╰ °✧ that’s AMYCUS CARROW and HE seems to look a lot like JASON RALPH. according to ministry files, the PUREBLOOD used to attend HOGWARTS and be in SLYTHERIN. now, they’re 25 and is an UNSPEAKABLE. A childlike rage and a childlike loneliness, the hushed quiet of hospital wards, a fine line between madness and genius, the sickly sweet smell of rot , a slowly unravelling thread, the endless ticking of a clock, are the best way to describe them. it doesn’t say in their file, but word around the street is that they’re a DEATH EATER. @mmprophet
introduction.
basics.
NAME: Amycus Cyrus Carrow AGE: 25 BIRTHDAY: January 13th. (Capricorn.) PRONOUNS: he/his BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood. CAREER: Unspeakable. Employed by the Department of Mysteries, on the surface Amycus largely concerns himself with the studies of Thought, Space and Time. Considering the black mark on his schooling records and unsociable demeanour, it’s almost a miracle that the Ministry had ever hired him - in this matter it’s highly likely that strings were pulled to ease his way in and nobody really knows what they do down there in the Department of Mysteries. Most of the ministry employees are just grateful they don’t have to encounter him very often. EDUCATION: Hogwarts WAND: Pine, 11 3/4″, Dragon Heartstring. PATRONUS: Amycus cannot, and is unlikely to ever, form a corporeal patronus. If he could it would be a Raven. Frequently associated with loss and ill omens, Ravens surface throughout many mythologies spreading prophecy and insight, carrying the messages of gods. There’s a mysterious quality to the raven, they can be charismatic when they require something of you and excellent at hiding themselves when they don’t want to be seen. Greedy and vain. Curious and yearning for freedom. They are observers who only step into the light when it is to their advantage. BOGGART: It’s the smell that comes first — damp earth, rotting leaves, the slimy new growth of those old woods, milky earthworms writing through freshly turned soil. It’s thick and cloying, suffocating in the dark. Then the weight of it, soft at first, spilling across his skin. Each shovel full growing heavier and heavier as he sinks in, deeper and deeper into the earth, in amidst the roots of the trees that gleam white like bone. It’s hard to see in the dark but he knows who it is who holds the shovel, who takes his time to slowly fill the grave that Amycus’s own clawing fingers can’t seem to catch a grip on, to climb out of. His father still cuts the imposing figure he had when Amycus was just a child. This is what happens to blood traitors. Even after all this time, their father’s shadow looms large over him. more ABOUT.
summary.
+ The Carrows were sickly children, forever in and out of St. Mungo’s with some mysterious illness or the other for most of their childhood. Whilst their father had seemed largely indifferent to their suffering, their mother had been utterly enamoured with it (too enamoured, some might think.) Attention had always been scarce for Peony after her marriage, one almost couldn’t blame her for enjoying the sympathy that her poorly children brought to her. (Though they couldn’t certainly blame her for the poison she slipped into their cups.) + The twins were mismatching bookends; Alecto overflowing with every kind of feeling and Amycus devoid of any of it, but they were all the company each other had growing up. They relied on each other, in their own way, an understanding born through a tumultuous childhood. + They were expelled from Hogwarts in a scandalous fashion in their Sixth year after a long string of unproven accidents culminated in the pair being caught red-handed (literally) in one of their games. Their wands were broken, they were expelled, and it cost a great deal of social capital on the family name to get the decision overturned and to allow them to be packed off to Durmstrang for the rest of their education. + Amycus had loathed Durmstrang. Sometimes he thinks he can still feel the cold of that place in his bones. Never mistaken as an overly sociable person, his isolation there had only served to further entrench him in his sour dislike of social situations.
