#21
Name: Evan Gabriel Rosier.
Birthdate: July 29th, 1960.
House: Slytherin; seventh-year Slytherin prefect, if possible.
Residence: (Where your character lives outside of school) Three things make a Rosier: (1) a ridiculous sense of one's own importance; (2) faith in the Catholic God and a subsequent appreciation for the works of Evelyn Waugh; and (3) the archetypal English country house. The
Rosier home lies in in Oxfordshire, and it's the kind of place the National Trust salivates over and brings lines from
Brideshead Revisited to the tips of visitors' tongues. (Yes, there is a chapel.) In truth, it
is an impressive estate, although there is some decay around the edges; still, it's a grand, imposing fortress of a home, a fitting symbol of the Rosiers' legacy and permanence in society. (No, there aren't any phallic symbols about; why do you ask?) Evan, for his part, finds the whole thing rather archaic and dull, although that hasn't kept him from enjoying the shocked looks on classmates' faces when he invites them over, nevermind the ability to hide from his parents in the labyrinthine system of rooms.
Classes: OWLs: Arithmancy [O], Ancient Runes [O], Astronomy [E], Charms [O], Defence Against the Dark Arts [O], Herbology [A], History of Magic [O], Potions [O], Transfiguration [O].
NEWTs: Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Transfiguration.
Appearance:Petulant might be a good summation of Evan Rosier's looks, as despite leaving puberty a few years ago, he still has a tendency to pout childishly when denied his way, which is to say
most of the time. Despite being not entirely bad looking, Evan's prone to rather ugly expressions --- the cool indifference and arrogance that so rarely leaves his face, the way he has of setting his jaw when serious --- which is what makes his ploys at sincerity (and the rare moments in which he's able to arrange his features into some facsimile of such) so surprising. (That, and the fact that when he tries for such a look, he manages to appear rather
Bambish, suddenly the image of a twelve-year-old again.) Still, there's hope he'll grow into his face: his features are
interesting, if nothing else --- a long face without particularly harsh angles; a small, full mouth; large, deep-set eyes of a rather vivid shade of blue; and a nose that can only be called unfortunate. His dark hair is typically worn long in the front, spilling over an expansive brow and nearly dipping into his eyes, and it tends to seem unkempt, if not, at times, greasy.
At seventeen, Evan's finally achieved something in the way of height --- his first growth spurt the summer before third year left at a comparatively paltry 5'8", but, slowly and steadily, he's finally added another three inches to his height, leaving him at just over six feet tall. Not that height has made him a frightening figure: Evan is what would charitably be called
lanky and what's in truth just
skinny; he has long, thin limbs that recall nothing so much as a spider, the only saving grace being Evan's preternatural grace --- what he lacks in bulk, he makes up for in elegance, and some very well-cut clothes. That being said, were he to skip a daily bath and turn up on the streets in an old shirt, some ill-fitting trousers, and scuffed trainers, he'd look every bit the
geek; there but for the grace of Madam Malkin and years of lessons from his parents goes Evan.
History:Once, a long time ago, the Rosiers were a family of upper-class French wizards --- the kind of family the produced members of the International Confederation of Wizards, an occasional Minister for Magic, and one of the least popular Beauxbatons headmistresses. They were also of relatively poor blood quality, with a Muggle corps as prosperous as the wizarding, much to their considerable displeasure. After several centuries of languishing at the bottom of the league tables for Pureblood nobility, one of the more industrious branches of the family pulled up stakes and moved to England, figuring that a reinvention was necessary. For the most part, the gamble worked: the Rosiers in England quickly established themselves as an integral part of Pureblood society, happily hexing over their history and pruning the family tree into something that resembled the ideal. Within a few generations of arriving in England, they were considered to be as Pureblooded as the next major family, and there's not been a complaint since. Money, certainly, has gone a long way toward improving the Rosiers' legacy: whom they couldn't make disappear, lie or explain away, or simply eliminate, the Rosiers were happy to bribe out of the family. This is, perhaps, why the first Rosier to attend Hogwarts was sorted into Slytherin, along with almost every other: it's in the blood, although not its purity.
