Post by aub on Dec 19, 2011 0:37:17 GMT
Harrison James Banner
Nice work you did, You're gonna go far- kid
with a thousand lies and a good disguise
[/center]age;; Twenty three
gender;; Male
band you are affiliated with;; Injected Hopeless
position in band;; Lead Guitarist
sexuality;; Bisexual
play-by;; Tom Sturridge
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Harrison has always felt the desire to be in control, to have power over people and exert a level of superiority if possible, although always so subtly done. He thinks each move out and carefully adapts his behaviour to suit a person, which is why when he first meets someone he’s very likely to come across as either shy or stuck up, because he’s more likely to observe as he susses a person out and not engage in the conversation, unless it is to skilfully interrogate them.
Harrison doesn’t like to let people in, he tries his hardest to keep people at arm’s length and so can often come across as cold. He’s charming however, and so if he wants to manipulate a person, he will allow emotions to play a part in that, though they will probably be fake, or at least not truthful. There’s only a few people who get to see the real him, and they are as follows; Della, his ex girlfriend, who finds it impossible to stay guarded to, and his band mates who see more of him than the average person does. They probably understand him better than most people, although Harrison’s rather secretive and doesn’t divulge much information about his past. He doesn’t like people to know that he’s responsible for the death of his daughter, and is actually terrified of the press or their fans finding out that he is, or that he even had a daughter, because he doesn’t want his band mates to know. It’s too difficult for him to think of her, to remember that night, although it does haunt his dreams in lucid flashbacks. Harrison is certainly affectionate of his band mates though, whether or not it is because he wants to sleep with them, nobody quite knows, but he certainly feels a good deal safer around them.
Harrison is a passionate performer, perhaps he’s the most honest when he’s on stage. Something real happens then, music has become his outlet. He does go a little bit wild when he’s on stage, which is certainly different from his usual reserved self. At parties, he’d been known to relax a little bit but alcohol is definitely something that’s banned.
likes;;
+ Controlling people
+ Intelligence
+ Power
+ Sex
dislikes;;
+ Alcohol, as he loses his inhibitions and he likes each move he makes to be calculated; especially since the death of his daughter due to alcohol
+ Fangirls, except for the power he can exert over them
+ His father
+ Cars
quirks and habits;;
When Harrison loses patience with people, especially fans, he has a habit of brushing his fore finger off the edge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself down. This has been a habit that he’s done as a child, it helps him with his anger although why he doesn’t actually know.
Harrison’s second habit is perhaps a little bit more sinister. At each show his band perform at, he finds the most vulnerable, innocent girl he can, and seduces her. Why does he do this? Because he wants to be the dickhead to wreck her life. Not to get her pregnant, he’s learnt from that mistake, but to be the boy who every father wants to destroy, to be the memory that every girl wants to cry over because he’s not a prince charming and people shouldn’t day dream over him.
strengths;;
+ Manipulative
+ Intelligent
+ Isolates his emotions
+ Will power
+ Determined
weaknesses;;
+ He doesn’t often open up to people for fear of getting hurt
+ Blames himself for the death of his child
+ His ex girlfriend, Della, the only person he has ever truly let well and deeply in
+ His band because he actually cares a little bit about its success, and would probably do a lot to secure that success and to protect his band mates, even if he often doesn’t like to admit it.
fears;;
+ What people can do to you
+ The children’s home he grew up in
+ Getting hurt
+ Remembering his daughter, her death and how it’s his fault
goals;;
+ To destroy a few lives and then die, or maybe make something out of his life if he can manage it
+ For his band to take over the world
history;;
Harrison didn’t have the best start to life. His parents were constantly at each other’s throats, fighting over anything that could start an argument; often their unwanted son, often turning violent. Harrison, quite naturally, can’t quite remember any of this; nobody really felt the need to inform the child that he was unwanted, that his parents hated each other. But Harrison wasn’t stupid, he knew something was amiss when he landed up in a children’s home. Children don’t just happen to go there by accident, of course something in his home was wrong. His father had been jailed, having viciously attacked his mother, at which point young Harrison had been taken from their care. And yet, enough of his parents.
