NACHT, samael dominus

[sam]

• SAMAEL DOMINUS NACHT •
You know where you are?/ You're in the Jungle, baby/ You're gonna die.

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I KNOW THAT I'M ALIVE
the basics
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full name, Samael Dominus Nacht

nicknames, Samael, mostly. He might even tolerate Sam if he's in a good mood and he knows you well. Don't risk 'Sammy' unless you're itching to test the limits of the human tongue...

age, Twenty-Six

birthday, 1st of November, 1972

school, N/A. All that's known is that he attended some school of witchcraft outside of the U.K.

house, N/A

occupation, Sam's played a variety of odd jobs over the years, mostly vague, nondescript work, which gives one the sense that it's all illegal. On the plus side, his years in...er.. “the business” as he puts it, has left him with a wide variety of contacts. There's little he can't get, whether it be items or information. He's still working at whatever he works at (Really, it seems to change every time you ask him. Sam seems to dislike giving specifics), but he's added 'interrogator” to his resume. Working under the Death Eaters, Sam usually serves two purposes: He plays messenger, bringing whatever news he can glean from his contacts and working at nabbing anything the Dark Lord wishes to possess. On the other hand, he also plays the strong man. Sam's got a knack for getting people to spill things. You could say it's his talent. He seems to know exactly what it takes to break a person...

current location, Here...there... a little everywhere. He goes where he likes, or where ever the great Dark Lord tells him.

blood status, muggleborn Well now, didn't your mother ever tell you it's dangerous to go sticking your nose where it doesn't belong? You might lose it. He's a pureblood, thank you very much. Go ahead and check into his family history if you like. The Nacht's are pretty well known over in the States.

wand, 12”, Dragon heart string, Mahogany. A beautiful piece of work, far more superior in quality than those twigs you're average magician gets at that quack, Ollivander's. His is German-made.

broom, Yeah, he has one. Like hell he knows the brand. It's a relatively new model and that's about all he knows. Look, it flies and it flies well. That's really the only thing that matters, Yeah?

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WHEN YOU CALL ON ME
the appearance
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hair color, Black. Contrary to wizard fashion, Sam keeps it short. Hey, he doesn't want to look like that Snape guy, all lank locks and grease! He has the tendency to run his hand through it to smooth it back, which sometimes gives it a spiked look. Kinda dashing, yeah?

eye color, They're dark brown. In most lighting they almost look black.

height, Sam stands at a significant 6'2”. He's always had more than enough inches in the vertical department. He's usually the tallest, or one of the tallest individuals in a room, and Sam doesn't let his height go to waste. He commonly uses it to intimidate people. Even in the rare case that he's faced against a heftier opponent, Sam always seems to come out the 'big man' of the situation. There's no denying it... Samael has presence and he knows how to use it.

weight, 164. Sam's got a lithe, athletic build, one you might liken to a Quidditch player, if he'd ever gotten into the sport. He's got strength and power where it counts, while still possessing the ability to be quick on his feet. Of course, Sam might find himself at a disadvantage if he ever has to face off against some hulk-like mug... But that's what wands are for.

distinguising features,
-There's just something about Sam that...stands out. It's difficult to pinpoint... Most say that there's just something... sharp about him, razor-keen like the edge of a knife. You can see it in bits in places, like that glint he sometimes gets in his dark, dark eyes, or the twist of his lips when he gives his typical arrogant smirk. It's like he knows something you don't and is taking infinite pleasure in mocking you with it. It's not a pleasant look...

-Sam seems to have an incurable fondness for three things: Cigarettes, leather jackets and dark sunglasses. He's always got at least one on his person at all times and usually wears the leather jacket in conjunction with his trench-coat like wizard robes. Hey, it's called style! That's more than he can say for what the other death eaters and they're fondness for Victorianesque monstrosities. Yech.

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WHEN YOU REACH FOR ME
the personality
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likes,
-Cigarettes. Samael smokes like a fiend.

-Gambling. Sam's a risk-taker. He's always enjoyed the rush living dangerously provides. He enjoys gambling, whether it be with a game of cards or something more...high stakes. It's probably the aspect of Sam's personality that makes him so dangerous. Sam doesn't tend to think in terms of “this might get me killed, I shouldn't do it”. He tends to see things more along the lines of “these are the risks. Should I take them?”

-Manipulating. Hey, people are like buttons. It's fun to see what happens when you push the right ones.

