Post by Matthew Adams-Grant on Apr 9, 2012 2:47:06 GMT -4
MATTHEW • GRAYSON • ADAMS-GRANT
[/font]
[/center]ALTHOUGH NO-ONE UNDERSTOOD
[/font]t h e . b a s i c s[/center][/color][/font][/size]
WE WERE HOLDING BACK THE FLOOD[/font]
NAME: matthew grant
NICKNAMES: matt . mattie . adam . grant .
GENDER: male
AGE/D.O.B: 4.7.1980
HOUSE: hufflepuff
OCCUPATION: seventh year student
BLOOD STATUS: pure blood
t h e . m i r r o r . i m a g e [/center][/color][/font][/size]
LEARNING HOW TO DANCE THE RAIN[/font]
PLAY-BY: jude law<3
HAIR: dirty blonde in the sun . sandy brown in the not-sun . short but fun .
EYES: silver and blue
BODY AND HEIGHT: 5"8 . 131 ibs . leanly muscled with good proportions .
DISTINCT MARKINGS: faded burn mark across the palm of his left hand .
CLOTHING/STYLE: aside from occasionally forgetting to shave, he's a pretty clean cut kid. always cleans up after binge drinking. although his roommates know about his liquor stash under the mattress, he keeps the room and himself tidy anyways just so the dormheads don't go messing with his things and finding his little collection. as far as fashion goes, there's not much he can do about the dress code so in his spare time (aka, beer time) he likes to let loose with spring and summer shirts; button down, plaid, anything that lets him breathe, really. for the southern region, he gets a tad lazy, often throwing on slim-straight jeans or even beach shorts if the weather calls for it. if you ask him nicely, he may even throw on some aviators and pose while you take pictures.
ANYTHING ELSE: H.A.W.T;]
just look at that smile *d'awwww*
t h e . p e r s o n a l i t y[/center][/color][/size][/font]
WE WERE HOLDING BACK THE FLOOD[/font]
LIKES:
+ tomato soup
+ God
+ beer
+ vodka
+ whiskey
DISLIKES:
- curfew
- Care of Magical Creatures class
- cold food
- hangovers
- studying
STRENGTHS:
+ outgoing and likeable
+ optimistic || quick to move on
+ charismatic
WEAKNESSES:
- slow witted
- easily manipulated
- procrastinator
- bad at lying
PRIORITIES:
|- church
|- become a bar tender
|- get married
BOGGART:
- magical beasts [and reptiles]
- Hell
- fire
ERISED:
+ live a happy, normal Christian life
VERITASERUM:
- his cat vegas was supposed to be his uncle's christmas present for angela but matt never told her, instead keeping the feline for himself
- he's a good guy but has never made his stance on the war known
PATRONUS:
white dove
~ going to Hogwarts with his sister on her first day ~
PENSIEVE:
x having to hear from the authorities that his parents were gone x
PERSONALITY OVERVIEW:
it's hard to find an optimist nowadays what with the war and secrecy and darkness. luckily, being religious has made matthew into one. an easy-to-read kind of guy, he's very american in his mannerisms; outgoing and sociable, almost inhibitionless, if you will. he lacks the british accent and even has a bit of a southern air, his own attitude tending to be warmer and more open to strangers. a good christian, he's a pretty traditional guy in the sense that he won't sex you up until he's married you first [this has likely had some influence in him naming his cat 'vegas']. along with defining his lifestyle, its given him an openminded outlook. he's fairly laid-back, perhaps even too non-judgmental for his own good. in his easy-going character, he's a simple kind of guy with a straight-forward mindset. funny, but rather slow at figuring out a person's true character, it's almost as if he's welcoming the darkness in.
perhaps matthew's most defining characteristic besides his sporty attitude is his love for alcohol, which is almost on par with his love for God. a drinker by blood, he follows in his father's footsteps for always appreciating a beer or five when he's got nothing better to do (aka, all the time). as a quidditch player, he makes sure to drink early rather than late if he's got a game the next day so that he might avoid a hangover which, as he's come to learn, can be extremely unpleasant. still, he takes the bottle with its good and its bad, downing all in a series of shots. whiskey, beer, rum, vodka- you name it and he's had it. its his infamous quality, really the only thing he's known for- the alcoholic christian. his sister is quite aware of the fact that he gets drunk almost every day, and she has long since given up on getting him to care about his studies. a happy drunk, he couldn't care less about learning how to disarm a friendly chap so long as he knows how to summon a six-pack with an 'acio beer'.
t h e . h i s t o r y[/center][/color][/size][/font]
THEY SAID WE’D NEVER DANCE AGAIN[/font]
FATHER:gerard dominic moreno
MOTHER:christina mihailovna
SIBLINGS: angela kaylin adams-grant . first year .
OTHER FAMILY: thomas mikhailovich . maternal uncle .
marina kaleb grant . legal guardian .
SOCIO-ECONOMIC STATUS: lower middle class - poor
HISTORY OVERVIEW:
originally born in the southern state of tennessee, matt was raised in america by his mother christina and his father gerard. although his father had lived in the region all his life, matt's mother grew up in england with her brother thomas, a squib. although both his parents used magic, they agreed not to let their son know until he was ten, when his family would move back to england for him to attend his mother's school, hogwarts.
he lived a very happy life with his mother and father. gerard was a free spirit, amicable and talkative, and he supported the family with the profit he made at his bar in the local wizarding community. christina was a compassionate devout catholic and raised her son in the same way, taking him to church every morning and sending him off to muggle school right after. taking after his parents' influence, matthew was a cheerful little boy, optimistic and outgoing like his father, religious and considerate as his mother was. his childhood was a happy one until the day he turned six.
