others. As long as your name would be called, you would still be there somehow. When people stopped calling your name and dropped you into the dark pits of oblivion, then you were indefinitely dead.

Hunter Francisco St Alabaster III was one of the people that was somewhat indefinitely dead.

Hunter had put his own life in the wage and had then committed suicide in the Family Vault, of all places.

It was not like anyone would care that Hunter was dead, had been his cold reasoning. It was not like someone would even raise a brow at the unfortunate demise of one of the sons of the St Alabaster Family. No one had ever been interested in the boy that followed the commands of his Father Elijah St Alabaster like a lost and helpless puppy dog.

He had just been there, following the commands as he was raised with humility and respect. He had soaked it all up and had executed the role well enough to make people believe him, but failed plenty of times behind the scenes when he simply could not remember on what side of the plate the fork was supposed to be and where on earth those little wooden stakes were for. He had been believable when he had needed to be, and had dropped the act as soon as he had been alone. When he could admit himself to be nobody.

(Because of his shortcomings as the heir that his Father would have wished for, he thought himself unworthy. Forgotten. Shut off. Unloved. Blind to all the affection and kindness he received from his Family as he drowned in egoism.)

This son had been a bit of an outcast if you considered all the other St Alabasters. Hunter had been sorted into Hufflepuff while his Family cherished a long line of Ravenclaws. But it was probably for the better, for Hunter was not capable of anything the Ravenclaw house stood for. He did not possess the brain that would contain ideas and ideals on how to get the fortune back that his Family had lost and he certainly did not have any ferocious or ambitious plans for his future.

A nitwit was all that Hunter had been, his brothers being better at everything even when they were younger than him. They were better at school and they did a better job by keeping their friends close. They were the ones that his Father would proudly claim as his own.

Not Hunter.

Not the man that did not want to tell people his name. Not the man that was more at ease when he did not have to announce his name to perfect strangers. Not the man that was better off with nicknames, the man that surrounded himself with the inferior and lower ranks of the society. The scum that wandered the planes of the earth.

It was simple, the boy had been convinced to have just existed and no one had looked at him. He had been blind for it, pitied himself while he did not have a reason for it. The dark haired boy had been a waste of breath and he would not be missed. The world was better off without him and his sin that was the very same reason that he had planned on killing himself mentally. The sin of greed and the capability to contain it quickly and easily without any resistance or with people to notice until it was too late.

And that was the exact reason that Hunter had ‘killed’ himself by robbing his Family vault. His name had not been spoken ever since that he had walked out of the vault he had robbed, and had shouldered his way through the crowds like a shadow of that what he had been. He had not been called after that, uncatchable and unattainable like the wind.

And that what he was now, was just a shade. A nobody.

Just a little nobody. A little Nemo.


Roleplay:
Reply as your character to the following:

It was impossible for Dianne to stay out of trouble. It wasn't that she was looking for trouble, it's just that trouble always managed to find her. Today she wished she could find something equally familiar but more comforting.

The five-year old girl hugged her puffskein closer to her and brushed her face in its soft fur for comfort. She had named him herself and he was always her special pet. No she was certain she had never gone down this side street before. Her anxiety increased every second as darkness fell as she walked down the road. A loud noise came to her left and she buried her face in her pet's fur completely. The scared girl bolted the opposite way slamming the both of them into the wall of the nearest building. Tottering back a few steps she found a door a few feet to her right and ran to open it. What light there was inside spilled out into the darkness and she spilled into the room.

Once in, she was caught between the impulse to curl her cloak up more tightly around her and loosen her grip on it. She wasn't alone anymore but she was now among strangers instead, which was nearly as terrifying. Her puffskein had recovered from the shock of the wall and now was purring contentedly as the girl hugged it, causing a mildly calming effect on the girl. Gathering her courage, she marched up to the nearest person, pulled on the nearest clothing hem and blurted out in a loud voice:

"I'm lost and it's dark and I wanted to know where I am but I'm not scared but I am worried that Sambundeakin is scared because he's little and needs something to eat and wants to go home."

She paused to draw a breath in her nearly never-ending sentence, "He misses my and his mommy."

To explain the scared girl held up the custard-colored puffskein. Sambundeakin the puffskein, however simply purred as if nothing on earth was wrong in the world.

Roleplay Response:
Apocalypse had ten letters, but the strength of the word didn’t seem to fit just ten letters. It looked like it was about to burst, the whole word. With the riders galloping through the ‘o’ and ripping the word apart. It was so fragile to catch the vengeful riders in the innocence of human tongue.

And it was even more foolish to explain the term, the word, with other words. It was the irony of explaining one word with a waterfall of others, that Nemo enjoyed so much. His dictionary was therefore his most prized possession and the only thing that he ever took with him when he moved out of a place that he had only rented for a little while.

Dwelling was for some.

Straggling for the others.
 
Nemo was the one to straggle, he was the one to hover about town to find a place for the night. He did have his flat, of course, concealed within the inner workings of a building, but he rarely slept there out of fear that the smart Nathaniel would come knock at his door to arrest him after all those years.

The man had settled into a chair in the back of the room, a secluded place. The shadows reached him, and only his sprawled legs found the light. Lazy blue eyes looked as the scene in front of him unraveled itself, the way that all the other people seemed to find a soon way to hell while Hunter had simply ordered a glass of milk.

He needed to be alert and fast if he had to.

And he had discovered that reading his dictionary didn’t work with a muddled brain.

Bending himself over his dictionary again, he flipped the yellowish pages quickly as he looked for another highlighted word before he felt someone tugging at his arm. His heartbeat froze in his chest as he tilted his head to look at his invader. A small child with one of those living fur balls.

(What were they called again?)

”Yeah, ya know, only fools give their pets such names.” His gaze went from the humming ball of fur to the child that looked at him like she was about to cry. ”I don’t help fools.”

Still, he shoved his glass of milk in the direction of the child, untouched, and then nodded at someone who looked far more reliable than him. Nemo wasn’t here for helping the innocents.

Only all the others.


OTHER
How did you find us? And then once, sleeping beauty came at my doorstep and convinced me to join this site.

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