DALIGOY, OSIRUS DREN

[Osirus Daligoy]

OSIRUS • DREN • DALIGOY

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ALTHOUGH NO-ONE UNDERSTOOD

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NAME: Osirus Dren Daligoy
NICKNAMES: Sir, Sirus, Raven
GENDER: Male
AGE/D.O.B: 17/October 31st
HOUSE: Ravenclaw
OCCUPATION: Student
BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood

WE WERE HOLDING BACK THE FLOOD[/font]
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PLAY-BY: Andrew "Andy Sixx" Biersack
HAIR: Black, long hair. Often teased or spiked into a rocker style.
EYES: Large and intensely blue, framed by remarkably long, thick lashes.
BODY AND HEIGHT: Skinny and wiry - standing 6'2".
DISTINCT MARKINGS: A pierced lip.
CLOTHING/STYLE: Almost always tight, be it denim or leather. He's a rocker at heart and it's blatantly obvious! With that being said, he isn't past donning rather girlish accessories.
ANYTHING ELSE: He is quite convinced he has Veela blood because he "looks like a chick".

LEARNING HOW TO DANCE THE RAIN[/font]
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LIKES: Rain, especially storms (1), roses (2), playing the piano and guitar (3), singing (4), being alone (5), being sarcastic (6), privacy (7)
DISLIKES: Talkative people (1), bright lights (2); loud, unexpected noises (3); being ignored (4), being controlled (5), weak or spineless people (6), being told he isn't good enough (7)
STRENGTHS: Exceptionally intelligent (1), tirelessly loyal usually (2), poetic (3), alert (4), thoughtful (5), somewhat surprisingly a hopeless romantic (6)
WEAKNESSES: Depressed (1), extremely moody (2), low self esteem (3), aloof (4), cold (5), sarcastic (6), generally unwelcoming (7), easily unravelled (8)
PRIORITIES: School (1), ambition (2), family (3). In that order.
BOGGART: Falling in love (1), loss (2), freaking dragons (3), rejection (4)
ERISED: Although he fears and avoids it, what he desires most is love. It's extremely complicated.
VERITASERUM: He secretly has suicidal thoughts - it's obvious why he doesn't tell.
PATRONUS: Thestral - His happiest memory is of the day he was sorted into Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin.
PENSIEVE: Waking up from "that girl" (Rose)'s love potions.
PERSONALITY OVERVIEW: The first thing worth mentioning about Osirus is probably what most people notice first. Which is, to say, a guarded and somewhat cruel rebel who would almost certainly prefer his pet cat to the company of humans. And really, that just doesn't do him justice. It's all driven by fear and anger, add a dash of teenage hormones and holy crap that could have been my parents tortured and killed, and it isn't hard to see why he's so very distant! He hides behind his cold exterior and dagger-sharp tongue. In fact, some in his house know Sirus as "that guy that can make prefects cry." He doesn't recall doing so, but he figures he probably could if he got a chance and a prefect with low enough self esteem... Nobody ever said he was compassionate.

But he isn't too much of a bad guy - the Sorting Hat must have seen so in him, as he's a Ravenclaw, because he doesn't think he's that smart. Just not Slytherin enough to be in Slytherin house. But boy, is he ever the clever one, with an eye for detail and logic skills rather impressive for a 17 year old. Sadly, as is true of many clever people, he's a horrible cynic whose cold judgment seems to be locked on how apparently horrible love is. All about pushing candies and love potions, right? Nobody would guess the idea of love scares him brainless, and even moreso because he wants it, comparable to wanting a tattoo or piercing while knowing it will hurt. A lot. And probably be the straw that drove the camel to offing himself - oh, piercings. Right. Besides, who needs such silly things as "love" when they have their dreams? As corny as that seems, Osirus keeps himself sane with his questionable ambition, which is limited to "power" and "being awesome", one of which will eventually have to grow up, and here's a hint - it isn't power. To be completely honest, he'd be a Death Eater if it meant somebody had to call him "sir", and not just because it's his nickname.

Also, don't mess with his mother. Sir is a mommy's boy through and through, and has been known to hex the kid that called her a slug. (Yes, a slug.)

WE WERE HOLDING BACK THE FLOOD[/font]
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FATHER: "Arachne" Joseph Daligoy, aged 45.
MOTHER: Bastet Daligoy, aged 46.
SIBLINGS: Seth Daligoy, aged 13.
OTHER FAMILY:
SOCIO-ECONOMIC STATUS: Upper middle class.
HISTORY OVERVIEW: Osirus was born to a... Quirky family. His mother was born with the gift of magic, something her husband was aware of and quite respectful of. Arachne, as he was called, was but a mere Muggle, but he had always been open to the world's secrets, even if he was a clueless goof. The two married and conceived a child, and this child was destined to be a wizard. Not like it was obvious, because as a baby Sir was very average. Probably the only time in his life he didn't look like an anorexic rockstar. His parents showered him with love and attention from day one, and he was the center of their world. His start was much more fortunate than most, and he's thankful for that to this very day. He was also, as long as he can remember, aware of magic and silently hoping he, like his mother, had the gift. As he grew older and older, he showed a rather mature personality, not the kind to joke about and play. No, he was a sullen child, as if driven to depression already by the fear that he was normal.

Until he lit a candle by simply sneezing on it, of course. Then he was so happy he stuttered, a habit he still has today. And not too long later, well, his letter arrived. He was sent off with tears of joy and fervent "I'll miss you!"s from both parents, whom loaded their eldest son off to school with a brand new pet - a little black kitten named Excalibur. Sir's brother Seth was not born with the gift of magic, sadly. Osirus was sorted into Ravenclaw, which wasn't a surprise to him or his parents, and though he was happy, he was still the somber and sober Sir that his family had mostly seen. If he could have seen where it would leave him in the span of six short years then, well, he would have really been reserved.

