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This character makes me feel like a bad person in ways other characters never have.
ther o l e THEBASICS
Zesiro Ignatius Hendrikx ďI know; my first name is a bloody Kaffir name. See, my great grandfather, the damn traitor scourge that he was, was a Kaffir-lover. Shagged one and started a tainted lineage right from us. Great, huh? Then he gave my grandfather a middle name of theirs, and fucking suggested they give a Kaffir middle name to my dad when he was born. I guess family wishes were more important than honour, because they agreed, and eventually, sticking with tradition, one got passed to me. Anyway, Zesiro (pronounced zeh-SEE-roh) means first born of twins, which my father was, and I am, too.Ē
canon or original
Z, Zeh, and so on. He doesnít really care what nickname heís given. He used to insist on being called Ignatius, or a variation of that, because he didnít want to live with a non-European name, until he had a little incident with fire. Since Latin was part of his tutoring, he knew Ignatius meant fiery, and he couldnít stand to think of fire every time someone talked to him.
June 27th, 1954
ďEh. Really donít think about it that much. For me guys are usually better. GirlsÖitís whatever.Ē
inside ando u t PHYSICAL
COMPACT SPASMODIC CASUAL
Up close or from afar, whether one knows him well or doesnít know a thing about him, itís known that heís pretty short. Zesiro is only about 5í5Ē and some measurings have only reached 5í4ĹĒ. This doesnít lend to an overall intimidating appearance. He could easily look cute and cuddly, adorable, childlike, and so on, yet he doesnít. In glimpses he might seem harmless, but when the whole is put together, his behavior makes him far from sweet. On the contrary, heís almost vicious. Zesiro can often resemble a caged animal. He paces, he twitches, he glares, grumbles, snarls, clenches his teeth, and overall heís constantly moving. He walks quickly, usually with a dark, unfriendly expression and squared shoulders, as if on the defensive or on the prowl. He is almost incapable of toning himself down. If he could, he might be very good for undercover work, considering how normal and unintimidating he can appear. However, he comes off as very aggressive, which he is.
The way Zesiro moves is rather distinct. He almost always does things as if he is irritated, uneasy, or restless. He isnít delicate at all; quite the opposite. When he walks, his steps are swift and poignant, his hands sometimes stuffed on his jacket pockets, or his arms thrusting back and forth opposite his legs. He can be quite jittery, his hands move fast and not very carefully, and heís known for breaking things unintentionally more often than intentionally. When he sits, itís usually hunched forward or completely spread out, and his hands are almost always busy, no matter what. He never really ceases movement, and when he does he never looks at ease. He always looks like heís trying to restrain himself or like heís still moving subtly.
A genuine smile is usually not something to be found on his face. If heís pleased, itís usually a smirk; the kind of smirk that can either be very good for you or very bad for you. Along with his smirk can bring a near-manic look in his eye, depending on the situation. His face is actually quite expressive, and it rarely looks bland. The closest it gets is usually when heís annoyed; which is somewhat often, but more common than a bland expression is a pissed one. Little expression comes when he knows he has to control himself. When he doesnít, his face is a clear indicator of what heís going to do next. Zesiro, when in unfavorable situations, can make the most infuriated of faces. He can get to the point of shaking, and his eyes become daggers. His face can get so tense it looks like itís going to break. When he has to sit still, he never looks pleased. He looks like heís going to break just beneath the surface, which isnít far from accurate, so of course he avoids this at all costs. Another thing he tends to do is bare his teeth, for no reason in particular. Most often this is when heís the maddest, but sometimes there are other reasons, as well.
His facial structure is quite rectangular, since his face is squarer than an oval but too long to be heart-shaped or block-like. He does not have high cheekbones, but he does have a strong jaw line, although his chin is non-descript; not dimpled, not jutting out, and not sunk in. Just there and normal, maybe a little angled. His lips are pink and not very unique, since his mouth is normal and regular-sized. He has slight creases between his mouth and cheeks when he smiles, but that isnít very often. Zesiroís eyes are dark blue, sometimes seeming grey, and round and wide. His nose is straight and narrow, with a small flare at the nostrils. He also has a simple silver ring in his left nostril, and had one in his eyebrow until it was ripped out by a particularly lively goat. Thereís a small scar there, but itís hardly noticeable, especially since itís on the side that his hair swings to. Heís not a particularly striking person, but put all together heís definitely not unattractive or plain. One thing that is worth noting about his features is his ears. They arenít large or small or deformed or anything, but everyone in his family has virtually the same ears of the same shape, just slightly different sizes. Unfortunately for them, this means that the ďillegitimate lineĒ also has this trait as well.
