lamont runesby ⊹ second year ⊹ ravenclaw

[font=times new roman]...... PERSONALITY ......[/font]

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[font=times new roman]Born amidst the magical and mundane, Lamont finds himself an outsider in both worlds, floating along in a purgatory of sorts. In an effort to find a place of belonging, he twists his behavior to compliment his surroundings. To the pureblooded folk, he is a mannered young man with a disregard for anything unruly. On the other side of the same coin, he's not afraid to let his willful ways lead him to trouble while romping around with his muggle peers. In a way, this subsequently led to an identity crisis fueled by his ever-changing world that refuses to let him get a solid grip on reality. Although his emotions are rarely hidden, rather bubbling up in laughter or seething in anger, Lamont is hardly an open book to be read and tossed to the side. Those that peer past the cover find themselves drawn into a friendship with the boy, usually one that lasts a lifetime. It is said that everyone has their demons, and unfortunately, Lamont's unstable footing in life has allowed the door to swing wide open to invite them in. Like a force of nature, Lamont tends to leave a wake of disorder in his path when the hurricane of emotions bound inside him finally breaks free. To say Lamont steps on toes is an understatement, rather stomp is the better word when he tromps around with reckless abandon. That isn't to say he doesn't sweep the debris up behind him, usually blubbering an apology or burning at the cheeks. The weight of the world can make the boy feel claustrophobic and like a trapped animal, cower in the corner until the invisible danger he concocted in his mind has passed.[/font]

[font=times new roman]FLOO POWDER[/font]

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[font=times new roman]✧ i. index
✧ ii. essence
✧ iii. history
✧ iv. chronicles
✧ v. misc.
✧ vi. trunk
✧ vii. artwork
✧ viii. ooc info
✧ ix. inpc[/font]

[font=times new roman]MIRROR REFLECTION[/font]

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[font=times new roman]Lamont is no stranger to second looks and doe-eyed stares. A lingering observation would find a perpetual smile curling his rosy lips. For the most part, his skin is dark olive in tone with a splash of russet freckles localised on the bridge of his nose, still round in boyish youthfulness and slightly upturned. His prominent brows carry with them a range of expressions, from scowl to surprise. The left side of his face is dappled porcelain, stretching from the roots of his hair to the corner of his upper lip. In the wake of the pale mark, his long, stark white eyelashes border a singular arctic blue iris, a worlds difference from its neighbor to the right which possesses the endless depths of burnt umber. Every hair in the path of the mark is devoid of the familiar dark walnut colour found atop his head and right eyebrow, instead presenting as near translucent. A white forelock finds itself among the tussles of curls, though Lamont takes great care in tucking it out of sight. Soft in features but certainly not plump, Lamont could be considered a lean boy, surprising for the many instances he has smuggled sweets in his pockets while under the watch of an unsuspecting eye.[/font]

[font=times new roman]name
lamont raoul
runesby
nickname
monty, lamby
[by aspen] & rao
age
twelve
birthday
20 nov 2008
species
human[/font]

[font=times new roman]blood purity
half-blood
house
ravenclaw
year
second
wand
26,9 cm cherry wood
and rougarou hair
patronus
undiscovered
[fifth year][/font]

[font=times new roman]. BEFORE HOGWARTS .[/font]