He was an average student, perhaps even a good one, and would have been better if he made more of an effort. Not that he was lazy or undedicated, he was a teenager. As he grew older, his simple calm began to transform into real depression, as the few "friends" he had were stolen away by love. And he also saw how heartbroken they were as every relationship ended. It was no help that he, in his ever so curious teenage years, took a liking to a completely straight friend and had to seperate himself from his friends. He vowed never to love. And that year, his fourth at Hogwarts, went as such. Until the end neared, when a strange box of chocolates found their way to him. Well, it did have his name on it, and he was pretty hungry...

And thus, he found himself in love with a formerly secret admirer for the last month of the school year. Her name was Rose, and she was a beautiful yet cruel girl who was well known for being a heartbreaker. How else would she ensnare the hardest to attain prize in all of Ravenclaw house, if not with chocolates laced with love potion? The two lovers were almost always together, that annoying couple that has to sit on the same side of the booth and practically in each other's laps. All was going well, and Osirus didn't suspect a thing wrong. And hey, love wasn't all that bad if it involved a gorgeous girl feeding him chocolates all day.

Until school ended, of course, when the potions wore off. He and Rose never talked again, Osirus pretended it never happened, and he was forever scarred. Dramatic, maybe, but he now carried fear beyond words. Not only was love horrible and hurtful, but it was tempting and, daresay, sweet. Sweet as the chocolates that brought the pseudo-feeling of love in the first place.

THEY SAID WE’D NEVER DANCE AGAIN[/font]
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YOURNAME: Damian, though I go by Techno OOCly.
YOURAGE: 18 years young
YOURTIMEZONE: Central time (US)
YOUREXPERIENCE: Several (5-6) years of forum RP.
YOUROTHERCHARS: N/A
YOURSAMPLE: From another forum.

The blue-eyed shifter pouted dramatically at Lark after the punch, but not at the punch of course. He looked delicate, but was hardly breakable. No, it was a false pout at the playful threat from his alpha. "I'm hurt," he whined sadly, "that you would do such a thing to poor little me!" Mischief flashed for the umpteenth time in his eyes, and he fluttered his lashes, giving a theatrical sniffle. "You know how much that hurts me." Another whine, this time wordless, was given before he quite suddenly straightened up and smiled. Not like he did those things for attention, but he did know the real reasons. One, it stopped his biting cruelty and sarcasm from leaking through and eating away at whatever friendships he had, because oh, it would if he let it. Secondly, it was simply who he was. Sir still felt bad for the kid, namely because something had obviously happen to put a barrier between Max and 'Sabe', for why else would the topic not come up?

Maybe Max would have feared Osirus going to his twin? There was a reason that theory seemed so plausible. Hell, although the blue-eyed shifter hadn't meant it, he'd temporarily gone to Kaden and Kaden didn't even look like Max. The smile faded. Sir still felt bad about that, and it seemed to be increasingly clear - at least to Osirus, so often plagued by self-loathing and insecurity when not floating atop his own ego - that he owed several apologies to Max. Yes, he'd do that. Maybe not with direct, obvious words. But he'd apologize. And maybe there was a little bit of hurt because Max hadn't chose to tell Sir by now, but as both himself and Brain stated after the thought, There's quite a lot you're not telling him yet, y'know. It was unlike Brain to defend Max ad instead take a hit at Sir, but Brain was right regardless, and the hurt left. Well, most of it. Now there was just guilt.

The tall shifter gave Newt a farewell wave, halfway wanting to saunter over and see what the hell they were teaching kids these days. He gave the other two adults (or near adults, considering Sebastian was there) a bit of mercy and let his gaze follow the younger kid boredly, before sweeping the room and seriously wishing whoever had seemingly taken a bath in cologne would leave ASAP. It was giving him a headache.... Again. He glared, narrowing his vivid blue eyes to black-lined slits before flicking them back to Lark and Sabe, glare easing. As Sir spoke, and his request was met by answers, he shrugged and lit up. Better to smell smoke than that goddamn cologne. He wanted to roll his eyes. Sir's mother and dad didn't like him smoking either, but they - as usual - were lenient enough to only confiscate whatever he had upon entering their house and gripe if he smelled of the smoke. (They gave his lighters back, but he figured the trash can would be the only one to enjoy those lost smokes.) But then he realized that Sabe's parents would be Max's parents and dropped his gaze to the floor.

Still, he gave a short wave to Sabe as he attempted his escape, gaze rising and wiping itself of melancholy. "Don't get yourself into trouble," he reminded the Max almost lookalike. "If you do, guess who'll have to be the ones to bail you out.." But Sir didn't dislike his job in the pack one bit. In fact, he rather liked it. With Max, lately Sir had hardly been able to be his tougher, fiercer self. But that wasn't Max's fault, or Sir's. Simply another of those things about the shifter that kept surprising him, as he hadn't even known a softer side of him existed prior to that boy blazing his way into Sir's life. Ah, those were the days.

Osirus was snapped out of his reverie (which, in reality, had only been a fraction of a second filled with thought) by Darren and Lark. Upon mention, Sir took a thoughtful drag and let the smoke curl out, over his lips, as he replied. "It was more like a promise," he stated matter-of-factly, "but the kid's got nothin' to worry 'bout." The blue eyes would drift to the side, the shifter again thinking of the boy whose name had been drawn alongside Sir's in that heart when Lark had found him. A moment passed. Back to Darren. "Any chance there's a Shasta back there?"

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