Sorting (Term Twelve)

[andrée joie dubois ♥]

First Name: Andrée Anne
Last Name: Dubois
Age : Fourteen
Appearance:

History:
Andrée was born on March 12, 1995 in Saint-Etienne, France. She is a veela. Her mother is a veela, and her father is a human. Andrée's mother divorced Andrée's father, due to the fact that she could easily kill him, and that she was close to doing so many times.
When Andrée was ten years of age, she started casting spells and such. Her mother began to train her for school.

Personality:
Andrée has a very dry sense of humor, very sarcastic. She is always kidding around with her friends. She is very quiet, around people other than her friends. She is a solid B+ student, which is quite smart, for her. She is quite the song writer. She is sometimes self-absorbed. But, she is quite self-absorbed, when she gets a compliment. She likes to have fun with her magic, pull pranks hevery now and then.
Sample RP:
Andrée smiled a flashy, bright smile at her mother. She kissed her mother on both cheeks, and felt a tear drip down her own cheek. She quickly wiped the tear away, hoping no one saw a trace of it.
"Au Revoir, mère," Andrée told her mother, stepping onto the train, leading to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. She grasped her guitar, the only familiar thing she would see for a while. Her mother's beautiful face twisted into a frown.
"Oh, sweetie, au revoir, to you, too!" she called to her daughter. Andrée smiled, hearing her mother speaking in English. And, the train sped away, and Andrée held her hand out the window, waving.



Please fix your username to match the name given in the application. Until you do that, I can't read the application.

Got it.


The personality could use a bit more, definitely, otherwise its hard to sort. Also....true veelas aren't human, they're creatures. Not only that but if they mate with a human (its possible obviously) they end up most likely killing their mate due to exposure to the veela itself. Her being half veela is POSSIBLE, but the history needs some tweaking.

Better? I had to change the history completely, but I fixed it.

I am going to go ahead and sort you, but this all seems to be the bare minimum. Keep in mind that people on this site likes longer RPs and you might want to go into more detail when RPing.

Must be Cossu!

[nicoleadams]

First Name:
Nicole
Last Name:
Adams
Age:
14
Appearance:
History:
Nicole was born on December 18, 1994 in Los Angeles, California.When Nicole was 4 she started playing piano and singing. She performed at local restaraunts and shows playing and singing and everyone found her amazing. When Nicole was 7 her mom and dad split up and Nicole and her mom moved to Sacramento. At first Nicole was upset about the move but the move was just an opporunity in disguise for Nicole. All of her anger towards her father for leaving the family tapped into her powers and that's when she started showing signs of being a witch.
Personality:
Nicole is very outgoing and bubbly. She loves to be 'The Troublemaker' and loves to play around with her magic. She gets very shy in front of guys. Shes known to start drama and attract attention she doesnt enjoy being drama queen but has learned to get used to it. She thinks shes been close to love many times and would love to experience the full thing therefore almost any guy can get to her easily
Sample RP:
Nicole walked into Beauxbatons, mind racing, she bolted up the stairs and into her dorm. She took a deep breath in and glanced around the room slowly to take it all in. She helped herself to a self guided tour around the school walking ,practically running, into every room she spotted.

She was just turning a corner when a handsome young wizard probably the same age as Nicole glided around running into her and knocking all of her books out of her hands.She immediately looked up and saw the gorgeous guy above her. She instantly ran for she was extremely nervous.

did you finish the personality? it looks like it was cut off ...

yeah it did i'm so sorry. i just fixed it.

space between your name sweetie! must be sournois

[dorian]

First Name : Dorian
Last Name : Argent
Age : Could pass for sixteen or seventeen, but is really as of 2009, 370 years old.
Appearance :

Dorian stands at a height of six feet, two inches, and he has no hope of growing any taller. He is slender, though not starved by any means, with long fingers and bones that stand out against pale flesh. He has bright green eyes and and his saving grace is his long, brilliant red hair.

History :

Though now a vampire, he was first a wizard in the aristocratic house of Argent. He could change into cat like forms most easily, being an animagus. When he became a vampire, he ran away, staying well clear of his family. Nearly fifty years later, he returned to his family's land, and after watching the descendants of his family for some time, turned into a Chartreux cat, and joined them as the family pet. Every once in a while, he would leave until the eldest of the family passed, while still watching over them from afar. In this way, he eluded suspicion of his age. The Chartreux came to be added to the family's emblem, as it seemed they always had one in the house, and when they did, the family was at its most successful. But sixty years ago, when he was the favourite pet of the children Argent, his relationship with the family changed. Rousseau, playing in the Argent manor's garden, fell into an old abandoned well that was covered with a host of honeysuckle. Dorian ran to get help, Rousseau's parents and older brother following him to the old well. They could do barely anything, as the well was deep, and opened onto a maze of underground caves and rivers. Rousseau was lost and, wandering beneath the earth, lost the voices of his family, which echoed off the walls and ceilings. Dorian, knowing how helpless he would be, jumped into the well and retrieved him. However, Rousseau was the only one to notice the change, as he was the only one to actually see him in human form, and from that day on, he protected Dorian's secret. They never really talked, and Dorian didn't pretend any differently from how he had before, but Rousseau knew that he had found someone truly unique, and since then Dorian has had a protected position within the family.

Personality :
Dorian is fiercely protective of his wards, and is a pretty good judge of character. When he was first changed, Dorian was considerably elitist, and most would say he still is. He keeps to his own kind, either in blood or status, and isn't used to Muggle borns or half bloods, as he hasn't really been around them much. He is very quiet and refined, and though he doesn't really mean to keep to himself, he doesn't speak out of turn either and is rather reserved. Very calm in manner, Dorian rarely is one to get frustrated, unless of course you cross the path of someone he cares about, i.e. his great nieces. After a time the build up of being calm and such has to release itself though, so whenever he gets to this point it's basically best to stay away from him. He becomes very antsy and moody and there isn't much that won't set him off. Even so, this is rare, as it usually takes a lot to upset him.

