Post by sebastian apollo abbott on Dec 15, 2008 1:36:38 GMT -5
Sebastian Apollo Abbott
||what do you see when you look at me [/font]
Name/Alias: tristan
Age: eighteen
RP Experience: 8 years or so
How Did You Found Us: an advert on my site, When Doves Cry
How Much Time Do You Plan To Spend Here Per Week: too much, per usual
Other Characters: lucius abraxas malfoy
||you say you know me [/font]
Character's Full Name: Sebastian Apollo Abbott
Nicknames: Seb only to those who are in admirable acquaintance with him, otherwise Sebastian will suffice.
Age: sixteen
Year: sixth
Canon or Original: canon
House: Ravenclaw
Birthday: May 23, 1955
Sexual Orientation: indifferent hetereosexual
Blood Status: pureblood
||still you've got no clue [/font]
Play By: Gaspard Ulliel
Appearance: In appearance, Sebastian is not exactly aesthetically pleasing upon first - or even second - glance. Though to say with all optimism, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Sebastian would not be considered ugly by any standard, and yet the mediocrity of his features are only insult to the injury that is his crippling personality. He is built of good form, standing somewhere in the 6’0 range depending on how much he was concerned with his posture (which is most usually very little). Sebastian, also, has a very admirable fluff of dark chocolate brown hair that comes in thick strands and extends over his brow and ears. Like most English-born, Sebastian was born with a fairly pale complexion, making every inconspicuous or otherwise arbitrary birthmark that much more prominent against his alabaster skin. The only feature about him that is particularly interesting or spectacular would have to be his pair of opulent, sea-blue eyes, which are uniquely dark and yet vivid simultaneously. Otherwise his face is rather average, if not entirely plain complete with thin, masculine lips and a tall, prominent nose undoubtedly inherited by his father. If one were to base their opinions on looks alone, Sebastian - in his perspective - would seem rather dim.
Over his lithe, if not narrow frame, his clothing choices are as dismal as his looks on their own. Most usually seen in layer upon layer of overly worn, and sometimes lumpy sweaters, it would be a rare occurrence to see him reveal flesh of any kind that was below his chin. Most usually uncaring about his appearance, waltzing about the school with slightly skewed hair and black stains on his fingers were not uncommon. Paint splatters and chalk smears, as well, were common accessories to his garments. He was always too far caught up with the workings and output of his own mind, on all exterior levels he was blithely indifferent. In fact, the only thing that kept him from walking around with outgrown hair, beard, and repulsively dirty fingernails was his finicky, hypersensitive skin, in which the workings of a stubble or accidental scratch with a jagged nail would leave him itchy and/or irritable until he invested in a shave or salve.
When he does show some initiative to look presentable to the outside realm known as the real world, Sebastian suits himself up well in his school uniform. Sure, his tie is most always lopsided, his shirt stained, and his shoes dull, but he does give at least half a rat’s ass for the sake of face and not drawing too much attention to himself. Sebastian is never seen without a book at the bridge of his large nose, or a runny quill in his left hand, scribbling down words or merely swiping designs across the top of his lecture notes. His poor posture, in which he hovers distinctly in the shape of a ‘C’, is mostly due to his obsessive, one-track mind. He focuses, perhaps too much, with only what he is doing, and henceforth has the appearance of a crazed loon - the stereotypical, if not utterly cliché, look of a vagrant at work. When he is not distracted by what he considers ‘work’ he is well more than completely into a book, as his mind is one that thirsts and craves something new, exciting, and inspiring in order to keep his from slowing down or growing dull.
||off all the things that I can do[/font]
Likes:
Dislike:
Strengths:
Weaknesses:
Boggart: killer whale
Patronus: seagull
Personality: Despite all stereotypes or assumptions made about aspiring writers and artists, Sebastian Abbott, by no means, is ’sensitive’. In fact, he’d be the very last person on Earth - save for maybe a Malfoy - to run to in the time of need. He has a very, very bleak outlook on reality and finds much more pleasure, solace, and interest with the workings of his own mind - and henceforth has little care with what is going on (or not going on) inside the craniums of others. While he does feel extreme emotions, he does not have the means to control them whatsoever, it would be foolish to think that he had any idea how to cope with others. Typically considered a ’Type A’, his high anxiety heightens to extreme levels whenever he cares or feels passionate about something, this likeness or affection most usually leads to highly addictive behavior. A prime example of this abrasive quality would be his apparent ’need’ for cigarettes and a quill with ink at all times - as he could feel the urge to curb his addictions on whimsy, and is likely to lose his short temper if not sated quickly.
