17 APRIL 16, 2003 Student Hogwarts / Slytherin / 7th Half Veela Belfast, Ireland
| PERSONALITY: Ethan Prince can be best described as a bundle of twisted steel and ice.
Like steel, he is rigid and uncompromising in his ideals. His beliefs are of tantamount importance to who he is as a person, and he would sooner snap than bend when it comes to compromising who he is as a person. It would not be far from the truth for people to describe him as having a will of solid steel and a spine of iron. He is driven and determined to impose his will on to the world he sees as rotting from corruption and injustice and will not hesitate to ruin and crush those that stands in his way.
He is brutally honest to himself and holds himself to impossibly high standards because he knows that anything less will not suffice for the world he wants to build. He expects a lot from other people, especially those who'd dare call themselves his friends, but whatever he asks of them, it would never be something he himself would not be willing to do.
A natural leader, he is comfortable in positions of authority. Though he takes such roles very seriously, and he will diligently ensure that he proves worthy of such a position by doing his absolute best. This being said, his diligence and work ethic is admirable, and he lives by the tenet of being the first one in the foxhole and being the last one out. He believes wholeheartedly that a leader should be self-sacrificing, and so should always lead from the front to inspire and serve as an example for all those he leads to follow.
Despite this however, he doesn't have the arrogance that usually plagues people who gravitate towards positions of authority. While he doesn't care for false modesty, he doesn't care much about clout or getting recognition, seeing the fulfillment of his duty as a reward in and of itself. Humility is second nature to him, and he is more likely to quietly depart after doing his duty than he is to brag about it. Indeed, he rather dislikes having too much attention centered on himself and would much rather fulfill his ambition and plans without garnering too much attention. (Though he is by no means shy and uncomfortable with such.)
Like ice, he can be considered stoic and stern, and to those who dislike him, cold. Distant to most save for the closest companions, he is a consummate professional that dislikes over familiarity, seeing that such practices can lead to his objectivity being compromised.
He is never impulsive, and even split-second decisions are only made by him after weighing his every option. He doesn't like leaving things to chance and always thinks things through. Having such a calculating mindset gives people who do not know him an aura of cold cunning, and even he would admit there is some truth to that.
However, it would be a mistake to think that this cold nature of him makes him shy. He is not afraid to voice his opinions, and cares little about what other people would think of it, but he doesn't do so boorishly and rashly. He is careful with his words and decision because he considers consequences and whether there would be a better way to go about things.
Yet to those close to him, they would find a rather caring and affectionate young man who wants nothing more than to give the best to the people around him and to help them help themselves.
At his heart however, he is a material optimist and a lover. He wants to build a better world, rid it of all injustices because of how deeply he loves and cares for the oppressed and the disenfranchised. He wants to violently overthrow the system not because he has a streak of cruelty but because he wholeheartedly believes there is no better way, and that diplomacy gets people nowhere with the system that continues to exist despite years of people trying to rail against it.
And he ensures that he doesn't forget the cost of this, he know people would die, and that would be the price for a more equitable world without the violent ideologies which turned it into what it was today, and if it meant he had to lead the bloody charge and purge against the pureblood supremacists, he would gladly dirty his hands himself against them.
ASPIRATION: A systemic overthrow of the corrupt system of the Ministry. Though with that being said, he knows such a vague idea needs to be refined with actionable steps to get there. And so, he aims to get stellar grades in order to prepare an influential position for him outside of Hogwarts, whether in the Ministry or somewhere else, in order to train himself for the war he wants to wage. He intends to make a name for himself by ensuring he is the best duelist of his generation and that his prowess as a wizard is well known to people around the world.
He has his eye on a position in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures or the Department of International Magical Co-operation, and he would not hesitate to use his family's wealth and influence to secure a post for him there. He wants to prove to everyone how competent of a wizard he is, so that the Prince Family's Matriarch would name him successor to his family's empire.
Once that is done, he plans on using the resources his family has to make alliances with other likeminded individuals, maybe even forming and funding a private army that he'll use to liquidate people he deems as threats to the future he wants to build, getting rid of Pureblood Supremacists in order to clear a path for himself, (Or a puppet,) to seat themselves in the position of Minister for Magic, where he intends to pass radical legislation that would seek to take power away rom the Pureblood Elite to put it in the hands of the Half Bloods, Muggleborns and Half Breeds.
And should war break out because of this, he wants to be the one leading it.
| LIKES: - Practicality: He values practical and straightforward solutions and by extension, people. He has little regard for unnecessary pomp and pageantry.
- Studying: A voracious reader and a nascent philosopher, Ethan loves studying and reading up on various things, even things thought 'beneath' a scion of a respectable wizarding family like him. He has an innate curiosity about many topics including history, philosophy, magic, economics and even the arts. He doesn't discriminate between magical and mundane knowledge, and as long as it fits his interest, he will do his best to learn more about it.
