Ignatius Ramsay Stewart______________________________________________________________________________________
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INTRODUCTION------------------------------------------------------------
FULL NAME: Ignatius Ramsay Stewart
NICKNAMES: Nash
AGE: 23
ALLEGIANCE: Death Eaters
HOGWARTS HOUSE: Slytherin
WAND: Oakwood, Unicorn Heartstring, 11.81 inches, or 30 cm.
PLAY BY: Iwan Rheon
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APPEARANCE
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HAIR COLOUR: Nash's dark brown locks are often trimmed to an appropriately short length, with a set of bangs that reached down his forehead and tickle his brow.
EYE COLOUR: A rather pale shade of blue, reflecting the color of ice.
COMPARATIVE HEIGHT: He is on the shorter side of average, though his shoulders indicate a more muscular man.
GENERAL APPEARANCE:
Nash dresses for the occassion, his generally parted to allow his ears to be broadcasted. At work he is dressed in the black robes of his office, badge properly secured to his black robes. He secures his robes with a silver button, his cufflinks adorned with emerald. Beneath these robes, he wears a very straight-laced and responsibly attired black suit, complete with black slacks. His socks are grey and his shoes are made with the sleekest black leather imaginable.
His social wear, on the other hand, is remarkably variable, his dress shirts ranging from silvery purple to melodious pink. Yes, he can pull of pink. It is actually quite flattering with his ice-blue eyes. His pants are similar in that the colors are more varied, but jeans are reserved for very relaxed environments. He never seems to look like he's in dire need of reinventing himself, often changing things up at a reasonable pace.
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PERSONALITY
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TRAITS:
-= Witty
-= Thoughtful
-= Ambitious
-= Careful
-= Afraid
LIKES:
-= Go-Karting
-= Reading
-= Watching a plan go through
-= A chance to unwind
-= Firewhisky - keeps the metabolism going
DISLIKES:
-= Undeserving praise lavished upon undeserving vermin
-= Slackers
-= Prodigies
-= Wasting his time
-= Questions about his family
GOALS:
-= Nash has only one real goal: Power. Whether it be through heroics, political backstabbing or just plain old homicide, Nash will not allow himself to be swallowed by time and the mortality of man. He refuses to be forgotten.
HABITS & QUIRKS:
BOGGART: The Boggart that would materialize before this young man is the figure of much older one, still dressed as him, still holding his wand in the same determined grip, but his eyes hollow. Devoid of hope, empty of emotion, death creeping in. He will stand frozen, a monument to the reality that faces him- the reality where he goes nowhere, accomplishes nothing, and stays, frozen now and forever in a world where he never became something more.
PATRONUS: There's a fireplace crackling into the night. Embers float in the wake of each lick of the flame. A woman hums a hymn from some strange place he never heard of, but that is fine- it comes from home now. The log cabin he's in is warm, comfortable, and, for once in his life, loving. His mother, his father, and his two little sisters had a lovely moment of peace and quiet, free from the constant battle that was living the impoverished life they generally burned through.
DEMENTOR: The worst memory Nash has is one of his grandfather, a pureblood wizard from what was once a prominent family. It was not because the man meant a lot to him, it was that he and his father were the only ones that attended the funeral. The man was once a god to the boy, towering high above the boy and his father, always ready to teach them a new secret or technique. While growing up, he had shown Nash the greatest wonders a wizard boy could imagine. But now he lay there, dead, with only two people to truly remember him. This is the image that flows through his mind every time he thinks of his own life, the image of that empty funeral, only a body there to prove the man existed.
VERITASERUM: Nash's greatest secret is that he really does care about certain people in his life. He distances himself from his family back home, preferring to stay aloof and live free of the constraints that comes with the whole concept. But the moment its brought up, that entire facade falls apart. He is a wizard from an impoverished home, whose grandfather had disgraced their family with a dangerous gamble. The family he grew up with was forced to wear the stigma of their progenitor like a black mark. Nash chooses to rid himself of this weight by closing himself off.
MIRROR OF ERISED: If Nash were stand before the Mirror of Erised, he would see himself, standing tall and proud, a book in his hands. The subject changes as his interests do, but the meaning is the same nonetheless- scrolled along those pages, next to the names of scholars, monsters and kings, is his. A mark on history, his name alighting the lips of the billions that will one day follow his path.They would all remember him, for he made a mark upon the world. One nobody would ever forget.
