Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character name: Damien Pierre Altier

Previous and/or Current Character(s) if applicable: Rin Hunter et al.

Character age: 25.

Character education:
Various tutors up until the age of 10.
A private all-boys magical school in France (1933-1940).

Strength and weaknesses (details please):
Living the high life, Damien's become an expert in maintaining image. He knows what to say, and when, and does his best to stay in people's' good graces. He's perceptive and intelligent, though has an absence in the motivation to use his mind for anything good. It may be hidden awfully well, but Damien, to an extent, does care about others, even with his priorities somewhat mixed up. He isn't the most helpful of people, and is more irritable than before now he cannot invest all his time in his social endeavors as he'd much prefer to, but when given a job (and left with no other option), he'll complete it to the best of his ability, albeit grudgingly.

Physical description:
Damien stands only slightly above average height, but seems taller due to his posture. As a socialite, he takes great care in his appearance, meticulous in every detail from the way he styles his hair to whether or not the color of his clothing (which is almost always of a designer label) compliments that of his eyes. As a professor, his attire takes a more sensible and down-to-earth quality, albeit still stylish nonetheless. His hair often alternates between blonde and brown, a result of his indecisiveness, and his eyes are a deep blue. He also chooses to sport a pair of tortoiseshell glasses, which do nothing to aid his sight and are worn purely for aesthetics and to "make him look smarter".

Personality (nice, rude, funny etc. Paragraph please.):
Money makes the world go round is a phrase Damien is more than familiar with, raised in a wealthy household he's never had to work to get something he wants, and he wanted to keep it that way, much to his parents' disapproval. His interests only lie in pretty and expensive objects and people, or his grand life as a socialite. Though his eccentric behavior often seems to convey otherwise, Damien is far smarter than he lets on (the result of a prestigious and costly education), but the more academical matters never interested him as going off gallivanting did.

Despite that, there is a more serious side to Damien. If he believes the situation calls for it (which, admittedly, isn't often) he can put aside his indolence and actually act like a responsible adult like he should do. As a professor, he has naturally turned down his flamboyance a bit, and his personality seems to be more subdued, but his greater interest in other matters can be obvious to those who pay attention.

Hopes and dreams. Why are you teaching at Hogwarts?:
Getting a job had never been one of Damien's intentions; unfortunately for him, his parents thought otherwise. Forced to find work, or else have his steady flow of wealth cut off, he's found himself back at school, (mistakenly) assuming such a job would be an easy occupation. His hopes are that this new job doesn't clash too much with his socializing (as he has full intention to maintain his popularity as well as he can, while still prioritizing his job), yet a very small, more considerate, part of him hopes that he will be able to help the students learn, as irrelevant as he finds half the curriculum.

Biography (500 words minimum. There is never such a thing as too much.):
As the son of two esteemed pureblood families, it was only natural that Damien had learned that a good reputation was the first and utmost priority. His father was a strict enforcer of this rule, engraving it into his mind since he was a child; some might have called Remí too severe, but Damien never complained (how could he? He got everything he wanted, so what was a little reprimanding to him?). Confident from a young age, he had always been an outgoing person, as social as one could be when the other children you interacted with had to first meet the demanding criteria of your parents.

When Damien was nine years old, Taharial Evangeline was born. She was frail, sickly; he needed to look out for her. Her health hadn't sparked the most pleasant of emotions from his parents, Altiers were meant to be flawless— Taharial wasn't. Regardless, Damien made great efforts to protect his sister (perhaps unbeknownst to her, she had been too young, and the signs of his safeguarding had grown subtle as she grew older) in the couple of years they had together.

Eventually the time came, and Damien was taken away from the various tutors and his family at home and sent off to the private school, solely for the richest and purest of wizards. Here, friendships weren't something carefully crafted over time— they were bought, and this custom was perfect for Damien, who held more wealth than was probably good for him. His habit of excessive flaunting was known by all, funded by his parents who did nothing to try and bring their son back down to earth, seeing little problem in a bit of showing off. In short time he'd managed to buy his way to the top of the school hierarchy. His contact with his family had been at the bare minimum, a letter every term, sometimes more for the special occasion (if he remembered, and wasn't too weary from whatever party he had attended the night before).

