Post by Raoul de Chagny on Apr 5, 2012 17:55:09 GMT -5
RAOUL DE CHAGNY
"If I don't save her from the hands of that humbug, she is lost. But I shall save her."
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Player Name: Mel
Years Roleplaying: 5
Gender: Female
Contact me: PM
Anything else?: Kristine made me do it! XD
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Basic Information
Age: 21
Canon or OC?: The Phantom of the Opera, Gaston Leroux, 1911[/size]
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Appearance
Body type: Raoul stands at an impressive 6’0”—however his height does nothing to make him seem more imposing. He is thin but somewhat muscular. He slouches, perhaps because of his shyness, and has a mild-mannered appearance. When he is angry, he tries to appear more intimidating. Not many people around him find his figure a particularly intimidating one, yet he is held in high esteem due to his title of Le Vicomte de Chagny ( or Comte, since his brother is deceased, which the young Comte is not aware of ). When he carries himself as such, the people around him submit to his authority.
Eye color: Raoul’s eyes are a deep, rich shade of royal blue. He rarely makes eye contact with people because of his sheepishness, but those who have seen the orbs would most likely describe them as shy but beautiful. There is also a sort of passionate determination in his gaze, as if he dreams of something that is unattainable. When he is struck with emotion, his eyes grow melancholy and shed tears. If happy, his eyes sparkle and dance like the waves of the sea.
Wardrobe: Raoul’s wardrobe is divided into three parts—daywear, eveningwear, and his naval uniforms. During the day, he wears casual cutaway coats, sack suits, frock suits, and smoking jackets—most of the colors black, grey, and blue—as well as colorful riding coats with white breeches. He tends to wear dress brogans or boots.
At night, the nobleman wears a black evening tailcoat with matching pants held up with suspenders, a white bowtie and waistcoat, and a plain, black overcoat or an opera cape. Atop his head he wears a black top hat.
His military dress uniform consists of a blue single breasted frock coat with a high gold gilded collar and gold epaulettes with matching trousers. His dress hat is a kepi, though he also owns a shako and a black chapeau. On board the ship, dress regulations are not as strict, so usually when he’s at sea he can be seen wearing the white shirt he was issued as well as the dark blue trousers with a stripe down the side, along with a white Marine Nationale cap.
General Appearance: Raoul is tall and lean with a swimmer’s physique. He has sandy, blonde hair that is styled neatly and occasionally falls over his forehead when not slicked back. His face is boyishly handsome, making him appear a bit younger than he is. He has a sort of delicate but charming quality to his face. He is clean shaven, save for the thin mustache that appears above his lips.
Played By:
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Personality
He is a very hard worker—whenever his is given a task he fully devotes his energy to it until it is finished. His comrades in the Marine Nationale recognize him as very diligent. After giving an order to his men, he works alongside them, whereas other officers would simply leave the hard work to their subordinates.
Despite his placid disposition, he can be assertive when the time calls. He treats his men kindly, but he also does not take offenses lightly. He inspires his men not to defy him, but on rare occasions that they do, he sees that justice is administered. For example, when a man stole from the ship cook, Raoul had the sailor locked in the brig for a few days as punishment. None of the mariners under his watch ever stole again. When he wants information or wants something done, he is quick to assert his authority over other people.
Whenever he has a goal, he will not rest until he achieves it. When he saw Christine at the Garnier, he was set upon meeting her again. He would attend each one of her performances in hopes that she would notice and remember him. Despite her constant attempts to keep him out of the loop, he has worked tirelessly to find out the identity of her strange ‘Angel of Music’, and to release her from whatever hold he has over her.
He can be very self-deprecating for the sake of his loved ones. When Philippe suggested that he pursue a career in the Navy, he did not protest. Obediently he left Paris for officer’s training, even though it probably meant that he would not see the girl that he had been in love with since his youth ever again. Like a lovesick puppy he pursued Christine, wanting so desperately to free her from the curse of the Phantom. If dying for her meant securing her freedom, then he would have gladly laid down his life.
He is fiercely jealous, and fears that Christine does love the Phantom. He does not want anyone or anything including Erik to come between them and their love.
