Henri Trunk Coding

[quote][quote][table][tr][td][b]Broom Racer? [color=#ffffff]NO[/color][/b][/td]

[td][b]Quidditch Player? [color=#ffffff]YES[/color][/td]

[td][b]Duelist? [color=#ffffff]NO[/color][/b][/td][/tr][/table][/quote]

[quote][b]Stats:[/b]
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[center][b][i]STA : 6 | EVA : 7 | STR: 5 | WIS : 8 | ARC : 6 | ACC : 8[/i][/b][/center]
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[quote][b]Abilities: [center][i][size=150][color=#ffffff]LOVELY CREATURE[/color][/size][/i][/center][/b]
[reducio]For as long as Henri could remember, people had always gushed about how his looks were divine or how one day, he would undoubtably grow up to break many hearts of both men and women. He had never failed to notice how his caretakers would whisper amongst themselves in the halls of the grandiose [i]Château de Bourbon[/i] about his ethereal traits. [i]'Sa beauté est ravissant, même à son jeune âge,'[/i] they would say. [i]'C'est de la famille, sûrement. Il l'a hérité de sa mère.'(*)[/i]

When Henri had been old enough to understand what they mean, he'd spent a full hour staring at the mirror in his quarters and had acknowledge their words had all been true. He had been only eight then, but he could see how his ashy blond locks would shimmer like golden threads and how his grey eyes shone like jewelry in the light. Although he did not possess Veela blood, one could almost mistake him to be one at first glance. Deep down, Henri did not rejoice at this fact for all of these attractive features belonged to a mother who did not love him. Juliette Marie de Bourbon had given her son everything but maternal affection, as she should have. But all would be fine, Henri had thought darkly to himself in the sanctuary of his bedroom. Because beauty was a powerful weapon, and the young Bourbon Heir would harness it to perfection and use it to his advantage in the future.

True to his conviction, the blond-haired little boy had begun taking care of his appearance more and observe other beautiful individuals to improve what was necessary. For someone so young, nobody had suspected he'd been more mature in his mind then he'd seemed. Henri would meticulously style his hair in the mornings, carefully pick out clothes that would compliment his complexion the most, spend a reasonably amount of time under the sun as to not appear sickly pale, and respect a religious diet that would allow him to maintain a healthy and pleasing form from body to skin. The boy had learnt to smile more, even if they'd been as fake as the positive and disarming emotions he'd force onto his face to charm other people.

This had continued on until he'd turned 11, and Henri had found all of his effort hadn't gone to waste. It was the day when he'd be escorted to [i]L'Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons[/i], and as soon as he'd stepped foot in Cannes and witnessed many heads turning around twice to get a better look at him as he'd passed by. Some of the girls had even been blatantly staring, and blushed bright red when he'd innocently flashed them a practiced dazzling smile full of perfectly white teeth. As the Bourbon Heir bid one of his caretakers goodbye and climbed on the Abraxan carriage, Henri's smile had morphed into something more gleefully malignant--momentarily twisting his beautiful features. Perhaps, if there was one single thing he would be grateful to his useless [i]Mère[/i] for, it was giving him the most dangerous weapon of all.
[quote][b][i][right]WC: 515[/right][/b](*)[revelio][i]His beauty is delightful, even at his young age. It certainly runs in the family. He inherited it from his mother.[/i][/revelio][/i][/quote][/reducio][/quote]
[quote][center][size=150][i][color=#ffffff][b]CHARMER[/b][/color][/i][/size][/center]
[reducio]Henri knew that only good looks alone did not suffice to get him far into the world, especially not within the competitive and cutthroat Pureblood community. The scramble for the top of the food chain was arduous and the young de Bourbon Heir understood at once that the fastest way to climb the ladder was with the right words and the right attitude.

The ethereal beauty he'd inherited from [i]Mère[/i] which made people turn their heads to get a second better look at him served both as a base and an advantage.

Since he'd started his first year at Beauxbatons, Henri had learnt quickly that he should make use of the attention he seized from other at a first glance and put himself out there to communicate with people. After all, being seen as the person to initiate a conversation always proved to be an excellent first impression. Everybody was already enthralled by his practiced handsome smile and as soon as the compliments began tumbling from his lips, they were already wrapped around his finger. Henri always said what people wanted to hear, not what they should be told. He knew how to appeal to a an arrogant man's ego, or to praise a conceited woman's narcissism.

The young French upped his acting even more around professors at [i]L'Académie,[/i] always addressing them with a disarming smile accompanied with the utmost respectful behaviour. He never acted out of line and his outstanding grades only served to earn their favour even quicker. With his peers, Henri knew when to offer sympathy and when to offer his trust--even if it was all just an elaborate plan to subtly coerce them into his entourage. He made sure to display himself as someone friendly and extraverted, allowing the other students to have the illusion that he was approachable and trustworthy. Some of them especially adored his flirtatious remarks spoken with a silky purr, and Henri never corrected the gossiping for it was the perfect boost to his charismatic personality.

Even if he was a secretly vain person, Henri always reminded himself to remain as humble as possible without crossing the line of low self-esteem. People naturally appreciated those who knew their places, especially when they believed themselves to be superior than him--whether the silly thought was true or not. It added more to his charm, he mused, and always responded to compliments directed at him with a modest laugh, even though he silently scoffed at their attempt to get in his good graces. Body language was also a weapon Henri had mastered perfectly--a deferential tip of the head when talking to upperclassmen or adults, attentive gazes with witty humour when conversing with his 'friends', carefree gestures to lure others into a sense of security around him.

All in all, Henri had learnt the art of charming deception.
[quote][right][i][b]WC: 472[/b][/i][/right][/quote][/reducio][/quote][/quote]