Sorting (Term Twelve)

[Takuya Kissin]

First Name:
Ren
Last Name:
Miyazaki
Age:
Sixteen
Appearance:


History:
Akihiko and Yuriko escaped to Korea to get married, for their parents were against their relationship. They lived there only for about a month though as they didn’t have anymore money and… came back to Japan, hoping that their parents would accept them and let them be together. They had gotten married already, so Akihiko’s parents decided to let it go, though Yuriko’s parents decided not to lend any money or help them in any way. The two of them were still happy as long as they just had each other. Though soon, Yuriko got pregnant. That made them even happier, plus Yuriko’s parents also decided that they wanted their grandchildren live happily, so they decided to start helping them out and just accept the relationship.

So Ren was born, a year after his cousin, Yuki (his father was Yuki’s mother’s brother). Still, this didn’t make Ren a muggle-born. This was because his mother’s, Yuriko’s, grandmother had been a veela, so the boy has a bit veela blood in him. Somewhere from his mother’s side he had also inherited some magical abilities. However, the boy was still put into muggle school, because his father didn’t know about any of these traits. How would Yuriko be able to explain this to his muggle husband? Whenever Ren would do something accidentally, Yuriko came up with some kind of normal explanation to it, so Akihiko didn’t get suspicious.

So years went by, Miyazaki living in a peaceful Yokohama, nearby Tokyo. When Yuki left to a boarding school called Beauxbaton, Yuriko knew what kind of school it really was, even though his parents were trying to hide it. This though, made Yuriko wonder whether she should send Ren to there as well, but still he didn’t want her husband to think that she had gone insane or anything. Therefore she remained quiet about it, also telling Ren not to say a word, even though her parents weren’t all happy about it. Yes, they knew that Ren was a wizard.

Ren lived a peaceful muggle life, not really having to worry about anything else except his grades. Actually, he didn’t even really have to worry about those either, because he was quite smart and learned new stuff easily. This is why he was quite good at school. One day though, he got a phone call which wasn’t pleasant at all; his parents had died in a car accident. Of course this turned his world upside down, because he didn’t have that many places where he could go. Luckily the Ishida’s took him in for a couple of months, but he didn’t want to be a burden to them so he moved with Yuriko’s parents. They had been very persistent and would have done anything to get him to live with them. He wasn’t all that fond of the idea, but decided that it would do for now. There was another shock waiting for him as they decided to send him to a magic academy. The young Japanese boy wasn’t sure how to react to all this, because he had just lost his parents. There were way too many changes happening at the same time, but he wasn’t able to get his grandparent’s minds changed. So whether he wanted or not, he was going to Beauxbaton.

Personality:
Ren has always been quiet, but even more after losing his parents. He isn’t all that talkative and mostly just listened and followed around… a bit like an airhead. Still he isn’t exactly a shy person. Sure there were times that he was, but usually curiosity took a better hold of him, so he did a lot of exploring. This doesn’t mean that he likes to ask questions a lot. Actually, he rather likes to find out about things by himself, especially because he isn’t all that fond of talking.

Because of his quietness, some might think that he’s being rude or just doesn’t care, but actually he’s very kind and cares about other people’s feelings. He doesn’t necessary show it all that well though, just by doing small things. There are times when he wants to act cool, pretending that he doesn’t really care about anything, but in reality he really does. So he does pretend to be something else that he really isn’t.

After his parents died, the boy has started to act more. He has become flirtier in a way, maybe trying to hide the fact that he’s hurt. There are not many people around whom he can be all normal and doesn’t pretend to be someone else. So around strangers he might be either quiet or rather like a playboy. Ren doesn’t trust in people easily either. Not exactly sure why, but probably because he had to watch how his mother lied to his father, having to pretend normal and that everything was ok, and because of his grandparents.

The boy is also very smart and has always been one of the best students in his school. In his free time you can actually find him reading most of the time or just studying without having any need to. His father was also smart and clever and always told Ren about history and other stuff. The boy loved to listen to his father’s stories which is one of the things that he will miss the most.

Sample RP:

Eh, he really hadn’t expected this.

Truthfully, Ren had thought he would be seeing some old tumbledown castle with dark clouds all around it, thunders hitting the ground, but instead he found a white palace which looked actually… quite gorgeous. Maybe he had been watching too much movies and read too many stories, because he really had been expecting something horrid and scary. Horror. Now he felt slightly stupid, though relieved as well, because there were no bats or people flying around with brooms who also had their face filled with warts. Though, he had heard that there really were brooms. He couldn’t wait to try those out, as childish as that sounds. Oh, and wands! Can you really turn someone into a frog? Ah, this certainly would be amusing as well as interesting.

Ren found a map from his pocket, taking it out and starting to examine it. He stared at it for a moment, blinking his eyes once before turning it other way around as it had been upside down. Now it made more sense at least, though he still wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to go inside there with a map being the only help. The palace was so freaking huge that he definitely would get lost. He had a good memory actually, he would just have to walk around a couple of times and he would know where he was going, but this was the first time in there. And without anyone’s help. How in earth was he going to survive? The boy let out a heavy sigh before starting to take steps, heading towards the main door. It was around 1pm, so everyone would be in the class (or at least most of them), so he doubted he would see anyone from whom to ask what way to go. Not that he even would though. He would make himself look like an ass and that’s the least he wanted. He just didn’t realize that it would look more embarrassing if he just wandered around, looking like he was lost… which he was.

Well, the entrance hall was easy to find, obviously. Just needed to push the door open and you would be there. He looked around curiously, having a feeling that he would enjoy his time in the academy. Perhaps he should have contacted Yuki that he was coming, so then there would be someone to help him out, but felt like it was better this way. He loved surprises. Or at least being the one to do the surprises. And who knew if he would happen to bump into someone amazing who would help him out and it would also develop to something more? Yeah, you wish boy.

But seriously, he hadn’t walked far and he already felt like he was lost. For the thousand time Ren stopped, blankly looking at the map and arching his brow in a question; what the…? Ok, he had had enough. Stubbornly he just stuffed the map back to his pocket and started to walk in a fast speed towards… who knows where. He would eventually find someone from whom to ask where he was supposed to go. And from where he could find the headmistress. Maybe it would take some time, but he could live with that. At least this was a good way to explore around and get to know the place bit better.

welcome to rouerie

[blue]

First Name:

Laurent


middle name

Frédéric


Last Name:

Lachancé Pocey "Chenault"


Age:

eighteen


Appearance:

click


History:
Laurent Frédéric Lachancé Pocey was born on 30th May, into a family on the brink of destruction. His mother and father had been married 1 and a half years, and only then did his father realize that all his mother wanted was him money. His mother left him, weeks after Laurent was born. His older brother Théodore was also a child who's life had been similar only two and a half years before. His mother lived on the out skirts of Paris, they lived a lavish life, anything they wanted they would get from their mother, but she was never really their, was was out socializing with other upper class witches and wizards, looking for a new husband to leech off of.

But his mothers single days where numbered, a two years after he was born his mother feel pregnant again, with a child who's father was a mystery. Laurent and Théodore soon found out about their new siblings father, a rich man, who was already married, as they where both young they did not know what was happening, they would visit him every other weekend, he would buy them gifts, and read the stories, everything a father would normally do for their children. After months of visiting this man, their younger sister Isidora Rosalene was born. She lived with them in their house on the out skirts of Paris, and her father still saw them, every other weekend, sometimes even more.

By the time Laurent was four, he had moved in with his little sisters father, once again their life was lavish, they had everything, and spent more time with his mother then he ever had before. When Laurent was nine his other sister Cinderella who was the cold from his fathers first marriage moved into his life. At first he was wary of her, she had bad mood swings, and hated him and everyone else in the family. Laurent started to like his new sister very much, after a year of living with her, even though she was cold back to him, he stood up to their other sibling as they bullied her. Though she never thanked him, he could tell that she liked him really, or only slightly. Laurent got his letter from Beauxbatons two weeks after his eleventh birthday, he was wary at first, but got used to the idea after, especially as his brother was their.


Personality:

Laurent has always been the most quiet of his family, when ever around other people he stays away from the crowd and keeps to himself most of the time, hes happy enough being on his own, when ever company is around, until they leave he will barley say a word to any other them, he does love to go rather wild when hes with friends but who doesn't, drinking, partying, and smoking are high on his list when hes ever with them, as well as play fighting. Though he is quiet and slightly shy he does have a temper like the rest of his family, he has always stood up for what he though was right not matter what anyone else thought. He stands up to his other sibling,a nd is fond of fighting with his older brother. He likes to the micky out of his sibling, who are lees intelligent of her, being sarcastic and rude to them. And a lot of the time throwing books and dictionary's at them telling them to "read this".

Sample RP:

Laurent layed still on one of the five sofas in his and his siblings "play room" with a book in hand he reading to himself. His dark eyes skimmed speedily over the pages, taking in every word with deep concentration. The house seemed deserted, probably because it was so early, five in the morning to be exact. Everyone else was sleeping, after the rather loud party that had taken place before, this room seemed to be the only clean one in th house, the rest where covered in confetti, and hand bottle and glasses over every visible surface. Groaning quietly Laurent hoisted himself off the sofa, leaning on his knuckles he set the book by his side, rubbing his dark eyes, sleepily.

He looked around the room, even though it was early the sun shone brightly through the large, windows looking out on the large garden, and patio. The books on the walls seemed to be like a rainbow, of all colors and sizes, they sat collecting dust, as only him and his youngest sister used them more than twice a year. He yawned loudly and stood up swaying slightly. Laurent walked slowly to the large door, and turned the rob, leavening the door open, he stretched his arms as he walked down the halls to wards the kitchen.

Not looking at the floor as he didn't want to be put off by anything, like sick or someone passed out which he had seen before. After a five minute walk of what seemed like endless halls and rooms, he finally reached the kitchen. Everything was spotless amazingly, even though a wild party had taken place. The cleaners had done pretty well in such a short space of time. He walked slowly over to a large oak table, surrounded by twelve chairs, he inspected everything. Picking up a mug that was sitting out of place on the side he looked for some tea and the kettle which he noticed had already been boiled, pouring the hot water into the mug, he lifted it weakly and drank it straight from the mug, he sighed, slightly, it burned but he didn't care he wanted to be awake.

He poured another cup, and took another sip, only then to notice, and small being sitting on the end of the oak table. Holding a large cup, and shrewed in shadows. He smiled evilly, his hair hanging in front of his eyes, his little sister, always did like the wake up early, even earlier then himself. "Well good morning sleepy head" he said smugly. The shadow covered figure groaned. Smiling still Laurent walked over to the table and sat on a chair next to the figure, which he now saw more clearly, a tall but petite girl with longs blond hair, hanging over her face. Staring down at a cup. Laughing half heartedly, Laurent moved her hair out of her face. "Earth to Cinderella, anyone there? You know it rude not to awns somebody who's talking to you". Cinderella shook her head, and swatting his hand away. "Late night?" he asked. "What do you think" Cinderella said coldly. He smiled once again at his cold sister. "Well you know we had to leave for school in ooh about... five hours". Cinderella groaned again,while Laurent still smiled.

welcome to rouerie

[tonytonychopper]

First Name: Cecilia Rain

Last Name: Charon

Age: Fourteen

Appearance:


History: Cecilia was born on April 20, 1995 to Melanie Fawcett and Isaac Charon, muggles. From then on, she led a normal life. Isaac worked at a grocery store and Melanie gave piano lessons at their house on a small brown piano with faded wood yellowing keys. They weren’t poor, but not exceptionally rich either to buy all the luxuries other kids had. Their living room had a tiny old black and white television and a squashy second-hand sofa but it was nothing compared to all the fancy gaming consoles and antique furniture their parents owned. That was alright by Ceci, she preferred to go outdoors anyways. Still, the extra money wouldn’t have done much harm. Her books all came from the library, her stuffed animals made by hand; which brings us to their story. On a shelf above her bed, Cecilia has a group of stuffed animals. Each one had a story to tell, and she couldn’t bring herself to toss them out. Fourteen and she still sleeps clutching a corduroy bunny to her chest.

Personality: Modest, bashful, timid, kind; these are all words to describe Cecilia. Her kindness leads to being taken advantage of countless times. For the most part, she can’t say no. Her tendency of always following rules and inability to lie causes many social issues. (Though giving back a teddy bear stolen by a group of girls is a tremendously kind act, they didn’t quite appreciate it as much.) Cecilia has been alone for almost all her life. Because of this, she is unable to communicate well with anyone, except her closest friends (of which she had none, not even the normal kind of friend) and family. At times, Ceci is known to react emotionally to situations. To her former classmates, she was the baby, the outcast, and she was shunned further. It’s common knowledge that nobody wants to be close with that ‘weird girl,’ but Cecilia likes her own company. Writing had always been her forté, and she spends most of her time hunched over with a notebook. What was she writing? Nobody knows. The girl never had any desire to share her work with anybody, be it friend or foe. Back in her home, the garden was Ceci’s little sanctuary, a place where she could be free to do anything she wanted. If Cecilia wasn’t writing, there weren’t many more possibilities. She could be reading; or studying. Despite her protests, Cecilia’s parents agreed to send her to Beauxbatons, an attempt to bring her out of her shell. Watch out world, the real Cecilia Caron is about to be unveiled...