His means of conversation are lackluster at best, usually consisting of one-worded answers in a deep, monotone tenor and irritated grimaces whenever he feels disrupted of his creative edge. Even though a vivid array of emotions, thoughts, and contemplations - enviable of any philosopher - cross his mind every millisecond of his life, it never crosses over into dialogue for a counterpart to hear. His sister, at times, has gotten a small peak at all the warped and vague happenings of his mind, but his acute strangeness remains untouched by society. In truth, he probably comes off more of a Neanderthal than an erudite student and artist, but once again, it should be stated that he had no cause or care for how he appears in the opinion of others. In that sense, he is rather self-absorbed, as he literally stays inside his head as much as possible - which is a critical flaw that even he, sometimes, thinks poorly on. Though not everything about his character could be perceived as a critical flaw; his strong focus, in fact, is what keeps his grades at a good medium and his ability to complete goals in tact. In small doses, it is even admirable to watch how perceptive and attentive he can remain for long spans of time; however, in that very same sense he can not be easily diverted by ‘flashes in a pan’ - so to speak.
His peculiarity only becomes more severe as more and more qualities leading to the qualities of a bi-polar patient become more evident. Unlike the common view on artists, Sebastian is highly aggressive, territorial even over what he feels is ‘his’. Sebastian can be solemnly silent one moment and flipping over tables the next, as it only takes the wrong string of words to spark a very dangerous demon that Sebastian usually holds up inside. He is also a critically protective person; if he deems you a friend or someone important to him, he will undoubtedly fire off on whatever the problem will be. His obsession to ‘do’ things - in the most general sense - is an epicenter for conflict, as his high anxiety and energy levels are always looking for a source to lash out upon. There is very little that is gentle or kind about him, much to his own chagrin. While he does seem very set with how he is, admittedly he is very tired of his own petulance and crossness. He is at the age of change, after all. Conflicting with oneself, however, has hardly ever led to happy results. But, there is a glimmer of something other than rudeness and frigidity in his core, sadly it most usually reflects in his work and on the page, rather than directly from his mouth.
||history may repeat itself [/font]
Father: Leonard Abbott
Mother: Catherine Lawerence
Siblings:
Other Family: --
History: Sebastian was brought up in a relatively normal, middle-class pureblood family. Despite the lineage, his family did not particularly reap the benefits of having a pure bloodline like many distant relatives and others most usually sorted in the Slytherin house. This fit rather well with the family dynamic, as Seb’s parents showed very little appreciation for the radical ways with the Dark Lord and up and coming Death Eaters, they were much more involved in their own family. Hence why Sebastian grew up in a positive, involved household. Even though he was a middle child, he did not feel particularly left out or ignored. Even still, Sebastian was most certainly the most independent child, and never required the attention of his parents whenever he wanted or needed something. Even as a small child he made his best attempts to reach the kitchen cabinets and grab food for himself and found immense pleasure in tucking himself in at night.
Being outdoors was one of his favorite activities as a child. No blade of grass on his lawn went unobserved through Sebastian’s eyes. He was drawn to the colors, the freshness, and fragility from a young age, and never really did outgrown his fascinations. Along with a love of nature, he also had a surprising love of buildings as well. Anything that involved using his hands interested Seb, hence why drawing and woodwork became some of his favorite hobbies. It was while he was spattering paint on some parchment that his parents realized that Seb actually had some talent - unbridled of course, seeing as he couldn’t be more than four, but nevertheless there was potential to be had in the middle child of the Abbott family.
Growing older, it was time to head off to Hogwarts, which was drab at best. He was assigned to the Ravenclaw house, which was no surprise to anyone in his family, and immediately took the role of the boy behind the scenes, never out in the open. From then on he spent most of his time sketching, taking good notes, and examining the greenery of the lawns. He did not make too many friends, true, but the ones he did have he has kept loyally. He did admirably in all his classes - his conceptual intelligence shining through - and found little to no interest in quidditch, despite the opportunities to be outside all year round. For many of his years at Hogwarts he was the cliché Ravenclaw, who was even more recluse than the normal bookworm.