Dreams and Goals:
1. His biggest priority is liberating Christine from this Angel fellow who has been haunting her for so long.
2. His second wish is that she would love him and that fate would allow them to spend the rest of their lives together as husband and wife.
3. Although unlikely, he wishes that his family would approve of their union.
Strengths:
1. He is resolute, persistent, and headstrong, and will not give up in his endeavors.
2. He has an eye for details, and is very intelligent.
3. He is an excellent shot with the revolver.
4. He is a strong and skilled swimmer.
Weaknesses: 1. He can be very indecisive, and sometimes hesitant to stand up for himself.
2. His shyness can distance him from other people, hence why he does not have too terribly many friends.
3. His jealousy can lead to anger, which clouds his thinking.
4. He is quite impulsive at times, which under certain circumstances can be life-endangering.
Fears: 1. He fears losing Christine more than anything. Specifically, he is afraid that either she will agree to stay with the Phantom forever or that the man will kidnap her he will never be able to find her.
2. His second fear is that the Opera Ghost will never be apprehended, and that—even if he frees Christine from his grasp—he will follow them wherever they go.
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The Past
Comtesse Marie de Chagny, originally de Moerogis de La Martyniere, mother ( deceased )
Comte Philippe Georges Marie de Chagny, brother, ( deceased )
Gabrielle and Madeline, sisters, 30 and 34
History: Raoul was born in the 7th arrondissement of Paris in 1864. His mother died soon after his birth; so consequentially he never knew her. Instead he was ‘mothered’ by his older sisters, with whom he was very close. He was raised by a governess, and rarely saw his father except at dinner. His brother—although he did not spend time with him as much as he did with his sisters—treated him compassionately, and often gave him advice whether he liked it or not. Nevertheless Raoul was very fond of his brother, and vice versa.
He adored his father as well, and made every effort to please him in his studies as a young boy. As a reward his father gave him gifts and spoiled him with anything his little heart desired. Chief of these was the pocket watch that he carried on his person up until a recent incident at the Palais Garnier. His father died soon after he presented him with the gift, which devastated the young man. Philippe took on the role of head of the Chagny estate, and also the role of rearing the young Vicomte. Like his father, he spoiled the child in an attempt to keep him happy. Even though he was blessed with many things, the child was lonely, as although his sisters and brother treated him well, they really were not in effect his friends—they were all significantly older than him, and rarely had time to humor him for a game.
That all changed one day when he and his sisters were staying in Lannion with his aunt. He was walking along the beach with his governess when he heard a beautiful voice singing to the tune of a song being played on a violin. His governess asked him if he was ready to go inside, and he shook his head vehemently, following the marvelous sound. The girl who was singing was no older than he was, probably a few years younger, with hair of sunshine gold and pretty blue eyes. Even then he was quite taken with her. However his joy was short-lived when her song ceased as soon as the wind ripped her scarf from her neck. The little girl began to cry, and surging forward he dashed after the scarf amid the stern cries of his governess. Emerging from the sea soaking wet, he triumphantly handed the red scarf back to its owner. The girl laughed and kissed him, and it was on that day that he met Christine Daaé.
From that day forward, the pair were inseparable. They became the best of friends, and could often be caught running around the estate at Lannion together, or at the beach in Perros-Guirec playing in the surf. At the same time Raoul was taught how to play the violin by Christine’s father, an accomplished musician. He caught on quickly and took quite a liking to both music and the instrument, another thing he had in common with the girl. Their favorite thing to do was listening to stories, and would travel from door to door in the town to ask for a tale, and most of the time they received one. Their favorite legend was that of Little Lotte and the Angel of Music, as told by Christine’s father. The way he described the character of Lotte reminded Raoul very much of Christine.