Sample RP: She could remember her protests. “I won’t go! I want to stay here with you!” A boarding school, only seeing her parents for a few weeks in the holidays, it was too much to bear. Cecilia was already feeling homesick and her parents were just in the other room. Her she was, packing up a suitcase with some clothing, sweaters, her toothbrush; she contemplated taking a few stuffed animals with her but shook her head at the thought. “No,” Ceci muttered to herself. “I-I’m turning over a new leaf- I can be whoever I want to be!” But in fact, it wasn’t going to be as easy as she made it out to be. For instance, how about that stutter that was always in her voice when meeting new people? She couldn’t start any conversations. Heck, most of the time, she can’t even look her parents in the eye when talking normally, but with strangers? That word; strangers, it immediately brought to mind burly men, drunk and offering little kids candy, asking them to go in his car, all those lessons from preschool whirred through her head, showing her five at once in turn. Cecilia mentally gave herself a kick. “It won’t be like that. They’ll be my age, maybe younger.” But that was even more frightening than the former.

Ceci sighed. This was going to be the last time she'd see her parents until like a month. Simply walking down the stairs of her house made her feel sick. "This is the last time I'll hear these stairs creak, feel the cosiness that is my home." Her mom hugged Cecilia tight. "Don't say that," she said. "It's not like you're leaving forever. Your father wanted me to ay goodbye for him; he's working for longer hours now with the new manager and all. We bought you a going away present." Cecilia's mom brandished a new, sturdy cage complete with it's own rabbit. The girl was at a loss for words. She knew pets were expensive these days, it didn't seem fair that money as going to be spent on something she could buy herself. Ceci carefully took the cage from her mother and kissed the rodent through the cage bars. Unexpectedly, tears came to her eyes and she flung her arms around her mother. "I-I don't want to go! It's a scam, mum! There's no such thing as magic! We'll go all the way to France and find nothing!" But she knew it wasn't true. She knew what had happened in the garden sometimes. Cecilia's mother patted her softly on the back. "We both saw the letter, dear," she said quietly. "Write back often." And with that, she was gently pushed out the door.

Ceci scowled, dragging an ancient beat-up suitcase behind her. "Stupid mom, with her stupid school. Doesn't even want me in her stupid house anymore. Stupid, stupid, stupid!" She reached up to her hair, yanked out a sparkly brown barrette and flung it somewhere in the distance. Ceci regretted it immediately. It was a cheap dollar store barrette which Ceci had multiple copies of in her suitcase, but her mother was kind to have taken the time to buy them. Not to mention about the thoughtful parting gift of a rabbit. Cecilia glanced down at her new pet, now in a white carrying case. He was nibbling silently on a piece of lettuce and just staring at him made the girl feel calm, stiller. "On the bright side, I've got so much more to look forward to. New discoveries to be made, right?" She seemed to be reassuring herself more than speaking to the rabbit.

change your name so that it is a first and last name, and i can sort you : )

Maybe think more into how she actually became a witch and develop it in your role plays? All that you've said is that her parents are muggles, really...
Must be Cossu.

Actually, if you don't just look at the obvious, the roleplay would show a lot. For instance, there's a constant referrence on how attatched Cecilia is to her parents and home, even lying in order to be with them. It shows how poor the family might be when her father needed to work so badly that he couldn't see his daughter off. In reading what happened when flinging the barrette away, you can see Ceci isn't one to take things for granted and her opinion on what was happening is fogging the instinct to do what's right.

And I do intend to roleplay about developing her into a witch, but obviously, seeing as Cecilia hasn't yet found the proper training, of whch Beauxbatons is, she isn't capable of performing actual 'magic.' This is recognized, though, as she tells her mother Beauxbatons is a scam.

[DORIAN HAYNSWORTH!]

First Name:

Dorian

Last Name:

Haynsworth

Age:

Eighteen Forever

Appearance:

Click!

History:

On the eve of May 20th, 1926, a young witch mother gave birth to her daughter, Isa Lee Moon. The mother, Kameko Moon, was of chinese descent, and had unwillingly became pregnant at a young age. As for the father, well, he was of dutch descent and had only passed through the village in which Kameko lived before moving on through Asia to Europe. The world was still in turmoil after the first World War and Kameko had no way to support her daughter. She was banished from her own village and could not find any means of a stable living environment for her and her child. As much as she had loved and enjoyed taking care of this new life, she felt remorse for Isa was a child she never wanted in the first place. But Isa was special and Kameko knew that she deserved better than a mother who couldn't provide a life for her only daughter.

So Kameko had put up her baby for adoption after two months of traveling from village to village, finding an orphange suitable enough to find more privelaged parents than herself. As much as she would regret this, Kameko only knew it was best that her daughter live a better life not knowing about her past and where she came from. After a month at the orphanage, an english couple traveling around had come upon Isa and were instantly taken by her babyish charms and big hazel eyes. They were not able to bear their own child and had thought of looking for alternatives like adopting So Collin and Juliet Haynsworth had taken the short process of adopting Isa as their own child, then renaming her Dorian Renee Haynsworth. Shortly after, they left the country and returned to their home in the United Kingdom.

Dorian wasn't like many of the other children that resided in the rich neighborhood that her parents lived in. She was privately tutored at a young age learning the essentials that are important in life as well as some extra curriculars like the violin or badmitton. Up to the age of eighteen, she had planned on exploring the world and its wonders, possibly looking into universities to attend to. At this time, the second World War was still in motion and her parents forbid that she go anywhere because of the dangers that lurk on the borders and across the channel in Europe. The world was changing and so were the people. Though on a visit with some relatives out in the country side, she stayed in the comfort of a family she's grown to know and love as her own, even if she was different from them.

One summer evening in late June of 1944, as Dorian and a cousin of hers walked down the trail back to the countryside house, she never returned. The girls were attacked by a man who looked just as normal as any passerbyer, and she was the only one who survived. She woke up in a cave, shivering, but not alone as a woman sat by her side. Startled by the strikingly pale appearance of the woman, she cowered against the corner and pleaded for answers. The woman answered her questions, telling her of the man who attacked her, and how she had no other choice but to kill him. But the most shocking confession the woman gave to Dorian was that she was her mother. Kameko had been tracking Dorian all these years to make sure she was safe, but failed the previous day. She explained to her about how she had given up as a mother because she wasn't ready to be a mother.

Dorian didn't take all this information too well for awhile and despised her birth mother for years. Though she had lived with her to know about her past, the magic that runs through their blood, and how her mother had been able to live with herself all these years. They moved to various places like North America, Canada, back to England, Italy, Portugal, and then settled in to France. Over the years she's come to trust no one and her personality changed dramatically. She turned more harsher to people because she was driven by thirst, and she's even had a couple of victims that she wasn't proud of. But she's learned over the years to endure the thirst and find altneratives for feeding. Though her attraction to the human blood never faded away. Since she hasn't had the proper magical education to harness that side of herself, her mother enrolled Dorian into Beauxbatons Academy.

Personality:

Dorian had witnessed so much history over the years to remember each event that happened in detail. Even before she was turned into a vampire, she was very intelligent in her studies. She fostered every bit of information in hopes that she would need it all for when she attends a university. However, as she grew older over the years, but never looked a day older from when she turned, Dorian became wise about the decisions she would make in her life. Though her life would be an eternity, she had the wisdom of an old woman who's seen a lot in life to know the experiences a person go through. On the other hand, Dorian became emotionless. She never cared much for people any more and was merciless to her victims. But even when she stopped feeding on humans, she just could not attach herself to anyone for she could not handle taking another life in her hands.

She's very untrustworthy and not the first person someone should go to for help. Dorian cannot make promises nor can she keep them to people she does not care much about. To ensure that she wouldn't be close to anyone else, but her mother, she kept rather quiet and this disinterested the people she wanted to repel. Everything about her life and her past was kept under wraps, and she wanted to create this mysterious facade about her so that no one would notice her. Though its hard to not notice a girl like her when she was strikingly beautiful and different from among the rest. The most defining traits of Dorian is her sarcasm and temper. Every word drips with sarcasm to off set people. Then again she's just pessimistic most of the time. Her temper is explosive and she does not hold back.

Sample RP:

Dorian did not have the patience to wait another hour before having to leave their home. She needed to get out of the stale air of their apartment and hunt. Already she was edgy and could not sit still in her seat. Her mother lectured her of another plan to move out of the states and to France where they could live a better life. Dorian had cause enough trouble in the town they were living in for a few years. A disappearance of a young woman reported as an animal attack. Of course Kameko assumed that Dorian had been the reason for the woman's death. "I did not kill her! There are other monsters out there besides myself Kameko," she retorted impatiently. Her temper was already beginning to rise of these accusations and she needed to get out before she does something she may or may not regret.

Before Kameko could get another word in, Dorian grabbed for her coat and left the apartment. She was out in one swift movement and had already been trekking down the empty park. Dorian knew that the forest on the west side of the town was full of animals, especially her favorite meal, white-tailed deer. She needed just one to last her for a couple of weeks. It would give her enough time to help her mother pack and move out of states. At least she would be less irritated with Kameko. A couple of men had passed her by, whistling and commenting inappropriately of her feminine curves. She turned around, lips pursed into thin lines as she was tempted to teach them a lesson or two. But she bit down hard on her bottom lip and whipped around, running off as fast as she could to the forest before she lost it.

Taking in a deep breath, she let out a cry of frustration and beat the tree next to her to pulp. If she hadn't been planning on feeding tonight, there would have been two victims to add onto the list of missing persons in the town. Though she wondered how that first woman did die because it was not on her hands. There had to be another vampire out there, another killer besides herself. Balling her hands into tight fists, she tried to rid the images from her head of what she could potentially do. If she wanted to leave this place with a clear mind, she needed to hurry and hunt now. So she cleared her mind, closed her eyes, and waited in silence to hear any movement in the woods. She could smell from a distance a group of deer feeding. Their hearts pumping irregular from each other. When she could finally determine how far they were from where she stood, she went off into the night to find her prey and feed before the sun rises for dawn.

welcome to sournois

[jericho]

First Name

Jericho

Last Name

Hunter

Age

Eighteen

Appearance

[/font]

THE FACE. With all his handsome features, Jericho's face is probably what people pay most attention to. Jericho may seem like your average eighteen year old quidditch freak, but he's quite the opposite, actually. He really has his own look. Although they sometimes look a dark blue, his eyes are actually hazel. They are brown around the pupil, and then fade into a jade green. Since parts of his eyes are already brown, his eyes don't go through a dramatic change when he turns into a werelion. His eyes are very unique, and have a variety of colors in them; mainly green, blue, and brown. If he's in the water, they're usually a blue-green. It all depends. He has a pretty normal nose, not too big or too small. His lips are normal sized, and possibly fuller than most guys' lips. Traveling inside his mouth, you'll find that he has generally straight teeth, and pretty sharp canines. They are sparkly white, feeling dental hygiene is just as important as physical hygeine. He has a great smile, or so he's been told, and he has slight dimples when he smiles. His face can't really be described in a shape, like most people would say heart shaped, or round. If you were to guess his face shape, it'd probably be between a square face shape and a diamond face shape. It all depends on which way you look at him. He has minimal facial hair; he always keeps himself shaved, so stubble is the most facial hair you'll see on his face, and is usually above his mouth and on his jaw and chin line. But like said before, he keeps himself shaved. As for hair, he has naturally wavy, chestnut brown hair. He doesn't have a particular style; sometimes he just puts his hand through it and lets his waves do their thing, or if he's feeling especially good that day, he'll take a half hour to put it into a shaggy style.

THE BODY. Standing at 6'2'' and weighing in at exactly 200lbs, Jericho is a pretty tall and healthy male, taller than most males he knows. He's so healthy because he trains for quidditch, and plays it anytime he can. He goes on morning ones to stay in shape for it, too. He doesn't want to be a total muscle head, just enough to play quidditch, attract the ladies, and take care of himself if he needs to. A werelion, or a regular lion even, shouldn't be out of shape under any circumstance. As said before, Jericho is a tall boy, so people don't mess with him too often, though not many people would anyway. His height and weight makes him perfect for playing quidditch, and he hopes to at Beauxbatons. He has a muscular build, but not too muscular. He's pretty average for an eighteen year old boy. He likes to keep his body in good shape, and even though he keeps good care of it, he does actually have tattoo's, but just in case the job he has or the team he's on doesn't want to see tattoo's, he got his placed on his right pec, being a tattoo of a golden lion with bright gold eyes. Under the lion, it says Leo, along with his birthdate under the name, in slightly smaller letters. He'd gotten the tattoo when he became a werelion, for his eighteenth birthday, and because his zodiac sign is Leo, who is also the personality living within him. Don't get it confused with a split personality, though. Leo is just a voice inside his head, the voice that belongs to his werewlion side. It tells him when he needs to hunt, and when he wants to turn. He's like an old friend.