Sorting Sample :

I decided to write from a point in which someone from Dorian's family actually finds out what he is, even if they do not know who at that point.

~

The hot summer sun beat through the trees, slicing through the bright green leaves like a knife. It didn't matter to Dorian. He liked the heat, the way it warmed his fur as he spread out lazily under the August sun. Rene and Soleil, clothed in thin white cotton, ran barefooted through the garden, jumping from shadow to shadow beneath the trees. Content with their game, they paid Rousseau no attention as he dug amongst the cool dirt of the flower beds. Hardly a sound was audible save for the thrushing of slight breezes as they ran their cool fingers through the garden's plants or the two young children's giggles as they caught one an other or fell onto sunlit earth.

Dorian scratched behind an ear, more habit than anything, and stretched against the bed of grass that held him. His silky fur glistened in the sun, and his tail swatted randomly. He was known to his family as a playful, yet cheeky feline, and he often got in trouble for teasing the children. They were all children to him, though. Even Gustave and Isabelle, the childrens' great grand parents. They all neared death, and they all died, as children in his thoughts.

Ten generations since he'd changed, and he was still kicking, still a part of the family. Little did they know that the silvery feline that roamed the manor's halls at night was a great uncle who was so much older than they were. He'd spent nearly all his life, save for sixteen short years, and fifty long ones, hiding under the cover of the cat, under everyone's nose. Every twenty years or so, he'd disappear, watching the Argent family from afar, protecting them when needed, then come back when the eldest members wouldn't suspect anything. It never failed, though. "That cat... he looks just like that other one... Dorian, I think. Same eyes... It was the eyes. Rich, emerald green- the shade of grassy leaves at their greenest- it was too suspicious for them not to think it was anything special.

They added the Chartreaux to the Argent crest- it was Henri, in about 1830. The pride Dorian felt in their appreciation was nigh comparable to the sorrow he felt in his exile. So fearful that they would reject him, when they knew what he was, he never allowed them to know. He didn't have to. When he did have cause to change and protect them, it was always under cover, always when they wouldn't notice his absence, nor see him shift in form. Always a coincidence, his presence.

A butterfly's wings beat loudly not a foot from his ear, and Dorian swatted at it. "Damn bugs..." That was the bad thing about being a cat. You couldn't do much about insects and bugs save for swat or eat. They weren't exactly on his list of favourites, either... The blue winged fly flew on, rising and falling with the curve of the breeze. Dorian watched it for a moment, intent on its fluttering and staggering, till he heard the a whopping thrush- then silence.

Something was wrong. Even the younger ones heard it. Soliel was paused, squatted to the ground in preparation for a great leap, while Rene stood still, his great blue eyes wide in shock. Dorian lept to his feet, his eyes scanning the area to which they paid their attention, his ears twitching as he fought to listen to all around him. A groan, a whine, the soft pad of hands as they fought to push against soft, crumbling earth. Rousseau's heart beat- often so slow and gentle, now so frenzied. He could feel the boy's terror, though he couldn't see him. "It's too dark..." The words were faint, like they came from far away, only beneath him.

Soleil screached at her twin, then ran foward to kneel against the earth. "Get mama!" she cried to Rene. The boy shot toward the house, heedless of the smoldering stone path that would surely burn his bare feet. Soleil, busy screaming at the earth, was hunched over, leaning on her small pale hands. Dorian shot foward to stand beside her, and immediately understood. A gaping hole, pitch black and echoing Soleil's words, was half hidden by the ivy tendrils stretching from the flower bed. It had obviously caved in- roots and plants hung unearthed into the abyss, the blackness swallowing their colour not too far in.

Dorian could see, though. The grey rock of the floor, wet and shiny from what sunlight could touch it, was maybe sixteen, seventeen feet below the earth. A dark, narrow tunnel dropped down toward the cave- it must have been a well at one point. Dorian could hear Rousseau calling out, his voice panicky, even though he fought to remain calm. "Always the sensible one", Dorian thought grimly. He didn't see how the Argents would get him out- it was pitch black, and the afternoon would only last so long. As if on cue, he could hear the approach of steps- one pair bare, one hard and wooden, one split from the pair of sole and thin heel, along with other, softer steps.

Razo and Sidney, pink and sweaty, followed Rene, and were in turn being followed by half of the manor staff. The children's father crouched beside Soleil, who was dragged away by one of the plump, pink faced nannies, leaving room for the men to call into the cavernous well below. They wouldn't hear him. It was clear to Dorian- in his haste and worry, Rousseau had all ready left the point where he'd fallen, and was now searching for a way out. His footsteps were harder to hear, as were his calls. They'd never find him.

Razo was frantic- it was clear to Dorian through the frenzied beating of his heart. His face was calm, though, thoughtful. Always turning, his gears were. Sidney searched his face, tears running over her cheeks as she sobbed quietly. She was always easily swayed by emotions. Dorian's almond eyes rolled. He could get Rousseau out- he knew. But how? If he brought the boy up, his chilled arms clasped around him, strong sinewy arms pulling both boy and child from the abyss, they would suspect. But did it matter? He knew he could find the boy- it would be easy. But what if there was something else down there. Something dangerous?

The nannies were ordered to pull the frantic Rene inside, while Soleil refused to be moved, her calm eyes steady on the hole. The men were sent to collect ropes, lanterns- anything that could help in the search. They'd realized what was beneath the garden. Razo, after all, had always made the land's construction one of his most interested talents. The man, so much like the boy Dorian remembered, sat crouched at the hole, Soleil and Sydney staring over his shoulder, eyes watery with tears. This could be his only chance.