Thanks to all of this history, then, by the time Josiah Rosier came of age, he was firmly entrenched in wizarding society. With good standing and enough of the family legacy in the bank to ensure a comfortable lifestyle, he set about making a good public reputation for himself through an old Rosier trick --- public service. He quickly entered the wizarding diplomatic corps upon leaving Hogwarts, joining the Department of International Magical Cooperation, serving as an aide to a member of the International Confederation of Wizards before becoming an aide to the British wizarding ambassador in Germany. It was through this post that he met his wife: Sophie Fenner, a talented English witch of German ancestry (and a considerable amount of pride in such). The two were married within a year of meeting --- about the time it took Josiah to move from "vaguely competent" in German to the level of "hey, I know what you're saying about me" --- and quickly established residence in Berlin. When the then-ambassador to Germany was recalled to Britain and promoted to aide to the Minister two years later, Josiah took his place; a short time after, Evan was born.
Even, then, grew up in a politically active household, and in a household more than certain of its importance in the world. In that sense, then, it was certainly an
interesting childhood, and given his father's position and the amount of travel it entailed, Evan was possibly the one student in his year to find Hogwarts a bit of a letdown ("meh" was his assessment;
I've seen more interesting castles). That being said, it wasn't nearly as interesting a childhood as he'd like others to believe --- his father may be important politically, but Evan-the-toddler was far from it, and he spent the majority of his childhood being minded by wizarding tutors while his mother organised social events and his father, well, worked. About the only practical advantage from his childhood was a head-start in terms of languages: Evan picked up German early, becoming effectively bilingual by necessity and convention, while his parents also had him study French, apparently under the impression that he should prepare for Hogwarts the same as he would for Eton.
At the age of eight, the family returned to England, Josiah now a delegate to the International Confederation of Wizards; Sophie and Evan mostly remained in Oxfordshire, where Sophie went back to the business of keeping the Rosier name linked to charitable acts, while Josiah worked from the Ministry, occasionally allowing Evan to come along for Confederation conferences, summits, etc. By the time Evan started Hogwarts, then, he had been spoiled rotten, was almost entirely unused to the company of other human beings his age, and a first-class prat. He, of course, was blissfully unaware of this, and felt he had a happy, normal childhood --- he was more or less given anything he wanted (within reason), he always had access to tutors and books to satiate any passing academic curiosity, he was a confirmed wizard by the age of six and great things were predicted for him (granted, those things were predicted by his mother, who had barely managed an 'Acceptable' in Divination), and nothing traumatic had ever happened to him. Hogwarts was just the next step in --- well, whatever it was he was supposed to do until he people appointed him King of the World.
To no one's surprise, then, he was sorted into Slytherin immediately. To everyone's surprise, however, Hogwarts agreed with Evan: it took him time to figure out how to relate to people his age, but he eventually made something like a friend in Jeremiah Wilkes. Classes were always relatively easy, given his pre-Hogwarts schooling and his parents' willingness to hire tutors during the summer to expand his education; in consequence, he never had much to fear academically, and quickly established a reputation as a 'keener.' Given his feelings toward broomsticks (
get that thing away from me before I cram it up your---), he was never going to be the more athletic type; he escaped lightly, all things considered. Indeed, his tenure at Hogwarts can mostly be characterised by a studious refusal to draw much attention to himself, as, for the most part, Evan's slid by as
that kid who takes ridiculous notes. He was appointed a Prefect in his fifth year, partly as he was the least of only bad options and partly because, well, he'd kind of earned it. In his style, Evan was delighted by the news --- there's nothing he likes more than being better than someone else, after all --- and the chance to abuse his power; he hasn't gone overboard as of yet, but with war on the horizon and allegiances being declared, who knows what will happen next.