THE STYLE. Usually, when you're thin, it's pretty easy to find clothes. Jericho is plenty thin, but being pretty tall, it can hender the ease of buying clothes. He always has to make sure he checks the tall section of stores; especially for pants, because most of his height is his legs, but he has to pick certain shirts as well, but he doesn't really mind. His style isn't too out of the ordinary, even though he loves to pick out vibrant colors. He likes standing out, rather than blending in with the crowd; it's just part of his personality. On a lazy or rainy day, Jericho will just put on some gym shorts and a sleeveless plain shirt. But, when he's going out, or if he's feeling really good that day, Jericho will put on some designer faded jeans, and some kind of vibrant t-shirt, or whatever he finds in his closet. He loves to wear shirts that have the logo's of old muggle bands. Although he looks like he'd be the preppy type, he loves to listen to muggle rock music. He has every t-shirt available of the old rock bands, dating from back in the seventies. The shirts from back then are his fathers, that his father grew out of and gave to Jericho. During school days, he even then mixes up his clothes. Many students don't like their regular uniforms, and the case is the same with Jericho, so he'll wear faded jeans, either light or dark faded jeans, with his white button-up shirt, which he leaves untucked. He puts his tie on like he's supposed to, but he leaves it loosely tied, just to give his uniform it's own style. Nothing major, though. As for shoes, he'll wear anything that will fit him. He wears a size 16 shoe; when you have that big of feet, you take what you can get. Usually, his shoes are classic converses, or american muggle nike shoes. As for as accessories go, he doesn't get too into it. He'll wear his high school class ring, a watch, maybe his lion necklace and those jelly bracelets, but that's it. So, there you have it for style. Jericho likes to mix and match, but his style is pretty laid back, for the most part.

History[/font]

THE BIRTH. Jericho Jeremiah Hunter was born on August 12, eighteen years ago at exactly 5:30 in the morning. That might explain why he gets up every morning at 5:30, no matter how late he stays up. Of course, that changes if he'd been partying all night. The eight pound, six ounce baby was born to Laura Lee and Jeremiah Jacob Hunter, a recently married couple who'd bee planning this birth for a long time. Laura delivered the baby in a muggle natural childbirth center. It was a peaceful place with ten rooms in each hallway; the rooms looked like luxury bedrooms, with a queen sized bed, a television, and all the other necessary furniture. Laura decided that delivering her baby naturally, without drugs, was the best way to bring a child into the world. She was probably right, no matter how much pain she was in. Believe me, she was in a lot, because she screamed so loud the windows almost shattered. An opera singer somewhere was fuming with jealousy. Finally, Laura delivered a healthy baby boy and both parents agreed on the name Jericho Jeremiah Hunter. Jericho was an arabic name, meaning city of the moon; the couple decided on that name because of Laura's ancestors, who were arabian. Jericho's middle name was inspired by his fathers first name, wanting part of him to always be a part of his son. His last name was a name passed down since the Hunters began, during the Salem Witch Trials. Two of Jericho's ancestors died in the trials, a couple accused of being witches/warlocks. On August 15th, just three days later, Jeremiah and Laura took their baby boy home to start his newly obtained life.

THE FIRST STEPS. From the time Laura and Jeremiah brough Jericho home, he was their pride and joy. His mother and father decided that one of them had to stay home and take care of him. They didn't trust sitters at all, so Laura gave up her Ministry of Magic career to stay home with her boy. She became a house wife, who got to stay home with her bundle of joy every day. Meanwhile, Jericho's father worked as a Professional Quidditch Player, raking in large sums of money, which kept the family in a very nice house, and kept food on the table and clothes on their backs, plus a few fancy things for their enjoyment. The routine worked smoothly as Jericho grew up, which felt like in minutes to the two parents. By the time he turned one, he was talking, and running around like a wild child. He was always on the move, and really put his mom to work, keeping an eye on him. As a toddler, he always wanted to go play, and eventually started playing t-ball. He was an energetic little boy, and even though he'd been in his share of trouble, he was a good and healthy kid, and his parents were greatful.

GROWING UP. By the time he was five, he had graduated from pre-school, and started elementary school early. He went to a private school in America at the time. He went to one of most prestigious schools in the state, which was New York. He went through his elementary school years with ease, learning more and more, and always aiming to learn more. When he was nine, and in fourth grade, he got to play t-ball, and then softball at the age of 10. He was going into the fifth grade, his last year of elementary school. It suddenly got harder for him, so he had to give up sports to buckle down. Afterwards, he passed elementary school with flying colors. He was growing up fast. Too fast for his parents to believe. Soon enough, he was fourteen, and in eighth grade in middle school. He was quickly becoming a man. He had many friends and did well in classes, as well as sports. He'd been on the swim team, the basketball team, the football team, and even the baseball team. At that time, he'd been going to a regular public school, and got into his first really huge trouble, after his parents caught word that he'd picked up smoking. His father was furious with him, and he'd been grounded for what seemed like centuries, and he was forced to quit. The trouble climaxed as he got in with the wrong crowd. After a few happenings, the family picked up their stuff and they moved to London, England. That's where he would attend High School, or whatever the brits called it. But, since he'd have to leave all his friends behind, his parents took him to a new safari center that had just been built. When he was little, he used to go all the time and see the lions. Now that he was older, he claimed it was lame, but he was actually excited. So, they went, and something happened the family would never forget. The safari was a night safari, equipped with a full moon. They started to look around at other animals, when Jericho spotted his favorite lion, Leonardo. Jericho walked to the railing, jumping over it, instead of taking the stairs. At this safari, you could get close to the animals, because they were magically trained. Jeremiah, Jericho's father, said that he needed to go to the bathroom, and left Laura on the balcony while he went to the bathroom. The truth was, he wasn't going to the bathroom. He was going to find something to eat, because he had an abnormal craving for blood, and the moon was having some effect on him. What his son and wife didnt know, was that he was a werelion. By the time he got to the food stand, it was too late. He was slowly changing. He'd changed into his lion form, and was racing towards the strong smell of blood; it was his sons blood. The lion jumped over the balcony, running towards the young teenager, who was petting Leonardo, who Jericho liked to talk to--for he had the ability to do so. Leonardo roared, and Jericho jumped back, in fear he might do something, but it seemed the lion was roaring at the other lion racing towards them with reddened eyes. Jericho looked at the lion in fear, and before he knew it, the lion pounced on him, tearing at his neck. Leonardo the lion tackled Jeremiah, fighting him fiercely. Laura gasped at the sight and raced down to her son, willing to risk her own life to save him. Laura reached her son and kneeled down to him, whispering incantations to heal him, but it wouldn't work. By the end of the fight, Leonardo was lying on the ground, his movements scarce. The other lycan slowly crept towards Laura and Jericho. The lion laid down in front of them, finally turning into Jermiah again, apologizing to them. They were both shocked, and after making sure his dad was okay, Jericho ran over to his lion friend, nearly crying over him as he found him dead, but he could still hear the animals thoughts. What Jericho didn't know, was that he would become a werelion, but he could feel something inside him, and he craved blood, and the voice inside his head told him to. So...he did. From that day on, leonardo lived inside of him, and his father taught him how to be a werelion, and how to control hunger the best he could. His father had healed completely, but Leonardo could only exist when Jericho turned. From that moment, things were never the same.

BECOMING A MAN. London, England. That's where he would attend High School, or finishing school, or whatever they'd called it there. He could have been going to Hogwarts right now, but he wasn't. His parents had told him that they were of a magical lineage, but they wanted him to finish regular schooling before he moved onto magical schooling. They said he needed to learn academic studies before magical, so they told him he could go to Beauxbatons Academy in France, after he'd graduated, since they accepted people of all ages, as long as they weren't older than eighteen. So, Jericho entered high school, and with little interruption, he'd graduated from High School with high grades. He didn't wait long before applying to Beauxbaton Academy of Magic.

BEAUXBATONS ACADEMY. At the age of eighteen, Jericho was accepted to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, and is currently on his way there, hoping that he's sorted into a good house, and that he meets others like himself.

Personality

THE GOOD. Jericho has many good qualities, which he inherited from both his mother and father, as well as from Leonardo. He is a pretty friendly guy. He's nice to everyone, and never makes fun of anybody, or at least, he tries to be nice to everybody, but some people just get under his skin, like overly sarcastic people. He can't say too much about that, though, because he can be sarcastic a lot of the time, like his father is. Even though he can be sarcastic, he's a good guy, and is very funny. Jericho absolutely loves to make jokes and pull pranks. He can take anything, a simple word, and make it funny. He's had the ability to make people laugh ever since he could remember. He's a very energetic boy, and he uses it to make people laugh, but also uses it for sports. His high energy lets him play long periods of quidditch at a time, which he loves. He's a thoughtful person, and would more than likely always think of others before himself, and would do anything and give anything for his friends and family, especially his family. He's a very lovable guy, and really isn't afraid of commitment like a lot of guys, he actually dreams of one day being like his mother and father. They've been together for almost twenty years, and they were still so in love. He's a very loyal person, so he does great in relationships, when he has to prove his loyalty and compassion. He can be an intense person when it comes to romance, and anger, which is where we'll begin his bad traits.

THE BAD. Anger is probably his worst trait. Usually, it takes a great deal of things to make him angry, since he likes to keep his cool, but if you get him mad, you'd better watch yourself. Leonardo only adds to his anger, because Leonardo had a temper when people or other lions messed with him as well. Usually, he's calm, but again, don't make him angry. Sometimes, he hides behind a tough guy facade. Really, he's a passionate and creative person, but he doesn't show it in front of his friends. Well, his guy friends. He's a talented artist and writer. Little people know this, but he keeps a journal in the drawer of his night stand, and he writes in it every night. He feels guilty if he doesnt, because he's done it for so long. He's kept a journal since he turned into a werelion, which was at the age of fourteen, four years ago. Even though he's loyal, he can sometimes be too protective, and almost jealous if someone else comes into the picture in his romantic relationships. When he has a girlfriend, and she flirts with another guy or even looks at him awestruck, he gets a little bent out a shape, but that's only because for some reason, he's a bit insecure. He has no reason to be, but ever since his parents had a big fight where his mother almost left, his father always told him to protect his girlfriend and she'll never leave. So, his father words inspired his jealousy and protectiveness. Sarcasm and humor, even though they're in the good traits, they can also be bad traits. Sometimes, Jericho can take his humor a bit too far, and it ends up hurting someone. In the end, he always apologizes, but he needs to learn where to draw the line.

Sample RP[/font]

"Alright dad...", a young teens voice said softly, with a slight pause, "Tell me again, why we're going to the safari?", the voice asked, a quizzical look on the young boys face as he asked his father a question.
"Because son, we'll be moving out of the country, and we want to go one last time, before we leave for England.", the boys father said in his normal low, but soothing tone. It was a tone that always calmed Jericho.

Green, black, and blue blurs passed his vision as Jericho looked out the window of the old volvo. The blurs were of the grass, tree's, and the sky. They passed by Jericho's field of vision as the car drove down the outskirts of New York City, the rainy day only making the blurs look less vibrant than usual. It seemed to rain a lot in this city, and Jericho seriously hoped it would be the same in London. You might think it odd that he liked rainy days, but he did. They were kind of beautiful to him. The rain was peaceful, and for Jericho, calming. It was like when you went to see a waterfall. Jericho always felt like grabbing a book or magazine and laying on a rock, listening to the water hit the rocks. He loved the sound of waterfalls, except for when he had to go to the bathroom. He really hated thinking about waterfalls when he had to go. It only made him have to go more. Hazel green eyes looked towards the front seats, where his mother and father sat, his father in the drivers seat, his mothre in the passengers seat. The young boy smiled at his parents, who both had a hand on the arm rest, his father taking his mothers and holding it gently. Jericho looked toward the windshield, the sound of the windshield wipers rubbing against the glass filling his ears. The rain shower crashed upon the car and windows, making Jericho shut his eyes. He loved the sound of it. He didn't realize it, but listening to the rain made him fall asleep, and the safari had only been five minutes away.

"Honey, we're here...", a sweet and soothing voice called out to Jericho, his mother hovering over the boy sleeping in the back seat. "Come on, honey, we're at the safari.", she told him, helping him out of the car, a pleasant smile on her face. She was always like that. Her tone was light, yet strong for a woman. Her voice always put Jericho, and even his father, at ease. It was kind of like a drug, the way she talked. Jericho and Jeremiah went to her with problems just to be made feel better by her words and the sound of her voice. She was the sweetest woman you could ever meet, and Jericho considered himself lucky to have her for a mother.