Dorian leapt into the black, over Razo's shoulder. "Dorian! No!" But his 'master's' exclamation did no good. He'd made up his mind. Before he'd hit the ground, he stood at a steady height of six foot. He had to crouch slightly to avoid the ceiling, but finally he fell to all fours. The stone was cold even to him, icy water making it slick. He could hear better now- Rousseau's voice was bouncing off the walls behind him, filtering to the back of the caves where Dorian crouched. It would be almost too easy.

Dorian raced ahead, copying the same stance he used as a feline. It was slightly uncomfortable- he'd never tried it as a vampire. But it was enough, and soon he could see Rousseau's back advancing as he rushed through the tunnel like cave, air swooshing past him. Rousseau shrieked in terror as he felt the icy arms wrap around his waist, pulling him back and tossing him onto something strange. Soft like cushion on the top most layer, but hard as sarsen at every other, Dorian was sure he couldn't be comfortable for the boy. Even so, Rousseau wrapped his arms around the older boy's neck, gripping him as Dorian raced back to the spotlight of sun that danced below the hole.

He stopped and dropped the boy to the floor, and fell to his knees before him, his face falling level with Rousseau's. "No one can know anything", he said, his voice firm. Rousseau's cerulean eyes were large in the dim black. "Dorian?" he queried, his voice weak and unsure. "Arg- the eyes...", Dorian thought to himself. He should have known. Same eyes, different form- it didn't matter. But instead of replying, he cupped the boy's foot in one hand, his bum in the other, and pushing him ahead of him, climbed as far out of the hole as he dared before pushing Rousseau the rest of the way. He could hear the gasps of the parents, their exclamations of the returning house hold, and the pitiful, gleeful sobs of Soleil.

Dorian jumped from the stone floor, his spine shivering as he returned to his silvery feline form. The sun broke upon him suddenly, searing his eyes for a moment before they were freed of the little spots of light that blinded him. It was always like that- light to dark was natural. Dark to light took effort. He blinked a few times, then focused on the family before him. The house hold staff was making their way to the house, chattering excitedly, while Razo, Sidney and Soleil all hugged the dirty, wet boy between them. But Rousseau's eyes were not on them. They were on Dorian. Puzzled, curious, and in awe, his eyes were wide and unmoving until Sidney turned him toward the house. But even then, Rousseau looked back at the cat who sat still on his haunches, his eyes pleading. He could only hope that the eldest brother of the new generation could keep his mouth shut. The boy's silence was his only hope.

it was tough, but considering his moodiness and elitist ideals, i would say sournois : )

[taren]

First Name: Taren Rose

Last Name: Valentine

Age: Appears Eighteen

Appearance:

History: Taren Rose Valentine, born to a witch mother and a muggle father in the Netherlands in 1543 A.D. It was an accidental birth and Dana had never planned to stay with the muggle man but when she became with child she had no choice. Neither her family nor anyone else in the wizarding would accept a b**tard child at the time and Dana didn’t want to be outcasted. So she stayed despite the fact that her infatuation with the muggle man had quickly run out. They lived in the muggle realm because her family regarded the child as a mistake and refused to acknowledge her. Dana wasn’t cruel enough to simply leave her child behind because she wanted to return to her family so she pulled through for them and Taren grew up as a muggle.

Unlike the normal muggles though her father and mother had an extreme dislike for her. Because of course she was the thing that ruined everything and disrupted their lives. So her childhood was filled with abuse. Mental and physical alike to drive the half blooded girl to the very brink of insanity. Self worth rated at zero as well as hope that her parents would somehow be pleased with anything that she did but anger and hate started to build as she matured much faster then she should have. When the letter for magic school came, her parents shipped her off to Durmstrang without a second glance at the acceptance letter. They wanted to be rid of the girl as soon as possible and that was the only nice thing that they ever did for her even though it was an indirect act. She continued to be angry, never making many friends because she couldn’t get over the way that her parents treated her whenever she went home. So she started studying dark magic because the promise of power was simply too good to resist to someone who only wanted to cause people as much pain as they caused her.

She was smart and by the time it was for the witch to graduate she had learned many useful things. She was powerful and extremely cunning but she lacked bravery. No matter how much she learned or how many plans she often thought up to be able to get away with the disappearance of her family she could never put them into action. She was weak because though she had the will she was still too affected by their bitter words to act. So Taren saw no future for herself. Too afflicted with cruel words of ignorant people to ever get far in life she decided that there was no point in continuing. So on her Eighteenth birthday she decided to enter one of the more dangerous places near her home in an attempt to take her own life. because the girl was not one whom ever before considered hurting herself and when it came time to go through with it she couldn’t either. So she devised a plan that she would make someone angry enough that they would kill her with no remorse. She did learn how to use her tongue after all and the girl was clever enough to put it into action.

Her plan worked to a degree. She did manage to piss someone off but he didn’t react in the manner that she expected him. While he did attack her, it wasn’t to get rid of her and he even told her so before the blurred movements and black spots appeared before her vision. It was a confusing night and besides getting to taste the sweetest and thickest red liqueur that has ever touched her tongue she didn’t remember much of it. But when she woke up she was different and she had power to back up her will. Vampyre, the man had told her and thought her to hunt the best way he learned how. He was a good teacher and Taren was a fast learner. She was grateful to him, giving her this gift was better then anything she thought could happen to her so she stuck around for a while. She learned that time was nothing to a vampire as the years flew by and before she knew it her parents had age tremendously. Very old and had other children whom she’s never in her life met. There was no satisfaction in getting revenge to someone who barely remembered their name or the brothers who never attended a school for magic and grew up as muggles.

So she went along her way, never getting her closure but no longer being bitter. Still she grew sadistic, cold and causing harm to whoever was around her at the time. Picking at all of people’s insecurities until they were driven to the edge just as she was. She had no shame or guilt. It was karma. One point in time she had been the prey and now it was time for her to be the predator.


