Member
“If all the world hated you and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved of you and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends.”
- Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
- Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
Name
Seymour Evans
Nicknames
Ev/Evs - Seymour's a hard name to think of a shortened version and not many people call him by his actual name anymore, neither Ellis nor Cinderella just for the fact that it's something he's disowned since coming to the human world. They're things he'd rather forget and let die.
The Original Name
Ellis of Cinders - Often referred to as Cinderella (Cinderellis, at first, though that didn't roll off the tongue well) by his step-family. They used it as a derogatory term, often tasked with picking up the burning cinders in the fireplace and putting them in a bucket. His sisters would literally throw it in his face, blackening it with soot and sometimes burning him entirely.
Story of origin
Cinderella
Age
Thirty-Three (300)
Gender
Male
Sexual Orientation
Homosexual
Magic
No - Definitely not addicted
Job/Position
Cobbler and Vale Affairs
One would presume a would be king wouldn't suffer in a lowly position making shoes or anything of the like. That'd be sordid and kind of a sad mini-step up from where he used to be, plus it's a business that's honestly lost traction to big shoe companies. Regardless, it's a passion he's harbored and something he identifies with nicely and the people of Cedar Grove have grown a little fond of the shop on the corner just behind the Strip. It serves more than just as a shoe shop, but also a place where people can get their further tailored and repaired and maybe even modified.
However, it's not the only job he has. Once every week, Seymour heads into Grimbly's Hall to hear out complaints from his fellow Vales and hopefully fix issues that not many else can step up to do. Of course, he doesn't do it alone, as he has a little team of volunteers, usually Vale kids, that show up to run amok and help out with the tasks that aren't passed onto higher ups.
However, it's not the only job he has. Once every week, Seymour heads into Grimbly's Hall to hear out complaints from his fellow Vales and hopefully fix issues that not many else can step up to do. Of course, he doesn't do it alone, as he has a little team of volunteers, usually Vale kids, that show up to run amok and help out with the tasks that aren't passed onto higher ups.
Appearance
Built like a brick house. Not something expected of someone with a name with such an effeminate background. Well, Seymour hasn't always been as fit and healthy as he can boast now. Before everyone turned around for him, Seymour's 6'0" stature used to err on the lanky, malnourished side. A tall guy like him required quite a hefty diet, especially since, prior to his mother passing and his father remarrying, he'd kept a high metabolism with his work outs and daily chores. Take all of that away and, well, he could barely pass for a servant and looked more like a war time prisoner.
Not even wanting to think about days he'd go without proper nutrition, Seymour kind of became a fitness nut and works out to an exhausting measure. It helps that he's got a dog that's more than willing to keep up pace. Honestly, there are a lot of things from his past that Seymour's done his best to change and some of that change doesn't really remain as permanent as staying fit and healthy. Prior to the magic of his court fae healing his once burned face, the scars and burns on his body remained too embedded to just wish away. Reapplying the burns to his face, all the pain he had to endure, left the scars that would heal over the burned skin relatively fresh enough to will away with a little touch of magic. Thus, Seymour tends to find it hard to shed his shirt and is rather fond of his layers.
Even in the heat of summer, Seymour doesn't walk out of his house without a long sleeve shirt and a nice, leather jacket. His attire tends to be rather low key, as well, and slightly drab in that average Joe chic kind of way. Most of his closet and drawers he fills with various colored shirts, a few casual button ups, a lot of flannel, and a helluva lot of jeans. Maybe it's less average Joe and more butch lumberjack than he'd like to admit. He's got about three pairs of boots, a lot of leather jackets, and did the flannels get a mention? Well, it deserves a second mention. Not only that, but Seymour's kind of the shoe connoisseur and has a second closet that he extended just to fit all the pairs of tennis shoes, dress shoes, custom converse and vans, and just too many others to name.
Often times, Seymour likes to wear what his mother used to call a 'quiet smile'. It's small, unimposing and kind of easy to miss. It's there if he's nervous, happy, a little too angry, or just content enough to daze off into the distance. Of course, that's not the only expression Seymour wears even if it's the one he likes to keep up the most. Various people in his life ingrained the idea of manners into his mind, so much that most things he does is to act polite even if he doesn't mean to. It's subconscious to be subservient, sadly.