Zesiroís hair is brown, somewhere between dark and medium, probably leaning towards dark. It isnít dark enough to ever be mistaken for black, however, unless itís wet. His hair is rather wavy, sometimes even a little curly, especially towards the ends. Itís pushed mostly to one side, although not exactly parted. More like one big swish. Itís not short, but not particularly long, and he never really lets it get out of hand. Most commonly itís long enough to hang on his eyes, but itís always pushed to the sides, and his ears almost never show, for the weird family trait reason. His hair isnít the neatest of things, but itís also only slightly messy, because itís naturally that way and he spends more time on cleanliness than beauty. As for hair anywhere else, he really isnít particularly hairy. His chest and stomach are quite bare, but of course he has dark hair in the natural places, such as his arms and legs. His eyebrows are a touch below bushy and quite solid, but by no means very distinct. Other facial hair is never a very prominent thing with him, but he usually has some slight stubble. His hair tends to grow very fast, and itís not like it looks that bad, so he usually has a bit more than a five oíclock shadow. However, heíd never ever go for a full on mustache or beard. Ever.
He may be short, but Zesiro is very muscular. There is almost no fat on his body and therefore, heís rather solid. He has always been active, and although this doesnít include anything like a gym, since honestly, he wouldnít be able to be around all those muggles, he keeps fit in plenty of other ways. His arms, chest, and stomach are sculpted and might even be considered chiseled, and his legs are probably the strongest thing about him. Zesiro has a six pack, the kind of muscles that stay in instead of bulging out. That would just look incredibly out of place on him. He also has the classic V towards his hips. Growing up doing farm work his whole life made him anything but lazy, and even though he no longer does that kind of work, he still stays in shape. He has a set of weights, he does sit ups, push ups, and even practices on a punching bag whenever he can, considering he doesnít have one at his current location. On top of that he walks or runs a lot, and heís basically always active. Most of his muscles were developed over his growing up days, and now he mostly works on maintaining them. He canít imagine getting soft.
Despite all this muscle, heís not really thick, and when heís clothed he doesnít look like heíd be particularly buff, but thatís just another deceitful thing about him. Someone might even pass him off as scrawny, but he isnít in any way, aside from his height. His arms and legs, granted, donít have bulging muscles, either, but they are strong and solid, and are still indented and curved in the appropriate places. Even though he wears clothing that fits, they usually still hang off of him slightly, since he has nothing to fill them out except his muscle, really, which obviously stays suctioned to him, unlike untoned muscled bodies that can cause cloth to cling. However, when he walks or does physical activities, hints of his stiff muscles are easy to catch against his pants, the stomachs and sleeves of his shirts, and so on.
His hands are rough from working outside most of his life, and his body is no stranger to scars, most of them small. He has quite a few small white scars along his fingertips and hands from working with various farm tools, animals, and the like, but also from making knives. Of course heís acquired larger scars throughout his life, but none have been as serious as the burn on his arm. On Zesiroís upper right arm, about three inches below his shoulder socket, he has a four square inch scar from a burn when he was much younger. It didnít cut deep into his arm, thankfully. Itís mostly just a surface scar, but itís still quite noticeable, and most of the time it isnít showing because of all of his layers. Although some of his siblings got pretty tan, he wasnít one of them. Zesiro is not extremely pale, but heís far closer to white than he is to tan. Working out and eating healthily has kept his skin quite nice, and incredibly smooth wherever it hadnít been exposed to the elements too much. The skin of his face, arms, and hands show moderate signs of a lot of time in the sun and dirt.
He has never been a flashy dresser. He prefers black, dark blue, gray, and so on for his color schemes. One of the few oddities of his appearance would be the newly branded Dark Mark on his arm. While in South Africa, Zesiro wore a lot of sleeveless shirts. Some of them were cut off, or sometimes they were just beaters, but he almost never wore more than one layer. He also hardly ever wore shorts, despite the heat. He has pretty much always worn pants, one reason because his legs were likely to get beat up and snagged on things if he left them exposed. He also just likes them much better. Jeans or black pants were most common, and he didnít really branch out from there. On days when he wasnít just at home, he usually put on a short-sleeved button up shirt, such as when he had to go to town or when meeting with family friends, or so on. There was very little need for classy dressing, so he didnít really develop much of a sense for that. There was also very little need to wear a lot, and his clothing was lightweight, usually soft cotton.