Personality:
Taren is the equivalent of a siren. If they were vampires. Her words are poison but so well hidden that they appear to be the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. It isn’t until the vampire no longer as any use for you that you find yourself plummeting into the deep abyss. She has no shame, she never regrets her actions, she has no inhibitions nor does she act on impulse. She is clever, cunning and extremely dangerous. When the vampire sees something that she wants then she acts on it. It isn’t urge that drives her but rather will. She wants to be strong, wants to be feared because for too long did she feel like the weakest vermin.

Everything that she does has a point even if at first it doesn’t seem like it. She is amused by things that other people would find strange. Mainly personalities. As Taren got older she learned to be able to examine people and how they react to certain things. That is what helped to curve her poison tongue into such a weapon. Very manipulative and she is persistent and very stubborn She never fails to get things her way and just because the vampire doesn’t seem to be acting towards something doesn’t mean that she’s forgotten about it.

She is arrogant but Taren never likes to speak about herself. She prefers to stay in someone else’s mind rather then her being because that would be boring. There aren’t games that she could play with herself so why keep the matter on her. Speaking to her you would see that is arrogant. But she doesn’t show it in a very snooty manner, instead she is all sarcasm and mind games and eventually you would get the point of the way that she holds herself. That is if you manage to get her to speak about herself at all.


Sample RP:
The grub pub has never smelled so bad to Taren then this current moment. It seemed no matter which direction she turned to the only thing that her brain was able to process was the sweat of humans and the stench of the old wooden chairs and tables. Even the table cloths that covered the booth tables smelled bad. It was a nasty taste of cotton and the fabric has never smelled so terrible. Her senses were on haywire and she could not despite her power tune out the annoying stench of the things around her. It was becoming very annoying and frustrating and was only making the foolish situation worse. Her mind couldn't focus and whenever she turned her head to get away from one overbearing stench she was met with another. It was undoubtedly the excess amount of alcohol that was finally working its way through her system.

With the devastating realization Taren leaned forward on her stool and placed her elbows on the counter. She took a deep breath and cringed once her lungs inhaled nothing but musk and wood and alcohol. She simply could not get away from it. She leaned her head forward to rest it against an open palm and tried taking another deep breath. Strangely enough the act took more effort then it usually did. That might have been because there was no need to breathe but Taren felt a dull kind of ache resonating in her chest and making it's way throughout her body. Was that the effect that alcohol had on vampires? It appeared to be because Taren hadn't felt the strange feeling in a long long time. She could almost very literally feel the tingling sensation running through her and it would be only a matter of time before it reached her mind and took away her senses completely.

For the first time in years Taren began to feel a ping of regret. Why oh why did she let the blonde man convince her into drinking with him. Well that wasn't a real question since she already knew the answer. Taren was much too arrogant to back down from any type of challenge and when the male had stepped forward she agreed much too quickly. At the time it had been fun for her to just down the small glasses of hard whiskey with ease as she watched her opponent struggle with it. It would be too easy of a win for her because it took a lot for vampires to get even a little bit affected by the alcohol, and win she did. Within the first twenty, or was thirty, mouthfuls of the poison her challenger had already began slurring his words and spilling the liquid of his drink everywhere. That had of course meant she won, but Taren being Taren couldn't but take it farther.

The man had refused to back down and continued drinking, so she did so also with the intention of seeing how much could the blonde man, Tommy was that his name?, could drink before passing out on the dusty ground. It was about two minutes into an incoherent speech before he finally just went limp and fell with a dull thud. Taren had laughed at that point, and gave a sly wave to his friends that very reluctantly dragged the body away while giving her wide stares. She should have stopped drinking when her entertainment left but the simply human act had felt somewhat fun so she continued. Now she was regretting it. She could hear the words of the couple whom were more then ten feet away from her as if they were screaming in her ear, and she could practically taste the food off of their plate since the smell was strong.

Taren needed to leave, everything was unbearable and her senses were going haywire. She needed somewhere to go where she could only concentrate on one thing to chase everything else away. Unfortunately, her body didn't seem to be cooperating. The dull ache that ran through her did a great job of numbing her limbs and draining her vampire strength away from her. It took too much of an effort to try and move her legs, and now the tingling sensation was making its way to her head. Taren gave a soft sigh and fought against the urge to inhale as she leaned her head forward farther into her palm. Her brown light waves of hair fell around her face and she could see the strands through open fingertips. This had to be the most embarrassing thing that could have ever happened to her.

definitely sournois : )

[taleah]

First Name:

Indigo Faye.

Last Name:

King.

Age:

Sixteen.

Appearance:

Indigo doesn't have a sensual beauty, she was neither alluring nor particularly bold. All she could say that she had was a simple beauty and that was enough for her. Indigo has a natural beauty that most people would kill for, and she knows it, though she would never admit that she was pretty.

Indigo's beauty starts with her thin, athletic frame. Weighing in at only 90 pounds, she swears that she has three stomachs, and claims the only reason she is so skinny is because of the fast metabolism she received from her mother. Playing Quidditch and football [soccer] all the time when she was younger helped in sculpting her lean athletic figure. Perhaps she would look more attractive if she were taller, since she stood at a measly 5'2, which is the most she will ever grow. Indigo has some curves, not too many, but just enough. Her bust wasn't too small, nor too big, and she was fairly happy with her body.

Working your view from head to toe, next comes her hair. Her hair is a light blonde, although she doesn't take well to blode jokes. Indigo has side bangs that cover her right eye. Ah, her eyes. Indigo's eyes are the most captivating about her. Her eyes are honestly the color indigo, which is where she gets her name from. Traveling down her oval face, Indigo has a cute button nose and soft, plump, pink lips which are always curved up in a bright smile, showing off her pearly whites.