- Music: Perhaps one of his very few pleasures enjoyed. He is musically inclined even from his youth, an adept violinist and a singer, he spends what little free time he has playing for his own pleasure.
- Dueling: From a young age, the virtues of martial magic have been repeatedly drilled and imposed on him. Trained in muggle schools of fencing and the more magical wizarding dueling styles, he often says that he feels most alive when playing his violin or when he's in the middle of a chaotic duel. The rigid routine of dueling practice he set for himself is something he sees as enjoyable rather than punishing, and something he looks forward to each day.
- Tea Brewing: Another respectable hobby he cultivated. He absolutely adores brewing tea and sees it as the ultimate measure of one's patience and attention to detail. He enjoys various blends and can identify what sort of tea leaves were used just by tasting it.
DISLIKES: - Blood Supremacy: Aside from finding it asinine and borderline savage, Ethan has a deep seated, often times violent dislike of the pureblood supremacy ideology. His hatred of such ideology permeates every asset of his life and is a driving factor of who he is as a person. He has little sympathy for pureblood supremacists and supports every initiative meant to curtail their influence, even if considered to be illegal or even 'unethical'. He firmly believes all injustice springs from the apartheid-adjacent ideology of the Pureblood Supremacists
- Cowardice and Hypocrisy: He dislikes cowards and hypocrites, and has no patience for people who do not have the spine to make a firm commitment to either side. He will not hesitate to call out and censure people who leave their comrades behind to save their own skin, and showing such vile behavior is a surefire way to get on his bad side.
- Wastefulness and Unnecessary Opulence: The unnecessary indulgence of the Wizarding World's ruling class is all too familiar for Ethan, being raised in such a world. While he has no trouble with memorizing the etiquette and donning his mask as an heir of the Prince Family, he has a dislike of such practices and feels that they are little more than performances for the most privileged in society to rub shoulders with each other while most people suffered under the oppression of the broken system they all live under.
- Surrendering: It would be a cold dead in hell before you get him to surrender. As long as he can conceive a way to win, he will take that path. He dislikes the feeling of losing and isn't used to failure, hence his high-strung attitude and absolute refusal to lose.
- Obstructive Bureaucrats and Corrupt Careerists: Leadership to him is leading from the front and empathizing with your people. You can imagine how much he dislikes careerist 'leaders' in all sectors. He believes that leading people is a privilege that is the nearest thing to a sacred duty. So, to see corrupt people 'leading' in positions of power using their seats to further their personal interests reminds him of the fundamental 'wrong' of the society they live in and his responsibility to rectify it.
|
FAMILY MEMBERS. | Elaine Kiselov-Prince, mother, 39, Prince Family Scion and socialite.
Ivan Kiselov, 41, Head of Veela Liasion Office for the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic and scion of the Kiselov Oligarchs.
Ellen Prince, 75, Grandmother, Matriarch of the Prince Family. |
CHILDHOOD. | Ethan Prince was born to the union of Elaine Kiselov-Prince, who was a socialite and a known theatre actress from the Prince family, and Ivan Kiselov, a full blooded Veela who came from the line of the Kiselov Oligarchs, a wealthy Bulgarian-Russian Oligarch. The two were smitten with each other completely, and with the prince family Matriarch, Ellen, wanting to expand their interests in Eastern Europe and Western Russia, it was a good enough match for her to give her blessing to.
While there was little expectation for Elaine, given that she, according to her own mother, 'never amounted to much,', Ethan was seen to be quite a bright young boy and a source of pride for his grandmother, who often doted on him. It was said that the formidable matriarch laughed when the infant Ethan bit her finger after she offered it to him.
Even from a young age, Ethan was very serious, cautious and obedient. Even before he learned how to read, he loved being read to by his caretakers, and if time would allow it, his grandmother. His grandmother often joked and said that his first word was 'Why?' . At age two, he was already speaking, and at age three, he was already reading. People often said he was in a hurry to grow up.
His grandmother indulged this side of him, and ensured his tutors started his lessons earlier. The house's majordomo instructed him in etiquette, history, languages and even fencing, which, despite being a Muggle Hobby, was welcomed in their household. He diligently attended these lessons and often thrived, earning the displeasure of some of his first and second cousins who thought that he overreached beyond his station. Such familial spats got him into mor than his fair share of childhood rough housing, and when his majordomo found him mounting his ten-year-old cousin when he was seven, repeatedly pummeling him, the man dryly remarked that he was either very foolish or very brave.
While his father wished for him to attend Durmstrang as he did, Ellen Prince quickly crushed that idea and said that she would loathe to be far away from her favored grandson, and that her daughter and her 'Starry eyed Veela,' can move back to Bulgaria if they wished, but that Ethan would grow up in the Prince Household.