When he left Lannion, they did not see each other for another three years. However every day of those three years he was reminded of the girl with hair like the sun and eyes like the sea. He sometimes spoke of her to his family—his sisters would simply smile and listen, but there was also a bit of concern behind the way they regarded him when he spoke of the girl. His brother—although he attempted to hide his contempt for the idea of a Chagny being in love with a peasant girl—was a bit more obvious in his disapproval. He persuaded Raoul to go into a career in the navy, as their ancestor Admiral Chagny de la Roche had done. The boy loved the sea, and would no doubt be good at such a thing. Through his connections with some of the big wigs of the Marine Nationale, the Comte was able to arrange for the boy to be taken aboard the Borda, a training ship used by the French Navy, to complete an instructional school in order to become an officer. When finished, he would receive the rank of midshipman.
The boy made one request to go see Miss Daaé before leaving, which Philippe happily granted, as he figured that since he was going into the navy that would be the end of it. Instead it became one of the turning points of the Vicomte’s life. He remembered the day quite well. He went to Perros, to the very house where they used to hear her father’s stories. Upon seeing her, he was filled with both joy and sadness, and it was a wonder he didn’t weep at the sight of her, knowing that he would have to leave her again. They sat in the garden and spoke about a great many things—how much had happened in the three years since they had met, as well as what lay in store for their respective futures. However the one subject he would not go near was how he felt about her. He didn’t know what it was, which was why he said nothing of it. However it was the last gesture he gave her that solidified his fate. When it came time for him to go, he kissed her and promised that he would never forget her.
He was filled with dread and guilt—he would, of course, have to forget her in order to move on with his life. He could not marry her. Philippe and his sisters would disapprove, and such a thing was unheard of—he was the Vicomte de Chagny. He was destined to marry a noblewoman, someone from a much more respectable family. However even back then he knew that he did not want to marry a noblewoman. He didn’t know what he wanted, but it wasn’t that.
In an attempt to soothe his mind, he hurled himself into his studies aboard the Borda. But still he often dreamt and thought of Christine, and seeing her again, though he knew that this would never happen. However it was thoughts of her that kept him happy, as he would often reminisce of the time they had spent together in Perros as children.
Raoul easily passed his examinations and received the rank of midshipman. For six years he traveled the globe, seeing new sights and sounds unlike those of Paris. He visited North Africa, Asia, and tropical islands. He enjoyed his many adventures, but he was never truly happy. Finally his journey came to an end, and he returned to his home in Paris on furlough. His brother had, through his influence as Le Comte de Chagny, gotten him assigned to an expedition to the Arctic Circle. He had six months’ leave to spend as he saw fit. Philippe was intent on taking his younger brother around Paris and showing him off at social functions.
On one occasion, his brother took him to the opera house. It was in his brother’s box that he saw his childhood friend once more. He was struck by how beautiful she was, as well as how charming her voice sounded. As soon as the performance ended, he tried to follow her to the wings of the stage, hoping that she would notice him. Constantly he would attempt to catch her eye, to no avail. He didn’t know how to approach her, as he wanted more than anything to declare his love for her, but didn’t for fear of rejection. He did not even want to call it love. He couldn’t love an opera singer. Yet he did—very ardently.
It was at the gala performance that he finally realized this. The gala was held by Messieurs Debienne and Poligny, the Opera’s managers, in honor of their retirement. Christine took the sick La Carlotta’s place and sang the prison scene and ending of Faust, stunning and thrilling him with her seraphic voice. He was perhaps the loudest person applauding, but he soon fell silent and grew pallid when she began to cry and fainted. He suggested to his brother that they go see what had happened, and Philippe obliged. Upon reaching her dressing room, the Vicomte ordered everyone else save for the doctor and maid out. When the singer came to, he identified himself as the boy who had rescued her scarf all those years ago. To his surprise and dismay, she simply laughed at him and asked to be left alone. The young man’s spirit was crushed—at least until he realized that the reason she wanted to be alone may be so that she could have a private audience with him.
Grinning, he turned around and headed back to her door, but froze when he heard the voice of a man begging Christine to love him. He pressed his back to the door and listened desperately. Retreating to a corner when he heard movement, he watched as Christine left the room, walking right past him, and then surged over to the door and demanded the man show himself and face him. There was no answer, so he opened the door and found no one there. Feeling shaken but silly, he decided to go home, but not before learning of the death of Joseph Buquet.
