Biography of Ryuu Riccardo Nefis

Original Work of amanda.faith

Status: Biography for role play application/Brief History of Ryuu Riccardo Nefis




Ryuu is not my real name. My real name is Riccardo Nefis. Ryuu is just a name I’ve run by since my childhood. They say it’s Japanese for dragon. But I’m not Japanese. My family line has a deep history as a well respected Venetian noble family.

I can only vaguely remember my birth date. Somewhere in 1933 if I am not mistaken. It has to be. At least that’s what’s inscribed on my medallion. It’s a miniature coat of arms with the word “Nefis” and “01.09.33” inscribed on the back. I still have it now, though the silver is tarnished and chipped in odd places.

My childhood is a complicated story. Right now I am nowhere near my family. It has been a long time since I have heard from any of them. To be exact, I haven’t heard from them since the day I was abducted.

My gang mates say I used to be even tempered and a little introverted, but that was then. I find the thought of it impossible. They say I’m sometimes impossible to even talk to let alone get close. I guess it must be because of what I’ve gone through. My gang was almost like surrogate family. We’re not a gang of law-breakers or terrorists; we’re a gang of slaves.

I’ve been a slave since the day those masked men pulled me off from the streets. No it’s not what you picture of slaves. We’re nothing like the medieval slaves you hear of in stories. We’re the slaves of the 20th Century. I believe it’s classified as child exploitation.

My gang and I live from hand to mouth. We’re not independent. We’re bought and sold like property - inanimate objects that are no more than possessions. We’re what you would call bond slaves. We’re bought from a slave dealer and then set to work to “pay off our debts”. In truth, our debts are never fully “paid” until our master wills it so. These debts are accumulated by our cost price. What our master paid for us, we’d have to work to pay it off.

You’d think we’d become independent or free after working off the “debt”. Well no, we’d just be sold off to another slave driver and the process repeats itself.

I’ve worked for all kind of slave drivers all over the world. We’ve been sent to pick cotton, to work in leather factories, to mine up coal from underground, to pick pockets... almost any form of odd job you can think of. We’re worked to the bone be it rain or shine. If we fall ill, they never care. The only thing they care about is the money they will lose if the sick one dies. But they rather make that lose then to spend money to cure us. Not to forget it would lead to awkward questions by the law.

But my suffering didn’t last long. Somehow the illegal slave trade was discovered and we were transported off to a temporary home where we were taken care of, fed, clothed and our statements taken.

It was then I officially became a ward of the state. Well until a woman came to adopt me. I only know her as “Miss Levet”. I’ve never seen her face and she did not come to fetch me from the orphanage. It had been a butler who had arrived to pick me up.

The grounds of Levet Chase are enormous. She has orchards after orchards, fountains and beautiful marble works of art decorating her home within the grounds and the mansion itself. There’s more but that was all I’ve seen from the front of the house and from my bedroom window.

I don’t know how many rooms exactly the mansion holds. I’ve never had the chance to explore it thoroughly. So far I’ve only uncovered the main rooms; the library, the study and a few bedrooms just to name a few. I’ve never been to the kitchens. Apparently the servants here work efficiently fast and in stealth. I’ve never seen any of them or even stumbled on any servants’ quarters or even the kitchen. Well except for the guard in the guardhouse at the gate.

It’s not that I am ungrateful or anything, it’s just that her home reminds me of my own. My home grounds may not have been as beautiful or as spacious as hers are but those were mine. They still are in a sense of possession as I’m the only heir to the Nefis line. I do have sisters, but no brothers hence by family tradition and lore I am to inherit the Nefis home.

But what’s the good being the young master or even lord of a property and a family I have no trace of or contact with? Ms Levet has done her best to help me find them though. Or at least to tell them I’m safe and fine. But so far, nothing has been uncovered. Not just about my family, but about Ms Levet as well. Perhaps one day I will find out everything.

Well for now, one thing’s for sure, whoever Ms Levet is; I don’t think she’s alien to wizards or other magical folk. I keep in contact with her through letters and she was not surprised when I received my acceptance letter. Maybe she’s a witch herself. But whatever the case is, I’m leaving for Hogwarts as soon as summer ends. For now, I have to go back to writing a reply for Ms Levet.

Riccardo “Ryuu” Nefis
10:35pm
26th June 1948

Riccardo sighed as he cast his journal aside. It had been almost a week since he had arrived here and still there was no word about his family or any appearance by Ms Levet. Since he had no true companions, Riccardo was accustomed confining his thoughts and feelings with his inanimate friend; his journal. Of course he knew there was such as thing as a pensieve. He had known about both the wizarding and muggle world since his birth. But somehow, it seemed safer to write the things he wanted to remember rather than to toss it aside into an open bowl.