-Power. Sam enjoys being on top and holding sway over other people. This ties into his whole “loves to push buttons” thing. It's all about power, about showing other people that they're nothing but precariously stacked plates. Oh so easy to break.

-Evenings. He's a night owl. Sam dislikes waking up early and it'll usually take a pretty damn good reason to get him out of bed before 12. He works best at night. Mornings just make him grumpy.


dislikes,

-Losing. Sam hates being upstaged. It's one of the sole things that get under his skin, and finding himself in that sort of position tends to fire up his temper, making him lose the whole “smooth and cool' act.

-Cowards. They don't provide a challenge. You'd be surprised with how many high and mighty types who've had the misfortune of finding themselves facing Sam's...er...methods. How easily they crack, scarcely even putting up a fight. Pathetic worms like that don't even deserve life.

-Muggles. Sam's believes that there's a reason magic only exists in certain people, why its such a particular thing. Obviously those who aren't imbued with magic are lesser beings. They aren't worth the dirt they step on.

-Religion Hah, like he'd be familiar with such a stupid muggle concept.

-The usual crud death eaters are supposed to dislike. Muggleborns, halfbloods, blood traitors and half breeds. Sam even dislikes purebloods (I mean, come on! Like incest is something to be proud of!) Sam despises humankind in general and seems to hate everyone in equal measure. To him, there's nothing special about people, nothing fantastic in a race that is often so willing to step over one another like cockroaches.

-Mornings. We've been over this. He's not a morning person.

-Being duped. Something Sam hates more than losing, it's being tricked.

strengths,
-Dueling; Hey. You don't get far in his business without knowing how to take care of yourself.

-Getting what he wants; It comes with being a
manipulative, conniving bastard. Having a sadistic streak helps too.

-Sam can hold a grudge. If someone crosses him, neither hell nor sleet, nor raging fires will stop him from seeking revenge. He will find that person and they will suffer. It's not a question of 'if”, but only of how and when. Gotta admire that kind of drive.

-Smooth-Talker. Sam is a people person, despite hating people's guts. But hey, he can be charismatic, charming... your typical nice guy. Trusting him, however, will likely be the last mistake you ever make.

-Unpredictable. Sam is not above dropping his wand and knocking heads the old fashioned way if he has to. He even keeps a knife on his person, just in case things get...personal.

weaknesses,
-Over confident;

-His fondness for taking risks. One day he's going to miscalculate...

-If anyone were to ever find out about his...- Hey, remember that little tip about wandering noses?

-Crazy? He might be. It's difficult to say. He seems like a fully rational, focused human being. He plans things out, he's capable of organized thought... but at the same time, there are moments where you feel that he can't be anything but insane. Sam's dead sure he's sane. Except when he sees Mikhail... Then he wonders.

-His ability to hold a grudge. Sam's single-minded drive for revenge can turn self-destructive. He tends to give himself wholly to his hate. Nothing matters, so long as what he loathes most is destroyed.

quirks/habits,
-He's a big smoker. He's always got one of those death sticks in his mouth. If he doesn't it's usually because he's A- responding the the mark or B- participating in some...er.. 'activities' where the smell of smoke might give him away.

-He's got a razor sharp smirk. Some people liken it to the grin of a shark.

-He sometimes runs a hand through his hair to keep up that 'spiked' look he seems to have going on.

-He's left-handed. Not really a quirk, but it's noteworthy, yeah?

worst fear,
Fire. Big, raging fires like the kind that killed Mikhail.

best kept secret, he's muggleborn Right. Last chance. Keep sniffing around and you'll lose more than just a nose, got it?

patronus, Sam's patronus takes on the form of a jackal. His happiest memory?
The day he killed those sadistic muggle pieces of scum, who dared think they could call themselves his 'parents'
You know, he really can't recall...

boggart,
Mikhail. Sure....he always hated his younger brother. He hated how Mikhail was normal, was a good little muggle, just like their parents wanted... How Mikhail wasn't a freak like him and Azrael. But what he hated most was how Mikhail was so damn selfless. It would have been easier to hate him had he been some spoiled rotten brat, like he was supposed to be, given the favoritism their parents bestowed on him. But he wasn't. He was so sickeningly kind, so damn apologetic... Any treats he received, he shared with him and Azrael, and out of spite, Samael constantly denied his younger brother's pity. It was hard to hate Mikhail, but that's why Sam did, with every fiber of his being. He struggled to hate him, because Mikhail didn't deserve to be hated, and that, in Sam's mind, was reason enough.
But....
Well, just because you hate someone, doesn't mean you want them dead.
Usually, at least.