PERSONALITY: Nash is a create of the social night. He makes his nest in bars, finding new people, and recalling old names. If he has a drink in his hand, you know you are in for a good time. His job and ambitions leave him with large amounts of stress, and while he does not hate serving the public, he has a certain distaste for the violence it involves. It does not prevent him from taking action, but he leaves the wand to be his last resort. He can best be described as a social serpent- he can worm his way into anyone's heart as long as they leave themselves with weak points. If most of his acquaintances knew of his desires, perhaps they would aid him. But for the most part, he does whatever he can to separate work and play.
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FAMILY & POSSESSIONS
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FATHER: Sebastian Ramsay
MOTHER: MaryAnne Stewart
SIBLING/S:
OTHER: other significant family or family-like people
BLOOD STATUS: Half-Blood
SOCIAL STATUS: Nash lives in the lower end of a middle class neighborhood, his paycheck
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CHARACTER HISTORY
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Early Years: Ignatius was not supposed to be born, per se. In fact, his father denied his existence for the first three years, before finally throwing caution to the wind and pursuing his true interests. He was born to Marianne Stewart, a widower that had grown a tad bit too close to Sebastian during his time away from the family. When his father decided that it was better to accept her and her son as his responsibility, Ignatious had already grown to ignore the seedy relationships between his mother and the man. It was, at first, very hard for him to live with Ramsay. He was never quite welcome in the family, his cousins often teasing him and calling him odd names, like "Mudblood." This was, of course, almost completely unfounded. Stewart actually came from a mottled line of wizards and wizards, but the facts are generally muddled by numerous, and very unreliable, sources. Whose could really vouch for the purity of his blood?
Iggy, as he was known to his playmates and cousins, was the social sort, though this was often shafted aside by his family's distaste for his conception. The only person that ever warmed up to his consistent presence was his grandfather, a rather unnoticeable figure in magical history named Walter Ramsay. In certain revisions of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find3, perhaps you could find his name in a footnote regarding the research of Dementors and Demiguise. He was an explorer, an adventurer that, in his youth, had come upon hard times and was often used for his bravery more than his brains. Having grown old and weary, his words reached out desperately for open ears, and there lay in Ignatius the perfectly receptive child. Iggy and his Grandfather met rarely, but the times they had met, he walked away with a growing fascination. Every time he has looked in a copy of Fantastic Beasts in the days that followed, he would flip to the pages that made passing mention of his progenitor, wondering if his name could be penned into those pages.
Hogwarts Years: Iggy's mettle was at first tested by his schoolmates. They seemed keen to mock his "pure-blood" roots as diseased. He would have perhaps ducked this erroneous nitpecking, had he not been sorted into Slytherin, the house of the proud. Ignatious had no family to be proud of, only the fervent desire to create one. While this at first put him at odds with the rest of his classmates, they soon found their common ground through competition. It was not much to base a relationship upon, perhaps, but Iggy, finally given the proper nickname of Nash, began to form relationships across the houses in the spirit of friendly competition.
Now, note the word "friendly," as here comes the rub- Nash was too naturally nice to be a proper competitor. He always considered his opponent's reactions to each of his actions, and always sought a way that allowed him to succeed while limiting the hurt his victory would cause. This "splash damage" methodology may have lasted him in Hogwarts, but as the years wore on, it began to rub further and further against the grain- it was no matter about becoming friends with those around you, it was about the madness that was life. The constant battle to the top of the hill, the desperate struggled up each rung of the ladder. His natural social proclivities made him at once weak, and stronger for it. On one hand, his grades could not match the O's and E's of those around him, but they allowed him to maintain the relationships he had built through the years.
He had a rather unremarkable seventh year, leading him into...
...Adulthood: Nash has never been one to simply "grow up." His immaturity, and relationships, had landed him a rather unremarkable position in a ministry task force dedicated to "keeping the peace." He was almost immediately invited to join the growing Death Eater army, an offer he took rather quickly, doing whatever it took to raise through the ranks. You see, Nash had learned something while still young and innocent- in the real world, nobody is on a level playing field. He did not need to be indoctrinated to their service to realize just how easy it would be for someone as sociable, affable, and ambitious as Nash, to climb through the ranks and make a name doing so.