He'd gotten distracted, his values morphed into those not too different to his father's.

Damien could transform from the life of the party to a miserable recluse in a matter of minutes, subject to infrequent mood swings at unpredictable times (with the Altiers' history of persistent intermarriages, for him to have been born without anything wrong with him would have been more surprising— but who was he to know that?). Lessons were missed repeatedly due to wild tendencies, or a sudden apathy towards life, but whatever the reason was, Damien was always saved by his family's power (an immoral way of getting by, but he had never been someone to care for such details). Exams eventually came, and amazingly he breezed through them, a high intelligence and natural aptitude towards many subjects meant that attending all his lessons as the examinations neared was all it took for him to pass with flying colors (but then, the skill of the professors there had also deserved thanks).

Upon the passing of his graduation, Damien returned to the Altier residence for a few years. His days passed as they did before, though with his education now over with, he had more time than before to relish in social activities. His reputation grew further, more connections were made, but there was only so much time before he would grow tired of France.

At the age of twenty-three, Damien moved to London, much to the dismay of his relatives who already resided there. He climbed the social ladder, and everything was fine— then the inevitable happened. His lavish habits meant it wasn't surprising, that and the fact that his parents had been dropping hints throughout the last couple of years.

He was given an ultimatum: find work, or have his allowance cut off (not completely, but enough to make sure his soirees were out of the question). Could he have still survived with a lesser amount of money in his pockets? Most likely. But then, Damien had always been too acquisitive for his own good.

SAMPLE ROLEPLAY
(Please respond to to this in third person past tense. Do not write the other characters' reactions. Only your own.)

It was the largest office in Hogwarts and, perhaps to students and newcomers, the most intimidating. The shelves were filled with various odds and ends, with a place of honor for the Sorting Hat, and the walls held all the portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses.

In the middle of the room sat a large desk. Everything was in order, for the current occupant had always despised a messy desk. It was the sign of a messy mind, and she had always favored neatness.

A clock sat on the desk, which currently showed the time to be 2:05. The meeting was supposed to begin at 2:00 precisely.

Along with order, Anneka valued punctuality. She was a very busy woman these days. Even during the summer, she had a number of matters to attend to. Interviewing and hiring staff was only of those matters. The newest potential member of her staff wasn't making a good impression.

She paced the room, black heels clicking against the stone floor. When the door finally opened, Anneka turned, her expression reminiscent of a Russian winter. "You are late."

Explain yourself was what her face said.

Roleplay Response:

It was only as he reached the door to Ivanova's office, that Damien began to suspect attending that party hadn't been a good plan. His mind was still hazy when it came to memories of the night before, but he distinctly remembered leaving earlier than most, specifically for his interview; met with mocking snickers and some shouts of disbelief at the frankly absurd statement that he, Damien Altier, had applied for a job as a professor (though in all honesty, he probably wouldn't have believed himself either). Unfortunately for him, he failed to notice that his idea of early, had in fact, been a few hours into the morning.

(But then even that hadn't been the main reason as he why he was late. Perhaps if he'd cut down on the lengthy duration of time taken to assemble his ensemble, he might have gotten here on time, early even).

Carefully brushing a strand of hair into its correct place, Damien gave himself (more specifically, his outfit) a once over and quickly fixed his composure before entering the office, his final thought before the interview being that those shoes definitely went with his jacket. He barely had time to catch a glimpse of his surroundings before a rather displeased voice greeted him.

"You are late."

Damien glanced at the clock. Hardly. What was five minutes anyway? As he often said, better to be fashionably late (because late simply on its own wouldn't do) than never. Nevertheless, he had the grace to look somewhat embarrassed as he ran a hand through his hair, "My sincerest apologies— I can assure you this poor timekeeping isn't a usual habit of mine." That second part of his sentence, he regretfully noted, had held little truth in it, if any; hopefully she wouldn't suspect him.