The sounds of the different animals traveled through the air as the family entered the safari park. As he looked around, Jericho could see little toddlers running around with their mommies and daddies, pointing at the different animals. Jericho paid attention to one little boy in particular, who was tugging at his dad's hands to go look at the lions and tigers. The teen smiled softly and slowly to himself. Watching the little boy reminded him of himself when he was that age, on his first trip to the safari park. The lions were his very favorite animal then, and to this day, they were his favorite, and he still couldn't wait to see them, but there was one lion in particular he wanted to see; that lion was Leonardo, leo for short. He was an older lion here, whom Jericho came and visited ever since the lion was a cub. He'd found the lion cub on a family vacation to Africa, and stowed him away in the luggage on the way back. When they got home, his mother and father explained that a lion belonged in the wild, so they took it to the safari, and promised him that they would come and see him from time to time. So, he did come back, and over the years, both Jericho and Leo had grown up quite a bit. The boy had shaggier hair now, and they were both more muscular.

Here they were again, looking at the lions. The family stood at the balcony, which overlooked the african plains that the lions lived in. They were all leaning on the cold metal railing, sipping on soda from the concession stand, which cost them almost five dollars each. Prices at the safari were ridiculous, but it was the price Jericho was willing to pay just to see Leo. Jericho looked at the lions, Leonardo lying down on the golden grass of the plains, his mate lying her head in the nook of his. Little lion cubs were running around the lion couple, pulling on their ears with their little teeth, wanting to play. This made the teen smile brightly. Putting his drink down, Jericho turned to his parents.

"Im going to go down and see them.", Jericho told both his parents, walking around them and running down the steps, his hands gliding along the cold metal railing all the way down. The sun had finally set, and he was with the lions alone, in the beautiful night time scene. With a smile still plastered onto his features, the teenager sat down in front of the lions, who just looked at him, as if they knew him. The lion cubs ran over to him, rubbing their heads against his clothes, like house cats did when they wanted you to pet them, or if they just wanted something from you. Chuckling softly, Jericho used one hand to pet the two lion cubs, their thick fur feeling like a warm blanket under his skin, making his grin spread across his face, slight dimples forming on his cheeks. The little cubs were still playful, and it was evident to Jericho when they jumped on him. The two tackled his stomach, making him fall back, laughing out loud the whole time, Jericho's parents smiling the whole time he played with the cubs. Leo and his mate just watched them, talking with Jericho in his mind the whole time, talking like they were all the best of friends.

Meanwhile, on the balcony, Laura and Jeremiah stood, watching their son and the lions. They were still sipping at their soda, when Jeremiah turned to his wife with a blank expression on his face. "Babe, I'm going to find a bathroom, I'll be back.", Jeremiah told her, a smile spreading lightly across his face as he left her at the balcony. He walked up the steps and into the main lobby of the safari again, trying to find the food stand. He'd lied to his life about having to go to the bathroom. The thing was, he was looking for food; anything to satisfy his hunger. Why would he lie about that, you ask? Well, he had a secret. He was a werelion, and craved meat and blood, and the fact that it was a full moon tonight, didn't help the situtation. The man was about to walk up to a concession stand, when his secret caught up to him. He slowly started to change, his eyes turning a gold color, and within two minutes, he'd turned into a golden lion, about the size of Leonardo. Women screamed and men protected their wives and girlfriends as the newly turned lion ran through the safari pathways, trying to find a strong smell of meat. The concrete under the lions feet scraped against his claws as he jumped over a balcony railing, landing in an african plains setting. Across the field, was Jericho, with the cubs, still playing with them as if there were no tomorrow. The lion growled, which made Leonardo jolt up, the lion roaring back, as if telling the other lion to leave at that instant. The lion across the field just narrowed his eyes and jolted towards them, running with all the pride and majesty of a normal lion, the hunger in it's eyes more intense than any regular lion, considering male lions didn't usually hunt.

"Oh...my...god...", Jericho whispered to himself, watching the lion come toward them, his eyes widened as they could be without popping out. As the lion edged closer, Jericho took the lion cubs in his arms, holding them close, trying to protect them, but it wasn't the lion cubs that Jermiah was aiming for; it was Jericho. Realizing this, he threw the cubs gently towards their mother, the wind being knocked out of him when the enemy lion pounced on him. Leonardo had tried to tackle him down in the air, but Jeremiah jumped too high. Jericho felt like all his breath had been stolen from him. Just because of his fear, he couldn't breathe. That, and the fact that there was a huge lion on his chest. The lion roared at him and slammed its teeth into Jericho's neck, tearing a chunk out of him. A scream was let out into the night as Jericho was bit into. Leonardo pushed the enemy lion off of Jericho, starting to battle with it as Jericho's mother ran down the steps, her floral dress rippling in the night breeze. Her chest and dark brown hair bounced as she ran down the steps, coming to the aid of her son. She tried healing spells, but they just wouldn't work, until the last one she performed. His wound had became just a scar, and the two lions were lying on the ground, the mother lion and little cubs looking at them. The mother lion and cubs ran over to Leonardo, licking his face and tugging on his ears. They knew he was dead, and by the time Jericho ran over to the lions, he knew too. Something within Jericho told him to taste the blood of the lion, so he did, because the voice sounded like that very deep, wise tone that Leonardo used. Licking his lips, Jericho got a handful of the blood, the lions watching him with wonder as he drank it. Suddenly, his eyes turned a golden color, and he felt a new strength within him. Leo was now a part of him, and thanks to his father, he was a werelion. The cubs and the mother came over to Jericho, after Leo's body had totally disappeared, rubbing their noses against him, as if showing love and affection toward him. From then on, the lion cubs would be with him, and the mother would find a new mate.

"J-Jericho?", a raspy male voice asked. Jericho slowly looked over to what was once a very hurt lion. He didn't expect to see what he saw. It was..his father. Both Jericho and Laura looked at him in wonder and confusion. His father killed Leonardo, and almost killed Jericho. This would change things forever, but how?

[/blockquote]

welcome to rouerie

[hammond]

First Name: Daryl
Last Name: Ferris
Age: 18
Appearance:
History:The birth certificate reads Daryl Daye Ferris, the parents' names have been purposefully obscured, the bawling infant left on the doorstep of a local muggle orphanage. At age 7, he is adopted by Sarah and Edmond Crier. A few months later, he is returned after a period of insistent raving about being able to talk with the small black snakes that occasionally found their way into the little flower garden behind their townhouse.

His second stay at the orphanage seems even longer than the first as he takes first to isolating himself from each and every family that comes through looking for a child of their own. At age 14 he schemes for several months, becoming strangely sociable before making a break for it one night whilst the orphanage staff slumbers. Police bulletins litter the streets, his picture on each and every one of them, staring at him as he peers cautiously from alleyways, mocking him for existing. He knows that he is different, accepts it, and refuses to have those filthy, boring, normal orphans degrade him, stare at him as though he had two heads when he sits upon the ground beneath the large oak out back and draws the mystical creatures and strange symbols from his dreams in the dirt.

Eventually he is caught and returned. He becomes a captive of the police for a time before being passed on to an orphanage for 'troubled teens.' He detests the label, rounds up said troubled teens, and leads a riot, attempting to break free while the staff is distracted. He fails, limbs flailing recklessly as they drag him away from the fence that separates him from the outside.

He is 16, leading a small gang of rebellious teens when he sees the one with whom he decides to stay. Her name is Angelique DeFarris. The name, in and of itself is an irony, as is the fact that she, a single mother, decides to take him under her wing even after he displays one of his learned 'talents,' and moves a can of soda across the table without seeming to move a muscle. he means it do scare her off. It doesn't. The staff tries to convince her to foster one of the other boys, she doesn't listen.

Something about her promises him answers, despite their differences. She is fair skinned with flowing brown hair fringed with gold sporting bright colors and a sweet smile. Upon arriving at her home, his silence is broken when she reveals that she is a witch and everything falls into place.

A few months later, she has begun teaching him all she knows, but says that he needs formal instruction and enrolls him in Beauxbatons Academy...on the train he spots her name in the Obituaries in a translated copy of the Daily Prophet that is being handed out.

Personality: Daryl is quite the character. Having been through quite a good deal in his life, being passed around and having recently lost the one person who seemed to understand his nature, he distrusting in the extreme. His manner is fairly aloof and uncaring, his gaze generally bleary and unfocused, his words made of calculated nonsense that, like as not, has something to do with a combination of dark dreams filled with fire and a daily dosing of "happy juice". Giving it up seems to be wishful thinking because the nightmares just keep coming.

He's fiercely loyal to the few 'true' friends that he does bother to keep, and is the type who will protect them by roughing up an antagonist if necessary...only hitch is, he does it gladly. Fighting is one of those things he's good at and, being as talents are in short-supply where he's concerned, he does what he can.

In his bag there are several medications given to him during his time in the home for troubled teens (one for depression, one for bipolar disorder, and another to help him sleep)---he rarely takes them, a foreign porno mag that Angelique once caught him reading (she had laughed at the time and he keeps it as much for the memory of that laughter as for its other uses), and a flask that once contained a high proof vodka, but is now sadly empty, and an equally empty pack of cigarettes. These items tend to explain away much of his personality, not that anyone knows about them...of course, it isn't hard to guess. People stereo-type all the time and hell, he's only too happy to deliver....or is he? he's certainly bolder and more daring than most would expect, always ready to have a good time, often at the expense of others, but not out of any sort of meanness or spite, but simply because good times distract him from his otherwise miserable state. Needless to say, he's never seen outside his dorm without a mischievous grin on his face and one hand on his wand.

Sample RP: "Merlin's balls this thing is heavy, Lizzie" Daryl grunted as he lifted the now entirely too full suitcase of one of his train companions from the trip to Beauxbatons. She had nice long legs, a shapely buttocks, and a smile that was absolutely to die for, the little dimples in the corners only adding to her charm, and he'd found himself instantly willing to help for what were, admittedly, less than noble reasons (not that SHE needed to know that). He was already starting to regret THAT particular decision. "What the hell'd you fill it with, rocks?"

She grinned at him, a high, lofty giggle escaping past her lips. "Course not silly, it's filled with clothes and other...necessities...." she trailed off at the end, drawing his curiosity.

"Necessities eh? What sorta necessities, cherie?" His eyebrow rose as he spoke and he looked about half ready to drop her suitcase and go rummaging through it to satisfy said curiosity. After all, the worse she could do was backhand him or attempt to curse him he supposed, and ever since Angelique had taken him to purchase his first wand, he'd had a hand resting near it at all times, just in case. He was used to the surge of adrenaline that came to one suddenly as a fist was lifted against them, and he couldn't imagine that the rush that came from dueling with wands would be all that different.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she teased, reaching out to poke the tip of his nose. A moment later, a sneeze from the fragrant spring air shook him and all was forgotten. Daryl removed his hand from his wand and grabbed the suitcase once again, taking up his own with his other hand. "So, where to?" he questioned, changing the subject for both of their sakes. Rolling her eyes, she pointed to the path just ahead of them.




welcome to sournois

[evan]

First Name:
Evan

Last Name:
Monroe

Age:
17

Appearance:


History:
mother;; Morgan Monroe (37)
father; Nicholas Monroe (41)
younger sister;; Desirae Monroe (15)

Evan Monroe was born on July 16th in Atlanta, Georgia. He was a very curious baby, not just a little vampire but quite small; looking rather premature than a baby that had been carried full term. For the first five years of Evan's life, everything was great. His mother and father were still together and Nicholas was sober. Even as a child, Evan was a happy kid. He was the apple of his mother's eyes and the son that his father had desired. They lived in this large old plantation styled house that had been in his father's family for as long as anyone could remember. Along with the house, there were acres and acres of land. So naturally, as a toddler, Evan was usually outside with the neighbor kids. Like most kids, he never wanted to come in for dinner and have to go to bed. It wasn't just because he still wanted to stay outside and play with his friends. Evan was quite afraid of his father, though his mother didn't seem to think there was anything even remotely strange about Evan and Nicholas's relationship. Evan's father was very hard on him. Hard to the point where he was abusive, thanks to the alcohol. Things seemed to grow worse with his father as Evan grew older. Things got so bad to the point where it was rare to see Evan at home, and on occasion when he was he always seemed to bruised and battered up. When his mother inquired about his injuries, Evan merely brushed it off and claimed he had gotten into a fight or something of the sort. This was easy for his mother to believe, so she accepted it and dropped the subject.

One day though, Nicholas got caught. You see, when it comes to Evan's little sister, no body messes with her. Period. If you do, well, let's just say you're probably gonna be having a bad day. One day, Nicholas had come in, especially drunk and began beating on Desirae, who was only eight at the time. Dezi was always a small child, and at eight she was built as if she were six years old. To say that didn't go well with Evan was a enormous understatement. Evan told his father to stop. Twice. When he didn't Evan gave Nicholas a rough shove, enough to get him a good foot or so away from his sister. This pissed Nicholas off, to be frank; and he proceeded to hit his first born right in the jaw. This had happened just as Morgan was walking in from work. Morgan promptly collected her children, told her husband (soon to be ex) that he could expect to see her in court, and left. Evan hasn't seen his father since, and doesn't ever plan to.