Personality: Evan Rosier would like to be an enigma wrapped in a mystery, but the blunt truth is that he's simply an asshole wrapped in some decent manners. Make no mistake: he
is an asshole, and, yes, he
knows it. Behind closed doors, he is petulant, sulky, whiny, more than a bit bratty, and hilariously immature; it's possible he's uninvited Jeremiah Wilkes from his birthday party and meant it as a serious threat. When he drops the act and all his graces, Evan's the archetypal only child/spoiled brat, unkind even to those whom he calls friends ---
This is the last time I let you plan anything, God, you're stupid is not an uncommon refrain when things go wrong. (That this is delivered in a whine that would make a five-year-old blush does not help.) That being said, the childishness is more harmless white noise than anything else: Evan likes to talk, and Evan likes the sound of his own voice, and, as such, he sees nothing wrong with having a good moan when those around him fail to live up to his (ridiculously high) expectations. When this vitriol is turned on the world, certain other students (James Potter, Sirius Black), politicians, historical figures, or just passing clouds, he's almost amusing, at least to those of a similarly pessimistic, nihilistic, narcissistic mindset.
Evan, at any rate, certainly has that mindset, along with delusions of grandeur that deserve to be studied and put as a case study in a psychology textbook. He is, for better or for worse, not
entirely stupid, but, more than that, he's also
interested in certain subjects, not so much for marks but for his personal edification. That these subjects are all clustered around military theory, history, and political theory is the troubling part as well as rather telling --- Evan wants to rule the world, and, failing that, to leave his mark on it. Consequently, he plays up his academic success and reputation, and has made a small name for himself at Hogwarts by being 'bright': besides being a good reputation to hold, it gives him a chance to lord his power over others. (Sure, he'll help you revise, but not for your sake: he likes the fact that people come to
him for help; it's a small high.) It's also his best chance at gaining power and fame: Evan knows he has no hope of becoming a wizarding superhero like Alastor Moody, but he can plan the strategies to take someone like that down --- and, hey,
that ought to make him a legend.
Surprisingly, for all of this, Evan is usually capable of making a
decent first (and even second) impression. Indeed, the face Evan presents to the world is often at odds with the bratty, spoiled child demanding power; Even has a fair amount of impulse control, care of his upbringing, and he knows enough to keep his mouth shut, smile politely, nod, and inquire after the health of those he cares nothing about --- as much as he can, he tends to try to present himself as polite, studious, and almost
quiet; he tends to spend his weekends in the library, revising and writing, although not for the courses he's enrolled in. The streams of insults can be saved for the few he trusts enough not to share, or those so equally depraved that he has equally damaging
kompromat on them. As such, he's
the model of a charmless man: he does well socially, chalking up some of his reticence to
shyness instead of the real reason (i.e.,
I can't think of an insult stupid enough for you); only those who've actually heard Evan talk about others and himself would realise that, at heart, he's soulless (despite the years of weekly mass and feigned faith), an intellect without a conscience, and a young man absolutely intent on gaining power by whatever means necessary. What's scary is that so far he's been fairly successful: a member of the Slug Club, a Hogwarts Prefect, and his pick of careers after Hogwarts --- it's impossible to estimate the amount of damage he could cause.
(Good thing he dies young, then.)
RP Entry: (Third person)
It was a Saturday night at Hogwarts, and as there had been a Quidditch game that afternoon (someone won, someone lost, someone went to the hospital clutching his nose --- that was about as much as Evan knew and cared to know), the library was deserted. Most of the good little boys and girls were safely in their common rooms, celebrating victory or mourning loss, and Evan could only assume the Slytherins were doing the same. He'd left the sixth-year Prefects in charge, claiming that he was going to patrol dangerous areas, and as he hadn't heard any ominous noises, he hadn't felt any need to go back and check to see whether or not Wilkes had finally taken revenge on Snape for his deprecating remarks about Quidditch.
Indeed, Evan wasn't even thinking about his housemates; instead, he was toying with several documents absolutely unrelated to his classes, including a German account of the bombing of Hamburg he'd requested his father send him. He had the same look he always had while translating: vaguely dazed, mouth open a bit and bottom lip thrust out in a babyish pout, one hand cupping his chin as the other scratched a quill against parchment.
Lost in his own world, Evan had every intention of leaving his housemates to cannibalize each other and of returning in the morning to deal with the carnage, which was why, even as the clock warned the hour, he made no move to pack up his things.