+ He now works in the Department of Mysteries and when spotted out and about he frequently seems distracted and out of sorts. + There are very few people in the world that Amycus will willingly spend time with, which is why it had been so odd when he’d gone and picked up a friend, seemingly out of nowhere. One day he had been her brother, the person he’d always been, and the next he had been her brother - someone who befriended women named Lucy in the breakroom. Alecto had been deeply suspicious of the woman who wanted to be her brother’s ‘friend’ from the get-go, intent on discovering the agenda behind it, a suspicion that had only grown further the more that Amycus grew attached. When his friend had abruptly disappeared, in the manner that a great many people were disappearing these days, only to be found dead some weeks later and half her family with her, it had seemed a little too coincidental for Amycus to believe that Alecto had nothing to do with it. He hasn’t confirmed his suspicions, but there’s definitely an edge to his interactions with his sister lately.
personality traits.
+ Intelligent - Amycus has always lived in a world of his own. What he lacks in emotional awareness and a distinct inability to decipher what other people want or expect from him, he has always equalled in cleverness. He absorbs information like a sponge and retains it with an almost eerie degree of accuracy. Books were his solace growing up and he seems to always have one on hand. + Innovative - An adaptive thinker with a particular talent for problem solving, Amycus’s booksmarts transfer into practical application. He is good at coming up with new ways of applying what he has learnt and adapting his knowledge to fit the situation. + Focused - There is a laser precision to Amycus’s focus when he becomes interested in something. Dissuading him from a task once he has set his mind to it is nigh on impossible, to the point where most people who have come to know him understand that it is better to just let him get on with it. + Meticulous - A perfectionist at heart, Amycus is fastidious when it comes to attention to detail. He is clinical in his approach to life, sharp and incisive and never willing to let the smallest of details go. + Composed - For such an agitated mind, filled with nervous tics and idiosyncrasies, Amycus has a rarely disturbed composure. While the world rages around him he remains calm and measured. It had once been his greatest asset, the ability to remain steady in his path when the rest of the world unhinged itself, but these days his composure seems to fail him more and more often and in a world that requires restraint, he wonders where his own continues to disappear to. - Shy - Amycus always struggled with socialisation. He tries, of course, with the same uneasy yearning he’s never been able to shake that demands people acknowledge his gifts, but he has always been odd, unsettling to the people around him. He might blame it on his mother, for his isolated childhood, or his sister who he had learned quickly would not be an easy companion, or his father’s cowering temper, or perhaps on his peers at Hogwarts and later Durmstrang who had been unnerved by him and his strange mannerisms, but the truth of it all is that there is no one to blame except for himself. Amycus does not socialise well and has learned, by and large, to keep to himself to avoid the censure that often follows his attempts to reach out to others. - Impressionable - People have always been fond of considering him weak-willed, but Amycus has simply always been easily influenced. He’d wondered once if it was the apathy that fills him that makes it so, that he simply didn’t feel enough to be decisive, but Lucy had disproven that theory. She had filled his head with thoughts that were so entirely incompatible with the Death Eater agenda that he sometimes still hears echoes of them, ghosts of a person he might have been if she’d survived to make it so. Luckily he’s always had his sister to give him a solid shove back into line when his thoughts veer into dangerous territory. - Apathetic - He has always wondered if perhaps there is simply something wrong with him, in the pathways of his brain or in it’s chemistry. Over the years he has observed the highest highs and lowest lows of emotion, he has seen it in his fellow Death Eaters and his peers at school, in his own family, and yet he feels so rarely that sometimes he wonders if he might be imagining it. At least, that was the case before Lucy - he still can’t comprehend the ruin she’d wrought on his emotional landscape but he does know it’s infinitely more unstable than it had once been. He refuses to acknowledge the feelings she’d made him aware of, or the way in which the heartbreak she’d introduced into his life by rejection and then her death had tipped him over the edge, but he clings to the old comfort of apathy like pretending might just return him back to what he’d been before she’d come into his life. - Ruthless - Capable of monstrous things if they are put into his path or demanded of him, Amycus is largely a passive creature. He has never had a problem with what society considers distasteful or abhorrent and has little in the way of self-restraint to keep him from simply slicing through the obstacles that present themselves in his path. He struggles with the idleness of life after the war was won, of the return of rigid social norms and the pressures of living up to pureblood societal rules. - Explosive - The rarely sighted and often questioned presence of Amycus Carrow’s temper is something that people don’t give much consideration. He has always been considered a cold person, apathetic and even, not given to strong emotions, if any at all. But every so often if the motivation is presented Amycus’s detachment gives way to something else entirely: blinding and overwhelming and violent, his temper has been known to explode with ugly consequences. It happened once at school and the repercussions were something that have stained their family name and reputation to this day. It is fortunate, perhaps, that the Carrows have never cared much for an untainted image.