Morgan found a job and a small, three bedroom apartment in the middle of busy Atlanta, and that's where the three have resided ever since. Morgan's family has never been wealthy, they have always had to work hard. She has had to work more than one job to support herself and her children. As Evan grew older, on top of school, he would do things around the neighborhood he lived in to try and help her and his sister out as much as he could. At the age of sixteen, his father began calling the house more and more often, claiming to be sober (which the boy seriously doubted), and wanted to help. He began sending in more money to help thing along. Eventually, much to Evan's displeasure, Nicholas suggested he get an education, and promptly sent him to Beauxbatons.

Personality:
All in all, Evan's a pretty laid back person, he's very mellow about everything. He's not the type of person who gets angry that easily; on occasion when he does get angry, he's very quiet about it. He isn't a regular joe that will go around take his anger out on other people. The most he'll do is vent. He never raises his voice when he's angry. The only time Evan even gets close to raising his voice is when he's super excited about something, or when he's trying to prove a point. Evan is usually a pretty happy kid. He tries not to let other people get him down. Though, when he is unhappy, it's a pretty depressing sight to be honest with you. He gets silent and anti-social. He'll pretty much just sit there all by himself until he opens up about whatever is bothering him. Evan is a really social person when it comes down to it. He loves to talk to people. He's the kind of guy you can count on to cheer you up when you aren't having a good day. Because of this, Evan tends to make friends quite easily. Something Evan despises about himself though, is the fact that he is quick to judge someone, but, fortunately, he always ends up changing his mind about them.

Another negative trait to Evan's personality is, when he doesn't like you, you know it. If he can't stand you, it's extremely difficult for him to be in the same room with you and keep a civil tongue. Not to say he's going to talk s**t about you right in front of you. He just doesn't know when to keep his big mouth shut. Thanks to that, Evan is one to attract trouble, so he isn't exactly favored by many authority figures. Aside from this though, Evan Monroe is a decent student. He makes fair grades. He's no genius though, he is just very motivated to do well. When it comes to school, Evan takes things very seriously. He strives to do as best as he possibly can. He studies very hard, as to maintain good grades. Evan is pretty much an artist by nature. He writes, draws, plays music. But if he had to be honest, his true calling is music. So it's not rare to see him playing his guitar, Kimber, in the most random of places. When it comes down to it though, Evan's just your average teenage boy, just trying to get through his schooling and trying to make something of himself.

Sample RP:
A new school.

Evan just stood there, frowning as he looked up at the vast castle. Evan hugged his guitar case tightly, much like a toddler would hug his mother's leg on his first day of preschool. This was going to be like second grade all over again, except he was older and he seriously doubted people were gonna make Dukes of Hazzard references toward him. Although, now that he thought about it, he was probably gonna get teased for the southern accent he had. He didn't know. He had never lived outside of Georgia his entire life. And coming to France was there first time he had ever left the United States. If he could say anything about even being here, it was that it was definitely going to be a challenge for him. For the first time in his life, he was in a place where he didn't know anybody. Even when he had moved from Barnesville to Atlanta, he had known people. He didn't have any relatives here, or friends, or even acquaintances. Evan would have been satisfied to see someone he absolutely loathed, just because they would be a familiar face in this ocean of strangers.

He sighed. What if he couldn't even get anybody to talk to him? He frowned at this thought, his eyebrows knitting together. That was a pretty dumb thought. Even if no one even knew that thought had crossed his mind, it really didn't make him feel like the greenest cabbage in the patch. I mean, Evan Monroe wasn't called Mouth of the South for nothing, you know. He assured himself that he could get someone to talk to him. Even if that meant annoying the hell out of some poor stranger. Evan sighed to himself, still gazing at the castle, while rocking back in forth, still deep in thought. There was no way he was going to be able to find his way around. He wouldn't mind getting lost so much if he had at least one soul to get lost with. He frowned to himself. He was going to have to find someone to get lost with. That was that. Evan just wasn't the type of person that could handle being by himself.

Evan was secretly exited to be at Beauxbatons. It was something new. Evan had began to grow tired of the same old thing. Same teachers, same kids he'd known since second grade, same problems. Things here were new, interesting. Until he remembered the one thing that crushed his excitement. He wouldn't be able to have real food. He had to live of animal blood. Ew. Not that Evan just killed randomly people he saw. His mother was a nurse, she had access to blood nobody needed, and she brought it home for her kids. That way, he kids wouldn't be curious about what human blood tasted like. Not that Evan would be getting that anymore though. Daddy dearest had made sure of that. Stupid b**tard. Anger crashed over him like a wave. How could he even bother to show his face again after what he'd done?

His mother and sister made countless excuses, said he was different now. Evan though, would never forgive him. Ever. Evan inhaled deeply, pushing his thoughts to the back burner of his mind, with that his anger slowly but surely evaporated. Evan smiled to himself, gathering his things, and following the sea of students inside the doors, wondering what future awaited him inside.

welcome to cossu

[hranica]

First Name: Jacqueline

Last Name: Hranica

Age: Sixteen

Appearance:
Appearance

Her hair is a dark brown originally. Sometimes she will dye it black or blonde depending up on her mood at the time. Her eyes are green and brown orbs that match her father's eyes. Jacqueline is around five foot seven, five foot eight and weights around one-hundred and ten pounds. Her skin is fair pale that compliments her body. Always she stands straight and proper with good etiquette. Her ears are not pierced and no tattoos on her skin.

History:
Edwin and Valerie were married on June 13, 1992 three days after their daughter was born and in their lives. They named their daughter Jacqueline Alyse Hranica and she would continue to be the only child in their lives. Even though Jacqueline had started out as a mistake they loved being parents and decided they really wanted to make their relationship work. Valerie and Edwin’s parents did not approve of their eloping around and having a daughter at such an early age of twenty, but they loved their granddaughter anyway of course. Jacqueline was a fine granddaughter of wealthy grandparents and also a wealthy daughter of two newly wedded couple.

The Hranica’s moved into a big house to bring up their daughter in the finest living, which gave her her personality. Jacqueline grew up to think she was the best thing ever born and that’s what she thought until her grandparents knocked her off her high horse one day. She grew up with a tutor and never attended an actual school. Her parents wanted their daughter to have a better education and not. Jac did not mind being alone most of the time when her parents acted more like friends than actual parents. They let her do anything she wanted when she wanted. Growing up was easy for her and she enjoyed it.

Sometimes her parents allowed the neighbor’s children to come over to play with their daughter, but it wasn’t very often. They wanted the perfect people around their daughter and in their lives. Anything not fit for them was thrown away like trash. Jacqueline was fine having anyone around her, but it wasn’t that simple in her family. Deep down Jacqueline is a big softy, but she doesn’t want anyone to know that. She has this “being weak” thing stuck into her head and she can’t stand looking weak in front of anyone. Also she has a thing about her appearance. Jac feels like she has to be a certain way to be pretty and she will do anything, anything to keep herself how she is. If there is any change she will dramatically change to fix the problem.

Jacqueline is a very intelligent girl and has a lot of common sense. She likes doing the best in everything and will do anything to achieve it. When she is around people she tries to act somewhat nice, but she doesn’t want them to think they can walk all over her. She stands up for herself very well and doesn’t mind putting her views out there. Jac also listens to anyone who has something to say. She likes hearing other people’s point of views, but it’s her way or the highway. Compromising is fine, but it mostly has to be her way.

By the time she was sixteen Jacqueline had friends of the finest etiquette and the rich and lavish. Her parents had picked out her friends making sure she was with the best of the best. Often there were lavish dinners at the Hranica house giving them the chance to talk and meet more people. Their world turned upside down when a letter came in from Beauxbatons describing how their daughter, Jacqueline was a witch. They did not approve of this new finding and tried to return the letter telling the school they made a mistake. Finding out it was the truth they had no other choice than to send their perfect daughter to this imperfect school. So Jacqueline packed up her things and headed to Beauxbatons to start anew.

[Will become more detailed once carriage is up.]

Personality:
Jacqueline used to be a quiet, soft-spoken girl, but after her mother left she has became another person. Her father fears for the worst when he’s not busy with his work. She is now quiet, but can be loud when she wants to be. Usually she’s sweet and nice to everyone until she starts noticing their flaws, then they become revolting to her. Jac thinks everyone is the same and that no one is worth getting to know. After her mother left she thinks everyone will run out on her so she prefers not to have that many friends. Once you get on her bad side you will forever be on her bad side. She does not mind getting her hands dirty to make your life miserable. Everything is fair game once you start something with her. If she does make friends she protects them as much as she can and is extremely loyal to them. She tries to get along with everyone, but once you make her mad it’s already too late and you will be ignored by her. Often times she thinks she’s the best thing out there because of how her father raised her. Since she is an only child she likes to believe she’s better than everyone else, but she knows it’s wrong. Jacqueline as major trust issues with everyone. She doesn’t like her father at all since he’s never home and he never went after her mother when she left.

Perfect:
The looks, intelligent, level-headed, feet on the ground, loyal, honest (even if she’s harsh), persuasive.

Flaws:
Sometimes fake, rude, can be loud, feels like if she eats a lot she will gain a lot of weight, trust issues, persuasive, blunt, sarcastic, believes she’s better than everyone else.

Sample RP:
Looking to her parents with some type of hope that they would lighten their moods a bit. Since the letter came from that school her parents had been nothing but angery. Edwin and Valerie Hranica had told the parents as soon as the second letter came and even they, her loving and dearing grandparents, found the letter horrific. It explained the odd occurrences of unexplained phenomenon for the past sixteen years of her life. Maybe once she went away for a little while and told them of the school they would be more reasonable. They had not even gave the school a chance. The Hranica's had already told their friends that she would not be around much since they were sending her to a private all girl's boarding school in England.

Biting her lower lip gingerly she choked when she went to say good-bye to them. Did they even deserve that? Lately they had been calling her names like 'Witch' and go tell her why doesn't she just fly over to the school. Jacqueline was sure that that wouldn't be too easy to do even with magic. She didn't even have anything for school. Would everyone else already have their stuff? Already she knew she would be the odd one out and the loner, but she didn't mind. It would have been nice to have one person to talk to on the train. Atleast she remembered to bring a book or two with her to keep the train ride more interesting. Looking back over at the train as the horn blasted through the chitter chatter on the station. "I guess is this is when I go," she said, but it sounded more like a question. Jac wanted to be reassured by her parents.

Her parents stared down at her and she felt like they didn't like her anymore. What happened to her fun loving almost teenagerish parents? Ever since that damn letter came everything had turned upside down. Was she no longer perfect like they had imagined? Valerie sighed and put her arms around her daughter trying to wonder why on earth this had to happen to them? "Don't worry. We'll send you letters and see you during the breaks." "Okay," said Jacqueline before biting on her lower lip again. "Dad?," she asked giving him another hopeful look. Why were they acting like she did this on purpose? "Hn?," he asked looking at his daughter with a bit of disgust. "Make sure to take care of yourself. You're a Hranica. Make good choices and make us proud." Sighing hearing what she did not want to hear at all. "Yes, Dad," she said before moving out of her mother's arms and picking up her bag.

Putting the bag on her shoulder she picked up her suitcase and didn't look back. Maybe she wouldn't go to break when it came. If they were going to treat her like this she was going to teach them a lesson. Maybe not even send them letters when they wanted and let them worry about her, and that's if they cared enough for their only daughter. Her first steps on the train made her frightened. Never before had she been this far from her family, but she had to stand on her two feet. She was a Hranica, strong and independent person. Sighing non-hopefully she walked through the first cart she saw and began looking for a compartment to sit in. Finding one she sat down and looked out the window. Her parents were already walking away. No good-bye? Angerly she looked away from the window and looked to her bag. Opening the bag with fustration she picked up her book The Pride and the Prejudice and began reading where she last left off as the train began to move towards its destination.

[Sorry if there are any mispellings. The Spell Check will not work.]

it was tough, but welcome to sournois

[tinsley]

First Name:

Tinsley Adea

Last Name:

Carmichael

Age:

16

Appearance:

History:

When she was born, Tinsley's parents were already rich, and she lived a charmed life, with her older brother to protect her from all of the evils of the world. She was a happy child until the age of nine, when her mother cheated on her father, and ran off with a younger man. Although the children expected their father to be devastated, he covered up his feelings and threw himself into his work. He hired a live-in sitter/nanna for his children, and when he was home, he never looked at them. They were both the spitting image of their mother, a willowy greek/persian beauty, and reminded him of her. Over the years, Tinsley Adea Carmichael became a hardened, unfeeling girl, who played with boy's affections, and did what she wanted when she wanted. However, the feelings of intense loyalty that stemmed from her brother's protection still exist, and when she learns to trust someone, they have her respect and loyalty until the end of the earth.