In the United Kingdom, however, itís a very different story. Zesiro, of course, since heís used to the heat of South Africa, is almost constantly cold and in layers. Heíd never even dream of wearing shorts now, so he stays faithfully with his pants and jeans. His top half is often layered with a undershirts, t-shirts, longsleeved shirts, hoodies, and his jacket. How many he wears each day really depends on the day, but rarely does he have anything less than three layers. Even if itís a sunny day in the UK and the natives consider it to be warm, heís probably wearing his jacket. Actually, he very rarely is without it, and if he is, he has a hoodie instead. The only time he doesnít have a lot of layers on is when he sleeps. Instead, he just sleeps in sweatpants, but with quite a few blankets. One constant is that heís usually wearing a chain with three stones attached; hematite, garnet, and obsidian. He likes the shine of hematite, the dark, rich color of garnet, and obsidian is great for making knives, because itís incredibly hard. Itís not particularly important, but heís worn it for years and feels strange without it. He even wears it when he showers.
Cleanliness is rather important to Zesiro. He does work out a lot, but he also showers after almost every time he works out, too. He showers when he wakes up, too. Back home, he would always shower before and after a day of work, and he almost never ate a meal inside while dirty. He brushes and flosses regularly, keeps his hands very clean, and heís not someone who will wear their clothes in rotation. Nope, he actually washes his and switches up his outfits. Not for style, but just because so much consistency bothers him. Of course he doesnít go over the top and buy obscure products to help with this. Again, his goal is cleanliness, not beauty. Heís a normal soap and shampoo kind of guy, and he shaves every few days, to keep his hair down but he isnít obsessive over it. He used to constantly have dirt and dust ingrained in his body, but since moving most of that has gone away, so now heís left cleaner than ever before.
itĎs all about the stuff on thei n s i d e PERSONALITY
AGITATED DEPENDABLE AUDACIOUS
Being active. Knives. Mandrax. Outdoors. Companionship, but not necessarily friendship. Being a part of something. Smoothies and healthy drinks. People who stay in their place. His family. Fellow Death Eaters. Food and cooking. Having things to do. Animals. Walking. Warmth. Rough sex. Pain. Rocks and minerals. Throwing things. Making things. Making knives. Trashing shit. Intimidating people. South Africa. His family.
Kaffirs Muggles Muggle Kaffirs. Stupid people. Old age. Annoyance. Cars. Complainers. Fire. Cold weather. Small spaces. Inactivity. Boredom. Attention. Interrogation. Presumptuous people. Unhealthy things. Over the top affection and romance. Pointless rules. Lazy asses. Grease. Weakness. Surprises.
Heís not lazy. If he says heís going to do something, heíll do it. Heís hardly ever bothered by anything he has to do; guilty conscience is an incredibly rare thing. Heís very physically fit. Heís pretty tolerant of those who are on the same side as him.
Heís really short. He canít sit still or be calm. Heís never at peace. He doesnít really think things through. Very often he acts without thinking, following his instinct. But he doesnít feel bad about this or regret it. Heís not very intrigued by being independent. He doesnít really have plans. He just does things day by day, and if someone is telling him to do them, heís not really bothered by it. Mandrax. He has a very bad temper.
Pacing, moving, fidgeting, and sometimes, at his extremes, twitching. He always doing something, even if this means keeping himself busy by taking care of people, cooking, running errands, making work for himself, going for long walks. He flips his knife out sometimes and opens and closes it over and over, making sharp clicking noises. Sometimes he runs his fingers over the blade, too, getting multiple small cuts without realizing it. He works out and does things to keep himself fit constantly. Smoking Mandrax to calm himself down, his only unhealthy activity. He smokes it once a day, whenever he needs it most.
His extended ďfamily.Ē A lot of people donít know that he can speak Afrikaans. Heís not all that into the Death Eater movement. Heís there for something to do, and because he definitely believes in it more than the other side, but he doesnít have faith in it at all. Itís just another thing thatís there; he doesnít really care where it goes. His level of attachment to things. He doesnít even realize it; itís mostly detectable through his actions. How easily he can be provoked or freaked out. It isnít really a secret, but it tries to make it one.
Meerkat; a social and swift creature.
A whirl of fire bursting towards him and then relapsing a little and just dancing wildly. He freezes when he sees it, his heart pounds, and his eyes are transfixed. This intense fear of fire was created when he was nine years old. The pig building was burning, and Zesiro ran inside to try and free them. Most of them escaped, but he was trapped for almost ten minutes when half of a dividing wall fell on him. He hated small spaces to begin with, so adding fire was a nightmare. His older brother got him out, but the fire got pretty close, he was terrified, and he has a scar on his right upper arm from a burn. It could have been worse.
Earth. The smell of spices, other additives, vegetables, fruits, and meats drying in the sun. Methaqualone, aka Mandrax, and marijuana burning.