He tried in vain to meet the opera singer again, and was hopelessly moping about the manor when he received her letter informing him that she did indeed remember him, and that she was going to Perros-Guirec to visit her father’s grave. He hurried to the train station, and took the evening train to Perros. When they met again at the Setting Sun, he confessed his love for her. She laughed again, which hurt him, but there was something in her eyes—a fondness perhaps, but also a sadness that he could not pretend to understand. He demanded to know why she had lied to him, and then brought up the voice of the man he had heard. At that point she asked him what else he knew, and he recounted all that he had heard. She then began to cry, and he tried to comfort her, but she flew from his arms before he could.
He went to the graveyard to pay his respects to the late violinist, and encountered the Swedish singer again. She explained to him that the man was her Angel of Music, which he didn’t believe for a second, and replied that he thought that someone was playing a trick on her. She seemed to take offense at this and ran away from him yet again. Later that night, he was sitting in his room when he heard the door to Christine’s room open. Curious, he waited until she had gone past his room and stepped outside. He followed her to the churchyard, and watched in silence as she knelt at her father’s grave. Suddenly the silence was broken by the sound of a violin playing The Resurrection of Lazarus, one of the pieces Monsieur Daaé was fond of playing. He looked around wildly for the musician, and saw a shadow near a pile of bones. The shadow tried to enter the church, but the Vicomte grabbed his cape to stop him. The man whirled around and the young man paled—for it was as if he were staring into the eyes of the devil himself. He fell unconscious, and when he woke up he was in his room at the Setting Sun, obviously carried back from the churchyard.
From then on, the Vicomte was determined to learn the identity of the man whom Christine had spoken to, but time and time again she refused him. They had fleeting meetings in which he hoped that she would tell him the truth—the entire truth—but was in the end foiled. At the masked ball which Christine had requested for him to meet her at, he did learn that the man’s name was Erik from a conversation he heard within her dressing room. When he tried to interfere, the man began singing, and Raoul was so surprised at the beauty of his voice that he did not have enough time to react as Christine seemed to walk straight through a mirror. He panicked, as he had no idea where she had gone, or by whom she had been spirited away. All he knew was that she had called the man “Poor Erik”.
On another such meeting at the house of Mamma Valérius, he learned that she had been given a wedding ring. He was appalled and angered at this, and demanded to know if she had agreed to marry the man who had seduced her with his voice. She snubbed his question of the man’s identity, and he then revealed that he knew the man’s name. She urged him to forget everything he had heard, and then made him promise not to try and find her unless she sent for him. Reluctantly he agreed.
The next day they reunited at the opera house. He broached the subject of his impending expedition, saying that he had three weeks left of freedom before he had to leave. He asked her if she would wait for him, to which she replied that they could never wed. However she would agree to a secret engagement.
Eventually atop the roof of the Garnier she told him all she knew of the opera ghost—Erik, and how he had taught her to become a better singer. She explained how he had lured her beneath the opera house and pledged his love to her. She had seen his horrid face, and the man had demanded that she marry him. The way she spoke of him began to worry him, and he asked bitterly if she loved him. She answered that this was not the case, and that really she was afraid of him. Raoul then suggested that they run away as soon as possible, to which she agreed to do after letting Erik hear her last performance.
That very night Raoul thought that he had heard something on his balcony. He could have sworn he had seen two eyes. Thinking they belonged to the Phantom, he grabbed his revolver and fired, hoping to end their predicament once and for all. Philippe came running of course, and, thinking him mad, took the revolver from him and demanded an explanation. Raoul then told him what he believed he had seen, and what his intentions were. Philippe of course disapproved of the elopement, and the very next day Raoul’s plans were leaked to the press to his despair. However he was still determined to go through with the marriage, regardless of whatever his brother thought since he was certain that he loved Christine.
However his plans were thwarted at the performance of Faust. The lights dimmed and suddenly Christine disappeared from the stage. He inquired as to her whereabouts, and no one could give him an answer. It was while he was wandering the theater aimlessly that he was summoned by the commissary of police for questioning. As he was about to enter the room, a man with ebony skin told him enigmatically, “Erik’s secrets concern no one but himself!” before disappearing.
