dyon rosier

[Dyon Rosier]

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{ A B O U T . Y O U }

Name: kiara
Gender:
Age: nineteen
E-mail: you have it
Twitter: i do not have it
Years of RPG Experience: close to six now
Other:

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{ Q U I C K . Q U I Z }

How did you find us? --
What about ISS inspired you to join? --
Do you have any suggestions for us? --

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{ A B O U T . T H E . C H A R A C T E R }

**As told by Donny and Raiden Rosier.

**Raiden Rosier as played by Skarletta.

Name: “I would bet my entire inheritance that he told you my real name. I’d bet his, too. Our mum came up with some weird stories about how we got our names, used to tell us them at night. Anyway, she has it in her head that she named Dyon and I after these gods – I dunno, I didn’t really pay attention much. As weird as they were, Mum was a shit story-teller. Anyway. Dyon – Die-ahn – his full name is Dionysus.” He pauses, grins, “Which is the god of bullshit, if I remember right.”
Age: “He’ll be 23 in December. He’d never let me live it down if I forgot.”
Gender: “Disgustingly male.”
Year: “He graduated four years ago. Now he just works and takes care of Mum. At least,” he grins again, “That’s what he admits to.”
Face Claim: Tom Hardy

Canon or Original? Canon

Facial Properties:
“Dyon can make fun of me for my avocado masks and French facial crèmes, but the fact of the matter is that he looks like shit while I look like a million fucking galleons. His hard partying caught up with him in the skin department, definitely. Drugs, alcohol, smoke – it’s written in the subtle lines on his face that make him appear older than he is. He gets these gross bags under his eyes – like he doesn’t sleep. He’s also got scars on his face. The one you’ll notice most is right above his left eye, a thin one. A chunk of his eyebrow’s missing, too. Knife accident. It’s more common than you’d think.”

“Dyon’s got light-eyes. They change depending on how he’s feeling – and the only reason I know this is because the one time I pissed him off, I literally saw them get darker. From like – a blue to a gray.” He shrugs. “Kinda trippy.”

“Dyon always gives me such shit – ohh, so you broke my fucking nose, you fucking loser. Because his nose is tiny? No. His nose is not tiny. It’s kind of the opposite. I mean, the only thing bigger on his face than his fucking nose is his mouth. It’s like Dyon has a perpetually fat lip. Like every morning, someone wakes up and just socks him in the mouth. ” He grins, a sinister smile that makes his young face look much, much older, “I’d do it myself, but we fight enough as it is. I don’t need to give the asshole another reason to beat my face in.” He rubs his cheek as if soothing some kind of phantom pain, “And I’m just too handsome to let that happen.”

“Dyon always wears his hair the same way. Short. There was one brief period of time where his hair was longer? Long enough to put in a ponytail. He wore it like that for a bit until he got sick of me getting revenge for all the times he took the piss out of me when I went blonde. Apparently the asshole can make a joke; taking one is a different story.”

Physique:
“Dyon is huge. Always has been the big one in the family. He went through a chubby period when he was little, but as he got older he figured out how to turn it into muscle. You’d never want to fight a Rosier, that much is sort of understood. We’re mean motherf**k*rs. But if there was one Rosier you definitely don’t want to run into in a dark alleyway? It’s Dyon. He’s about six-two, and all muscle.”

He rolls his eyes, “Dyon has a penchant for bad decisions. His body’s now covered in some of his worst decisions. I don’t even know what half of those tattoos mean; I don’t even think Dyon knows what they mean. Half of them were drunk, half of them were high, and half of them were sober.”

“How does Dyon dress—? Like he can’t afford clothes that fit him.” He blinks, “And he can. Afford them, that is.”

Wand Type: 11”, Yew, Dragon Heartstring
Wand Expertise: “We went with him when he went to Ollivander’s – whole family affair bullshit. Always had to have a specta—” he blinks, licks his lips, “er – a show. Anyway. The old man told Dyon it’s a good wand for Defense Against the Dark arts.” He turns to Raiden, “… that’s irony, right?”
“… yes, Donny, that’s irony.”
Patronus: “A snake. Very original.”
Boggart: “Raiden and me. Dead.”

Personality:
“Rosiers. We’re violent by nature. It’s how we were raised. And while I’ve definitely embraced it,” he grins something awful, “Dyon is definitely more…” He searched for a word, looking at Raiden for help before finally settling on, “… quiet about it. He’s not very violent straight-away. If someone pisses him off, he gets quiet. That’s the first sign you’ve done something stupid – ‘cause Dyon isn’t one to be quiet. So, first he gets quiet, and then he’ll walk away. If you want to live to grow old, you stop him before he’s gone. If you don’t stop him, the next time you see him… and if you really pissed him off, you won’t see him… well,” his smile is gleefully sinful, “… good fucking luck.”