If someone wanted to drive Zesiro batshit crazy, they could easily do so by tying him up and locking him in a small, dark area, maybe by adding some taunting sounds, such as scratched and screeches, too. To put it simply, he has no tolerance for confinement. He doesnít like small spaces and he doesnít like to be restrained. Zesiro might be small, but his actions make his presence much larger. He canít be contained in a small space, and they actually make him very anxious and irritable. Irritability is a very common thing for him. Many things annoy him, and annoying people, well, heíd like to end them, to put it simply. He hates whiners and people who are self-righteous and so on. He gets pissed off by people who are always trying to rise above where they belong, always trying to make themselves sound so much better than everyone else just because theyíre working for a cause. These things disrupt everything, and really, they just annoy the fuck out of him.
When someone is as restless as Zesiro is, itís only natural that heís a little jumpy as well. He is not afraid of the dark at all, but he will get fucking freaked out if heís in the dark and something jumps out at him. Heíd almost never run away or anything like that, of course, but he might try very hard to kill it, even without knowing what it is. He tends to act hastily, too hastily. If heís told to do something, if the person is someone that he thinks is credible, heíll do it. Zesiro doesnít care very much if itís dangerous, near impossible, or so on. He can be sent to do basically any reckless thing and he wonít protest. Maybe heís too bold, but he really just doesnít think things through. Heís more of a doer than a thinker. Zesiro mainly acts on instinct, which isnít always beneficial to him. He does things that most people probably wouldnít with a few minutes thought, but he doesnít take the time or feel the need to do that. Because of this, he is definitely more destructive than the average person, and preservation of life is not in the forefront of his mind. Of course, heís one of those people that would go down fighting like a rabid animal, but heíll probably be the one to put himself in the situation, because he just isnít a bit careful.
Although Zesiro doesnít put a lot of pressure into thinking, by no means is he stupid. Heís very well-learned, actually, about the world in general, and particularly is strong in the sciences. Growing up his parents made sure that their children had a wide range of knowledge, as they believed good pureblood children should have. His marks were always very good, especially because he was very diligent. His hard work extends past just physical activities. He doesnít actively seek knowledge much anymore, but he doesnít like to know things if someone has something interesting to say.
Zesiro is incredibly hard-working, and he is almost never at rest. He canít stand being bored, and heíll do anything to keep himself busy. He does unnecessary errands, goes on long walks, cleans, cooks, and even asks if anyone needs anything done. If heís made to stay somewhere with nothing to do for too long, he goes nearly crazy. Zesiro is very self-motivated and not a bit lazy. Heíll do things even if he doesnít want to, because he often feels obligated to do them. He even takes care of people if they arenít taking care of themselves, just as another thing to do. Heís never just sitting around, staring at the ceiling, and if he is, heís definitely not happy about it.
Individuality is not a strong trait of his. Sure, he does what he wants, until someone tells him not to. Zesiro has a group mentality, to put it one way. He doesnít like to do things that will harm other people heís connected to, even though itís inevitable sometimes, since he is such an instinctive actor. He tries his best not to, though, and although he has no control over himself when it comes to personal things, the only time he really can have control is when he feels like he needs to so he wonít hurt his group. He will do things on their behalf even if he doesnít want to. Before, this group was his family, and in a way it still is, but since theyíre all the way in South Africa, the Death Eaters have kind of taken their place. To be honest, the Death Eaters true goals and what they deeply believe in, Zesiro really doesnít care that much. He wants revenge and destruction, but the ideology, heís not so much into. However, heíd never betray them, heíd never intentionally do things to hurt the cause, and heíd never say these things out loud. He is devoted without being devout.
As hard as he tries, itís incredibly hard for Zesiro to control himself. Piss him off, and heíll want to fly at you and rip your face off, and if thereís nothing holding him back, he might just do it. He can be provoked in an instant. When he wants to rip something apart, heíll usually at least put some damage in it, too. Heís obviously very aggressive, usually for at least a small reason, but often not for big reasons. Zesiro also gets into a mindset where heíll keep going until something stops him or he achieves his goal. Sometimes he doesnít even realize how bad it is and only vaguely knows its happening and he just gets locked on until something distracts him. Heís like a mini tank and can be quite dangerous, with no real desire to real himself in. Although, granted, itís not always completely his fault.
Zesiro is not very emotionally, despite all thatís built up in him. He isnít lonely, his feelings arenít hurt easily, he doesnít want attention, and he doesnít really care what people think about him. Despite being very attached to people, emotionally heís very independent. He doesnít show a lot of deep emotion, and some people might think he doesnít have any, and they might not be completely wrong. He suppressed it for a long time, because it never seemed to really matter, and what use was it to him? You could say heís jaded, but heís not sad about it. Of course, he still feels sadness and he definitely feels anger, and in a way he does feel happiness, despite contentment being much more common than joy, but heís not angsty. Being in such a big family, people might think heíd crave attention, but really, heís fine without it. He prefers to be left alone until someone has something to him to do. He forms connections without getting close.
