Character information.
B A S I C S
NAME: Thibaud Orvelle Rosier
BIRTHDAY: June 23, 1926
PB: James Purefoy and Michael Camiloto
JOURNAL: ![[info]](https://www.scribbld.com/img/userinfo.gif) rosier
M I N U T I A E
PERSONALITY: For a man who, early on in his life, was exposed to the thin line between his family and utter extinction (or so his late father said), Thibaud as a child never even expected the extreme measures that Voldemort would ever even dare. He was patient and understanding, one who regarded any and all types of input and opinion without much regard for his own personal bias. A Ravenclaw, he learned to be fully open-minded with the different facts of life. It was a part of this process called learning, a professor once said, to accept things for what they are regardless of your personal want and/or wish for it to be otherwise. (“How else could they have managed to create magic out of a stick, hmm? Magic and sticks! They would have never known lest they accepted the fact that ridiculous things can be truth!”) Or so idealism wished to dictate. Young Thibaud, while still at Hogwarts, believed such things and capitalized on his wide-eyed, sponge-like absorption of various realistic ideas to widen his perspective of the world. He knew he couldn’t simply remain in his corner of reality, stay there, and refuse the curious journeying of his feet. He, too, needed to grow.
And grow he did. The young, then ridiculously French, Thibaud Rosier grew out of his shell and into the world. He had finished Hogwarts by then when his fresh and utterly idealistic views of society were ripened, ironically, to associate the very tenet he lived by. Acceptance. Accept this, accept that. It is the truth! What he once thought was a world of balances, fairness, and justice—an ideal sharpened by both youthful thinking and a sheltered childhood—was, cruelly, none of the above. He learned to accept bent ends, frayed justice, and an almost non-existent brotherhood between fellowmen. Exposed to such a reality, Thibaud’s idealism and existentialist tendencies were rendered malleable; it would be bent, later on, to the wishes of peers, society, and family to create a character hardened by experience yet all the while tenderized by wisdom.
Thibaud became a man of books. He loved to read. Every piece of literature that caught his fancy—which was most, if not all of the books he came across—would be devoured with only the fullest of his attention. He liked fiction, most of all. Muggle and Wizard tales alike, Thibaud revelled in the unnatural, uncanny sensation of being removed from where he sat (with neither magic nor effort!) and into a different weave of reality altogether. From books he gained the knowledge he would learn to use later on in life, the broad concepts different cultures integrated into their social systems, the different types of people he would have the (mis-)fortune of meeting, the insanity, the seclusion, solitude, solidarity. Every and all concepts of the same meaning. But most of all, Thibaud admired the works of scholars and their fearless ventures beyond the structure of education. Considering the wizards’ thousands of years of existence on this world, Thibaud once thought that every law possible had already been passed and the society in which he lived in had already reached its full potential. Naïve, this belief had been warped and altogether discarded when his interest was coerced into siding with the limitless aspect of theory. He was proven wrong by critical minds that came before him: there was actually a world beyond that which they lived in that had yet to be discovered. There were possibilities, innovation, and development that the brilliant minds had been unable to explore. There were tools that had yet to be utilized, a reserve of time and chance yet to be employed to benefit. Thibaud, with innumerable questions and unmistakable doubt in his head, had found his outlet for adventure and since then had been unable to pacify a thirst that only continued to grow over time.
As a young man, after Hogwarts, he became more involved with the opposite sex. Needless to say, it had not been his strength while still at school—he had his marks to maintain, after all. But into the real world, with both a job and a name to work to his advantage, Thibaud had finally opened his eyes to another facet of his person that he had yet to discover. He found that he actually loved women. Loved them. Absolutely loved them. Enlightened by this fact, Thibaud stumbled from one relationship to another—his penchant for romance had been immature, after all. It had yet to develop and had been late in breaking free of his self-imposed discipline. His romantic ventures have all been quite tragic, from one heartbreak to another, from ignorance, to misplaced bliss, to an ugly game of using-and-abusing, to other things beyond which he was aware of. Until, of course, he had been able to meet his future wife.
With her, Thibaud had already learned a lot about what he believed to be one of man’s sadistic games. He loved her, that much was true. His affection for her had been unmistakable, as was his fondness for every quirk that she may have had. He had been generous with his gifts and his time—even sacrificed some of his hours at work only for her. But even then, every romantic tale had a twisted end and for Thibaud, it was the simple fact that he didn’t love her enough. Not as much as one would describe to be “passionate beyond reasonable doubt”. She had been a political necessity, if not a need to be filled since, at that time, the Rosiers were already practically desperate for survival. While he valued her friendship and her trust, Thibaud knew that there will come a time when another woman (or, perhaps, his job itself) would come and he would be trapped in a position of difficulty, when personal desire would war with responsibility. Hoping against hope, Thibaud feared that he would make the wrong choice. But then again, either way, he was already doomed.