History:

No one will ever know what Evelyn King saw in Alastor Casson. She was the sweetest Cossu around, always the first to lend a helping hand, smarter than most but very modest. He was the arrogant little Sournis who always thought he was 'holier than thou', not to mention Beauxbaton's resident playboy. Whatever it was caused them to have four beautiful, bouncing babies. They were married for seventeen years before getting a divorce, which was rare in the wizarding world at the time. First came te twins Arthur, the only boy in the estrogen heavy household. Then came Indigo, the middle of the bunch. Lastly came Rose. The siblings were very close when they were children, only being separated in age by one year, they were all attached at the hip. Constantly making trouble wherever they went, the Casson kids were definitely a handful when together.

Indigo grew up as the baby, she was constantly over protective and sometimes shadowed by her older siblings. They were fairly wealthy, the Cassons were well known purebloods through the wizarding community, and Indigo's mother was always there for her, though the same could not be said for her father. He worked constantly, and she rarely ever saw him. No one really knew where he worked, and when she tried to ask him one day he changed the subject tactfully, distracting her in his cunning way. But the rest of the Cassons were happy. Evelyn made sure that the absence of their father would not affect the children in any way, and kept them busy constantly. She baked with them, taught them how to ride their "bikes." Which was odd, because it was a muggle invention but Evelyn loved muggle things, which was one of the reasons that later on, she moved with the kids to muggle Paris.

It was when Indigo was eight that her parents divorced. Divorce was frowned upon in the Wizarding world, but her parents didn't care and went through with it. Evelyn gave her children the choice to keep the Casson name or change it to her last name. Indigo chose King because she was eight at the time and it made her sound royal. Evelyn moved the kids to Muggle Paris and Alastor had the chance to visit his kids, which he rarely ever did. Christmas and birthday gifts were always sent, as well as little cards and letters to the kids. Not to say Alastor didn't love his children, in fact he did, he was just too busy to be bothered with them. He was a downright workaholic.

So the Casson kids lived a comfortable muggle life until Evelyn recieve an owl from Beauxbatons, which was for Arthur. Her children, by that time, had long been showing signs of magic, even eight year old Indigo who seemed to be talentless compared to her brilliant older siblings. Arthur was a smart kid, entertaining, and ensured that he was always the center of attention. Saffron was brilliant as well, constantly sticking her nose in a book, and a little know it all. Rose was clever and cunning, could talk her way out of any jam she might find herself into. Does everyone now understand why Indigo seemed so shadowed? It was hard to live up to the success her siblings had achieved at a young age.

Personality:

Indigo is not, and never will be, shy. She is a social butterfly. She is usually the loudest and funniest person in the room, she likes to make everyone around her laugh. She just naturally attracts people to her, because of her vibrant personality. Indigo makes friends easily, she's nice to everyone she meets, and the jokster out of all her friends. She's very easygoing and almost always has a smile on her face. She is constantly trying to make everyone laugh because she can't stand to see anyone sad. She'll try to make you laugh when you don't even want to smile, and most of the time she succeeds.

Indigo is an optimistic person, she always looks on the bright side of everything. She's a kind of go with the flow girl, and hardly ever worries. Indigo has a personality that allows you to feel at ease with her, and when you first meet her, you can just tell that she's trustworthy. Indigo is very understanding, she is the one friend you can count on no matter what. She's got loyalty for her friends, and will do anything for her family, even if it means breaking a few laws.

Indigo is passionate in everything that she does. She gives everything she does 110% and she never gives up. She'll stand up for what she believes in, and will listen to other people's opinions, but will try to make them see why she's right, and she is almost always right on certain subjects. Indigo is most likely always in a debate with someone, not that she loves to argue or anything, its just that Indigo is stubborn. She's as stubborn as a mule, which is why she often finds herself in petty arguments with one of her friends.

You could say that Indigo is a modern day hippie. She's a go with the flow, don't like in violence, hates war, animal lover, tree hugging, kind of girl. Carpe Diem is her motto, she likes to relax than fuss and worry over microscopic issues. It may seem odd to someone that a girl with such quick temper doesn't like violence, but its not to her. Indigo hardly ever gets violent, she'd rather use words than fists, and she most definitely hates war. Indigo is against any kind of animal testing, is the girl you would see driving a hybrid. She's an environmentalist.

But Indigo has a mean streak. She isn't a very patient person, and when she's mad, she's horrid. As much as she tries to be nice to everyone, there are some people who just ruffle her feathers too much, DONT BE ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE. Indigo is horrid to her enemies, but it usually depends on her mood. Sometimes she can be cold and cruel, letting out some snide remark. Other times she can be too hotheaded and go into a screaming match. Her mean streak was one of the reasons the sorting hat had trouble deciding whether she should be placed in Ravenclaw or Slytherin.

Indigo is an independant girl, she doesn't let anyone tell her what to do. If she wants something, she goes after it, no questions asked. Indigo is sometimes very quick to anger, and has a sharp tongue to match. She always has something to say, whether its a sarcastic comment or a friendly compliment, the girl never runs out of comebacks. Indigo is smart, and its sometimes very hard to best her, she sometimes play mind games with people, just to see how tough they are and what they're limits are. She's clever and witty, can hold a good conversation and is a generally interesting person.

Sample RP:

Indigo heaved a sigh, kneeling in front of her trunk in her dorm in the common room. The book wasn't here, she'd hunted absolutely everywhere and it still hadn't turned up. She hated to admit this to herself, but there was that chance that she had forgotten it completely, something she should have avoided to do. All too well, Indy could recall the parting moments with her mother before she boarded the carriages for this term.

"You have everything you need?"

"Yes! I've got to get on the train. Good-!"

"Even that French book of spells, dear? You know how you forget most of those."

"Yes, yes. I've got it; I must be going now!"