With romance, Zesiro is anything but romantic. He finds that all very annoying and unnecessary, actually. Heís never really had a real relationship, because in his eyes, who the fuck would want one? Heís definitely not someone who sleeps around wildly, though. To be honest, sex is hardly ever the first thing on his mind. Sure, he likes it, but heís not really a horn dog, and he really is very picky. Another thing that hindered his romantic activity (if it can even be called that), is his preference to fuck around with guys. South Africa was extremely strict against homosexual activities. Although this would never stop him, it meant that a lot of people were far less obvious, and he would never take the time to really pursue someone without being positive heís going to get something. Heís had girls a few times, but he finds them less exciting, to be honest. However, there are several exceptions, and gender isnít critical to him. Aside from sexual activities, actual dating? Öhe really doesnít have much input about it. Heís hasnít exactly done it, except once he tried and it just didnít tickle his fancy. He and his ďdateĒ just ended up leaving and ďgoing somewhere.Ē This doesnít mean he minds messing around with the same person multiple times, because heís totally fine with that. Dating isnít his thing, but fucking is.
Friendships arenít exactly his strong point, either. Itís not that Zesiro doesnít have a sense of humor, but he doesnít exactly know when itís a good time to let it out. Therefore, he keeps it reeled in more often than not. Once he gets comfortable with people, though, heís still somewhat just on the side. In a group of people, he doesnít try and be the center of attention, but some days heís more social than others. Zesiro prefers to be there rather than be a truly intricate part, for no reason in particular; thatís just how he is. He is not particularly awkward around people, but heís also not one to warm up right away. It takes a little bit to earn his trust, but once you have it, you have it basically for forever. Once he does make friends, he is open to just hanging out and doing random things, maybe even laughing a lot, although itís probably not as laid back as most relationships would be.
Something Zesiro actually feels a lot of affection for, or as much affection as he feels, is animals. Well, what he feels is probably closer to an affinity than affection. He likes basically all animals. He likes taking care of them, being around them, and even holding them. Zesiro doesnít really know why he likes them so much, maybe because they had been there his whole life, and something that was his responsibility, but he also doesnít try and rationalize it. He just knows that he much prefers them to people, and thatís that. If the majority of the people in the world could be gone and animals not pushed into the underground so much, heíd be more than fine with that. Zesiro doesnít take pleasure in harming animals, despite how often he has had to do it before. However, in his mind, that necessary, but if it isnít necessary he would never do it just for fun. He is at ease with animals, most of them, at least, except for the aggressive ones, of course. Those annoy him a little, because they are always causing such scenes. The majority of animals, though, he actually loves. Animals are one of the few things that actually make him smile, if only slightly. In fact, sometimes he is more like an animal than a person, the way he acts erratically and is instinct-driven. They make a lot more sense to him, and although he doesnít strive to understand everything, itís always nice when he feels like heís on the same page as something.
Along with animals, the earth is one thing that he also likes. Zesiro likes the outdoors. He likes various landscapes, such as mountains, rivers, fields, the sun, the moon, breezes, storms, and so on. He probably feels most peaceful when the weather is the most brutal, actually. He isnít that fond of the desert, though, because honestly, it rather bores him, and itís already been asserted how much he hates boredom. Zesiro definitely prefers nature to cities, because thereís just so much to set him on edge and to set him off. Not only does he like the land, but he also likes rocks and minerals, more than the average person. Itís one of the things that he took an active interest in, and he can identify quite a few of them. Theyíre probably the main reason he makes knives, because he likes working with them, and thereís so many varieties. They, certainly, never bore him.
To be totally honest, Zesiro doesnít always enjoy killing random, innocent people. If theyíre on the opposite side of him, by all means, he doesnít feel bad at all killing them. However, he doesnít particularly enjoy snatching people off the street and just ending their lives in a dark alleyway. Of course, if they annoy him first, this is quite different. Also, if theyíre black or muggle, all the more reason to. However, even if he does a killing he doesnít really enjoy, he feels very, very little guilt. He might feel a ping of it the instant he does it, but it goes away quickly and he doesnít think about it afterwards. His guilt doesnít build up, because he lets it go immediately. Zesiro is just doing his duty; he has no reason to think twice about it. For the most part, though, he feels no guilt at all. Usually he knows, or rather, thinks that the person deserves it. A lot of the time he feels not much at all. He grew very used to killing growing up, even if it started with just animals, he actually feels much more at ease killing people. People and animals are very different to him. Animals just live, but people live to fuck other people over and be blights on the Earth, basically. Sometimes he does really enjoy the killing, though. The more reason he has to dislike the person, the happier he is to kill them.