His mother and father quickly obliged, abandoning him to the care of his grandmother without even telling him. And when he asked why his parents did such, his grandmother simply said they were not like him, and he was good to be rid of such people. |
SCHOOL YEARS. | Ethan, as Ellen planned, attended Hogwarts, and though Ellen favored him, she did not hesitate to put the burden of the family name on his shoulders. Ellen told him that he bore the family name Prince, that while they were not as pure nor as old as the Sacred Twenty Eight, they made up for it in wealth and influence, and that the beggaring families more often than not asked -them- for their patronage, and that there was pride in that as well, pride she insisted he do not squander like his mother had.
And so, his first year came. Hogwarts stunned him and enflamed the childish curiosity in his heart yet again. And during the sorting ceremony, before the hat even touched his head, it declared him for Slytherin, to the pride of his grandmother, who told him that most of their clan were from Salazar Slytherin's House.
He threw himself into his studies. His rigid lifestyle that developed his work ethic served him quite well in his first year, and he threw himself whole heartedly into his studies. While he maintained the cordial and polite etiquette drilled into him when meeting and dealing with wealthy scions like himself, his earliest years were focused on his studies and other activities such as intermediate lessons in dueling, as instructed to him by his grandmother.
What changed him into the person he is today happened during his third year, when he saw two of his Housemates bullying a classmate of his. When he interfered and told them to stop, they said that they were only doing what their house founder intended, ensuring that 'mudbloods' did not sully the name of the school, and he ought to join rather than interfere.
The distraction allowed the other student to open fire on the two bullies, and while he did not intend to fight, he was forced to draw his wand and fight against the other two bullies after being caught in the crossfire of spells. After the two of them defeated the other two bullies, the other student thanked him before departing.
Not two weeks later, his grandmother sent him a strongly worded letter of how he should not have been involved, and that the two students he fought were the scions of pureblood families they did business with. Aside from that, the classmate he saved approached him, injured, and told him that the other two retaliated and brought their friends with them to ensure he was 'taught a lesson,'
This painted an ugly picture in Ethan's curious heart, and it's the moment he started to question the society he lived in. It only got worse as the years went by, and his curiosity started expanding, and he started procuring readings and texts from muggles, to read them during his vacation and free time. Such texts were written by revolutionaries, revolutionaries like Vladimir Lenin, Fred Hampton, Che Guevarra, Mao Zedong, Ho Chih Minh and Jose Maria Sison. It didn't take long till he read near-banned manifestos from the IRA, NPA, Black Panther Party and other militantly organized groups, which radicalized him even further.
His studies did not suffer however, in fact, he had a renewed vigor for it, and those who questioned why he read muggle texts often did not ask him again after he told them to take whatever he was reading from his own hands if they felt that strongly about it. And during vacations, he concealed the texts in his own room, away from his grandmother's prying eyes.
He's entering Hogwarts as a seventh year now, after a refreshing vacation in Belfast, and he aims to preserve his image of a stellar and studious student, though he no doubt has deeper plans for his last year as a student. |
ADULTHOOD. | N/A |
Special Situations
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HERERP SAMPLE (200 words min.)
Kenneth had been around the globe. Indeed, he considered himself well-traveled. From Moscow, to Paris, and to Barcelona. He walked the lands in search of a great many things. One of which, is a dueling master who'd have the necessary knowledge to impart upon him. He was a Taylore, after all. There was always room for improvement. He could not be complacent, not ever, no.
Small wonder then, that he found his way into the bottom of old stone steps, leading into an ancient, Chinese Temple.
He heard words of this man. They did not know his name, because he only referred to himself as, "The Silver Serpent," Pretentious, maybe. But the villagers spoke both fear and admiration for the man. Admiration for his great deeds, such as slaying a blind dragon, alone, with nothing but his wands and his wits, and feared for his ill-temper, as he was known to murder people who displeased him without a second thought.
All in all, a most admirable and unpleasant man.
But what reservations he had were left at the footsteps on the ancient temples as he climbed up, holding nothing but his wand and his backpack. Whoever this man was, he was skilled at dueling. And Kenneth was going to learn from him, whether he liked it or not.
He halted, right as he reached the courtyard of the palace, with dozens of statues, big and small, surrounding the courtyard. All old artifacts, he reckoned. But most impressive was the old and gaunt man, wearing old robes and seated cross-legged at the middle of the courtyard, with a crown of hair as white as snow.
He took a few steps towards the direction of the man, who quickly opened his almond-shaped eyes, and already, a scowl crossed his face. "You are the ugly foreigner asking for my name, yes? Be glad that I am old and hospitable, or you'd be broken in half by now."
Great.
Kenneth took a knee, bowing his head, was customed when showing respect to people as old as this man, while he didn't see the man's face, he could feel the scowl on his face. "Need I repeat my self, wheat-haired ape? Why have you come to disturb me?" Breathing in, Kenneth tilted his head up to speak.