And with that, she had boarded the carriages. Now she was paying the price for both packing last minute, and not paying close attention to what she'd been packing in the first place. That little book of spells, in easy translation that she had copied from another for herself, was back at home, no doubt in her bedroom. If she wanted to be lazy about the whole ordeal, she could simply owl home and ask that they send it to her, but that would both injure her pride and prove that she was commonly absentminded. She'd already owled them home for a new wand; they'd probably be less eager to help her a second time.

And to the library we go... Indigo thought bitterly, slamming her trunk lid closed and grabbing her wand. She left her robes where they were on her bed, figuring she'd only be a few minutes at most. Besides, she was in the rest of her Beauxbatons uniform, damned skirt included.

Within just a few short minutes, she was slight of breath and was standing outside the library. The librarian always looked at you oddly if you entered the library and weren't breathing 'right' so she tried to regulate her breathing to the best of her abilities. Once she thought it was satisfactory, she opened one of the heavy doors and peered inside.

There weren't many students in the library today, which was a good thing as it could only make her hunt a little easier without fighting with other students for a stupid book. Indy had a faint idea where her book might be located, but that didn't mean it would be there. Maybe one of the library aides got bored and shoved it the first place they could. Then again, on a shelf wouldn't be the first place they could shove it...

Snickering quietly, Indigo set to work on finding the book. After a fruitless half-hour, she was frazzled and a little frustrated; the book wasn't with the other spellbooks like it should have been, and she had then been going through every single shelf. Having found nothing, she kicked at a wall, gaining nothing but a slight pain in her foot. Glancing around her, she then did a double take. The book was right there, on the very shelf in front of her.

Grabbing for it, she was surprised to meet resistance. That probably meant that there was another student grabbing for it as well from the other side.

"You'd bloody well better let go of the book..." she grumbled, still pulling on it and wondering what threat she could follow that up with. There wasn't really all that much the girl could do, but that wasn't quite her point. Besides, it weren't as though the other person on the other side could recognize her voice, right?

Hmm, it must be Rouerie!

[draven]

First Name: Draven
Last Name: Lacreaux
Age: Seventeen
Appearance:

History: Draven was born to Pierce and Madelyn Lacreaux on July 3. His mother was a fallen angel, while his father was a demon. Draven's childhood wasn't too horrible. Neither of his parents ever beat him or ignored him, or anything of the sort. His father wasn't around too much, but his mother cherished him. His parents were never married, for reasons that Draven is still unaware of. He never really missed his father, to be completely honest. Sure, he thought of him from time to time, but he never wished to be in his presence. He hardly ever saw his father, so he didn't remember too much about him.

His parents didn't realize that he was magical until one day when he was being teased by a classmate. Even though he was of demon and angel blood, he still attended muggle school. Anyways, he got so angry that the kid's nose transformed into a snout. Draven couldn't believe what had just happened, so he rushed home and told his mother of the event. She realized that he had magical blood, yet she didn't know how to prove it. That is, until he received his letter from Beauxbatons.

Both he and his mother were thrilled that he was going to go to a magic school. However, he had to put it off because a few months later, his younger sister Delaney fell ill. He felt the need to be there by his sister's side. So, he declined the offer from Beauxbatons. Eventually, his sister got better and he began thinking about attending magic school. It seemed that the staff at Beauxbatons had read his mind, and he received a second letter in the mail a few months later. He packed his bags, and now here he is, attending the school of his wildest dreams.
Personality: Draven is very outgoing, random, friendly, and optimistic. He always speaks his mind, no matter what the people around him think. The only person's opinion of himself that truly matters is his own, and he is fully aware of that. He makes friends quite easily, simply because he's such a friendly and welcoming guy. He's intelligent, but only does enough to get by in his classes. He doesn't want to be Valedictorian or anything of the sort, and he certainly doesn't want a powerful position such as Head Boy or Prefect. He knows that if he gains power, he will surely abuse it.

He's a rebel and a rulebreaker, and is always the guy venturing through the forest or forbidden corridor. He's stubborn to a fault, and will not take 'no' for an answer. If he wants something, he'll do whatever it takes to get it. He's ambitious and he knows what he wants. When he sets his sights on something, nothing can stand in his way. He absolutely adores music, and he's actually quite talented in that department. Not only does he play both acoustic guitar and electric guitar, he also plays the piano and sings. Also, some people would label him as 'obnoxious' and 'annoying', but oh well.
Sample RP: Draven walked through the Forbidden Corridor, his hands placed inside the pockets of his distressed denim jeans. In addition to the jeans, he was wearing a black beanie, a white band tee-shirt, and his favorite pair of black and white converse. A soft sigh slipped through the seventeen-year-old's lips as his gorgeous azure eyes scanned his surroundings furtively. He was quite bored, and looking forward to meeting some new people. He had written his mother a letter almost as soon as he had stepped off the train, and she had replied right away. It seemed that his younger sister Delaney was still doing great, and he certainly hoped that it would stay that way.

It had scared him immensely when she had fallen ill. It hadn't been any ordinary sickness, such as the cold or the flu. No, the eleven-year-old had practically been on her death bed. It seemed that the red-haired adolescent had cancer, brain cancer to be exact. Draven had been reluctant to leave here and attend the school, but she had urged him to go. Besides, he could always take a temporary leave if she fell ill again. However, he desperately hoped that the little girl would be okay and that the cancer would vanish. He knew that it probably wouldn't be like that, though.

Eventually, the blonde grew tired of walking. He leaned his back against the wall and slid down it into a sitting position on the floor. He crossed his legs indian-style and placed his hands in his lap. He rested his head back against the wall and allowed his cerulean eyes to close. He was exhausted. He hadn't gotten very much sleep the night before because of his obnoxious roommate, and he was hoping that it wouldn't be the case that night.

[/color][/size][/blockquote]

I'm torn. He sounds like Sournois, but I also get a Rouerie feel from him. But I really think he'd do better in... Sournois!