However Raoul hid nothing from the commissary. He insisted that Christine had been carried off by the Angel of Music, who was the same person as both Erik and the Phantom of the Opera. He knew that the police most likely thought him mad, but he continued to maintain that the man had kidnapped Christine. The commissary then said that Philippe was the one who had taken Christine—believing his words to be true, Raoul hastened after his brother.
Before he could reach him, he was stopped by the ebony-skinned man who introduced himself as the Persian. His brother had mentioned him once, but what he did not know until now was that he knew of Erik. The man then proceeded to lead him through the mirror, which acted as a revolving door, to the cellars of the opera house. The two were armed with pistols in case a fight should break out. Although Raoul had just met the man, he trusted him, since he seemed honest in his wanting to stop Erik—not to mention the fact that he needed him to find Christine. The whole way down he kept ordering him to keep his hand at the level of his eyes, which Raoul confusedly obeyed.
The man took him through a hole in the wall of one of the cellars, and had planned for the both of them to drop directly into Erik’s house. However they had been outwitted, and instead of dropping into the house they dropped into a torture chamber. As soon as they had, Raoul wanted to cry out for his lover, but the Persian stopped him, as he heard Erik speaking. The man was begging Christine to marry him. There was no reply. Suddenly there was a ring, and Erik stated that there was someone at the door. Thinking that Christine was alone, he finally made himself known, calling her name. Upon hearing him she informed him that Erik planned to blow ‘everyone’ to smithereens if she did not marry him. He had given her a time limit—until eleven o’clock the next evening—to make her choice. They asked her to open the door, but she couldn’t since Erik had tied her up after she attempted suicide.
She tried to free them, but Erik caught up to her, and without thinking Raoul cried out in fury. The Phantom heard him, and then filled the chamber with nearly blinding light. He ordered Christine to tell him if anyone was there, to which she answered negatively. Soon after that, to the Vicomte’s anger and anguish he dragged her away. Hearing her speak had been the only thing keeping him sane. The room was a huge optical illusion. It appeared to be an endless forest, but in reality it was just a room filled with mirrors that was shaped like a hexagon. He did not know how long he wandered about that room, screaming the name of his love in hopes that she would answer, waving his pistol in the air and banging his hands against the walls. He wanted to die—if he did, at least it would be in an attempt to save her. He could not think of a death more honorable than that.
Sometimes he thought he saw her behind a tree, and he ran to the mirage, beaming, only to find that she was only a figment of his imagination. At one point he thought he heard a lion, so he fired his pistol, shattering a mirror. Somehow the room changed from a forest to a desert. He could swear he heard the sound of animals all around him, and said as much to the Persian, who explained that—as a master ventriloquist—Erik was merely imitating the sounds of these animals.
The room was hot and stuffy, and he thought that he was going to die of thirst until he heard the sound of water. He sprinted toward it despite the Persian’s increasingly inane warnings. Opening his mouth, he tried to drink the water to no avail, as there was no water. He had been fooled yet again by the Phantom’s tricks. He tried to lick a mirror, which burned his tongue. Frustrated and devoid of any hope, he decided to end his life then and there. With a trembling hand he raised the revolver to his head, but was immediately stopped by the Persian. He found a hole of sorts in the floor below an iron tree. They made their way into a cellar and found a large concentration of barrels. The Vicomte thought that he heard singing coming from the barrels, and the duo opened up one of them to find that it was filled with gunpowder. The fiend planned to blow up the Paris Grand Opera if Christine refused his proposal.
The two tried to make their way back into the torture chamber. Raoul yelled for Christine once again in futility. This seemed to go on for hours until the Persian quieted him, and he heard that sweet voice again. All at once it was as if his strength had returned. It was five minutes until eleven, and Erik had told her that she would either have to turn the bronze scorpion, meaning she had said yes to his proposal, or the bronze grasshopper, meaning she had refused. After listening to her anecdote he insisted that she turn the scorpion. If she refused, then they all would die, including her—however that did not mean he would not fight for her. There was no way he was going to let this man get away with this. Though it looked as if Erik won either way she chose, Raoul was not going to give up that easily. He was going to say as much when the Persian interrupted him, suggesting that it may be a trap. He was about to reply when Erik returned. He ordered her to make her choice, and there was a deathly silence. Struck with fear, the Vicomte knelt and began reciting a few Hail Marys.