"I have come to ask for your tutelage, Master. I have searched for a mentor who'd teach me the secret arts of the martial magic, one who'd bring me to unprecendented hei—" With a scoff, and a stroke of the man's long white beard, he halted Kenneth's words.
"You disrespect me, foreigner! Seeking my halls with nary a gift, nor warning, and you come to order me to teach you the forbidden and secret arts? Am I your whipping slave, then? to be commanded at your behest? I should break your spine upon my knee for your transgressions, "
Kenneth bit his lip, and opened his motuh to reply. "Master, I mean n oofff-"
The man let out a short bark of a laughter, and eyed him up and down. "Disrespect once again, speaking before your elders have given you permission , and showing your displeasure. You amuse me, foreigner. Tell me, for you to disrespect me? Do you see yourself as my equal?"
Kenneth swallowed, his eyes on the man, and he spoke, "N-No, Maste--"
The man huffed yet again, "Are you aware that you are here at my gracious mercy, and if I wish, I could smite your homely presence from my halls with my left hand while taking a piss with my right?" And so, Kenneth bit on his lips harder, but nodded his head.
"The last disrespect I take from you you dull and talkative yellow donkey. Stand, then. That I may deliver your punishment and take my rightful reprieve...in blood." For once, Kenneth hesitated in jumping headfirst to a duel. Evident by the shift in his features. "Master, I meant no--"
A thunderous boom, as the man clapped his hands together, and a brutal force knocked him right on his chest, sending him flying off, right on his ass.
He blinked, trying to shake the dazed feeling off his senses... When he saw the old, Chinese man, standing, hands clasped behind his back. The scowl on his lips. "Get up, braying ass. " He stalked towards Kenneth, wh
o stood, dusting his jeans off dust and moving to draw his wand.
A laugh once more left the ancient man's lips, "Ah, I see. " He gave a crooked grin towards Kenneth, who returned it with a frown. "Land a single hit on me, and I will kiss the ground beneath your feet and call you master." And so, the battle was joined.
He thought he was fast, and it was evident, as Kenneth snapped his wand towards the man...But the man moved faster, as if lightning and wind blended together. he dashed...towards his spell, hands clasped behind his back still, before pirouetting from his spell, then lunging from his left, zig zagging and effortlessly dodging each jet of spell he unleashed.
"Ha! You display your skill and what you now, which is to say, nothing!" The man's voice thundered across the courtyard, and as he stalked closer, cold beads of sweat dripped down Kenneth's face, a single spell, that's all it needed ot took for him to teach this old man a le—
BANG!
The sound of a loud boom echoed through the courtyard yet again, and Kenneth couldn't even react fast enough to see the bright jet of light coming towards his chest, and when his vision refixed itself, he was stiff as a board...hovering a few inches above ground, his arms suspended parallel and straight on his sides....and the old warrior had his left hands shaped into a finger gun, The man unleashed another smile, and laughed heartily.
"Truly, you children are nothing but pathetic fatheads who think they're great warriors once they hold a wand!" The man laughed again, and turned his back to ken, clasping them once more behind him as he walked off. "I carry not a wand, and performed magic without wands, and still you could not land a single blow, pathetic. I will let you live with the shame,"
He felt the man's spell loosened, and Kenneth collapsed on his knees....but the familiar boiling within him grew, and grew...till it clouded his head, and against all common sense, Kenneth made a dash towards the man, wand brandished, but before a spell left his lips, the man in front of him disappeared with a silent popped, and he felt a great and searing pain, like hundreds of foot long needles sinking to his every pore washing over him.
He screamed, loudly, but as he moved his arms, he felt ap air of iron grips grab his wrist, and pull it behind him.
"Chǔnlǘ!" The man growled out in a thick accent. "Have you no honor, you bloody child? Attacking when one's back is turned?" He snapped his finger, and the searing pain intensified. "Excruciating, isn't it? Dishonorable rats like you deserve nothing more!"
He could only nod in response.
"This arm of yours is now mine," The man twisted his wrist. "As payment for your several disrespects. And so, like my own, this arm will be strong, and fast. You do not own this arm, and I will be damned to the hells if I let a weakling like you let my arm fester in weakness," The man hissed, before pushing him down, right on his face, and hte searing pain disappeared. But them and's poisoned words remained in his ears.
"I will train my arm then, that it becomes stronger. And you will come with, you will not speak unless spoken to, lest I take my cane and beat you like a dog. You will not eat unless I tell you, your only purpose is to strengthen my arm, foreigner. Now rest your pain, and crawl into the temple once you're done weeping like a petulant child, we have much work to do."
All he could hear were the light foot steps of the old master.
OOC INFO
Alias: ken
Other Characters: n/a
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