Personality:

Tinsley is a classic rich girl, with a pair of extremely rare violet blue eyes, that stem from her mother's race. She was raised well for the early part of her life, but after her mother left, she was taught to be harsh and cold, for she looked to her father as a role model. She is straightforward, and will tell you exactly how she feels about you, whether you ask for her opinion or not. She will do whatever it takes to win, because in her mind, everything is fair game - everything. Tinsley also finds it very difficult to trust people, and breaking down the wall she has put up takes a lot of effort. If you are willing to put in the effort though, it is very rewarding, and you will have her support and loyalty for eternity. Being the center of attention is everything to her, and she will do whatever it takes to be in the limelight.

Good:

very loyal, very confident, hospitable, supportive.

Bad:

snide, conniving, afraid to trust, very confident.

Sample RP:

A slight breeze ruffled the dark, bedhead curls on Tinsley Carmichael's scalp, and as she reached up to scratch her temple, she felt a leaf in her hair. She at once thought it to be a bug, and a loud scream issued itself from her mouth in disgust. She had a hatred for all things creepy or crawly, with only one exception, being snakes. She had one back at home, because she found them to be just as exotic and misunderstood as she was, although she would never let in on that. Standing outside of Beauxbatons was frightening enough, just as it was to start a new school. She had been to two other schools before this, but hadn't liked either of them. Not that she could get the boys off of her, they clung like spider monkeys. They, she could handle.

The thing Tinsley Adea Carmichael hated most about switching schools was that she had to form new relationships, and she found that to be a very dull and tedious process. All of her young life was sheltered, because her live-in nanny kept her brother and Tinsley inside to study. They had always found it fitting to cut up when she did this, especially on the nicer days, but the way the violet-eyed girl had been treated as a child had stuck with her through her teenage years, and she now had a difficult time trusting anyone at all. It was something she had to work on, she knew, and it didn't come easily, but the problem was that she didn't want to work on it. She was content to be a nasty, vile person for the rest of her life, except to those few who looked past her snide comments and smirks, and cared enough to get down deep and get to know her. They were the ones worth fighting for, and their efforts always paid off, as Tinsley was extremely loyal. Unfortunately, seeing as she was starting off at a new school, she didn't have any of these people, did she now?

With a grumble, Tinsley hitched her owl's cage a little higher on her hip, and started into the castle, strutting like a model on her never-ending legs. They were perfect and tan, her make-up and hair were to die for, and she was dressed to kill. Who wouldn't love her?

[/blockquote]

Sample RPs must be in the perspective of the character being applied for. Please fix this and I can sort you. ^^

fixed

Must be Sournois

[bellanotte]

First Name: Maybelline "Maybe"

Last Name: Delacroix

Age: Sixteen

Appearance: click!

• Snoopy tattoo on lower back
  
• Bar code tattoo above belly button
  
• Leopard spot tattoos on left ankle

History:

So what if she was named after her mother's favorite mascara. So what if she was raised in a junky inner city. So what if she was born a Half-Blood. Maybelline "Maybe" Demetria was born unique to Mezghan and Laszlo Delacroix on a bitter May morning. Wisps of chestnut colored tresses crowned her head, complete with a set of shining chocolate eyes. The world of Maybe Delacroix was one-block wide and ridden with simplicity. The world of Maybe Delacroix was Wyomissing, Pennsylvania.

No one expected anything big to happen in Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania was Pennsylvania, and Maybe was this protected little thing on a pedastal. The Delacroixs' one-floor was nestled deep in a field of grass; it took an hour to get to the Square. The town was wide enough to leave Maybe feeling herself as a mystery. She was a reckless child nonetheless, leaving a trail of crayons and broken glass in her path.

Her mother was diagnosed with leukemia at Maybe's age of five. The Delacroixs relocated to an abandoned firehouse and selected that as their home. Her father practically lived at the hospital to serve his wife's needs; Maybelline became dependent on her elder sister Bambi and her uttermost best friend, the best friend she was attatched at the hip with. Living off of those two slowly rebuilt Maybe's shattered persona. It seemed like life had taken a turn for the better, until Mezghan's battle ended. The death of a spouse was too much for Laszlo. He shut himself away and said nothing. After a suicide attempt at age thirteen, Maybe spent a week in a mental hospital.

A single letter at age sixteen shed light on the young girl's life. Beauxbatons. Maybelline agreed to attend to escape from the life she was imprisoned into.

Personality:

Maybe is a very creative person. She loves to draw, sing, and write. Very random at times, she'll burst out into a song and dance number or just blurb out whatever comes to mind. She can change her mind at the last minute, or start something and abandon it after a few tries. She's always been a curious and rowdy child with a loud voice fit for the queen herself, but her attitude has softened since the passing of her beloved mother. She was a nuisance at family reunions and the town's little freakshow. The Square emptied as they heard her footsteps nearing, her screech louder as she approached. She was pleasant to be around at times nonetheless, very down-to-earth.

Maybe is quite the hyprocrite despite the bounce in her step. She'll be one without even realizing it, and once she does, it's unlikely she'll be the first person to correct it. She's clumsy as well; tripping over stacks of books laid on the floor and sporting bruises with no alibi behind it. She'll be stupid and sandwich an egg in between her forefinger and the base of her thumb to see if it will break (which, of course, will). She's quite the rebellion, having gotten her tattoos at age fourteen by dressing up and claiming to be eighteen. She can pull a convincing lie or two as well to save her butt or to make herself look good.

Maybe is an intelligent person. She received amiable marks in school and was praised for them, but wasn't modest enough to keep her grades under wraps. She'd gladly trumpet her accomplishment to anyone who would ask (and to some who didn't at all). She has a tendency to humble herself to gain more of a compliment she'd received. She can worry too much about one thing even after a boatload of reassurance. After getting to know her, Maybe can be quite the shopaholic sometimes. The value of money is always on her mind, though it can slip at times. She lives for sarcasm and treats it as a second language. She could never deny a clever comeback.

Sample RP:

The apples shone like rubies against green velvet. The bark was coarse and mossy. Maybe gave the tree a stroke with her forefinger and rubbed the soft green substance into her palm. The grass tickled her bare feet and hugged her toes. The solitary feel of the orchard cast a sense of security over the girl. She dug her knee into the tree and shaved some dirt into her sock. She reached up and cupped an apple into her curled fingers, comparing this texture with the ridges of the trunk.

The freedom of lonely serenity was something Maybe would kill for. She twisted the fruit away from the branch. The stem seperated with a satisfactory snap and fell into the teenager's open grasp. Its rich red shape fitted in her palm, speckled and crimson. Late summer mosquito bites paraded up and down on her forearm. She lifted the fruit to her mouth and took in a breath.

Maybe was difficult to sort...but I'm thinking Cossu.

[riley]

First Name: Riley

Last Name: O'Connell

Age: 17

Appearance:

History: Nobody is aware of how Riley's parents dissappeared off the face of the planet. Both of her parents were only childs and both of their parents seemed to be nonexistant too. Basically, it's been Riley on her own for her entired life. Except for the part when she was born and her parents were still alive and exisited in their happy little life. She was known to be born in Ireland on a foggy day on St. Patrick's Day. Riley doesn't remember anything of her past when she was with her parents that one year. Just days after her birthday, her parents disappeared and she was found in a burning building. Firemen had saved her and since her parents weren't around, they sent her to the Orphanage where she would spend most of her life growing up there.

Riley could only remember things from when she was five. Her memory was better now and she can recall any memories from five years old and up. Ask her about her toddler years she won't be able to tell you anything. She didn't really stand out at first since most people in Ireland had red hair and are known for their red heads. Just like most people, Riley had red hair. Five years old she was definatly set apart from the others. She had a sense of energy that nobody else had. She grew up being a headstrong girl and taking crap from nobody. She got her 'Don't mess with her.' title from being so dependent. Buy age ten she could earn money and felt free almost. It felt like she was already grown up and could do anything she wanted. Unfortunatly for her, she still had curfew and was only ten years old and technically had to follow certain rules too. The orphanage paid for her to go to school, and she had many friends because she was so outgoing and open minded. There was no discrimination against anybody. There were only a few since some people didn't like her because of her attitude she had. Riley ignored all of it since she knew she was perfectly fine.

High school came around and Riley took a risk and turned her dull red hair to orange with some yellow in it. She turned to skinny jeans, bright clothes, and was accepted by many. Cheerleaders wanted her to be on the team since she had a loud voice and was oh so popular in their eyes. Teachers didn't like her since she fooled around a lot, but she maintained her B average in school so they couldn't complain all to much. Turning fifteen wasn't all that big of a deal to Riley like it was to most freshman. Of course, she had no clue what was coming at her when she did turn fifteen. She was in science class and they were burning elements and writing down what color they were burning. It was a fun thing to do for Riley. Her and her partner was burning copper at the time and Riley misjudged the distance between the fire and the cotton swab. Her hand was inside the fire. Usually when someone gets burned, they pull right away since it hurts, but for Riley she didn't feel a thing. Her hand was inside the fire and everybody around her was freaking out. Riley pulled her hand out of the fire and there wasn't a mark on her hand. The nurse was quite surprised and Riley began to wonder.

She got home and then looked at her hands for awhile. She concentrated so hard on them that her hands burst into flame. She was smart enough not to freak out and then tightened her muscles and the fire on her hands lifted into the air and formed it into perfect spheres. This was something new to her and she wanted to know more. A year passed and Riley only found out a little bit more. By now she was a junior and seventeen with red hair that you could spot anywhere if she was in a crowd. She dyed it the color of red in the fire. Nobody quite knew about her freakish nature and wasn't about to tell anybody in the future. The end of the year came to a close and Riley found about this place in France where they had an academy for people who had out of the ordinary talents. Riley wondered what this was all about and soon a letter came to her front door; an acceptance letter.

Personality: Riley is a very dependent girl. She's been alone her whole life and can take care of herself perefectly well. She's a fun person to hang out with and can be quite daring with her adventures. She's got this daring personality that makes her want to take risks. Wasting life is not what Riley has in mind. She is highly musical. She has a fantastic voice and loves to sing all the time. Humming in class, singing in the shower, and people even told her she sings in her sleep.

It's amazing that she still maintains her slim body shape. She eats a ton of food. Almost all the time she's chewing something whether it's gum, or food or whatever. Besides having a dependent personality, she's earned the saying, don't mess with me and you want a piece of me? She hates it when people take advantage of her. She thinks of it this way: if you don't like getting walked over, start sticking up for yourself and walk over them. She can be a brute sometimes, but when you catch her good side, she's a sweeite. She tends to speak her mind also. This has often gotten her in trouble. She's also a hypocrite too. Riley only is because she doesn't want people ending up like her since she doesn't really like her life all to well.

Sample RP: The landscape around her looked as if it had just rained. It also had that smell that it just rained. That was her favorite smell. It was a calm sensation and Riley closed her eyes savoring it. It wasn't often that something so peacful like this comes around so often. In seconds Riley opened her eyes and walked in a new direction. The moment was over. She didn't feel like she needed to stand there forever looking across the wide spread of farm field no doubt full of potatos. Despising potatoes was probably a sin in Ireland. It's all they grew and took pride in it. She heard that the United States would call a certain state something if it was good at making something so well. Like Florida being the tangerine state. Or was it the orange state? Maybe it wasn't even a fruit state. Riley didn't have a clue. But if Ireland was part of the States, they would certaintly call it the potato state. Surely there was none other like it that made so many potatoes in a year.

Riley walked into town and surveyed the area. Markets here, people there, salemen wanting you to buy something everywhere, and it was all mushed into one small area. Hardly any place to walk. Dumb heads. Why didn't they spread it out a little more so people could actually walk!? Riley wondered and negativly thought. A gust of wind blew into her face and disturbed her bright red hair. Riley quickly covered her head and then fixed it. Maybe controlling the wind would be cooler than fire. Riley didn't need much thought to deny that wonder. Everywhere she looked she looked into the faces of people she would never know. She felt like she needed to ask them if they had any magical ability like she had? Was this normal? Has there really been another world living among us the whole time? It would explain why she burnt off a little boys eyebrows when she was seven when she got angry at him. Or the time she she was afraid for the first time at a man and when she opened her eyes up again he was in a small cage that was not comfortable looking at all and not the right fit.

Riley puzzled more than intened and then focused back to reality. Quickly making her way out of the market she headed her butt over to her friends farm. Maybe he would entertain her. He always did somehow, either if it was something stupid he did or if he did crack a joke that she felt was funny and witty. Yes, that seemed like a good idea. Just go with the flow Riley. It'll come together once you arrive at that one school.

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

I do see Cossu traits, but personality wise I am thinking Rouerie!

[teeksanator]

First Name: Denis

Last Name: Belcher

Age: 15

Appearance:

---

Denis is 5'4, slightly overweight and pale. His hair is a reddish-blond; thin and a bit long - his bangs coming to his eyes, and the sides coming over his ears, and then long sideburns that nearly reach his chin on either side. His eyes are blue, and generally covered by thick-rimmed glasses. For the most, he wears hats - varying in style frequently.