As is to be expected, Zesiro perpetuates a few pureblood stereotypes. He isnít that wealthy, so snobbery isnít in place there, but he definitely sees muggles as inferiors. Although his prejudice might not be as malicious as some, it is still evident. He is also severely racist, since he was raised to believe that black Africans especially were inferior as well. Therefore, black muggles were at the bottom of the list, and the rest fall in accordingly. In fact, heís more racist than he is blood prejudiced, probably. He doesnít necessarily hate everyone who isnít white or isnít a muggle, but he does look down on them and consider them a nuisance.
Vengeance runs strong in Zesiro. Wrong him or anyone heís close to or connected to, and he will have it out for you. Nothing makes him burn more than someone not getting what they deserve, and he will feel like they deserve the worst if they harmed his group of people. Forgiveness towards someone on the opposing side to him is almost impossible to him to even think about. Itís a great shame to do so, he thinks. It shows giving up, which is something he doesnít do. On the other hand, if itís someone he doesnít dislike in the first place, Zesiro is remarkably forgiving. He hardly even gets offended. He can be quite the doormat to people that he feels are worth it. Zesiro will do basically whatever they ask, and even if they donít treat him well, itís like he doesnít even notice. He just kind of brushes it aside and continues his life.
He has a strange daily routine. Zesiro sleeps from about eleven-thirty to six-thirty AM most days, depending, and usually goes for a walk or a run in the mornings, even if itís very cold. When he returns, he showers and makes a smoothie or shake of some kind, mostly with natural ingredients and incredibly healthy. The rest of the things he fills his days with really depend, since some days he has work to do, but some days thereís no orders. He then sleeps again from noon to two, and works out in some way again once he wakes up, and showers again. Of course, his day cannot always be like this. Some days can be unpredictable, and his schedule will be completely messed up. Sometimes he works out more, sometimes less, but generally he likes to stick to this. He does have times where he just likes to go out and wander at night and will get back much later than midnight. He basically just does what he feels like with his days, but this is usually how he likes to do it. Zesiro is very adamant about getting enough sleep and eating healthily, and this helps him stick too it without having to put too much thought into it.
Zesiro likes to keep his body pure, for the most part. He doesnít smoke cigarettes, he very rarely drinks alcohol, he usually gets enough sleep, his diet is a long ways healthier than the average personís, and heís not into very many drugs. Just one, actually, which requires the use of another. Mandrax, as heís been brought to call it, is his one weakness. Once a day he mixes the crushed pills with some marijuana and lights up. Well, on a very bad day, he might do this twice, but he prefers not to. He controls himself as much as possible to avoid a further addiction. It might seem strange that heíd even bother with the drug in the first place, since the rest of his routine is as natural as possible. Well, itís no secret that Zesiro has a terrible amount of energy, which can turn into negative energy, and he has a temper. He flies into rages with very little control over himself, and sometimes he just needs to calm himself down whenever he is least calm. Mandrax is ďperfectĒ for this, since it was once medically used as a sedative. It was very easy to get ahold of in South Africa, and although itís much harder to find in Europe, he sticks to it. Heís a loyal user of it now, and he doesnít want to mess with other drugs since he knows Mandrax is the one that does what he wants.
nothing is thicker thanb l o o d THESTORY
Just outside of Johannesburg, South Africa.
Wherever the Dark Lord puts him. Currently in Hogsmeade, Scotland.
Upper Middle Class
Death Eater. He doesnít need a lot of money, but if he does his home provides it.
Mostly private tutors, for magical as well as other subjects. There wasnít a large wizarding community where he lived, so no school, and his parents needed the children there instead of at boarding school, but at the same time they had enough money for tutors.
Klaas Hendrikx; deceased Mirabelle Hendrikx; living
Augustijn Hendrikx; brother; twenty-four; living Mensah Hendrikx; younger fraternal twin brother; twenty-two; deceased Alida Hendrikx; sister; nineteen; living Gisela Hendrikx; sister; eighteen; deceased Tulani Hendrikx; brother; fifteen; living
ďNone. Not even a long relationship. Doesnít seem like a big deal.Ē
ďNo fucking way.Ē
Leo Hendrikx; great grandfather Siboniso
The Hendrikx family was expelled from Great Britain in the early 1800s for dark magic. Not only was it dark magic, but great grandpa Leo also had a thing for raping muggles, and then the dark magic came later, where he didnít wipe their memories, but rather tormented them until they forgot at least mostly. Zesiro, actually, has quite a grudge against the bastard and would like to give him a piece of his mind, wand, or fist, however the fucker died way before he was born. Most people probably would have gotten stricter punishment, however as they were a pureblood family, so they got off easy. Since there was quite a large British presence in South Africa, a Dutch family from Great Britain really wouldnít be out of place. However, in the move they lost much of their wealth and respectability. They still had a decent sum of money, but not they would have to start making some, as well. Since the Hendrikx had once been a farming family back in Holland to begin with, why not return to their roots? Well, as much as they could, being thousands of miles from their origin.