Not even wanting to think about days he'd go without proper nutrition, Seymour kind of became a fitness nut and works out to an exhausting measure. It helps that he's got a dog that's more than willing to keep up pace. Honestly, there are a lot of things from his past that Seymour's done his best to change and some of that change doesn't really remain as permanent as staying fit and healthy. Prior to the magic of his court fae healing his once burned face, the scars and burns on his body remained too embedded to just wish away. Reapplying the burns to his face, all the pain he had to endure, left the scars that would heal over the burned skin relatively fresh enough to will away with a little touch of magic. Thus, Seymour tends to find it hard to shed his shirt and is rather fond of his layers.
Even in the heat of summer, Seymour doesn't walk out of his house without a long sleeve shirt and a nice, leather jacket. His attire tends to be rather low key, as well, and slightly drab in that average Joe chic kind of way. Most of his closet and drawers he fills with various colored shirts, a few casual button ups, a lot of flannel, and a helluva lot of jeans. Maybe it's less average Joe and more butch lumberjack than he'd like to admit. He's got about three pairs of boots, a lot of leather jackets, and did the flannels get a mention? Well, it deserves a second mention. Not only that, but Seymour's kind of the shoe connoisseur and has a second closet that he extended just to fit all the pairs of tennis shoes, dress shoes, custom converse and vans, and just too many others to name.
Often times, Seymour likes to wear what his mother used to call a 'quiet smile'. It's small, unimposing and kind of easy to miss. It's there if he's nervous, happy, a little too angry, or just content enough to daze off into the distance. Of course, that's not the only expression Seymour wears even if it's the one he likes to keep up the most. Various people in his life ingrained the idea of manners into his mind, so much that most things he does is to act polite even if he doesn't mean to. It's subconscious to be subservient, sadly.
"My actual mother once told me that if you have a problem you can't solve, then pray about it. Well, obviously that didn't work out for me in the past. Now if I have a problem, I exhaust myself for about three days trying to solve it. That usually works better."
Personality
His father, at the first opportunity to see what lay inside his child's heart, called Ellis (as he was known then) worthy of being a servant—nothing more than a pauper, at heart. His biological mother, however, saw it differently. Ellis had what their church called a Servant's Heart; he did things for people not to gain anything from it, but to better them. That carried forth well into his adulthood and Ellis found his compassion both a crutch and a tool to be abused by others. When his mother died that compassion and will to serve found itself in the hands of an individual who saw it as an excuse to take advantage of him.
Subservient by nature, Ellis, under the grasp of his step-family, found it used in the most outrageous ways and only to further break him down. If anything, though, Ellis had tough skin and hardened bones. Every time they sought to tear him down, he did as they said without hesitation, but then he got back up with every bit of confidence he knew he didn't really have. Being resilient didn't mean he had the confidence to boost himself beyond standing again and again and again. And despite getting back up, Ellis often found himself thinking he deserved the life he'd been thrown into. The boy grew up, after all, without anyone to cultivate his own passions and thus he didn't know he had any beyond getting out and getting free. What he'd do with freedom, he didn't quite know and when he that thought ever occurred, Ellis found himself sinking deeper into the pit that they had dug for him.
Thus, Ellis developed a slight naivety and a very wild imagination. It helped him, though, allowed him the benefits of optimism before things ever got worse. What else could happen, though, to a child sheltered out of cruelty rather than worry? They took away everything to keep him from learning more than the dirty floors he had to scrub and the lintels he had to dig out of the hay. But, that didn't mean he couldn't hope nor could they keep him away from learning what he could from observation and stealing away a few books here and there.
As time passed by, though, his step-family indirectly cultivated a darker side to Ellis. The kind that learned how to be a ghost with his small revenge. Whose outbursts came like dam burst because he didn't know what to do with his emotions aside from bottle them up. And even with as much mercy as he has and as much compassion is inherent in his bones, there are just some people he's willing to let burn. People that he's grown accustomed to hating and hating and hating. Maybe that's why he perhaps neglected the chickens for a day, just to see what happened when he tripped his step-sisters into the coop, smashing the shelter and the eggs and enraging the poultry enough to peck their eyes out and mar their faces. Regret and guilt are saved for later.
"How can they accuse someone they couldn't see?"
Subservient by nature, Ellis, under the grasp of his step-family, found it used in the most outrageous ways and only to further break him down. If anything, though, Ellis had tough skin and hardened bones. Every time they sought to tear him down, he did as they said without hesitation, but then he got back up with every bit of confidence he knew he didn't really have. Being resilient didn't mean he had the confidence to boost himself beyond standing again and again and again. And despite getting back up, Ellis often found himself thinking he deserved the life he'd been thrown into. The boy grew up, after all, without anyone to cultivate his own passions and thus he didn't know he had any beyond getting out and getting free. What he'd do with freedom, he didn't quite know and when he that thought ever occurred, Ellis found himself sinking deeper into the pit that they had dug for him.
