Post by ANTHONY JAMES MULCIBER on Nov 3, 2012 1:45:09 GMT
anthony james mulciber
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full name:
Anthony James Mulciber
age:
Seventeen
year:
7th
birthday:
May 5th, 1960
blood line:
Pureblood
occupation:
Student
house:
Slytherin
James William Mulciber- James is Anthony's father. A very harsh and brutal man who cares for nothing except the family's status in the wizarding world. These two operate on a hate-to-hate relationship. He was the one who had told him all that he knew. He was also very abusive to his wife and son. On the outside he was a very charming and handsome gentlemen. Behind closed doors, there lies a different story. James is the only family that Anthony has after all.
Alyssa Mulciber- Anthony barely remembers anything about his mother except for the warm touches and hugs. She had died when she was three by a freak accident.
Some things to note about Mr. Mulciber:
Some people might describe me as being downright evil. I am rather cold and cruel to most people and would not give anyone the doubt unless they are of pureblood descent or a Slytherin. To me muggleborns and halfbloods are a waste of time and should be worth nothing. I never miss an opportunity to torture others. I’m sly and cunning and highly ambitious. I do admit that I am a rather proud man. I take pride of my heritage and look down on others that are less than worthy. I see myself more as a leader rather than a follower. I like to take control of situations and I will do it by force as well. I do have a few friends that I consider to be…close I guess. The other Slytherins are just mere acquaintances. I consider myself as a private person. I don’t share details with my life to anyone. Throughout the years I had learned not to show any emotion. The one thing that I lack is empathy and sympathy. Basically the only emotions that I have are hatred, anger, and everything in between. Some might say that I lack emotions to add to that and they’re right. I often detached myself from people and situations. I’m that type of person that sits and watches on the sidelines observing people.
I would like to say that my observing skills are good. People would describe me as a reserved and quiet type of person. I like to get to the bottom of things. Do I rely on my mind more than other people? Of course. I like to do things my own way. I like to have my fun every now and then. I like to torture people and mess around with their minds. My sense of humor is ‘evil’ according to some people. I like to call it entertainment. I never trust people that easy and because of that I do get suspicious of others. I am rather blunt. I don’t sugar coat things. I tell it like it is. I’m more level headed when in stressful situations. Adding to that I do not panic easily. Most people would say that my temper is really explosive. And it is. It takes little for it to go off and when it does I’m not a person one would want to be around. It also takes a lot to calm me down and I often find that I act when in a temper. Most of the times it would be something that I would somehow regret later. Or not at all. I am the type of person that loves to see people suffer. I enjoy putting people through the Cruciatus Curse. I’m also manipulative and I love to twist people’s words around. Of course I do have my flaws. Ignorant and impatient probably tops the two known about me. I was never the most patient person around. I was never tolerant around others to begin with.
The worst memory:
I was nine years old year when I had accidently broken one of his ‘prized possessions.’ The thing was rubbish really but it didn’t stop him. I was ten when I discovered my father drinking. The stupid bastard. That in itself had led to abuse and beatings. Of course he threatened to disown me if I told a single soul. As if I would ever be that stupid enough.
The best memory:
My patronus is a fox. I had used my memories of my mother before she died. I let the warm feeling overwhelm me. Tell anyone and you're dead.
My history sum up in years:
May 5th, 1960:
The Mulciber family welcomed a new born baby boy at 2 am this morning. The parents had decided to name the child Anthony James Mulciber. The name Anthony was taken from his grandfather and James is the name of the father. James had his marriage arranged to Alyssa Leighton when he was seventeen years old. At nineteen years old, when he came of age, the two of the married. Not for love, as most people would have thought of, but for the sake of continuing the family bloodline and, of course, pureblood politics. Now Alyssa was as polite as ever and a respectful pureblood lady. James was quite the gentleman in public. Behind closed doors, he showed his true colors as a dark and sadist man. Someone who was proud of his status and walks over people lesser than him. His main goal was to join the Death Eaters and follow Lord Voldemort and his dreams of purging the world of Muggleborns and Halfbloods. James also wanted to teach his son his twisted ways. His hope was that Anthony would follow in the footsteps of his father.