Later on, however, this impending possibility had been dampened by the arrival of his son. Evan Rosier, heir to the Rosier line. The only one, Thibaud thought. For that fact alone, he came to treasure his young boy with much affection. He loved him, as well, that much was true. Loved him much more than he ever loved his wife—a truth he never came to admit to anyone but himself. He doted much of his attention to young Evan, provided him with each and every material need imaginable. He may have even gone so far as like every other Quidditch team there was if it meant his son’s happiness—even though he liked Eastern European teams far better than any of the others. He was never upset with him. Disappointed at times, perhaps, but he had been patient. Very patient. Every step he took in understanding him, every preference supported and accepted. Whatever his academic ability reached, Thibaud didn’t truly mind. Though being one of the most revered names in magical study, Thibaud Orvelle Rosier knew within himself that he wouldn’t mind an under-achieving son. However, it was not an unknown fact that he was an enforcer of discipline, as well. He was firm and, at times, bordered strictness. He laid down the rules, the must do’s and can’t do’s; everything he thought a father ought to impose on his son. There were times when he was also reserved, countering children’s bubbling cheerfulness with his silent demeanor. Nod, smile, pat on the back. He had the countenance of a patriarch, impenetrable and always--always--in control. But even then, it was also an unmistakable fact that if there ever was a weakness in Thibaud’s well-constructed surface, it was his son.
MAGIC: Thibaud has always been an expert in theoretical magic. He had been more of a man of shrewd intelligence, philosophy, and, well, "thinking beyond the box" than actual execution of wand-work and others. He was scholarly in that aspect, one who used his knowledge and kept on using it through further education and studies without really making use of much of the ideas he developed. On the other hand, he disliked Herbology with considerable passion. He had neither the patience nor the "compassion" for taking care of plants and other things.
WAND: Alder, 11 inches, phoenix feather core. This particular wand or so Ollivander says is excellent for charm-work and would have chosen Thibaud because of his inclinations in charms more than any other branch of magic. Thibaud believed that Charms was more concerned with conceptual magic, with the different ideas and providing solutions and/or loopholes to such situations, and thus, with his preference for theoretical magic, a wand of a Charms-related forte would have suited him perfectly.
APPEARANCE: From childhood to adulthood, Thibaud had gotten used to the stiffness of refined behaviour. He acted like any gentleman would: back straight, chin up, shoulders square, spine rigid, feet never parting from each other obscenely nor kept within such restricting nearness. He was almost always never loose and for some reason or another, he preferred it that way. He liked being a model of neatness, organized and reserved. His hands were never dirty—literally and metaphorically—his hair was always pristine, white oxfords never quite creasing. He was always clean, an image that went quite well with the immaculate impression an outsider would have to purity.
B A C K G R O U N D
DATES:
JULY 2, 1931: A few days after his fifth birthday when he first showed signs of magical capabilities. He had received many gifts to celebrate the occasion but it was a decorative replica of a rather raucous Bludger that he had been wanting to have since Merlin-knew-when and, well, he didn't get it. Frustrated, he accidentally spelled his cousin's play-Quidditch set to his father's study with a none-too subtle note printed haphazardly on its box's case. Rosier senior, acknowledging the hint for what it is, bought him the play-Bludger the week after.
SEPTEMBER 1, 1937: Another memorable day would be his first day at Hogwarts; he had been sorted into Ravenclaw and as he was unaccustomed to the stereotypes acquainted with each House (as he wasn't familiar with the United Kingdom's Wizarding World all that much) didn't really know what it meant to be under one "name" or otherwise. However, he felt pleased by his mother's reaction to the news so he took it as a good thing that he was sorted into Ravenclaw.
MAY 13, 1954: Yet another important event was his marriage to his wife. Like any bachelor, he had not been too eager about the idea of committing oneself forever to one woman and one woman alone. But even then, Thibaud always wanted to be a family man--much like other men have done, with several children and grandchildren--and as the days passed, his eagerness for the birth of his first child grew considerably.
JANUARY 21, 1958: And so, when his first (and, so far, only) child Evan Rosier came into the world, he had felt an intense amount of both triumph and satisfaction. The former for fulfilling his duty as the patriarch of the steadily receding Rosier name and the latter for, well, filling in the shoes any man ought to eventually: fatherhood. He had been quite excited thinking about the number of children their budding family could have, furthering both name and pride for their pureblood lineage, and, most of all, inheriting (and pursuing, perhaps) their father's legacy.
ALLIANCE: Thibaud never had the will for any type of political game whatsoever. As a child, he had always fashioned himself as the wealthy businessman with dozens of wives, numerous properties across the countryside, and other materialistic possessions he could possibly imagine. Political power, he believed, had not been the ultimate goal of his life. However, as he grew older and beyond his childhood dreams, he realized that politics, in actuality, is the scheme of any ambitious man. Thibaud, though a proud Ravenclaw, certainly has his own ambitions set in life and eventually found himself playing the very same game he once chose not to pursue. Voldemort's causes came into play soon enough. Thibaud had been lured by his promise of control, pureblood power; he had been influenced by their family's need to survive despite their scarcity in number and Voldemort's vision for an empowered pureblood societal faction became too tempting to resist. It was then that Thibaud, a young father yet already a well-placed businessman, chose to ally himself (and the Rosier name) to Voldemort's cause. He hadn't sworn himself into the obligation by becoming a Death Eater but through his active participation in the Knights of Walpurgis, through connections and pureblood friendships he had steadily formed; his acquaintance with the Death Eaters through detached significance was unmistakable.
As for blood purity, it was only his fear for his family that gave him the motivation beneath the dislike. Personally, he neither cared nor actually noticed the steady rise of the non-Purebloods but given that his responsibility also carried the ultimate conclusion of his line, Thibaud hadn’t the liberty to stand by his opinions alone. He became wary of the Muggleborns and Half-bloods (the obvious ones, at least), fearful of their possible dominion over Wizarding society and, eventually, the complete and total end of the Rosiers.
RELATIONSHIPS: His family, first and foremost: his son, his wife, and his sister. Some of the Black family through his sister's marriage into their line. Fellow Ravenclaws and other family patriarchs or heads. |