Wearily, Riccardo slumped against his bedpost and surveyed his bedroom. It had been furnished the same style his true home had been. Draperies and Tapestries hung from the ceiling. Heavy velvet curtains and mosquito nets covered the windows, shielding the room from the ever-present pests and the cold of the night. But even these comforts could not protect his formally pampered skin from the cruelty he had been subjected to by the whip and the heat of the blazing sun in his brief years of slavery.

It was hard to forget those harsh times; from the roars of their slave drivers, to the cries of dying comrades, or the screams of fellow slaves in pain. Even the bravest of them could be heard crying softly to themselves in the night. All were helplessly subjected to the whims of the merciless tyrants.

But Riccardo had survived not just because of shear fortune but because of his firm belief in a hope that there would come a time where it would all be over. And that time had arrived nine days ago when authorities broke into the den of law-breakers. All in all, Riccardo survived those treacherous days through recollections of memories. Every time he was dealt with a heavy blow, he ignored the pain by remembering his family, his happier times, friends and the things he had done for leisure. Whenever he was brutally beaten his eyes would glaze over as he entered his getaway.

His memories of his family Palazzo were still fresh in his mind. Just like his present lodgings his home had been furnished mostly in the theme of red and gold. Marble lay in the roman arches, the grand stairs and the tiles of the floor. Expensive wood set the banisters and furniture of his home. Gold and silver marked the utensils and exotic patterns that decorated the walls. Great paintings hung in hallways and between rooms. A grand piano lay in the hall with a collection of instruments played by the Nefis family throughout time.

His ancestry was a line of pure bloods, all of which have entered into the house of red and gold. Even his family coat of arms bore the respected Gryffindor lion. Who knew, perhaps he might be the first who wouldn’t be granted entry to the great house. He had been to many magical schools but had yet to enter the well-reputed Hogwarts. Or should he say the infamous Hogwarts? Many knew of the tales and gossip about the castle from its strange choices of professors - such as the infamous Cyrillian Darkmoon, believed to be the lover of the dark arts - to subjects and hidden secrets within the castle walls.

But that was the least of his worries. Riccardo was more desperate to find his family than to follow the ancestral path. He avoided conversation and company by indulging in attempts to drown them out by wallowing in music, creating works of his own sometimes on various instruments. His fingers were long and slender, graceful even as they danced off violin strings and piano keys. As a result, he spent most of the time locked up within himself and away from everyone. And hence, the fact that there were no living souls within Levet Chase – besides the servants – suited Riccardo well. Perhaps he’d have to learn to open up to others again. But for now, he was happy with his own company and the company of his inanimate companions.

Whenever he played he would play for his missing family. But most of all, he played for his sisters. The music was sweet and lucid when he thought of Vera with her beautiful red hair and green eyes like his. His works turned passionate and furiously strong when he thought of Katrina and her wavy long tea coloured hair like his that fell to the small of her back. Oh how he would recall those moments when she had taught him the art of playing the piano when he was still at a tender ago. The force of the furious and energetic melody would then turn long and sorrowful when he remembered the youngest of them; Cassandra, his little angel with her soft blue eyes, golden blond hair and angelic voice. She had been but a child when he became lost to them. And it was at these moments that tears would fall from his emerald spheres either onto the grand piano’s ivory keys or the dark wood of his long Strad. Music was his way of expressing his thoughts and feelings. As for words, he had no real need of them until it came to disclosing the things he wished to remember to his journal.

Born to a rich Lord and his Lady, Riccardo had led a pampered life. His experience with the common folk and the middle class came from his mischievous ‘escapes’ from the trappings of an aristocrat’s life into the world of the peasants - disguising his true identity on each occasion with the relevant commoner clothes he adorned to fit the occasion. Of his numerous aliases, his favorite was the name by which he was now known as: Ryuu. It had stuck since his childhood and somewhat indirectly caused his turn of fate from the rich young lord to a slave of muggles. Few knew his true name. Insofar it was only his family and blood kin, no other had that privilege, not even Ms Levet.

As he thought of his past, Riccardo’s fingers itched to dance once again and weave out songs. But he withstood the urge. He still had the letter he owed to his benefactor waiting to be finished. Sighing once again Riccardo rose from his rumpled sheets and settled at his desk to finish the half completed letter. Perhaps one day he would see them again. But for now, he would have to make do with what he had now, look towards his entry to his new school and hope for the best.

Other info:
Physical appearance:
- Lean
- Hard muscles from excessive labour
- Dark tan
- Height: 1.8 metres
- Eyes: Emerald Green
- Hair: Brown/Tea coloured
- Scars: Numerous from slave labour
- Other feature: a single ear ring on the left ear

Temperament:
- Relatively placid when alone
- Introvert
- Can socialise when necessary
- Is rather short tempered – trod carefully
- Needs to be understood


S: C
W: D