Childhood from 1960 to 1967. Seven years old.
Told in Anthony’s point of view.
My childhood is something that I always keep to myself. You probably know about my parents already so there’s no need to go back and refresh your mind. My infant year were quite comfortable thank you very much. I grew up with the best of everything because I was so lucky and blessed to be born into an old pureblood family. Or so my father tells me anyways, even though I hardly ever listen to him. What goes in one ear comes out of the other. At least I think that’s the saying. Well, anyways, back to the subject at hand. I don’t know my mother at all you see. She died when I was three years old in a freak accident according to my father. We really don’t talk about her that much at the manor. Probably one of the few subjects that are forbidden. The only things I really remember about her were the warm touches and the hugs. If it wasn’t for the photo album I have under my bed I probably won’t remember what she looked like. Pretty sad wouldn’t you think so? I was left to be raised by my father, grandfather, and the house elves .
1968. Eight Years old and turning point.
A week after my eighth birthday was pretty much the turning point for me. My father started teaching me the ways of a pureblood. Honestly, they should really make a book about that. ‘101 ways to become a successful pureblood’ or something along those lines. Rule Number One; always look down at those less than worthy of you. It pretty much explains my whole life. At that age I thought it was near impossible for me to tell who’s a pureblood and who isn’t. My father had said it all when I asked him. Only remember the faces of those that have been invited to the pureblood parties and balls. It brings me to the next rule. Rule Number Two; always acting like your high and mighty in their society. It means less bullies and less people that would pick on you. I would pretty much go on and on but I think that you get the picture. If I had managed to get anything, and I mean anything, wrong, my father would pretty much put the Cruciatus Curse on me for about a few seconds. He didn’t lay a hand on me until a year later when I had accidently broken one of his ‘prized possessions.’ The thing was rubbish really but it didn’t stop him. I was ten when I discovered my father drinking. The stupid bastard. That in itself had led to abuse and beatings. Of course he threatened to disown me if I told a single soul. As if I would ever be that stupid enough.
Eleventh Birthday. May 5th, 1971.
I was woken up in the early morning hours by a sound of an owl tapping lightly on the window. Throwing off the covers I was going to curse the blasted thing but I choose not to as I saw what it was carrying. My heart beating I slowly opened the window and the thing flew in, dropped the letter on my bed and flew back out. I picked it up with shaken hands and quickly tore open the envelop. A huge grin started to spread across my face as I read the Hogwarts letter. It wasn’t a surprise to me as I knew I would be getting it. “That’s my boy,” My father had commented as he leaned back on his chair. “You’ll do well in Slytherin and if you are in any house other than that you will be thrown out and disowned.” I looked at my plate of food with a scowl on my face. I knew better than to argue with him. “A lot of the children that you grew up around will be in Slytherin. You better maintain contact with them and try not to do anything funny to disgrace our name.”
“Yes father,” I whispered before turning to dig in my half-finished food. After breakfast we quickly put our cloaks on. My father gripped my hand tightly before walking out. Our house was placed under Disapparation wards. It’s impossible to appear and disappear from anywhere inside the mansion so we had to walk a bit before he could disapparate. The sight of Diagon Alley had never taken my breath away to be honest. Every chance that I got I always went with my parents. I had gotten a tan black owl I had decided to name Athena. I would have gotten one of the cats but my father had sneered at my idea. He doesn’t bother with cats that much and pretty much shot that idea down. “Boys like you don’t get cats. Unless you want to be called a sissy and disgrace the family name. You don’t want that do you?” There was so much venom in his voice that I knew better than to argue with him.
1971-1974.
That summer seemed to have gone by quickly enough. It was basically the same old routine. Waking up in the morning, going over to the pureblood children’s homes for a few hours, come back home and being ridiculed by my father and sometimes even getting beaten by the man. I didn’t know when I had cracked under the pressure of my father into being like him. But anyways, there we were standing in front of the Hogwarts Express while my father gave me a good talking to. It was the usual stuff. He threatened me with being disowned and thrown out of the house if I was not in Slytherin. He also wanted to make and maintain contact with the children of the Death Eaters. The ties were more important and having our family name being pure. Things like that always were with my father. I just nodded and said that I would. “You better get on the train boy. You don’t want to be late.” “Yes father.” With that I was off. I had come across a few Death Eater children on the train and we had a compartment to ourselves. Needless to say it was pretty fun with us sitting and insulting the many people we were raised to hate and loathed. The train had come to a halt and we were more than ready to get off. I had stared around in slight wonder as we walked through those double doors. The mere sight of it took my breath away as I had never been at Hogwarts and it was nothing like my father had told me.