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[font=times new roman]When it was revealed that the eldest son of the pureblooded Runesby family had fathered a child with a woman without the family's blessing, especially one with muggle heritage, the trio fled for fear of a blow of wrath that would separate them forever. Under the cover of darkness, Hadrian Runesby and his wife, Ambrosine Mifsud, dared not to look back at the marbled halls of Runesby manor in fear of falling into the vengeful clutches of its owner. To a small Scottish village they fled, taking only the clothes they wore on their backs and whatever small necessities they could carry in their arms while also coddling a baby to stifle its cries. As the years passed, the little family began to rebuild what they lost, disconnected from the world of magic where danger lurked with every spell cast. The infant that had been swaddled close to his mother's chest had grown into a young boy, now standing on his feet, albeit a tad wobbly. His father, having a knack for potions, became the village doctor, affectionately known to many as Doc. His mother found her happiness amongst the fields of flowers she had grown from seedlings, providing the village with gorgeous bouquets from the smallest to grandest of events. And so Lamont was raised in a mundane home where any whisper of magic was quickly hushed, especially around the impressionable boy's ears. Instead of learning of the potions his father had brewed, Lamont was rather introduced to the wonders of cooking, something he quickly excelled at. Spells were not spoken in front of Lamont, instead the boy grew up hearing English and French, the latter a reminiscent of his mother's homeland, Tunisia. The family lived in relative peace until an accidental magic outburst by Lamont triggered a series of events that would tear apart their paradise. While Hadrian had escaped with his family all those years ago, he could not hide forever from his father’s reach. In the midst of packing up his family for a second, hopefully last, time, there came a knock at the door. The elderly man on the other side of the doorway was no patient, but had the look of suffering in his eyes. Despite his best attempts to hide from his father’s wrath, Hadrian and his family found themselves staring wide-eyed like prey cornered by a predator. What they did not expect was the man, now known as the Runesby patriarch, to fall on his hobbled knees and beg for his eldest son to return. In the years Lamont’s father had been absent from family matters without so much as a letter sent back home, much had transpired that was revealed when the patriarch brought himself to his feet again. Lamont’s grandfather explained years of guilt and grief, as well as the looming question of his estate will when the man’s fragility was mentioned. According to his father, Hadrian had been removed from the will at one point from a misplaced anger, which meant Hadrian’s younger brother, Evander was the next to inherit the massive family fortune, as their mother had long since been deceased and there were no other children besides the two brothers. Unfortunately, Evander was content to waste the fortune like a leaky faucet, already throwing funds towards extravagant parties and luxuries that would soon run the centuries-old family into the ground from his greed. The patriarch had stewed in his guilt and anger long enough, and seeing how respectable Hadrian was in the village, pleaded for his eldest son to preserve the family’s name and bring dignity to it once again. Hadrian protested at first, reluctant to leave the oasis and be plunged into a world that chased him away. His arm was twisted when Lamont’s grandfather brought up the boy’s magical capability, mistakenly mentioned by Hadrian earlier in the conversation. One way or another, Hadrian could not hide Lamont from the magical world. Hadrian agreed to return to the family, under the condition that his wife and son would join him. After a wee bit of squabbling, the two men agreed on the terms of Hadrian’s return. A rather awkward teatime, Lamont’s grandfather bid the family farewell and returned to the manor to prepare for the family’s arrival. A month passed by without further commotion as the estranged Runesbys prepared to uproot their quiet lives and return to the marbled halls of the manor. Unfortunately, Evander did not take the news of having his brother watch over the family’s finances when he believed himself to be the rightful heir. The rift between the brothers grew, effectively dashing any hopes of extending a bridge of friendship between the two. The fracture was exacerbated by the death of their father, who left the fate of the family to the brothers. Evander was not content to sit back and watch his brother enjoy the fortune that, in his mind, was stolen from his grasp due to their father’s frail mind that was manipulated by Hadrian. A plan was concocted in the dark recesses or Evander’s mind to snatch the fortune for himself. On the night Hadrian and his family were prepared to leave their cottage behind and move into the manor, Evander paid the family a visit that would ultimately cost the lives of Hadrian and his wife. The confrontation did not start out sinister, mostly slinging of blame and insults that hurled from one end of the room to the other. It was Evander who drew his wand first, unleashing a barrage of spells that were countered by Hadrian, who had scarce use for his wand in the muggle realm but still kept it with him, though the eldest brother felt his control slipping. There was no mercy to be found in Evander’s shallow blue eyes as they bore into the soft doe-like brown eyes of his brother as Evander cast a final spell that trapped Hadrian and his wife in a corner as the flames lapped at their feet. Evander’s constant attacks proved too much for Hadrian’s wand, which began to splinter after every counterspell. His final spell was cast to protect Lamont, who was safely guarded in his room, oblivious to the danger that lurked on the other side of the door. His father's sacrifice allowed the boy to escape out the window, heeding his father's final words to climb down the small tree that leaned against the side of the house. While the rain made the tree's bark slick, Lamont had no trouble scaling down the familiar boroughs that he spent hours in, often reading or escaping his room to find trouble when it did not readily come to him. It was Evander’s belief that the entire family had perished in the fire caused by his greed, until he discovered Lamont, who was a soot-covered and huddled up into a quivering ball on the grass that had been previously lush and green. Before Evander could finish his wicked plan, the sound of approaching sirens made the sinister man stop in his tracks. To throw salt on the wounds he left, Evander comforted the broken boy, acting as if he shed more tears than blood just a few moments ago. Lamont would not suspect the uncle, who cradled him in his arms, of being capable of the horrors he witnessed inside. It was chalked up to a mistake, and so Lamont accepted it as such, too scarred to revisit the memory whose details were clouded with trauma that manifested as pyrophobia. Although Evander had not succeeded in claiming the entire fortune for himself, the boy who was set to inherit it could be manipulated to his will. At the age of eight, all that Lamont knew went up in smoke, leaving only ashes of the home that despite all the love and care put into it, was no match for a hungry flame. The gap left by his parents untimely death was quickly filled by Evander, who welcomed the boy with open arms and crocodile tears. While there was still a living heir between him and the family's fortune, Evander could not expose his greed without harboring suspicion. And so the orphaned Lamont found his soot-stained clothes switched out for fine silk and far more expensive than what he saw in the windows of the village boutiques. Lamont took to luxury like water to a dry sponge, but what fascinated him most was the world of magic that had been hidden from him. Unlike his parents who had been tightlipped about magic since his first accidental use of it, Evander hid nothing from the boy, allowing Lamont to indulge in the wonders it brought. Upon reaching his eleventh birthday, his curiosity for the magical realm could finally be explored outside of the manor's walls as his acceptance into Hogwarts allowed him a freedom from his uncle's iron grip.[/font]