History: Denis was born in Paris, to an unmarried muggle couple. His mother took off after he was born, and he has not ever met her. As for his father, the man is a drunk and lives in a run-down apartment down in the slums of Paris. Denis lives with his grandmother, his father's mother, who's current (and 2nd) husband is a wizard, having attended Durmstrang.
Ever since he was 4, Denis has obsessively watched horrible black and white horror flicks, coming from any part of the world, and they are his one real passion.

Personality: Having spent most of his adolescence locked up in his house, watching old horror movies, and generally hiding away from social gatherings and relationships - Denis is rather soft-spoken and withdrawn in social situations. Behind closed doors, he's a little more hyperactive, and excitable, though the soft-spoken part of him remains intact.
His self-esteem could use a boost, but he's rather bold and that passionate side of him shows up in other situations. Since he's a bit of a bleeding-heart, he will defend those who are in need of it - though he's somewhat passive due to his lack of courage with other people, and will often give in when criticized, though he remains filled with guilt from that moment on.

Sample RP: "Denis! Come down stairs!" The excitement in the old woman's voice was apparent, but Denis Belcher didn't budge. No, he stayed right there on the fuzzy orange rug, directly in front of his small television set in his bedroom.

On the screen before him was the end of Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, flickering on his 3rd rate technology in it's original VHS form. "Just a moment," he mumbled in response, though not nearly loud enough for her to have actually heard him, had she been standing in the room with him.

Five minutes passed, and the credits began to roll. Denis, who had been sitting with his legs under him, stretched them out and made a small exasperated noise. Pushing up his cap slightly to scratch his head, he used his toe to turn off the television. He turned onto his knees and stood up, not coming up past the television's top which sat on a shelf in front of the window sill.

Denis adjusted his sweat pants and left his room, flicking off the light on his way out. Rounding only one corner, he entered the kitchen where his grandmother sat with bacon and eggs across from her, quite obviously waiting for him; as his grandfather stood in front of the counter near the refrigerator, pouring himself a drink.

"Yes, gram-gram?" he asked quietly, sitting down in front of the plate set out for him. His grandmother beamed, but his grandfather spoke first. "What were you doing?"

"Watching Cabinet of Dr. Caligari," he muttered, poking at the eggs in front of him.

"Again?"

"Mhm."

"Nevermind that," his grandmother said suddenly, the same excitement from earlier in her voice. "Denny, you're going to Beauxbatons!" Denis glanced up at her, not caring for the nickname she refused to stop addressing him by, with a quirked eyebrow.

"The magic school? ...Right?" he said, looking back and forth between the two. His grandfather nodded with what couldn't be considered anything but a proud look.

Denis remained silent for a while, staring down at his food with a contemplative look on his face. He bit his lip and his eyebrows drew together. When he looked back up at his grandparents, he smiled shyly and said, "Oh. Cool." 'Why would they want me?' he wondered as he finally took a bite of bacon.

This is a tough one! Hmmm, I am thinking you'll do great in Rouerie!

[coconutsugar]

First Name:

-Angela- Angel

Middle name:

Michelle

Last Name:

Stellar

Age:

Seventeen forever.

Appearance:

Angel seems to have a wicked idea that started her own sets of trends, will let people know how much she doesn't give a fxck about what they think. Her dressing is of her own style, from different types from 'Emo' to 'Goth' to 'Scene' and even to 'Punk'. Angel's hair stands in layers upon layers, the color can certainly be unknown because she tends to change it drastically from week to week. For she has no specific favorite. The length would most likely be at least two inches below shoulder length, with many, many layers; which only leads to many different ways to play and fool around with it. Her skin tone is a rather porcelain in tone, with the effects of vampirism lingering thick in her veins. Because of her constant idea of outgoing and play she has developed a rather well done body frame. The outline of an hour glass, yet the rest seemed toned. She can seem a tad too skinny though, for once she had suffered from an eating disorder when she was just a pure-blood.

Fingers are long and gentle, but yet rough when in the mood. She masters in bass and violin (more so vocals anyway) so her fingers are lucky to be so gentle. The nails are mainly in a french styled manicure but with different colors and blends to go along with it and seem more different. Her legs are semi-long as her feet a size 7 and a half to 8 in footwear. Piercings, she has many, along with a few cute tattoo's. Both sides of her nose is pierced, her tongue, right side of bottom lip, along with the septum. She has a tattoo of a tiny pink star on her left hand, near the thumb and forefinger; just below it. Oh yes, she also stands at the height of 5'5.

History:

Born October 30th, Angela, or more known of Angel was born into a rich family of which was consumed by all that is 'holy' (pure-blooded) they wanted nothing but power and riches. Angel did not care what the hell was going on about them, she just wanted to have fun and cut loose. Be a teenager for as long as she could and remember the days like they were not that long ago. Her parents, Veronica Stellar and Carlos Stellar, just would not allow it. She was not an only child, for her two elder brothers were always there; hell one even worked in the school she attended. In which, they treated her like a baby. Always telling her what is right and wrong and what and what not to do. Angel hated it more then anything, and so the rebellious streak began.

First it all started when she began to hang around the wrong crowd at the age of 10, their fun and games seemed to happen around smokes and anything else that could probably harm the entire human body. She did not care, so she followed in. Smoking at such an early age; truly saddening. Her parents caught her in the act and even saw her smoking around one of her brothers, they were very disappointed and angry at Angel. So punishments were much harsher then ever before. Still not giving a single s**t, she took the formal and girly look they made her dress and ripped and trended her own clothes, or just bought new 'funky' ones. Then with the help of her eldest brother, Franzi (whom she called Franny), dyed her hair to a bright, bright red. Her first change of color, and she adored it.

Punishments seemed to slide against her with everything they thrown and she did not care at whatever they thought. Even the idea of what blood was what did not matter to her, as long as they were either cool enough to hang around with or just had something about them that gave her respect to them. Years went past and she began to attend the Beauxbatons Academy, her brother a /student/ teacher as her other brother [eighteen] was just a year ahead. They each looked out for her, but not enough to make her feel crowded. When she left for Christmas break while she was seventeen (five-four months ago) to go to a friends house to 'party up'; they went to a local club somewhere in the city only did the wrong person lure her in. He was dark, mysterious, sexy and devious. She loved the sight she saw and the attitude he gave, while he, he just liked the way she smelt the way she, herself, portrayed her outer acts. In the end, did one thing lead to another and soon enough she woke up with bite marks on her body and a week later. The transformation began. It all started with her beauty, then the odd bits she had received from drugs and such going away, after that her strength and you get the rest. She was bewildered, and her family was terrified. Mostly just of her and how she could be; plus add in the fact that she was no longer 'one of them'. Her brothers stuck in for her though and tried to help her our greatly. For this was an actual time where she was afraid.

Angel is still looking for the damn one-night-stand with the vampire hottie that turned her. But then again, she is also having the time of her life. Think of it this way; she can do as many drugs and s**t she wants and never die because of it. Party up dears, party up. Then again, I forgot to add what she had gained from this 'turning'. A vampire ability that can be sometimes rare to get, not mind reading, seeing the future, or levitation but it was more on the verge of illusions. Yes, that is right, Angel can make illusions see in front of someone's eyes that is not truly there. If she looses her cool, her anger can possibly take the best of her and form some sort of illusion of the persons worst fear. Angel has yet to control this, and only time can tell if she ever can.

Personality:

Angel seems to sharp tongued for her own good. Her mouth can lead her to very dangerous or troublesome places, along with bad results that lead the way, or maybe if she's lucky enough; good spots and answers. But she can never hold her tongue no matter what. Very opinionated yet open minded enough to try new things, although she can be rather stubborn if one looks into it. She is not really naive to anything, for she knows all about sex, drugs, alcohol and everything else. Then again, she pays no mind to what can happen for she is a vampire. They can inhabit no disease, but can only get weakened by the sun if they are in it for 6-8 hours straight.

Other then anything of a sharp tongued and sarcastic tone, she can be very protective and kind towards her friends.Yet she does joke around, thankfully, they know when she is or isn't. Angel has a hard time trying to cover her emotions, as her wrath is easy to see and seek if you say the right words and at a good timing with a good topic. It can be rather difficult to hit a sore spot for Angel, but when you do, watch out. She is highly flammable you know.

Creative and a definite thinker of the sorts and trades. Mostly she surrounds her time basked in the midst of her music, a muggle device called an i-Pod is her best friend and she barley goes anywhere without it. Along with her notebook, in which she keeps to write random songs or anything else that pops into her brain. But if it ever comes to drawings, HAH, her stick figures still look like blobs. No matter, we all have our faults and not are all perfect you know. Vampirisum can't help her in the drawing area and she is not afraid to admit it. She is a smoker and tends to do drugs, along with being a rather loud and obnoxious little thing. With one who appears so small, she can always be the one to cause a party and make it wild. Angel is not shy, and with her not caring of speak, that can be a problem. But no worries, when it comes to family and friends, she is always there for you no matter what. Hell, she will set a guys house on fire if you break her girl friends heart.

Sample RP:

The loud buzzing from the alarm clock rung throughout Angel's dorm like an overly annoying squeal from a girly girl. Ugh, the wretched sound. Turning over into her bed did she only slam her hand against the side table and it smashed the alarm clock into bits, then she turned back into her comfortable position once more. Snuggling into the pillow did Angel seemed to hear the same damn buzzing. Any normal human would not be able to hear it, but she was not human; but a vampire instead so the sound was like the same tone but slightly weaker. Slightly. Growling under her breath and thrusting over, she took the book from beside her and rammed it right on top of the alarm. Finally, it was silenced “Take that you hxe!” and with a light snicker did she finally get out of bed.

Feet touching the wooden floors below, Angel quickly got changed and walked out and into the dorm room. She held her i-Pod in one hand and a book in the other. The book was just one she had found in the library that intrigued her, nothing much really. Nibbling on her bottom lip and running her free hand through her hair, she read constantly and never looked away. Already on the third chapter she was; thankful of her fast eyes. A sudden sound of 'LOOK OUT' came into her ears and without even looking up, Angel caught whatever was being thrown in her hand at an incredible pace. Then, she threw it back with so much force that it left a black skid mark on the grounds when it landed. After that, she continued on with her reading.

Book-bag swaying to her side as she adjusted her uniform did she finally place up a book mark and slip it into the bag. Her hair was a blue and green-ish today, layered and styled with a pretty hot pink headband that was rather thin. Skipping down the hallway with a rather well done smirk on her face, she caught the eyes of some fresh meat new students. They rather well eyed her quite a bit for her hair and piercings, along with the way she wore her uniform. Angel stuck her tongue out at them, the silver piercing showing as she mocked them all. They can stare, she doesn't care. For she lives her own life and follows her own damn rules. Soon enough the bell rung and she began to quicken her pace to the point of, to a human, she was a blur. No one shall be late today.

[/font][/size]

Just a reminder... electronics won't work in the castle. Only magcal devices. Also, you mentioned sex, drugs and alcohol.. just make sure you've read the rules on those things. :)

Must be Sournois

[elvraalegria]

First Name:

Elvra

Last Name:

Alegria

Age:

Sixteen

Appearance:

An appearance like none other, her mother used to say. Near black hair with the barest hints of brown in the sunlight was a striking contrast to her pale skin. Her eyes, a turquoise aquatic colour that made her seem an enigma. She was obsessed over her appearance, however. Spending hours in front of a mirror, curling her hair until it fell softly in waves down her back, placing multitudes of potions upon her skin until it shone in the light. But beware, you'll never see her hair off her neck without a glamour charm. For she has ears far too large for her frame! But don't tell anyone, or you may find your own ears missing. Not tall enough to be intimidating, not short enough to be the line of a joke, she sits calmly in the middle. Her non-existent curves have also been a sore spot for her in her life. But no matter, she has the personality to make up for it!

History:

Born on the 17th of June to the Paris Opera House benefactors Edward Jonathan and Marie Victoire Alegria, she was a baby that rarely cried. Her parents both fretted over her, being an only child after her older brother had died at birth. She carries her father's initials, Elvra Josaphine Alegria, while her parents hoped for years for another son. She attended primary school at their summer cottage in Provence, often manipulating her advisers to think she was fascinated with a subject that required her to go outside and play with the other children of the nearby village almost constantly.

It took some of the smartest instructors in the region nearly three years to realize her scheming. From age 8 onward, she was educated in traditional magical and society subjects: potions, charms, history, dancing, accounting, French, English, and Italian. At age 10 she moved to Italy to live with her aunt for the fall. One fateful day in October she learned that her beloved southern cottage had caught a flame from the kitchen; her mother making it a day after the fire and her father no more than a week. After this, the orphaned Elvra decided to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to follow in her father's British lineage. Her fellow Slytherins were always causing trouble, but it was with her Ravenclaw friends where she really felt at home.

As the years passed she grew to miss her native France too much and made the decision with her caretaker, Aunt Caroline, to transfer to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Now she waits, nervously, to know where her path will take her now.