He continued to pray even as he heard his beloved and that vile monster speak. But then he ceased when Christine announced that she had turned the scorpion. At that point he heard water rushing toward them. Ravenously he scooped the liquid up in his hands and began to drink, the cool fluid soothing his parched throat. He assumed the water was to wash away the gunpowder, and expected it to stop soon—but it didn’t. Soon the level rose to his knees, and his chest, and finally he began to tread to stay afloat. He kept this up for a few minutes before going under and losing consciousness.
RP Sample
[/size][/center]The scorpion… He looked up in horror when he heard her pronounce the word. Then his life was over. He wanted her to live, he so desperately wanted her to live, which was why he had begged her to choose just this, but by saving the opera house and all in it she gave up her freedom. I must get up there… he thought determinedly. I must stop him. They had been wandering around this place for at least a day trying to do just that, but this time he must succeed or he would lose her forever
The Vicomte stood up, shaking, as he took a step forward. But then he halted. There was something gushing toward them at an alarming rate… “Water! Water, monsieur!” he cried suddenly, kneeling down as the flood reached his ankles. The Persian was beside him, drinking like one who had been dying of thirst—which they both may have had the water not appeared. Wave after wave crashed into the chamber, and he continued to drink until he had had his fill.
The water did not stop. A blonde eyebrow raised in confusion as he turned around to face the Persian. What was Erik trying to do? She had done as he had asked, and the gunpowder was no doubt washed away by now. Was he trying to…to drown us! Wasn’t that he wanted? Death? Perhaps he had a few hours ago, but not now, not when there was a chance. But there wasn’t a chance—she was his, once again.
“Christine!” he shouted, his voice cracking as he clawed at the walls, trying to find a way out. “Christine!” he repeated desperately, slamming his fists against the unrelenting stone. The water crashed against his back, soaking his clothes and hair, but he didn’t seem to feel it. If he was going to die, he wanted to at least free her from this demon. Where was his revolver? It probably would not function anymore because of the water…he needed to be able to defeat that monster when they came face-to-face. “Christine!” he cried a third time, his bloodied hands continuing to beat against the wall. He fell back into the water, swimming around as he tried urgently to find a way out. He continued hitting stones, and grabbing at the walls to no avail. Finally the waves overtook him, and the Vicomte sunk into a state of oblivion.
The Vicomte stood up, shaking, as he took a step forward. But then he halted. There was something gushing toward them at an alarming rate… “Water! Water, monsieur!” he cried suddenly, kneeling down as the flood reached his ankles. The Persian was beside him, drinking like one who had been dying of thirst—which they both may have had the water not appeared. Wave after wave crashed into the chamber, and he continued to drink until he had had his fill.
The water did not stop. A blonde eyebrow raised in confusion as he turned around to face the Persian. What was Erik trying to do? She had done as he had asked, and the gunpowder was no doubt washed away by now. Was he trying to…to drown us! Wasn’t that he wanted? Death? Perhaps he had a few hours ago, but not now, not when there was a chance. But there wasn’t a chance—she was his, once again.
“Christine!” he shouted, his voice cracking as he clawed at the walls, trying to find a way out. “Christine!” he repeated desperately, slamming his fists against the unrelenting stone. The water crashed against his back, soaking his clothes and hair, but he didn’t seem to feel it. If he was going to die, he wanted to at least free her from this demon. Where was his revolver? It probably would not function anymore because of the water…he needed to be able to defeat that monster when they came face-to-face. “Christine!” he cried a third time, his bloodied hands continuing to beat against the wall. He fell back into the water, swimming around as he tried urgently to find a way out. He continued hitting stones, and grabbing at the walls to no avail. Finally the waves overtook him, and the Vicomte sunk into a state of oblivion.
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