Once they had secured a decent piece of land (actually hundreds of acres) about half an hour from Johannesburg, and the farm was set up, life wasnít too bad, actually. However, the first generation of Hendrikxís in South Africa were not very farm savvy, and thus acquired quite a few slaves. Great Grandpa Leo had only partly learned his lesson, though, and continued to sleep around with muggles, usually minus the rape and minus the torture. One of these muggles happened to be a slave of the Hendrikxís, too, and to make a long story short, she ended up pregnant, although Leo kept it from his family and took the secret to his grave. Around the time Sibonsio got pregnant, the slaves were freed, and Sibonsio and her family took the last name of the Hendrikx, since theirs had been long lost, even in their own continent. The two families parted ways for a long time after the slaves acquired their freedom, and the secret was lost for quite a long time.
The rest of their history remained uneventful for a long time. The farm stayed in the family, sometimes with multiple generations and subfamilies living there at once, because certainly there was plenty of room. Zesiroís grandfather shrunk it a little, however, by only having two sons, a set of twins. The older twin, Zesiroís uncle, returned to Great Britain, leaving the farm completely to Klaas and his lineage. Klaas and Mirabella got married in their twenties and started reproducing right away. The country was in so much turmoil at the time, with racial segregation fueling everything, and the economy wasnít doing very well. Hired work wasnít very practically if they really wanted to be able to provide for their family, so as an alternative, they had quite a few children instead. Augustijn came first and the pattern continued to Tulani over nine years, until Mirabelle was finally sick of having children, not to mention a family of eight was plenty big enough.
Zesiro was born three minutes and twenty nine seconds before his fraternal twin, Mensah. That made him the second born, and expected to be more responsible than the rest of the younger ones, which he was. They had a childhood, but a lot of it was mixed with work, as well. Their work could be fun, though, because they were out in the sun and occasionally had cousins or fellow purebloods to play with. Zesiro and Mensah were very close, although not a significant amount closer than the rest of the family. As the wizarding community in South Africa, let alone the pureblood one, was not very large, there werenít a lot of means of branching out beyond the family and a few close friends. Of course fights happened, often physical on the boysí part, but overall there were no major splits in the family. They worked together, ate together, laughed together, and just lived life together.
In public, they were much more reserved than they were in private. Although they were just farmers, they were white and they were wizards, and they still had a decent amount of money to their name. They still felt like they were above others, and they were just brought up to stick to themselves and their kind. Everyone else wasÖnot worth interacting with. All of the children were tutored privately by an array of tutors, to give them a considerable amount of knowledge, on magic as well as other topics. Even if several of them would probably stay on the farm their whole lives, they were still going to be educated, damn it.
As he was growing up, Zesiroís main job was taking care of the animals. He wasnít the only one doing it; his younger sister Alida helped him, too, once she was old enough to work. However, there were so many animals that there was a lot of work to do. There were bleating goats and boney cattle to graze, feed, and the goats also got milked. They had two South African Black Ostriches, a group of chickens, and of course sheep and pigs as well. Their focus was on crops, so they didnít have tons of animals, but definitely enough to keep his hands full all the time. There were a few horses for getting places around their land fast, such as checking fences and the like, or for carrying crops from the fields in carts, but he didnít really have very much to do with them. He spent most of his days feeding, taking care of, fixing up their pens, trimming hair and feathers, gathering eggs, and so on. About half the time he was also responsible for herding the goats, sheep, and cattle out to graze, and they even had a few cattle dogs to help out with the task. From the time he was five to eleven that was basically Zesiroís day in different orders all the time. However, it began to change as he got older, definitely not for the better.
For the longest time, Zesiroís father was the one that took care of the final part of the animalís lives. Zesiro knew it was happening, but he never saw it, and he didnít like to think about it. He basically ignored it. He, inevitably, grew close to the animals in a way. This bond wasnít really individual, but overall he felt like their protector. They needed him, and they were his job, and that was that. However, one day his dad took him into the part of the barn reserved for slaughtering, and finally it was his turn to learn how to do it. Zesiro, to say the least, freaked out and refused to do it. It was one of the first times he defied his parents so directly, and for days he dodged him whenever his father tried to bring him back to the barn. Eventually, though, his father got tired of it and forcefully drug him back, giving him a good smack so heíd stay still. He told him it was just part of life, and it really wasnít a big deal. It had to be done. So, sooner rather than later, Zesiro did it. The first time, he shook and cried silently and hated every minute of it. Eventually, though, he got used to it. He became indifferent to the killing, but he never liked it. He trained himself not to think about it at all, and just act and do what he got to be so skilled at.