Personality:

Elvra can only be described as a firecracker in the rain. Someone who lays, quietly, taking everything in, always with a perfect posture and graceful stride. If you rile her up, she will burn you. She will recover quickly, you will feel the sore fester for a long while. The first one to scold you for having your elbows on the table or turning your steak knife outwards instead of in her social roots always stayed with her. Extremely self-conscious, she may come off as narcissistic in her ways. Her morning routine starts early, almost always before the sun rises to prepare herself for the day. Taking hours in the vanity room always annoyed her fellow housemates but they could never say a hard word against her appearance.

Even so, she was loved my all. Mostly. She had her faults, she couldn't stand to be bested in anything. If someone broke that eternal rule she could carry a grudge against them for years. However, with her colorful personality she was often one to make you laugh when you were sad, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen. Before the vengeful virago, first and foremost was a friend and a loyal one to the death.

She may fend well for her self in a party of many but her true nature comes with a small group of friends arguing politics or philosophy over coffee and beignets.

Sample RP:

She was so tired. Her train had been late, then she had been late getting to the train, then her ticket wasn't processing, then once they got their filthy machines to work, the man next to her kept sending quite vulgar glances her way. There was no way in this life or the next that she was going to let that anywhere near her when she was unconscious. 'Muggles.' She thought warily. 'Why did Auntie make me travel that way? Oh yes... she glared bitterly at the interior of the car. 'To "improve my sense of culture." What stupidity. At least I'll be back in my world soon enough.'

As her driver pulled into the hotel she would stay at in Nice she barely had the strength to register to tip him in francs, not galleons. Thank the gods she had remembered that. She did not want to explain why she had a bunch of gold coins with strange markings in her pocket. At least the staff here was decently competent; she was checked in and escorted to her room immediately where her bags awaited her. Her room even had a fireplace, though she doubted it was connected to the Floo. She would just have to wait until morning to reintroduce herself to Parisian wizarding society. She had a few calls to make, a few choice words to say, and a few errands to run.

In the meantime, she needed a bath. A long hot one with vanilla and jasmine oils while she soaked away the knots in the back of her neck. She added a massage to her unofficial list of things to do tomorrow. She grabbed her schedule as she slipped into the heavenly water, looking over the next day's events and before she knew it, she was fast asleep. The next morning, she didn't even remember moving from the claw-foot basin to the bed.

Must be Sournois

[sylph]

First Name:
    
Evelyn

Middle Name:

Grace

Last Name:

Molyneux

Age:

16

Appearance:
    
Evelyn stands 5 feet, 3 inches tall. Her figure is lithe and willowy. She is the very image of her father, inheriting none of her mother's darker traits. Her skin is a milky alabaster, with a light smattering of freckles about the cheeks and nose. Evie's face is the very definition of heart-shaped. Her lips are a taught Cupid's bow. Her eyes complete her doll-like appearance and are a deep green. Atop her head sits an unruly tangle of wavy red hair.



History:

Evelyn was born on June 22, 1993 to Graham and Elizabeth Molyneux. She is the youngest of the pairs two children. Evelyn, or "Evie" as she is affectionately called by her family, passed the first 7 years of her life in a perfectly ordinary manner. She was doted on by her parents and was the favorite playmate of her brother Milo. Though she displayed only average talent for magic as child her parents agreed that she would be a great witch when she grew older.

Tragedy came at age seven in the form of a head injury that would put to rest any hopes her parents had entertained for her. While playing a makeshift game of quidditch with her older brother, Evie was struck in the back of the head with a bludger. She seemed perfectly fine after the accident, though she wailed and cried for her parents sympathy, walking away with only a small lump on her head and bruise on her ego. It wasn't until the next morning that the truth of the damage was revealed. Evie woke from her sleep in the late morning to total darkness. The girl's screams shook the house but there was nothing that could be done- she was destined to spend the rest of her life in blindness.

From that fateful morning forward, Evie's parents expectations changed drastically. They no longer hoped that she would study magic at all- after all, what was she fit for? Certainly she would never be able to defend herself against the dark arts or master the subtle art of transfiguring objects she couldn't even see. They resigned her, instead, to a quiet, sheltered home-life on the families country estate. To say that Evie was devastated would be understatement- she could scarcely cope with the loss of her vision and the loss of her magical future as well. To this day she is scarred, her behavior and moods teeter on the brink of insanity.

The Molyneux family tree is full of female seers- though the talent seems to skip a generation or two. No one even suspected that Evelyn had the seer ability until her early teens. Her ability is weak at present- occasionally she catches a glimpse of something in her minds eye that is happening at the same moment in far off place and she swears that she can sense the presence of others by their auras. Her ability to prophesy the future seems limited to her dreams and she retains no knowledge of them on waking. Her ability was discovered one night as she murmured details of her living uncle's untimely death in her sleep. Milo overheard these ramblings and when their unfortunate uncle did indeed pass he revealed what had happened to their parents.

While their daughters uncanny insight into morbid subjects would be discouraging to most parents it was a ray of hope for Evie's. Here at last was something Evie could excel at without her vision. With great happiness they allowed Evie to finally accept her invitation to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.


Personality:

Evelyn is a curious creature who faces several social challenges. Her mind is fraught with odd thoughts and visions and often she finds it difficult to concentrate. She is unable to organize her thoughts and feelings coherently and much of the time they flow from her lips in a stream of consciousness. Evie is very talkative and says whatever comes to her mind- regardless of how her companions will take it. This quality makes her liable to be found strange, if not a little crazy by all whom she encounters.

Evie is a terribly loving girl. She finds something to appreciate and admire in everyone. This is often to her peril- she never can determine who is dangerous and who is to be avoided. Anyone who is willing to look past her oddities will find a loyal and dependable friend. Perhaps because of her affliction, or the small life she lead, she is prone to cling to everyone she meets. She never can tell when her presence is excessive or unwanted. It devastates her to lose a friend or to find out that they never were a true friend to begin with.

Evie's emotions can turn on a dime. Usually she is calm and cheerful but she can be prone to moodiness. Censure and criticism, however mild, can send her into long bouts of self-pity. It must be admitted that Evie is terribly oversensitive.

Sample RP:

It was only ten o'clock on the morning that Evelyn Molyneux had come to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and already she was beginning to feel her limitations. Instead of being given free range like the other students, the small, sightless redhead stood before a motley assortment of faculty who had been fussing over her needs, as a blind student, for well over an hour. Their unfamiliar voices assailed her through the dark with a myriad of instructions about school life- all in a dreadful monotone. Evie fidgeted in the spot in which she stood but did her best to seem interested.

Finally, the relentless sermonizing ceased and the discussion turned to her room assignment. The number of her dorm room was pronounced and Evie quickly picked up the heavy black and white,  plaid valise that contained the majority of her worldly belongings in the hopes that she could escape these dreadful people. However well-meaning that they intended to be, they made her feel handicapped and useless and she longed to be rid of them. She turned, with her pale hand outstretched to search for the door she had come in hours prior but was stopped mid-step. Here, the staff turned to discussion on how the unfortunate cherub was to find her room in the rambling castle on her own and the group concluded that they must find her a chaperon.

"Couldn't my brother escort me?" Evelyn broke in, desirous to have some say in her fate of which no one seemed to feel should involve her. The question was met with an emphatic negative. Milo had two strikes against him- the first that he was a male and if someone this could be overlooked his second strike was an insurmountable challenge; he was sorted into a different house. A member of the opposite sex and house could not be permitted to go traipsing about the girls dormitories, even if he purpose was to aid his unseeing sister.

Instead, the staff sent word for an escort and Evie was presented with a Mrs. Blanch. Or was it Mrs. Blarch, or even possibly Blurch- a woman who spoke in tones equal to that of a rusty gate in such a low, hurried manner that most of her words blended into something quite incoherent. The command to escort Evelyn was given to her promptly on her entrance to the room and the Blanch woman, or Blurch or Blarch, gave a quick, curt nod. Traces of irritation showed themselves in her face and it was evident, to all but Evie, that she resented that this chore should fall to her lot when she had so many other pressing ones about the palace.

The woman turned quickly and grabbed Evelyn's free hand in her calloused one with a muttered, "'Ere child. Let's go." With her tiny pale hand in the Blanch/Blarch/Blurch woman's strong grip, Evie had little say in the matter and was forced to be lead about like a small child. The pair proceeded through the castle at a quick pace with Evelyn trailing as much as she could behind her escort. Occasionally the woman would issue a monotone description like, "entrance hall," of the room or hall that they passed but for much of the time they were silent. The only sound that greeted her young ears was the cacophony of their footsteps on the stone floor- the heavy, shuffling steps of her companion and the soft, halting ones of her own.

The quiet didn't bother Evelyn. For one, she found the woman disagreeable, though she hardly knew why, and two she had so many other things to occupy her scattered thoughts with than conversation. After being released from her escort she would be on her own- the sole master of navigation through the halls. It was imperative that she learn her way quickly and she tasked herself with counting her steps. Calculations like, "Forty-seven, Forty-eight, Forty-nine, left," occupied her thoughts and she fervently hoped her overwrought brain would be able to recall these instructions later.

After more than 2000 paces, by her estimate, they arrived at the room her escort described as the common room through which there were several flights of stairs ascending to the dormitories. While the rest of the castle had been relatively empty, the common room teemed with life. Students stood laughing and speaking with the excitement of the new term and Evie could hardly separate the voices in the darkness to come to any definitive guess about the number present or their location. She was pulled through the room, her head held high and her green orbs unseeing. If she had been able to see the looks of skeptical curiosity that followed her perhaps, for the first time in her life, she would have been thankful for her blindness.

As it was, a deadly hush fell over the room as her contemporaries took in the spectacle. Here was the small, fiery redhead being pulled like a petulant child by the stoic Mrs. Blarch. Evelyn was dressed, in her usual habit, completely in white; clad in a skirt, cardigan and canvas plimsolls all of the same spotless white hue. The color blended seamlessly with her alabaster skin tone and only helped heighten her appearance as an innocent, young school child being lead by the hand. Whispers followed in a sound that was like a gentle current of water. Evie did not turn her head, and did all she could not to acknowledge anything around her. To all outward appearances she seemed focused on her task but her embarrassment was tantamount.

After climbing 60 steps on the stairs and moving another 100 paces, 35 straight then left for another 65, the pair stopped and Evie could hear a heavy door knob being turned. "Here you are- number 27," Blarch announced and stepped forward inside the room. The dorm was a cheery one- the walls painted in a friendly yellow hue, a tall ceiling and a large dual pane window a the wall opposite the door. Two double beds, a tall mahogany wardrobe and desk were present- the standard school fare. Someone had took extra pains to make it livable and placed a seating area in one corner- a sofa upholstered in an odd muted orange plaid, and two matching chairs.

The room was to Evie exactly the same as every other she had passed- a dark void with dubious composition. She merely sighed softly and attempted to adjust to the idea of this unfamiliar place being her new home. The Blarch woman, expecting the normal effusion of delight and pleasure the sillier sighted girls would have expressed, turned to look at her charge with some scrutiny. For the first time she noted how very small, very pale and very frightened Evelyn appeared and began to feel some pity for the blind child. The hard set lines of irritation and weariness eased in her face and she asked, "Shall I describe it to you?"

Evelyn's head pivoted in the womans direction, surprised at this sudden tone of sympathy. "Oh, wow," she said in her lilting tones, "Description is quite useless really. But... if you could- could you tell me where things are?" Her cheeks flushed crimson with a rare feeling of wounded pride and she continued abruptly, "Like on a clock face. It helps if you describe things on a clock face. Like the bed is at two o'clock or two thirty..." The Blarch woman nodded and turned her curious gaze from Evelyn to the room around her. Each object she named and then described to Evelyn, who took silent note in the same fashion that she counted steps earlier.

When she had finished a silence filled the space around the pair again. The Blarch woman still held Evelyn's in her own, unthinkingly she had never stopped. Unexpectedly, Evie drew the hand up to her parched pink lips. After a quick peck, she released her hand and said caressingly, "Thank you. You've been so lovely." Her soft ginger eyebrows knitted in something of serious contemplation- she had no idea why she had just done that. It was impetuous, it was a whim- and long ago she had decided that all whims were beautiful and to be followed. It was Evelyn.

The Blarch woman stared down at the tiny girl with a look of sheer incredulity. She felt moved and humbled in the girls presence- a novel feeling but one she wished to be through with. "If there's nothing else you need," she said as Evie shook her head decisively. The woman crossed the threshold in two long strides and looked over her shoulder to examine Evelyn once more. The girl was a queer one and it didn't seem likely that she would last long at the Academy. "Good luck child," she said with hard sincerity and rushed from the room. Evelyn stood where she was left, a perfect statue, still clutching the plaid valise as if it gave her some sort of stability. Alone in the darkness that surrounded her, she braced herself to face her future.

*rp note: I mentioned her brother Milo as already attending- I plan to sort him later. Hope that's not confusing.

Must be Cossu