The children’s home wasn’t particularly a nice place to grow up in. Harrison was treat reasonably well by the staff; he was fed and clothed, but he never really received much affection from them. They would read him a bed time story, if he was lucky, but other than that Harrison was pretty much left to his own devices. This had both its advantages and disadvantages; it meant that his roommate could bully the shit out of him and nobody would really notice, oh because Harrison was clumsy; he often fell over, of course! But it also meant likewise that nobody really noticed when he snuck the guitar into his room. The guitar became some kind of therapy for the dark haired boy, a way of escaping people, or at least a way of calming him down after he’d hit a few kids or kicked them; Harrison had a bad temper. But the problem was he didn’t exactly know how to play it, and he did want to learn. He wanted to be like one of the guys who plays really fast whilst some other guy sings or screams some shit about how fucked up the world is. Yeah, that’s what Harrison wanted to do with his life. Rip shit up. His passion and enthusiasm lead him to his school music teacher, and although the teacher didn’t want to put too much time and effort into teaching the young boy, he recognised that Harrison couldn’t exactly afford a teacher himself so he gave him a few pointers in the right direction, some pentatonic scales and basic instruction. From then on Harry taught himself.
His childhood from then on was not too eventful. Yes, he got into lots of fights. Yes, he bullied a lot of children. And yes, he got bullied himself. But nothing out of the ordinary happened. The young guitarist life seemed to change entirely when he hit puberty, at age fourteen, which happened to be when he started high school. There were too many students with happy families, and by this point his anger towards his own situation has reached high point. His family had abandoned him. He’d been placed in a home because he hadn’t been wanted, and as far as he could tell he was very unwell off in comparison to the majority of the teenagers there, who had amazing phones, laptops and fashion. Harrison was wearing cheap supermarket brands and playing a second hand starter guitar. He couldn’t help but notice how people just didn’t seem too into him. It was the boys with the expensive gear who really made an impact upon the girls, the boys who walked with such confidence that they could make people do what they want, anything they want. This moment Harrison realised what he had to do, obviously he had to become one of those boys. He needed power over people so they would never have power over him. He needed to be able to destroy them from the inside out, without them even knowing about it, to destroy their lives because they had everything and it was sickly sweet. He was overly tormented by the other students.
So he stole. But he was charming, perhaps it was the lack of love and affection that had stemmed his emotions so closely guarded, but he could hide them and in doing so he could charm people into forgetting that he used to wear hand me downs, he could charm the staff into forgetting that they had never given him enough money to get such clothes; and where did he get his new guitar from? Harrison began to develop a way of words, words which he’d only endower to explore at the right time, a time which he carefully selected.
Once he’d managed to sort his appearance out, things became a little easier to do. He had the whole rugged musician thing going on with the girls, and his quick wit and intelligence usually gave him an advantage over the other boys who still felt the need to put him down due to his upbringing. Harrison had never been the best fighter, despite having been brought up needing to fight, and yet he still seemed to be in as many fights as the best. But words were Harrison’s weapon; words, revenge and his relentless passion to not become a victim again. He quickly learnt how best to achieve power over somebody, obviously through their heart. Following this knowledge, he grew into a perfect gentleman, and a brilliant player. He would set a girl as his target, to begin with he would only want a kiss, but as he started to get older his needs began to develop. Harrison lost his virginity at age fifteen, he hadn’t felt ready at the time, he hadn’t wanted to sleep with her but she was such a priss, the type of girl who had everything, daddy’s little princess. She was screaming to be used and abused, to have her virginity taken and then to be ditched. He wouldn’t allow himself to get attached to her. And so shortly after intercourse, Harrison dressed himself and left, proclaiming her to be the worst shag he’d ever had. And of course the only shag, but he didn’t feel the need to tell her that. Naturally she was heartbroken, distraught and he had never felt better, even if a few of the girls in school were giving him the black look. This quickly sorted itself out though because, as mentioned, Harrison was good with words, and he was quick to put a story to his advantage.
And then he met a certain someone who would perhaps never leave his life. She was the most perfect girl he’d ever seen and definitely the best conquest. If there was ever a father he wanted to make angry, it was hers. Instantly she became his target. He knew that it would probably take more time with her than it would with the others because they were all slags and she seemed so innocent, so instead of just going for it he took her on dates, allowed her to learn to trust him and tried to avoid falling for her all the same. He would take her to parties with his friends and show her a different type of life, a harder version of life where daddy didn’t pay for everything and grades were a little less important. He partied hard and lavished self destruction, and then he’d play her something on his guitar because sweet guys did stuff like that, didn’t they? And she had to think he was a sweet guy. When he and Delphine finally had sex, he didn’t do what he’d done before but instead stayed with her afterwards. He even stayed the night and held her in his arms. It wasn’t like the sixteen year old at all but there was something about this girl, something that he just couldn’t shrug off. He didn’t like it, it was far too convenient, he was being played by his own game, and yet he liked her.