It really was an accident. He was 14 at the time. Mike was only 11 and Azrael was 6. Sam had been confined to his room as was common practice whenever he displayed his 'satanic tendencies' as his parents had put it. It was late in the evening. He'd gone without supper, his stomach aching in protest when Mikhail had wandered in, Azrael in tow. At 6, the baby of the family was already earning their parents ire. Azrael was like him... the 'gift' had made itself apparent in him too, and to escape the wrath of their parents (another demon in their midst... Sam almost found it funny. How Mother and Father must have shrieked and moaned to find out that another one of their children had the spark of hateful magic?) he often followed Mike around like a little shadow. Mike had brought food...Sam tried to refuse it. He was in a particularly hateful mood that day...his dearest, darlingest mother and father had not been kind with their words or their fists. It was only a matter of time before he lashed out and hateful Mikhail, with that innocent smile and his ridiculous, loathful innocence... Perfect Mikhail, normal Mikhail, the apple of Mom and Dad's demented little eye. Something just snapped in Sam. He wasn't sure what. He scarcely even remembers how the scene had escalated so fast, how quickly he'd lost control, but before he knew it...
There was just fire. It had appeared out of nothing, catching onto the shutters of the windows and spreading from their, enveloping the ceiling. There had been shouting, chaos- something cracked from above. In perfect clarity (The before and after are a blur. He remembers this moment specifically) He remembers a beam of roof breaking down, falling for Mikhail as he struggled to shepherd his baby brother to safety.
Mikhail was pronounced dead at the hospital. Apparently it was the blow that had killed him.
Sam knew it was his fault. You could even say he felt some remorse, for causing his brother's death, but that remorse was short lived. In the end, it only gave him another reason to hate his brother. He still has nightmares, still sees his brother's damn ghost. He's not sure why it haunts him so much, but the phantom refuses to leave him alone...


amortenia, Cigarettes, leather, the smell of smoke in general, beeswax and strong coffee

relationship status,Single. Hey, he likes the ladies, but has no plans for settling down.

sexuality, Straight

overall personality,

Samael's personality is almost impossible to describe. He can be charming, but sadistic; he's charismatic, but he holds humanity as the lowest sort of life form; He could be friendly one minute, only to kill you the next- Samael exists in opposites. He's unpredictable and his actions and mannerisms are almost completely dependent on his mood. You might live another day if he just can't bring himself to give a fuck.
Conversely, you might find yourself hunted down to the ends of the earth, all because you caught him on an off mood. Sam doesn't think twice about murder. Ending a human life is no different from stepping on a bug. However, what makes Samael so frightening is that he is capable of carrying out the worst atrocities as casually as you might cash a check. He's been known to try to share a joke, while holding some poor guy at wand point and was even reported to offer an 'interrogation' (read 'torture”) victim a cigarette- Before jamming the hot end into the fellow's eye. It's hard to tell if his smooth-talking, carefree attitude is an act (Seriously, it's obvious there's something incredibly wrong with the guy). Sam tends to have the look to him as if he's constantly mocking you behind that shark-like grin of his. Like he's privy to some joke that you're missing out on.
Or....you know, he might actually enjoy being a crazy, sadistic bastard....
That's a possibility too.
Sam never finished his wizarding education, but he's managed to do pretty well for himself on shrewd, calculating intelligence. He's a smart guy, even if he doesn't always let on to it. He speaks German almost as well as English ('Specially the swears) and can hold his own in a duel, despite often facing opponents who've had the luxury of graduating from some magical institute. Sam's intelligence is probably his greatest strength. People tend to overestimate him for his wise-cracking, 'laissez-faire' attitude, which is usually why Sam puts on such an 'airy' facade. It's all about human nature, and the tendency of others to judge people as they see them. Really handy, you know. If you act like an idiot, people will think they see an idiot... Conversely, if some hypothetical Mudblood where to pretend to fit in with all those pureblood elitists... Well, who would ask questions? It's all about perception. Understand that perception and you can easily manipulate people. Sam's favourite pass time, by the way. He enjoys being in power, he relishes the feeling of control. And there is nothing Sam hates more than being robbed of that- Of being the manipulated or the controlled. He refuses to be used.