bio.
(trigger warning: inexplicit mentions of abuse, violence, death.)
Amycus Carrow had been born with the taste of decay in his mouth.
His family tree rotted long before his birth, a once grand family besieged by the gossip of their peers and the ever-mounting debt that crept in like the shadow of the old woods that had overrun their family estate. It swas no surprise that he had turned out so twisted and wrong, given his circumstances. Amycus was a symptom of a much greater disease.
Weaned on poison instead of mother’s milk, shepherded in and out of hospital wings since his infancy, it was easy to believe such a bony little creature would not last the harsh winters of the moors, but survive he did. Amycus was clever, or so they’d soon learn, behind his solemn, eerie stares and an unceasing discomfort within his own skin lay a mind riddled with black holes and infinite constellations. His father’s library was his most trusted companion inside the walls of their quiet home, tucked into corners where his sister’s rages couldn’t rattle him with only books and the contents of his own journals to entertain him.
From those books he discovered the threat the Muggle and their more insidious cousin, the Mudblood, presented to wizarding kind; he learned of the sanctity of the blood that flowed through his veins and how to recognise the taste of Belladonna and Angel’s Trumpet and Baneberry on his tongue disguised by his morning pumpkin juice. (‘You must drink every last drop, my darlings.’) The Carrow home was full of secrets, but the woods at their door buried the darkest.
People didn’t like him very much - he’d been an offputting child and at Hogwarts that proved doubly so. Away from his mother’s care he grew stronger and taller but no less odd, no less curious. They didn’t like the way his speech stumbled and faltered and how frustrated his inability to communicate with others made him, they didn’t like the steady, unblinking malevolence in his stare. It bothered him: his teacher’s wariness and his peers mockery, their inability to see the multitude of worlds trapped in his head.
But he was clever and his experiments (suggestions whispered into his ear from his wrathful sister) never left tangible evidence behind. The girl who fell down the stairs of the Astronomy tower, or the boy whose skin had bubbled and burned for days after he’d dropped the wrong potions ingredient into his cauldron. He never meant to get caught; after hours in the midst of a snowstorm the feeling had blindsided him and her blood had been so vivid against the snow — as it turned out, she would be one more stain upon their family name.
There was no evidence it hadn’t been an accident, his parents had insisted, but Dumbledore had not agreed. The board of governors had been called, but not even an old name like Carrow could budge that decision.
The day that Amycus and Alecto were expelled from Hogwarts, the broken halves of his wand clutched in his hand and his father’s fingers digging into the bones of his shoulder, was the day that Amycus understood just how deep the threat of muggleborns and their sympathisers ran. An appeal had given him a new wand and a new school, but even cold and remote Durmstrang could not smother the burning grudge that had arisen within him.
What Dumbledore stole from him, the Dark Lord would return three-fold in the years to come. Amycus would allow himself to be branded just like his father, a mark of his allegiance, in exchange for opportunity, for the influence to get him inside the door of the Department of Mysteries, and in those mysteries he has found purpose. Oversight is unheard of behind that door: there is nobody to dissuade his interests or curb his tastes and so long as he is careful - well, it’s almost as if you could get away with murder down there.