“Like I said, Dyon’s got a mouth on him. He has this ability to know what to say when to who to get exactly what he wants. He knows how to seduce, how to charm, how to steal, how to lie, how to take, how to appease – and he does it all with his mouth. He can tell stories better than Mum ever could. He can get you to do things you would never have done before. He’s… convincing.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t think he ever got in trouble as a kid. He was always able to get out of it, the fuck. He’d smile at Mum and tell her she looked pretty, and somehow I’d end up being smacked for breaking the vase. He’s full of excuses. Girls, stupidly, find him charming.” There’s a pause. “Because they’re stupid. I mean, I don’t get it.”

He shakes his head, “Particularly because he’s so arrogant?” He blinks, nods, moves on, “Really full of himself. Thinks he’s God. I blame Mum for the name. He doesn’t admit when he’s wrong. Which, I can admit, isn’t very often. Or maybe I’m just wrong all the time?” He scratches the back of his neck. “But Dyon’s really full of himself. He’s got an ego the size of continental Europe,” he looks proud at the four-syllable word, shooting a look at Raiden. “And he’s… touchy about it. When he goes after someone who has pissed him off, it’s not necessarily because he, um… because they did something, like, ah… sometimes he goes after people just because they may have offended him without meaning to. Like, he – one time he followed someone out into the alley after they drunkenly told him his shirt didn’t match his pants. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but Dyon let it be that way ‘cause it hurt his ego.”

“But, I mean – he’s still the most laid-back one of us. Things don’t usually… offend him right away. He lets things settle first before he makes decisions, and he never does anything when he’s drunk. He can hold his liquor like it’s just water. Someone can insult him, straight to his face, and he’ll just smile. Maybe even laugh. It’s later – after everyone’s gone, and he’s got you alone – that he lashes out. I’ve never seen Dyon angry. And I’m lucky because of that.”

“Dyon doesn’t do relationships. Or, rather, he doesn’t anymore. He used to, but now he just fucks ‘em all and walks away. It’s disgusting, the way he treats women. Uses ‘em, marks ‘em, loses them.” He pulls his arm out, pulling his sleeve up to reveal his wrist. He leans over and takes his index finger from his opposite arm, “He takes a knife. And he carves his initials,” his finger makes a swooping, calligraphic ‘D’ on his wrist, “… that gets him off every time. Disgusting. The way he talks about it? Fuck, I think he loves his knives more than he could ever love a woman. Weird hobbies, he has. Knives, hand-to-hand combat – stupid muggle shit.” He rolls his eyes and makes a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, “I mean, he likes magic. He’s bloody brilliant in a duel, but he prefers to cause pain the way muggles do. Says something about it being harder to trace back to him. But he fucking carves his name into flesh.” He makes a face as if this, alone, should show how stupid Dyon is. “He likes to cause pain. A lot. Gets off on it.” And he looks at Raiden again for the word he can’t come up with on his own.

“Sodomist, Donny. I think that’s the word you’re looking for.” Donny nods and moves on, not really acknowledging the fact that Raiden gave him the word that he was looking for. If he focused on it, it would put him up for further harassment.

“Dyon takes his responsibilities,” he grins at Raiden again, looking smug and holding up one hand and his thumb, signaling that, yes, he is aware that he just used a word with six syllables, “as the ‘man of the house’ really seriously. He’s fiercely over-protective and defensive. He’s the authority in the house now, whether we like it or not. He doesn’t really do anything differently, I don’t think. It’s just – we know that he’s not replacing our dad, right? But he comes as close as he can without overstepping the line. He’d do anything for us. Anything.”




Likes:
+ His brothers. “We’re on top because Dyon makes sure we know that we’re his first priority. He’d kill for us and he’d be killed for us.”
+ Mum. “He takes care of her now. They don’t necessarily get along, but he’d do anything for her, too. Family’s big for Dyon.”
+ Sweets. He makes a face.
+ Knives. “Some people collect Chocolate Frog cards. Dyon has a whole dresser dedicated to all the different kind of knives and weapons he’s collected. He can do all kinds of stuff – carving, whittling… and he does weird things with them, too. I only know what he’s told me, which hasn’t been much. The way he looks when he talks about it, though, is weird enough.”
+ Dark Magic. “… he won’t admit it, but I know there’s reason he’s started to wear long-sleeved shirts.”
+ Drinking, drugs, and hard-partying. “All of my bad memories start with Dyon, a bottle of Firewhiskey, and a couple tightly-rolled joints.”
+ Sex. “And there’s quite a few girls with some interesting scars to prove just how much he likes it.”
+ Working out. “He takes really good care of himself. I think he’s also afraid of his tattoos looking bad if he lets himself go, too.”
+ Spontaneity. His eyebrows furrow and he looks at Raiden. “… you must’ve wrote that one, I don’t have a fucking clue what that means.”
+ Tattoos. “… obviously.” And then he looks at you as if you’re the stupid one.
Dislikes:
–Mudbloods and Muggles. “… unless they’re a good lay. Dyon doesn’t really discriminate who he fucks.”
–Showing off his wealth. “Dyon can afford to live more lavishly than he does. He can afford to dress nicer. He looks homeless and he isn’t. It’s weird. It’s like he doesn’t want people to know he’s rich.”
–Hot-heads. “He’s calm all the time; he’s patient, yeah, but not when someone’s being, ah, ‘insufferable,’” he does the little quotes with his fingers, voice lowering to match Dyon’s drawl. He rolls his eyes.
–Relationships. He rolls his eyes.
–People fucking him over. “He’s not one to believe in second chances.”
–Arrogance. “Dyon thinks he’s the best. He doesn’t do well with people who think that they are the best. It’s… stupid.”
–Vegetables. Donny just shrugs.
–Politics. “He doesn’t talk about it much, but I’ve noticed how he tries to keep out of the family politics – and I mean our extended family… cousins and all that. It’s just better if he stays out of it, he figures, so he does.”
–Red-heads. “It’s a weird preference of his. Or… not a preference. He doesn’t like them, so… it’s a… non… preference.”
–Wearing his reading glasses. “He’s going to kick my ass for even letting you know that he has a pair.”