Until she found out she was pregnant. This was the eye opener, this reminded him of why he didn’t get emotionally involved. Girls fucked things up. This was the ultimate control method, and he was not being controlled by her. She was a girl, he was meant to control her, have power over her and relish in it as opposed to being the little boy in the children’s home who all the older kids spat on, whose parents gave him up and condemned him to a life of bullshit, it wasn’t going to happen. He wouldn’t let her do this to him. It occurred to Harry that if he did this, if he left he’d be doing exactly what his parents did, but it didn’t matter. He had to leave. He couldn’t stay near her, or the kid, or anything. He wasn’t going to be a father and that was that.
It was dark outside when he packed his guitar in his bag and left the children’s home for the last time. He fled to a different city and really started life. He hadn’t been quite aware how secure having a bed to return back to was until he didn’t have one. Living on the streets was hard, and definitely cold, but Harrison wasn’t about to waste his life lying on street corners, shivering on park benches, he spent most of it at parties, meeting people, sleeping with people; by this point, his inhibitions a little less picky as his tastes varied from male to female. Alcohol was always a weakness of Harrison’s, he wasn’t an alcoholic or anything but he always lost control, he always made himself vulnerable, which he especially was, a seventeen year old living on the streets, hammered all of the time, and willing to sleep with whoever came his way. And he still couldn’t get her out of his mind. The pregnancy had destroyed everything. He’d lost any control he’d had, he’d lost his home, he had no money and charm didn’t really work if you were that drunk. He was tired of waking up in a different person’s bed, because that was pretty much the only way he’d get to sleep inside, he’d grown into everything he hated. The pregnancy was not meant to control him, but it had, it had ruined him.
So Harrison returned to face his fate. He had friends back home, friends who could give him a couch to sleep on, and he also knew that he’d probably have a child. He wasn’t exactly ready to face up to his responsibilities as a father but he was ready to regain the control he’d had as a child, and to straighten himself out. He had destroyed nobody’s life but his own. It was the wrong attitude. But he still has his guitar, so that was good. He sought out Delphine and apologised profusely, something which he hated doing because he could feel it again, the feelings he’d tried to ignore before. And then he was introduced to his daughter, Daniella. It was strange, seeing this child that he’d created, and he was only eighteen. It blew his mind. But she was his daughter, she was living, a creation of both himself and Delphine, as much as he hated it, there was no way this little girl was going to exist without him knowing her now.
He took her out and tried to be responsible, but who was he kidding? He was a child himself! He was only interested in playing guitar and whilst he’d laid off on the sex a little bit since his previous wild encounters, parties were definitely still a priority of his. He had expected to sort his life out, to become all powerful upon his return, but alcohol was still a problem and his friends were a bad influence. But Harrison believed he was strong, so when he went to the party to drop his friends off, his daughter in the back, he believed that he’d not actually attend the party. This was a problem because he couldn’t yet resist a party, he loved having a good time and parties usually meant attention, something that Harrison definitely loved. He’d gone past the point of wanting to bed easy girls, because they were boring but he didn’t mind being chatted up. A drink or two wouldn’t hurt. So he brought the kid inside the house party with him, the party being at a friend’s of his, and left her with a few toys in an upstairs bedroom. He didn’t mean to drink but alcohol was passed around and he happened to drink an awful lot. By 3am, with a crying child, Harrison stumbled from the party with his friends and found his way into the car. He put their child in the front seat, he didn’t bother putting on her seatbelt because he just didn’t think. The music was loud. The speed was fast. The louder the child cried, the louder the music would go up and the more the alcohol would be spilled between the three friends. And that’s when it happened. The car veered across the road as the teenager turned back to look at a face his friend was pulling, and by the time he’d turned around he was drowned by bright headlights. He squinted in the blinding brightness and tried to steer out the way but it was too late. The car crashed into a truck, and he was slammed forwards, his seat belt slashing into his neck as his head smashed against the steering wheel, causing the horn to go off like an awful siren. Glass shattered from the windscreen and moments later, as Harrison started coming around, an awful pain in his head and a salty wetness staining his eyesight, he turned around. Daniella wasn’t in the front seat. He felt truly awful in himself, the pain almost enough to make him pass out, but there was an urgency somewhere in his drunken mind. He had to find his daughter. His friends were alive, he could hear their moans. He climbed over the empty seat, much to his displeasure, as his injuries stretched so far to a broken rib, but he needed to find her. He didn’t know how long he’d even been out for, or what he was doing, he just knew he couldn’t hear her crying anymore and he was started to panic a little as he clung onto consciousness. The truck driver was standing by something on the road. As he saw Harrison walking over, he started to scream, to shout at him, calling him every name under the sun because Harrison had been driving and it was his fault, it was his fault she was dead. He heard the words but it didn’t hit him until he saw her bloodied, limp body, a small mess of road kill on the ground. And he finally lost consciousness.