[font=times new roman]FLOO POWDER[/font]

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[font=times new roman]✧ i. index
✧ ii. essence
✧ iii. history
✧ iv. chronicles
✧ v. misc.
✧ vi. trunk
✧ vii. artwork
✧ viii. ooc info
✧ ix. inpc[/font]

[font=times new roman].. MAGICAL BEGINNINGS.. [/font]

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[font=times new roman]Lamont's first taste of magic was rather...explosive, to say the least. After being cooped up in the house for most of the harsh winter, spring had finally melted the snow preventing the boy from splashing in puddles and tracking mud throughout the house. Unfortunately, it also happened to be one of the busiest days of the year for his mother who was planning the Spring Festival. Despite his constant tugging at the hem of her dress to let him wander outside alone, his hand was batted away and was answered with the same gentle refusal. Each time, the boy grew more and more frustrated. He decided to take matters into his own hands and sneak outside, his yellow rubber boots stomping in every puddle he happened across. It didn't take long for his mother to realise Lamont had escaped and in the middle of him splashing water over the tops of his boots, decided to give him a stern lecture. As she began to pull the boy away from his fun, Lamont dug in his heels and refused to budge. That's when his mother decided to swoop the boy in her arms, grunting as she realised he was now a boy of seven and no longer the weight of a toddler. In an act of rebellion, Lamont threw a fit, only stopping between his yelling when the tulip bouquet in his mother's arm caught fire as easy as a match. The look of shock on his mother's face made him worry that he had accidentally singed her in the process of his tantrum. He couldn't help but for the tears to well up in his eyes when she took his hand without another word and nearly ran towards their cottage. There was no words to be spoken between mother and son as they sat in dreaded silence until his father's heavy footsteps could be heard on the cobblestone as he came home from the apothecary. While his parents argued in the other room, Lamont sat in the corner of the living room, his knees hugged close to his chest as if making himself smaller would allow him to disappear all together. The look on his father's face, mistaking the man's worry for his son as disappointment or worse yet, hatred, made his little smile fall. It would not return for some time, and when it did, it was broken as if the boy let it fall to the ground. From this moment on, Lamont's life was a whirlwind of change. For better or for worse, the latter seeming more accurate.[/font]