Over the summer before his sixth year, Sebastian developed an interest in photography, one that he has brought with him to Hogwarts. Most usually seen with a camera around his neck or in his satchel, taking pictures of everyday activities at Hogwarts, including quidditch matches, class, and even his own friends was a constant venture. Drawing, as well, has taken up a lot of his time, small doodling can often be seen on the corners of his notes or on arbitrary scraps of paper left in the Ravenclaw common room. Other than artistic ventures, his biggest hobby of late is playing ‘protective brother’ with his little sister, who just became a fifth year.
||at least I've got skills[/font]
RP Sample:[/I]]
Move your hands in circles, keeping me hypnotized
The power behind your eyes
Move around your bedroom, cursing the naked sky
You should be here tonight
Maybe it was not wise that this little wager started after he had already gotten the first smidgen of a taste. It was comparable to Adam absorbing the alluring scent of the apple in Eden - after such temptations from the succulent fruit and Eve herself, how could he have possibly denied himself then? Though logic and propriety, once again, came to save the day. To lose a bet within ten minutes of making it would be utterly and horridly ridiculous - and then what? He becomes a record holding chump for being the easiest to be seduced by Narcissa Black? He could very well not have that. Firmly and justly, he told himself, that tonight was most certainly a no, and continued to mentally chastise himself whenever he thought or wanted differently. If only it didn’t ‘count’ in their little game, that could be a lovely loop hole he could work to his advantage, but otherwise no, he will not divulge in the utter weakness of his sex. She could tickle and touch all she wanted, he would not budge - or, if it comes down to the bitter worst - he’ll find a way to escape and notch this night down as a blundering success, lucky to make it out alive.[/size][/color][/quote][/size][/blockquote] [/color]
Breathing was a major key in all this. Slow and steady. He wished to revert his heart beat back to it’s normal slowness, to have his hands feel cool rather than prickly with pins and needles. There was no need for a release if there was no build-up, after all; he could surely be the same gent that strolled on down here not thirty minutes ago, couldn’t he? His heart continued to palpitate against the incarceration that was his sternum, though it was much more gentle now, rather than seemingly bouncing about his chest like a rubber ball. Slow and steady; in and out. In such concentration, Lucius even left a small opening between his lips open, attentively paying heed to the rush of cold his lips felt when he sucked in and the subtle warmth felt when exhaling. See? Simple. He considered himself cured.
That saying just before she unsurprisingly found away to unknowingly deter him from responsible ritual. As her finger fell against his subtly pursed lips, Lucius brazenly cocked a brow, resisting the urge to tempt any other muscles in his face upwards in smarmy glee (causing faint ripples to contort the left side of his mouth - and that alone being his silently unconcerned response). It was rather humorous in itself how Lucius could so seamlessly dabble in conflicting and contradictory actions and emotions within the same span of time, but Narcissa was now to the point of conjuring a bi-polar creature without so much as lifting her finger - bringing even more irony to the situation. It was quite endearingly funny, in the most painful ways possible. She must make men weep as a hobby; though it would be quite tumultuous if she actually knew this. Having already constantly watching his back and second-guess every action she took - questioning whether it was purely whimsical or a calculative tool for manipulation - a tough road lies ahead for the headstrong Malfoy.
Not that surrender would be all so bad. In fact, the fine seemed fair, perhaps even fun, considering what Narcissa perceived as ‘her bidding’. Taking her to some social even or another sounded quite fine in his mind, in fact, she would have probably been a top choice of his already. If he had been a bit more in tune to the prefect itinerary on the Hogwarts train rather than ensuring that every one else was just as distracted as he was, he would have made getting a date an early priority - to avoid the hubbub and teenage drama usually associated with the word ‘date’. In fact, the only unsettling consequences to be had was the dread of every non-committal, boyish brat - a leash. Save for Lucius, ‘monogamy’ was not just an inconvenience to an ever-developing libido - but one of the scariest words in his mental dictionary (right next to castration). It came with a whole, caged, pre-meditated package for him, after all.
And then there was the notion that he could win - and that was a rather splendid notion indeed. Considering that Malfoys were never people to be gracious or humble, he felt almost obligated to take full advantage of the situation; as getting his way and giving him control was a great gift in itself, tidbits his imagination thought up were a very lovely bonus. Lucius affirmed her concluding statement with a faint nod of understanding. The legalities, so to speak, were formalized - which left Lucius to brainstorm what exactly he could get as his prize; he had a good many ideas. Admittedly, they weren't exactly honed with all logistics in tact - vague imaginings at best - but the concepts alone were inspiring enough to make good attempt look at Narcissa with lead glasses and invest in a vat of chloroform for all numbing purposes. Would he indulge Narcissa with such schemes? Of course not. "Ah, but what is a good wager without it's twists?" Lucius answered rhetorically, probably inspiring more reason for an inquisition than actually keeping things settled. "You'll just have to see - when I win." He announced not a breath later, though organically diverted the subject when a very important tidbit (one that had completely slipped his mind) came to him. "So how long will I have to resist your charms? Perhaps it would be more methodical if we had a date." If Lucius was really going to pull through this, he's going to need some endurance - a kind you can't get from the quidditch field.