History:
“I don’t remember much of growing up with Dyon. He was born first, and then came Randall, and by the time I came around, he was already five years old. I remember tagging along to Diagon Alley to get his wand and school supplies. I remember waving good-bye until the train disappeared. I was seven when he left, and I was more excited about getting his room than I was sad that he was gone. I mean, I spent more time with Raiden than I did with Dyon or Randall growing up. He’d send me stuff, though. Letters and candy from Honeyduke’s – which,” he furrows his brows “I don’t understand how he got it, since you can’t get into Hogsmeade until his third year. There are still some interesting memories for when he’d come home on holidays and stuff – stupid shit kids do. We were wrestling on Christmas morning – Mum got Dyon something I really wanted, and I was fighting him for it. That’s when he broke my nose.” He glowers, rubbing his nose somewhat subconsciously. “f**k*r.”

He pauses, scratches the back of his neck, furrowing his brows. It is a look of pure concentration, like it’s taking him a while to think of memories from back then. “It wasn’t bad growing up with him, though. Someone picked on me, Dyon’d take care of them. He taught me how to fight. But as good of a brother he was, he was still a brother. He still made fun of me for being a mama’s boy. And for every person he beat up for fucking with me, he was fucking with me twice as much. About everything. But, like, Dyon wasn’t mean about it. Never mean,” he shrugs. “I was always the affectionate one,” he shoots a glare at Raiden, as if daring him to comment, “But, even if he never said it… I always knew he cared.” He shoves Raiden anyway for good measure.

“Dyon took me under his wing when I finally did come to Hogwarts. Him and Randall both. Not going to lie. They did a lot of work for me – made sure that, y’know, I was taken care of. It was the first time I felt some kind of brotherly connection to them. We were always brothers, but I finally belonged. And Dyon was cool. He knew all these different places to go and stuff – and he introduced me to the interesting parts of life.” The grin on his face almost hurts with its size. “Sex, drugs, and alcohol. Granted, he waited until I was a little older. Thirteen or so.”

He shrugs again, rubbing his face and trying to think of what more he can share, “I’ve never seen Dyon angry or sad or bothered. Even when – Dad and Randall died, he was stoic. Strong. He’s always just been a very powerful – person, in my life. He’s always just been this… rock in the family. I mean, I looked up to him,” He looks at Raiden with a shrug. “But if you tell him that, I’ll come back and strangle you with your own fucking intestines.”

“I don’t think we really spent time together until after they died. Not anyone’s fault or anything, but… there was never a reason to. We were so different. Shit happens. But after Dyon graduated, we started hanging out more. He’d come on weekends and take me and Raiden out drinking. I smoked pot first with Dyon. Dyon was the – the start of most of my firsts. First time I got drunk, first time I smoked pot, first time I tried cocaine – all Dyon. I don’t know when, specifically, things happened for him. Like, I couldn’t tell you when he first got into knives and weaponry. I don’t remember when Dyon first started drinking. Half of his shit, I have no idea how he got. I just know the important stuff. I know that Dyon is there for me when I need him to be, and I know that I’m there for him when he needs me to be there.”

“I don’t know if he got into that Dark Magic stuff. He purposefully doesn’t talk about it around me or Raiden. He wears more long-sleeved shirts, easily. He’s not there every weekend, like he used to be. I mean, we’re Rosiers. It’s expected of us, particularly after – y’know, Randall. And Dyon does what he wants while maintaining what is expected of him.” He looks at Raiden. “Feel free to be impressed.” He shrugs and folds his arms over his chest.

“Anyway, you could ask me to sit here all day and tell you every little stupid thing about Dyon, but I don’t really give a fuck. You wanna know what’s important about Dyon? He’s my brother. Fuck the rest. I need a cigarette.”
Sample Post:
{Please refer to the old, archived posts of Jackie Fontaine, Johnny Myers, Jack Sparrow, et all.}

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{ C O N T R A C T }

I solemnly swear that I, kiara, have read the rules, understand clearly what my responsibilities are now that I am joining ISS, and will abide by these standards set by the staff.

[Lily Evans]

accepted !

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