Everything seemed to pass in a blur. When Harrison woke up, in hospital, it seemed to be a really bad dream. His friends were fine, he was fine, nothing that wouldn’t fix itself within a couple of weeks or months of healing, maybe there’d be a few scars but they weren’t dead. But Daniella was. Delphine never spoke to him again. And he’d never hurt so much in his life. Even through the court case he’d felt a painful numbness, as if he was stuck in the dream state. He’d received a suspended sentence, and ordered to stay away from alcohol and driving for 3 years. It was a good idea, of course he didn’t want to drink again in his life. He didn’t want to touch the stuff. He never wanted to lose control like that again, he always had to have control of his actions because he’d never been so powerless, and all he knew was that he was responsible for the death of his child. But he wouldn’t allow himself to mourn for her. He wouldn’t allow himself to attend her funeral or visit her grave site, he’d forever remained absent from her side. He wouldn’t even let himself look at a photo of himself and her, and he never sought out Delphine again.
Instead Harrison joined a band. He put all of his efforts into that band and into making music with them. He let the band in and grew caring for each of the members in turn. Stage became his Heaven, his guitar was the Bible, making music was his escape. Without alcohol in his life, he grew cold and quickly started to develop his old tricks. He became obsessed with controlling people and manipulating them because the lack of control was terrifying, nothing scared him more than not being in control of himself, and those around him.
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age;; 20
what makes the world go 'round?;; ;D admin'd
roleplay sample;;
The professor stood at the front of the classroom, his wand waving to show an example of the new charm the class were meant to be learning. Glazed grey eyes looked to the left, the image of his sleeping friend merely bringing a small purse to the blonde’s pale lips as he turned his attention to the rest of the room. Some people seemed attentive and eager to learn, yet the majority of the room, like Draco, were disengaged. They were probably thinking about the up and coming Quidditch game, but Draco didn’t allow his thoughts to linger, if they ever had really considered the other students with much depth at all. He crossed his arms over his chest and sat up straight, with a light sigh so not to stir the people around him. Ordinarily attention didn’t bother him, in fact he yearned for it, but today he didn’t like the idea of his thoughts being disturbed because some idiot wanted to tell a joke, especially at his own expense. Let them try, he thought menacingly, although the conviction was lost. Things had changed in the last few months and he was still trying to register them. His father was no longer the hero he had once been.
Draco turned to peer out of the frosted window; winter had seemed to come so fast this year, and although the castle was warm with its logs of fire, Draco wanted nothing more than to be outside to breathe in the snow and shiver in its wake. He wanted to escape the stuffy classroom and his judgemental classmates, it seemed only hours ago that he could have controlled them with a mere sneer or raise of his brows. He was determined that somehow he would get it all back, but just how he wasn’t sure, and he just didn’t feel like pretending. Sitting with the Slytherins, as if everything was normal, just wasn’t what he wanted. He’d lost everything and he had to deal with it somehow.
When Draco turned back from the window, he was surprised to find his classmates swishing their wand in a way that was foreign to him. The instructions had seemed to fly over his head, and he looked around uneasy at his ‘friends’ to see what they were doing, as if he’d just awoken from a long dream. He’d never intended to grow so withdrawn but since his father’s capture, it had been an inevitable spiral. Sighing a little louder this time and uncrossing his arms as his fingers curled loosely around the end of his wand, he lazily made a flick of his wrist but without even knowing what he was doing, there was little success. ”This class is such a waste of time,” the blonde muttered bitterly to those around him as he stuffily replaced his wand to the desk, slouching down in his chair.
Draco turned to peer out of the frosted window; winter had seemed to come so fast this year, and although the castle was warm with its logs of fire, Draco wanted nothing more than to be outside to breathe in the snow and shiver in its wake. He wanted to escape the stuffy classroom and his judgemental classmates, it seemed only hours ago that he could have controlled them with a mere sneer or raise of his brows. He was determined that somehow he would get it all back, but just how he wasn’t sure, and he just didn’t feel like pretending. Sitting with the Slytherins, as if everything was normal, just wasn’t what he wanted. He’d lost everything and he had to deal with it somehow.
When Draco turned back from the window, he was surprised to find his classmates swishing their wand in a way that was foreign to him. The instructions had seemed to fly over his head, and he looked around uneasy at his ‘friends’ to see what they were doing, as if he’d just awoken from a long dream. He’d never intended to grow so withdrawn but since his father’s capture, it had been an inevitable spiral. Sighing a little louder this time and uncrossing his arms as his fingers curled loosely around the end of his wand, he lazily made a flick of his wrist but without even knowing what he was doing, there was little success. ”This class is such a waste of time,” the blonde muttered bitterly to those around him as he stuffily replaced his wand to the desk, slouching down in his chair.
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