while matt's parents had tried to stay out of the war, christina found out through letters from her brother that things were bad in england. thomas had become an informant for the order in recent years, and kept this hidden from both family and friends; including his sister. when she found out, she mailed him back demanding he back out before he got himself killed. unfortunately, unlike her brother, christina had not devoted years of her life to secrecy and detective work. she neglected to be subtle in her wording, and the death eaters, with informants of their own, got their hands on the letter before thomas did. he was forced to go into hiding, virtually disappearing off the face of the earth (with the order's help) without so much as a good-bye to the people he was leaving behind.
although thomas ran from his troubles, his troubles did not go away. determined to draw him out of hiding, the death eaters targeted those who were closest to them; his family.
a few weeks after matthew's sixth birthday, his mother gave birth to a little sister, angela. while the baby girl was being cared for in the hospital's nursery due to minor malnutrition issues, he was at his father's bar helping gerard mix drinks when a group of strangers walked in asking where they might find christina adams. wanting to know what it was they needed from his wife, gerard asked and gave the death eaters another way to get back at thomas mikhailovich. they tortured the man until finally, as all human beings must break, he told them she was out shopping and would be back at their home by noon. all this happened as matt cowered under the counter, the death eaters ignoring him so long as he didn't make a sound. however, just when it seemed they were about to leave, an avada kadavra was issued, and gerard went still. they covered it up by lighting the place on fire, expecting the man's son to be killed in the ensuing destruction.
matt's still not sure whether it was luck or terrible misfortune that they were wrong.
even as the world seemed to smoke and char and burst into a fiery hell, the boy managed to hurl a flaming bottle through the windows, unable to break down the sealed doors. crawling through the broken glass and to the safety outside, he collapsed and awoke in the arms of a fireman. his mother's body was never found, and matt and his baby sister were sent to england to live with their next in line of kin, the infamous uncle tom.
despite the horror he witnessed, matt didn't seem too bothered. it was assumed that he didn't even remember, a sort of defense system in which the mind deals with stress by eliminating the source completely. it helped that there was little to remind him of the incident. he never saw his uncle thomas. the man left his nephew and niece in the care of a nurse maid, sending money every now and then so that she might support the children. in this manner, matt grew up rather alone, having to take care of his sister as she and the maid grew older. the money their uncle sent was enough to live off of, but only sparingly. to fill in the feelings of solidarity, he joined the english church, going each day with the maid and seeking solace in the idea of a better place awaiting him.
although matt's parents hadn't wanted their son to be exposed to the world of magic at such a young age, the maid that cared for him and his sister was a witch who'd studied at hogwarts, and figuring that thomas wouldn't consider letting his niece and nephew know that magic existed, she shared this revelation with matt, who took to the idea instantly. to him, magic was a gift from God, a blessing to do angels' work and make the world a better place. he liked the idea of being special and having something to give back. and when he turned 11 and he got that letter in the mail, he realized his optimism had paid off.
considering the take-over of hogwarts and his heritage, matt couldn't afford to let it his uncle's name be known. thomas cut off his patronage and matt and his sister were forced to change their names and list the maid that cared for them as their legal guardian. it was actually matt who chose the first hyphen, drawing adam from the Bible, while his sister, wanting some part in it, threw a fancy 's' at the end. marina grant, their maid, who by then had grown quite close the two and often thought of them as her own children, played along and sought money from the childrens' uncle only when she dared. thus matt found a career and income in smuggling in drinks and making a small profit off of what was leftover from his splurges.
t h e . r o l e p l a y e r[/center][/color][/size][/font]
YOURNAME: birdy . barky . barketh . eve . whatever floats your boat;]
YOURAGE: 15and a half
YOURTIMEZONE: eastern
YOUREXPERIENCE: very ... wait, what?
YOUROTHERCHARS: none ... >_> ... <_< ... yet ... >_<
YOURSAMPLE:... can i just slap together something from another site ... mynty you know how I rp T_T
He woke up to something shaking in his ear.
It surprised him at first. The sound was that of an epileptic maraca, and his first instinct was to smack his pillow with an irritated fist. When the noise persisted however, pausing every second or so before picking up again, he suddenly remembered.
As elegantly as his sleep-tingly limbs could manage, he slipped one hand under the pillow and felt around awkwardly for the vibrating phone. A few seconds of fumbling and grunting later and the disturbance ceased.
Then he waited.
The night sky outside was dark, a soft glow trickling down his neighbor's rooftop before cascading into the street below. For a moment, he considered going back to sleep and forgetting all about the alarm. He could lay his head down, shut out the moon's eerie light, and pretend he was okay with everything staying the way it was.
He waited a little longer, but he was no longer tired.
As quietly as possible, he slid the sheets off of him, thankful for the cold cement floors that would muffle his footsteps.
He crouched there for a moment, moving only to scratch his chin and then shake his hair through one hand. Then he looked down at his bed, a lay out of towels he'd been 'borrowing' from the REC Pool over the years, and grabbed his favorite (softer than the rest, it was his first), slinging it across his shoulder and taking the cell phone in one hand.
Then he waited some more. Let the realization sink in.
When his feet started tingling, he stood up and stretched. A yawn broke free despite himself, and he headed deliberately to the corner of his room. There, a pile of his clothes lay in wait for their owner, folded and clean with the honey-thick smell of lilacs. It bugged him, but he was without a washer and the only person he'd felt comfortable asking was the 45-year old cat lady across the street. She scared him, but she was kind.
Brushing away some lingering feline tufts, he tugged on a sweater (it was too dark to guess the color) and shoved the rest of the clothes into an already half-filled backpack. The rattle of canned food as he carelessly shuffled the bag's contents made him freeze, throat dry, eyes wide even though there was no light to help him see if someone was coming.
Silence.
He resumed.
-random: that wasn't mattie. just some guy from another story I got lazy on.-
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