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WHEN YOU BLESS THE DAY
the history
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mother, Helena Fisher, Deceased
father, Wilhelm Nacht, Deceased
siblings,

Mikhail Nacht, Deceased
Azrael Nacht, 21 (?)

extended family, N/A
others of importance, N/A
overall history,

Samael's past is a well kept secret, known to only two living people; Himself and the baby brother he left behind after he murdered his parents at the age of 15 and escaped overseas, dodging the arm of the law. He never did find out what happened to Azrael. Honestly, Sam couldn't care less. He doesn't have fond memories of his family, and Az is as good as dead to him. But, we're getting ahead of ourselves...

To anyone who asks, Sam will tell you that he grew up north of New York, where he spent most of his early youth. He got sick and tired of the American Dream and a country where muggleborns and half bloods were held on the same step as the old, established pureblooded families, and left for his family's native country of Germany, where these things were a little more...established. Eventually, he found his way to London, where he got into his 'Business', building up his list of contacts in the underworld, until word of the Dark Lord's rise to power prompted him to join along 'for the kicks'. This edited version is designed to be purposely vague and misleading, and it's lucky for Sam that there is, in fact, a well-known family named 'Nacht', living in up-state New York. The fact that the last of this prestigious wizarding family has recently kicked the bucket, makes it all the more easier to hold up the lie to scrutiny.

In reality, Sam was born to Helena and Wilhelm Nacht on November 1st, 1972. Helena and Wilhelm were muggles, both devout Catholics living in a small, old fashioned town some ways south of Boston. They were strict, unforgiving parents, or so Sam remembers. Even before he started showing signs of magic, life was tough under the unrelenting hand of the Nachts. The slightest disobedience was punished with harsh words and even harsher lectures of an eternity of damnation and a God who wouldn't think twice of smiting 'naughty, undeserving young boys'. But life was more or less bearable, so long as he toed that narrow narrow line of obedience.
Everything changed with his first spark of magic.

Sam had been ecstatic when he first found out he could make objects move without even touching them. It had never occurred to him that his 'power' was something to fear. It just came naturally, and as a result, he thought it was something everyone could do. One day, he was sitting at the kitchen table, and out of nowhere he made the cookbook sitting on the table take flight across the room. He thought it was an accomplishment and even said as much to his mother. “Look, ma, Look!” And she did look, her jaw dropping straight to the floor, as she let out an ungodly scream. Apparently, his was a talent that was not common among four year olds. His parents were convinced he'd been possessed by some sort of demon and got him to work on a harsh cycle of cleansing. A priest came to the house every day and threw holy water at him. He was confined to his room, given little more than bread to eat and water to drink. Every time he showed the slightest sign of magic, his parents yelled and railed as if the earth was splitting open beneath him and he was locked away for even longer.

Eventually, the Priest came to the decision that Samael was not possessed. However, his powers didn't go away and with no other way to explain it, his parents came to the conclusion that a demon had taken over their son's soul. Their methods of 'cleansing' pretty much involved beatings and verbal abuse, along with hours upon painful hours of being forced to kneel in front of a wooden cross 'praying for the deliverance of his soul'. Sam couldn't help the magic... He remembered trying very hard to keep it inside, but it was a thing beyond his control. Eventually, he gave up on trying. In fact, he grew to crave that little bit of chaos a flying book seemed to instigate. It was the only way he knew of hitting back. Despite the severe punishments, Sam grew to cherish that spark of fear and terror he saw every time his parents witnessed him practicing magic. And when the letter came, for the Salem Institute... It was the greatest day of his life! Hah, the looks on their faces, when they all found out he was a full blown wizard? It was worth it...definitely worth the increased frequency of their abuse.

Sam was a lonely child. Outside of the companionship of his two younger brothers, he didn't have anyone his age to play with. After all, small towns liked to gossip and their resident priest, the bastard in charge of his 'exorcism', tended to forget the sanctity of confession when he got a little too close to the bottle. The Nacht family was already barely tolerated for being German, and Catholic to boot. Sam was therefore looked upon like some twisted thing out of a nightmare. Kids taunted him, threw things at him... He ended up making a game out of it, often goading them on until one got close and snap- He'd lunge and give the little snot the beating of his life. Sometimes the fights ended the other way around, but regardless of the outcome, the children of the town grew to have a healthy fear of him. He rather liked that. He was beginning to see the merits of being feared.