As teenagers, Zesiro and his brothers especially did endless amounts of reckless things, since they had the land and means to do it, why not? Sometimes their sisters even joined in, and it really was a family event. They werenít always smart about it, either, as one time Mensah broke his leg in two places, due to an incident with an induced rock slide. Still fun, though, and they were magical so he was fine, anyway. Swimming and occasionally riding, as well as going to town to slip into the pubs, and basically anything they could think of was available to the Hendrikx children. Since their parents expected so much of them, they were very strict when it came to what they did on their off hours; as long as they werenít discovered.
They probably wouldnít have been discovered, either, except they made a little discovery of their own. Gisela, one night in May, was out on the town. She was one of the more cunning of the Hendrikx children. She was rather pretty and a little daring, and she had a knack for knowing a lot of gossip, since she could eaves drop or get it out of people easily. Of course they knew that other Hendrikx were out there, former slaves that had taken their good name, and they were always on the lookout for them, making sure that they didnít slander the good name. It was bad enough that they had it to begin with. She overheard a few wizards talking, and of course worked her way over and batted her lashes just so she could sit and listen, flirting the whole time and not seeming too interested. Once she knew what they were talking about, she started to be a little less secretive, asserted who she was, and quite insistently asked for more information. The man they were talking about had been causing a little trouble, and the men she had stumbled across were fellow wizards whose jobs were to make certain that the black wizards of South Africa didnít use magic to help the equality cause.
Demarco Hendrikx, a confirmed user of magic, lived much closer than the white Hendrikxís would ever have noticed. Gisela promptly returned home and told the rest of her family, and they did what they thought would be the best move before something worse happened other than Demarcoís existence; try to kill him. Mensah and Augustijn were the two that went, and Zesiro probably would have gone along as well, except he had been in an accident involving one of the smaller barns falling in that very day, and wasnít quite up to it yet, as much as he wanted to help his family out. Mensah and Augustijn located Demarcoís family, and for only a few minutes they watched closely. Mensah wanted to wait to make sure it was the right one, but Augustijn noticed the trademark ears, and figured that they probably wouldnít see him practicing magic openly anyway, so they went ahead with it. In moment they had killed their target, Augustijn the one actually doing the deed. Their target hadnít even drawn his wand; they were lucky.
They might have been lucky, but they werenít very discrete. The murder got out, and the rebel community latched onto it as an act of hatred. Zesiro would never know how they traced it back to his family, but obviously they did quite easily. A week later, Mensah, Gisela, and his father Klaas were using the muggle means (simply because it was the best way) of taking some of their goods to the market, with a cart attached to the back of a truck. As soon as they hit thirty-five miles an hour, a bomb that had been wired to the engine went off, killing all three of them in a blaze of fire. Devastated to lose such a large part of their tight knit family at once, they were also enraged.
There was no way the rest of the family could sit back. This meant war to them, and soon they learned that they hadnít even killed the right one. It didnít matter to them, anyway; at least the other side had paid in some way. Now they would just have to get the right one. Without him, none of it would have started in the first place. Zesiro and Augustijn were the most adamant about revenge, and in the next few days tore up two locations that they suspected rebels might be in. Then, they were approached by a Death Eater, a recruiter from Great Britain. He wanted them both, but they knew they both couldnít leave, and Augustijn as the oldest should stay behind with what was left of the family. Zesiro knew he had no time to mourn. That could come after he tore Demarcoís face off, slaughtered the rest of his family, and ended the thing for good. Not a week after his twin, father, and younger sister had died, Zesiro went to Europe.
take ab o w ANYTHINGELSE
Female lemur named Cyprine. She is almost a year old and below average in size. She has a rather calm and sleeps a lot. Not exactly high maintenance, which is why he was able to bring her with him.
Member No.: 1
Joined: 27-March 07
YOU HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED ! (Posted Image) Said SLYTHERIN, "We'll teach just those whose ancestry is purest."
congratulations, welcome to R E W I N D ! now that you're accepted, feel free to make a plot page, post in our playby claim, then start plotting and roleplaying! Any questions? Feel free to PM the admin or moderation team. --- and people call baldric the creep of the death eaters. beasting ap. quit making me want to make mine even longer. :( i'm sure we'll all ha ve fun with zesiro. well minus demarco, but it is ok. he isn't all of us. death eaters for the win.