Thus, Ellis developed a slight naivety and a very wild imagination. It helped him, though, allowed him the benefits of optimism before things ever got worse. What else could happen, though, to a child sheltered out of cruelty rather than worry? They took away everything to keep him from learning more than the dirty floors he had to scrub and the lintels he had to dig out of the hay. But, that didn't mean he couldn't hope nor could they keep him away from learning what he could from observation and stealing away a few books here and there.
As time passed by, though, his step-family indirectly cultivated a darker side to Ellis. The kind that learned how to be a ghost with his small revenge. Whose outbursts came like dam burst because he didn't know what to do with his emotions aside from bottle them up. And even with as much mercy as he has and as much compassion is inherent in his bones, there are just some people he's willing to let burn. People that he's grown accustomed to hating and hating and hating. Maybe that's why he perhaps neglected the chickens for a day, just to see what happened when he tripped his step-sisters into the coop, smashing the shelter and the eggs and enraging the poultry enough to peck their eyes out and mar their faces. Regret and guilt are saved for later.
"How can they accuse someone they couldn't see?"
Strengths
- Diligent to an absolute fault.
- Compassionate; feels mercy and sympathy are necessary traits.
- Resilient; one of the hardiest individuals; always gets back up.
Weaknesses
- Subservient by nature.
- Secretive with his real emotions and problems (bottles things up).
- Subtle with his vindictive streak (aside from that one incident).
- Uncomfortable with himself.
Mortal Weakness
The sixty seconds between Midnight and 12:01 A.M. leave him as vulnerable as any human.
Fears
Becoming someone's pet again. Falling in love with someone who ends up hating his guts... yet again.
"I'm a lot of things, but pretty really isn't one of them."
History
The story never really changes from one region to the next. A girl, or a boy in his case, is born to a loving mother and a usually loving father. The mother dies and the father remarries and finds himself gone for most of the time, leaving the boy to his step-mother and step-sisters (two in this case). From there it goes down hill. They make the boy do a multitude of tasks, from simple servant duties to the impossible. Clean the pig sty. Make a rooster lay an egg. Find all the hot lintel cinders in the fire place and put them in a bucket. They did worse too. Throw the burning lintels in his face. Ignite the fireplace while he's still searching. Make sure he washes the floors down with acid and tip the bucket when they can soak him to the bone. Mar his pretty face and lock him away.
And then the boy finds a fairy godmother who watched over his mother in her youth to make everything better. Well, not this time. She acted like she wanted to make his life easier, to turn his scared face into something beautiful and she did. She stitched a suit that shimmered in the night sky, trimmed in a gold and topped off with a pair of golden shoes and gloves sown with strands of gold. She sent him off in a carriage before disappearing without a trace, to be unheard from again. He found his prince then, who swept him off his feet before midnight struck and he ran. Ran as far as he can to hide his soot covered body and hideous burns. But the Prince followed and waited for the next morning not far outside of the village and took to finding his would be prince. The search ended quick, possibly due to the fact that the fairy had directed the prince to his home and that's where he found the boy aching on his knees scrubbing away grime from the marble floors. Of course, they married after an ordeal with the family, and lived happily ever after.
For good reason, the stories usually end on that note. Leave it to the imagination, right? Of course they lived happily: it's a fairy tale. For Ellis, though, it was his life and his life went from sudden hope to smashing that little bird into tiny, tiny pieces. After the marriage had been sanctified and he'd been crowned, his prince apparently had a change of heart. That meant nights and nights alone in another cellar. Even if he could leave this one, the marriage he couldn't escape from. Just one prison to the next. The naive young boy who'd been shut in out of spite and cruelty didn't know any better when he'd fallen. Who wouldn't fall for a prince so charming and witty and who stared at him as if he'd hung the moon?
Well, apparently no longer and he'd expect to become that prince's 'queen' what a fucking riot. Not even going to change the title. Luckily, he wouldn't be expected to sire a child he couldn't conceivably bear a child, not even with the aid of magic (thank the lord). However, Ellis was expected to hold the title with dignity, at his would be king's side as if they truly did have a happy, fairy tale marriage. He wanted nothing to die curled up in his bed. And days passed by without much done or said, so Ellis spent most days helping the staff or reading books, learning of the kingdom he'd be asked to help rule over. He saw the people, ventured from village to village doing what he can just to take his mind of the situation he'd been chained to. And every day that passed, Ellis could only tear himself between hating and loving his so called husband, who at least looked passionate for his kingdom, but also acted passionate in his chambers—making sure to throw a wink his way for good measure.