Mikhail's death, as you know, happened when Sam was 14. There was an investigation into the incident, by the United States Department of Magic, but the tragedy was labeled an accident and aside from cold, solitary three days in a dank, dark cell (god knows where), Sam was released back into the custody of his parents. Big mistake. The death of their beloved angel, the only 'normal' child they had, seemed to be the last straw for Mom and Dad. They were actually forced to take him back, 'until suitable arrangements could be made', or so they were told. Evidently the DoM believed that the Nacht household was not safe for the two budding wizards living within its walls. The 'suitable arrangements' that were mentioned, however, never came. A year later, Sam was still living under his mother and father's roof. It was a cold January night when he murdered Helena and Wilhelm Nacht. There was no reason for it (unless you count 15 years of his life as reason enough). He was simply tired of them and they're tyranny. He decided he was sick of it. So he took a knife.... better not to use his wand, he decided, or the authority's would be on him in moments- He took the knife and waited until past midnight, when the house was quiet and they were sure to be asleep. He headed up to their room and opened the door. He crept in and sat there on the edge of the bed, spinning the knife in the moonlight as if contemplating what he was about to do...

He stabbed his father first. Bastard deserved every blow. The knife went in so effortlessly, that he swung it out and struck again, this time in the throat. That woke 'mother' up. Her eyes had gone so wide. Sam had expected to hear her scream, in all honesty, but she didn't. She looked like she was trying to speak, perhaps trying to recall a prayer. Didn't matter. He stabbed her too, alternating between both bodies, slashing until there was nothing but red everywhere. You know....you probably expect to feel something when you kill. Some bit of regret maybe. Some twinge of guilt. Sam, on the other hand, had never had so much fun. He found himself laughing as he carried out the task and when it was all over, he simply cleaned up the mess, packed up his bags and hit the road, a grin on his face and the greatest feeling of satisfaction in his heart. Sam followed the paper from that day on, as he made his way to New York. The double murder barely made headlines, covered up, he assumed, by the DoM who wished to do their own thing without interference from muggles.

Eventually, Sam made his way to Germany, where a chance meeting with an illegal dragon egg smuggler got him into 'the business'- the underworld of respectable wizarding society, run by gangs who dealt with everything from illegal potions to exotic creatures. Sam was well suited for the work. He was smooth and diplomatic when he needed to be, while still retaining a ruthless efficiency that has left more than one poor mug floating at the bottom of a river. Working in Germany was where he solidified his fabricated back story of the pureblood Nachts in upstate New York. It was easier to get things done, when people thought you had a hefty name to back you up. Besides, Sam liked the way some people tended to kick up the grovelling, just because they thought he was some high and mighty pureblood. It ended up becoming an inside joke, something known only to him. Lots of laughs to be had there. At he age of 22, Sam relocated his 'business' (After 7 years, he'd made a name for himself and had his own network of buyers and sellers. Things tend to get...bloody, when you reach that sort of position. After leaving behind a few dead bodies, he figured it was time he headed someplace new). He made for London, where he managed to strengthen the weakened underground crime ring, which put him in a pretty lofty position. But London was boring compared to Munich. Sure, you had the occasional tough guy who thought he could squeeze in on the set up Sam had created for himself, but they were usually shmucks... Pompous idiots, easily knocked under the rug by a quick Avada Kedavra. There was no challenge! So when some kid (Planter? Plotter? Starts with a P, he's sure of that much...) went and kicked the bucket, signaling the return of the “Dark Lord' (Little theatrical if you ask him. Might as well go with “Oh Mighty Wizard of Oz”. Seriously...) -
Well, Sam had no idea what the hell was going on, but it was interesting. Besides this Death Eater thing is turning out to be pretty good for business.

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I GET WINGS TO FLY
the player
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name/alias, Art
gender, Female
age, 20
contact, PM
other characters, Remus Lupin, 38
passwords, Flubberworm
experiance, a whiiiile
how you found us, Oh...uh...Check remmy's
roleplay sample. Check Rem's

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I CAN TOUCH THE SKY
the player
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this entire application was made by HARPER BELLE?! of caution. lyrics by celine dion, from her song 'i'm alive'. please do not steal. it's not nice, and there's no reason for it. if you do use this, please credit me!

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