[gash]

First Name: Jamie
Last Name: Gashlyth
[ His full name is Jamie Derrick Gashlyth. He's better known as “Gash” ]
Age: seventeen

Appearance:
Jamie has light brown ear-short hair, which he wears in a tousled, carefree way. He's got friendly soft blue eyes and most of the time you'll find him wearing a cheeky grin, or one of his comical expressions.




History:

Gash had had always a simple, if not boring, life. So he was pretty surprised when he received a letter from Beauxbaton, inviting him to the school. Running to his mother, Helen, and shouting all the way while waving the letter above his head, he announced her the news. Helen was at first shocked, and soon after delighted with her son.

Helen was a muggle herself, so it came quiet a shock that her son had magical powers. Maybe his father had been a wizard himself? Helen blushed when Jamie asked the same question aloud. His mother didn't know much about his father. He had been just a holiday romance - and when he had hopped away on a plane back to his place, she realized she had never even asked him his full name.

So Jamie's father was a topic Helen preferred not to talk about. Gash loved and respected his mother immensely, so he avoided mentioning his biological dad. She was his best friend, and it hurt to see her hurt.

He was only allowed to speak about Henry. Gash would roll his eyes at the mention of his name. Henry was Mum's boyfriend. That man had become, well, basically a part of their living room. Like a piece of furniture, that always selfishly took up the whole couch. The only free space he left for Jamie to sit was the sad scrap of carpet, or one of the chintz cushions. (Usually the boy preferred the cushions) Gash never really liked Henry, but he made mum happy - and life with mum happy was easier, so he just stuck with that.

It came as a relief, the invitation to the new wizarding school - a great chance to get away from the annoying Henry, but it also had it's downsides. Jamie didn't want to leave his mother. She was too fragile and helpless. Who would look after her when he was gone? Jamie didn't trust Henry. That man was too sloppy. And when Henry was at work, who would keep mum company and make her laugh?

Actually, it had been all thanks to Henry that he ever had the chance to go to Beauxbaton. Henry had to move because of work, and he budged them up in France in a little Parisian flat. After a few days, an owl, would you believe it, an owl , came fluttering in Jamie's bedroom with an official looking envelope.

So Jamie owed Henry something after all.

It was the toughest decision to make, if to go to school and leave mum, or simply stay where he was and pretend he never received anything.

But in the end, the school won. His mother made him promise he'd go - so, he gave in. [Very quickly, considering the fact there was something in him yearning to be at that school] Though he made mum promise back she'd write to him everyday,and he could go visit her at weekends or something whenever he would be allowed. So, after crushing his mum in a bear hug, Jamie hopped into the school's train and went for his new future in the magical school.

Personality:

Gash is goofy, always making people smile with his comical ways. He loves fooling around, even by just making funny faces. Growing up with his fragile mother made him grow up in the need of constantly making people feel better, so that he'd feel right.

He's a pretty outgoing guy. A bit outspoken at times, but still nice. He's a talker, and can get just about anyone going on in a conversation without actually knowing. It's like, there's no need to wait for the ice to break around Gash, he's like an old lost friend.

He's got terrible shot-term memory, and at times has trouble remembering things he said, or actually did. But he rememberes all the silly little details and things he doesn't need to. Like their neighbours kids had a pet hamster named Icky, around ten years ago. It's not his fault, but his brain seems to decide for itself what to remember and store as vital. Dates, birthdays and phone numbers where just a waste of space.

Though he's slightly insane, the kid's a pleasant guy, an easy person to be around. He could be walking by your side now, and you would find him the next second running away from you, chasing a squirrel. A bit random, one could say.

Sample RP:

Jamie glared up at Henry. That old bat was doing it again.

For about the millionth time, that annoying sag, was putting his stinky socked feet in Jamie's peripheral vision. Close enough to make Gash lose consciousness for about another day and a half if he dared take just a whiff of the poisonous stench they had.

Henry wasn't happy yet with having as usually claimed all the couch. Which was, by the way, a comfortable, lengthy, four-seater. He wasn't yet comfortable at having put his laptop on the chintz cushion Jamie usually used as a seat to watch some telly on. Leaving the kid no other option but ti sit on the floor. Oh, no he wasn't. He was trying to intoxicate Jamie now, too.

Jamie had enough, he scrambled up to his feet, and shot into the kitchen next to Mum.

There she was, bright as sunshine Helen, pottering about in their little kitchenette. Gash smiled at her, he loved it when she was happy. Next to her feet, dancing and purring around her calves, was Ginger.

Gash dashed for Ginger, snatching up the pumpkin-colored fat cat. "What are you doing with Ginger, darling?" asked his mother absentmindedly while chopping some vegs. "Just gonna play a little bit with him." said Gash, angelically.

The boy rushed out of the kitchen, and sat on the stairs, contemplating something. "Now Ginger-" he told the old tabby, holding it up from under his furry arms, "-I want you to do me a favour please." he said, seriously, as though he was having a serious conversation with another human. "When you drop, I want you to attack Henry, all claws and teeth." he said, placing the old tabby on the floor. The cat eyed him questioningly. They both knew Henry hated, hated whenever old Ginger was near him.

Gash's eyes stole to the back of the sofa in the living room, the back of Henry's head visible, sipping some beer. "It's just a new trick I learned." he grinned, pulling his newly bought wand from his pockets.

Queitly, Gash recited a spell he had read out from one of the textbooks he and his mum had bought yesterday for his new school, and made Ginger hover in mid-air. "Off you go!" whispered Gash, launching the cat over to Henry like a ticking bomb. The fat cat fell over Henry's head just like he had materialized from the ceiling.

The next five minutes were full of aggressive hissing, yelps of pain as Henry was clawed and bit, and beer flying everywhere. Jamie couldn't help but double over with laughter.

[/size]

I'm even surprised hehe. But I am getting a Cossu feel from this character. So it must be Cossu.