Once the crown had passed to them, well, they made sure to take care of whatever they could. Ellis found himself deep in the issues of the commoners, happy to be of service in a position so high. Short lived, however, as not a year afterwards, their world began to burn. And instead of being able to save his new found people, he was left to watch them all burn away in his name before being pushed into a confusing, loud, and scary world. From there, he couldn't help but look at his own prince without bubbling hatred.
Now he distances himself from a lot of his 'royal family' and finds himself among other Vales, helping the culture thrive and the community grow. From where he found himself among them, Ellis, now Seymour, could effectively aid in their people healing. He often keeps most of his personal life private, however, despite being outside and about people, working more hours than necessary a week, and keeping fit and healthy with his new found companion: Slippers, the golden retriever.
And then the boy finds a fairy godmother who watched over his mother in her youth to make everything better. Well, not this time. She acted like she wanted to make his life easier, to turn his scared face into something beautiful and she did. She stitched a suit that shimmered in the night sky, trimmed in a gold and topped off with a pair of golden shoes and gloves sown with strands of gold. She sent him off in a carriage before disappearing without a trace, to be unheard from again. He found his prince then, who swept him off his feet before midnight struck and he ran. Ran as far as he can to hide his soot covered body and hideous burns. But the Prince followed and waited for the next morning not far outside of the village and took to finding his would be prince. The search ended quick, possibly due to the fact that the fairy had directed the prince to his home and that's where he found the boy aching on his knees scrubbing away grime from the marble floors. Of course, they married after an ordeal with the family, and lived happily ever after.
For good reason, the stories usually end on that note. Leave it to the imagination, right? Of course they lived happily: it's a fairy tale. For Ellis, though, it was his life and his life went from sudden hope to smashing that little bird into tiny, tiny pieces. After the marriage had been sanctified and he'd been crowned, his prince apparently had a change of heart. That meant nights and nights alone in another cellar. Even if he could leave this one, the marriage he couldn't escape from. Just one prison to the next. The naive young boy who'd been shut in out of spite and cruelty didn't know any better when he'd fallen. Who wouldn't fall for a prince so charming and witty and who stared at him as if he'd hung the moon?
Well, apparently no longer and he'd expect to become that prince's 'queen' what a fucking riot. Not even going to change the title. Luckily, he wouldn't be expected to sire a child he couldn't conceivably bear a child, not even with the aid of magic (thank the lord). However, Ellis was expected to hold the title with dignity, at his would be king's side as if they truly did have a happy, fairy tale marriage. He wanted nothing to die curled up in his bed. And days passed by without much done or said, so Ellis spent most days helping the staff or reading books, learning of the kingdom he'd be asked to help rule over. He saw the people, ventured from village to village doing what he can just to take his mind of the situation he'd been chained to. And every day that passed, Ellis could only tear himself between hating and loving his so called husband, who at least looked passionate for his kingdom, but also acted passionate in his chambers—making sure to throw a wink his way for good measure.
Once the crown had passed to them, well, they made sure to take care of whatever they could. Ellis found himself deep in the issues of the commoners, happy to be of service in a position so high. Short lived, however, as not a year afterwards, their world began to burn. And instead of being able to save his new found people, he was left to watch them all burn away in his name before being pushed into a confusing, loud, and scary world. From there, he couldn't help but look at his own prince without bubbling hatred.
Now he distances himself from a lot of his 'royal family' and finds himself among other Vales, helping the culture thrive and the community grow. From where he found himself among them, Ellis, now Seymour, could effectively aid in their people healing. He often keeps most of his personal life private, however, despite being outside and about people, working more hours than necessary a week, and keeping fit and healthy with his new found companion: Slippers, the golden retriever.
Likes
- Shoes!
- Dogs, especially Golden Retrievers
- Socializing and chatting with others
- A good book and a day to himself
- Long runs, to the point where he's freezing on a hot day
- Work, work, and more work
- Movie nights
- Conversing with older folks
Dislikes
- Being taken advantage of; and called a tool
- The feel of hunger
- The scars that are still evident
- Rom-coms and trashy romance novels
- Twilight (the movie + book)
- Cruelty
- Remember the past
- Being stationary
"A dream is a wish your heart makes. Well, I kinda stopped wishing for anything. Just having something 'poof' for you kinda defeats the purpose of the dream, in the first place. I learned that the hard way. The very hard way."