His first task, which proved to be quite... approachable, had been to fall in with Elizabeth Lucille Norton, a member of the American Ministry. He happily accepted this role, diving right into it without a second thought. He disconnected from his home, his family and moved to America, taking up a minor job with the American National Quidditch Association while worming his way into his new relationships. Nash felt the most relaxed when he no longer had to pretend that he was an ambitious, ruthless killer, and around Elsie, he opened up as far as he could. She reciprocated, and in term, they became more than just friends. He formed a rather strong fondness for Elsie, perhaps even growing a tad bit too attached. When her true loyalties were determined however, he and his co-conspirators struck. While Elsie escaped, he was rewarded quite well for his service, despite his... misgivings with the ordeal.
In addition to this hefty award, Nash earned his current position, an Enforcer of Magical Law in the British Ministry, where he serves the agenda of both the Ministry, and the Death Eaters, constantly looking for his chance to ascend the ladder and secure his true place at the top.
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BEHIND THE CHARACTER
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ALSO KNOWN AS: James Wake
RP EXPERIENCE: ... A few years.
HOW YOU FOUND US: Don't ask me this question. I don't even remember why I came back (JACK).
MAIN CHARACTER: James Wake
PURPOSE OF CHARACTER: The site needed someone ambitious to account for the missing love of ELSIE'S life (JACK).
RP SAMPLE: - Spoiler:
Totes skipping this.
- Spoiler:
Just messing with ya.
- Spoiler:
Ignatius stared at the Death Eater, quivering with a rage he could not quite properly represent without insulting the venerable Head of the New York Dark Arts Anonymous. "Could you... repeat that? Sir?" he asked in very deliberate tones. The man in front of him leaned back in his chair, nursing a little gin in his faceted glass. Nash was not one to beleaguer details, but the man's words DEMANDED a proper explanation. His report sat upon the Eater's desk. He had never actually been in the room, now that he had a chance to consider the implications. The room was rather ornate, hard wood floors almost unmarred by the scratching of chairs and possible murders that now echoed through the hallowed room.
"According to Graham, the girl has outlived her usefulness," Wolfram explained as he cradled the bounty in his hand. He seemed just a tad bit more eager than Ignatius to pursue this course of action. "Are you certain that she could not be persuaded?"
Ignatius wanted to say yes. He wanted to say that he could convince her that his side was the destined victor. Who cared what was right, what was wrong? This was about surviving in this world, one that did not virtue truth and honesty. But he knew better. Elsie... Elsie was not going to be swayed to the Death Eaters. Her experiences in Durmstrang, everything involving Claire...
"I cannot guarantee it... sir..." Ignatius' head dropped a little in quiet, shameful acceptance. The man chewed his lower lip a moment, before handing back the page. Nash took it, looking between it and his unofficial employer as they sat there a moment. As the silence grew thick, the older man stood up, and strode to his drink cabinet. He returned, a glass of gin cradled between his sausage-like fingers. He placed it by Ignatius right hand, setting himself upon the corner of the table, his eyes fixated upon the boy in front of him.
"Now, son, I'm not going to lie and tell you that this choice is easy. If you choose not follow through on your... suggestion, I won't begrudge you for it," the Head said, his "homegrown accent" sinking in. Ignatius had heard this tone many times before, but in person... it was quite different. Perhaps this was a softer tone, one that he adopted for private matters.
Perhaps this was his snake voice. Ignatius slowly drew in his glass... and took a small sip. The man continued to speak as Nash stared at the chair in front of him. Was the wooden varnished every year? Such a fine shine could not naturally occur, could it? The cushioning of the seat seemed blush, its emerald green veneer sinking into the maroon wood that it lined. Golden Snakes traced the back, sliding and leaving their serpentile trails etched into the wooden frame.
"I'll do it sir. Don't worry about that." He passively wondered what more it would take to earn a chair like that.
Nash had said it. Nash had committed to the words. But the moment he watch Elsie Norton, the object of his affections for nearly a year, fade away, Apparating away from him, and far from all this... a part of him regretted.
by Nash Stewart Tue Jun 24, 2014 8:47 pm