“Mulciber, Anthony!”
While walking up I had stumbled a little on my robes. Blasted things, I thought angrily before straightened myself out quickly and walking over to the stool. I looked around the Great Hall with sharp eyes and no one seemed to have noticed. The old professor had slipped the hat on my head.
“Ah ha. Another Mulciber. I know what to do with you….SLYTHERIN!”
My problem was solved. I know my father would be extremely pleased to hear that I was sorted into the family’s house. Good. I won’t be plummeted like a rag doll. The first year went by too fast for me. I learned a whole lot of other things. Some of them I already knew from my parents, namely my father. Nothing really happened during those few years. I did gain a lot of friends and enemies from almost everywhere. The foolish thing that I had done was talking to a couple of first year Gryffindors. The girls were afraid of me as they heard a lot of bad things about Slytherin but they slowly grew to warm up to me. A group of older Slytherins, they would have to be fifth years, had found me and dragged me along. They gave me a good talking to and had threatened to contact my father if I ever did something like that again. I was downright terrified of them and promised never to do anything like that again. Deep down inside of me, I resented who I was. A twelve year old pureblood boy that was raised to loath Muggleborns. Needless to say I turned my behavior around after that.
1975.
By my fifth year I was nasty as can be. That in part I credit to my father during our summer training sessions. I had really came a long way. Anyways, my fifth year was when I had gotten the chance to attack one of the other students. A Muggleborn Gryffindor and a good goody person in my opinion. Her name? Mary MacDonald. I had ran into her while on my way to the lawns for Herbology class. That day I was feeling practically resentful and wanted to take my frustration out on anyone. She just happened to be by. “Well well look at what we have here. What are you doing all by yourself Mudblood? Running back to your hideout with your tail in between your legs?” There were a couple of really nasty comments from my part and some sarcastic retorts from her. I had smirked and pulled out my wand. “Imperio!”
I was having fun watching her dangling from the edge of the Astronomy Tower. I was having fun playing around with her head. “I should make you jump for those snappy comments back in the halls. What do you think?” My voice had been dangerously soft. I had decided to let her go. “Next time I will make you jump Mudblood. And believe me when I said to watch your mouth and who you’re talking to. You have no idea what I’m capable of. Keep that in mind.” My eyes had gone icy before I had let her off the curse and walked off, feeling practically pleased with myself. There would be another opportunity to torture her. As long as she was by herself and no one was around. I am not a fool to be picking fights when other students or even teachers are around. I value my life and do not want my father’s hands wrapped around my neck or even worse. Later that year I had taken my O.W.Ls and I was pretty confident that I had gotten good scores. Hell, I had to or else my father would murder me. And believe me when I say that he won’t hesitate to either. The summer before my sixth year I had gotten the results of my exams. Twelve O.W.Ls and my father had clapped me on the back. Finally. Now I can say good bye to my most hated classes. Later on in my fifth year I had tried out for the Slytherin Quidditch team and got the spot that I was hoping for: A Chaser.
1976-1977, current year.
Last year was almost a breeze for me. It was my sixth year and I was taking the classes that were needed for me to graduate in my choosen field. What is it you might ask? Well, since you asked so kindly it's in the Department of Magical Law. My father had somewhat lessened on the abuse but not as much unfortunately. I watched MacDonald just waiting for my chance to torture her again. This past summer was when things had gotten VERY interesting. The mudblood loving headmaster Dumbledore had died. Lord Voldemort is in charge. That's right mudbloods. I'm coming after you. New laws are in affect.[/size][/ul]
alias:
Voldemort
gender:
A lady
rp sample:
One two Freddie's coming for you...
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