[Joseph Barrington]

First Name: Rory

Last Name: O'Shea

Age: 16 years old/almost 17 years old

Appearance:
Rory stands at about 6'1", 175 lbs. Shaggy brown hair and blue eyes. Fair skin and a charming smile.

History:
Born to the pureblood family of the O'Shea's, he lived in Glasgow, Scotland most of his life. Sure a scottish young lad he is, wearing kilts a tradition and all, and the accent. He was a bold boy, brave, and sneaky of course. Of a family that is pure to magic, he wasn't taught well enough of the charms, trickery, or hexes. Sure his parents had exposed him to this, but chose not to mess around with magic. Now he can be a bit ambitious and very sly. A habit of flirting of course though he's grown out of those days, maybe. Rory can't deny that his best attribute is his charm. Very easy on the eyes, debonair, and smooth. He learned it too well from his father and it travels well in the blood.

In the years to come, Rory gained three other siblings. The second oldest being his brother James, then his sister Elizabeth, and the youngest is Annie-Marie.

Now as he grew up, he went to a private school for the earlier part of his life. Not yet to be accepted in to a school of witchcraft and wizardry. This worried his parents, but Rory didn't fret once. Though finally he received one letter from a school across the channel to France. Even though Rory was hesitant toward attending Beauxbatons, his parents decided for him. So now he's on his way to a prestigious school of witchcraft and wizarding, hoping to make his mark and perhaps graduate of course.

Personality:
Rory is a nice guy to begin with. Very kind, but has a good sense of humor. He can be blunt and very sarcastic about anything. Sly and cunning as well. An ambitious man and leader, he is also very determined and puts a lot of effort into his work. Besides being the charmer that he is, and a dashing young bloke, he likes casual conversations on any subject. He is not an avid reader, but he prefers hands-on activities. Very much an arrogant fool and can come off as too snooty for his own good. Though secretly he's a hopeless romantic. He believes there is one person out there perfect for any being. You could say he's like a penguin, waiting to choose his one love for the rest of his life. Until then, he's not afraid to date around and have some fun.

Sample RP:

Rory leaves the common rooms for the first time in a week since his recovery over the flu. Cold weather never settled well with Jarod since he was prone to illnesses and hated having to go through them slowly. Not even magical ailments could heal him quickly enough. But since he did have a successful recovery, a bite to eat sounded very tempting since he hasn't had real food besides chicken broth, jello, and water all this time. Gross.

The kitchen was very busy with house elves bustling around and preparing meals for the day. He could smell ham and cheese sandwiches, roast, steak and kidney pie, and all sorts of desserts and rolls. Picking up only a sweet roll and probably a bottle of butterbeer, he leaves the house elves to their work, not bothering to look back to say thank you for their hospitality. They wouldn't have heard it either way since it was so loud with pots and pans clinking together.

Entrance Hall wasn't any better with students finishing up homework and having little games with each other. Rory still hasn't had the time to make good friends and relations around here, but he blamed that on his high-society snootiness with the way his parents have raised him. He finished up the rest of his roll, licking up the traces of sweetness and drowning down his butterbeer. Disposing the bottle, he goes to a nearby washroom to wash his hands of saliva and sweets.

Where would be a good place to hang out these days? All Rory knew is that he wanted to avoid one person, and she is Symantha Grey, a very annoying fellow student. Since he hasn't really seen her in weeks, he was actually feeling much chipper. Perhaps he'll actually find someone he can talk to besides AnnaSophia. She's probably the only person he considers a friend. Approaching the front long doors, he exits through a small opening, and closes it with a hand behind.

The gravel lane infront of him wasn't as vibrant as it should be during the summer. Rory wouldn't know that much though, but he figured roses and other floral assortments are at their best during summer and early fall, but it was late into winter and almost spring. His heavy black sweater did him well to keep him warm though, so no worries of covering himself in layer upon layer. Blue orbs glance around as he strolls down the lane, only recognizing one lonely soul sitting on a bench nearby. Of course he didn't recognize her and he could just ignore her either way.

But she was alone and he had nothing else better to do. Striking up conversations weren't his best attributes for a start. That was obvious with his first interaction with Symantha, but perhaps he could be more laid back and less arrogant than he normally was. "Hello," he finally says while approaching the girl at the bench. She looked no older than he since Rory was seventeen years old. "Don't mind if I join you, do you?" He asks while motioning to the seat next to her.

I'm thinking Sournois!!

[xxcheybearxx]

First Name: Olivia Jennette
Last Name: Ashford
Age: Seventeen
Appearance:
History:
B I R T H
Olivia was born April 31, 1992, to Malorie, and Zachary Ashford, in Burbank, California. Liv's father, Zack, was a businessman, that sold mobile phones in 1992. Olivia's mother was, at first, a housewife, but started her own business - Make It, Bake It Cakes - to support her family. Her parents were both wizards at the time. Her mother was a pure-blood, and was in Slytherin at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her father was muggle born, and he was in Ravenclaw, at Hogwarts.
T W E E N Y E A R S

When Olivia turned eleven, she highly anticipated a letter from Hogwarts, accepting her. She waited two years, and it never came.

When the was twelve years old, she was at daycare, and found that her parents had died. She went to the Adoption center for Witches and Wizards, and was told her parents had been killed by death eaters. At that time, she had no idea what they were, so she looked them up and found out.

The next day, she received a letter, from two parents, wanting to adopt her. She wasn't ready yet, but she met them. Her adoptive parents loved Olivia. She was sweet, cute, and had a great personality. She was adopted by Liz and James Brown.
E A R L Y T E E N S

Liv was very moody near age 14, having mood swings and fits of rage. She was also becoming obsessed with herself. Her adoptive parents took her to the doctor, to find out she had two eating disorders; bulimia, and anorexia.

After that, Olivia was forced to eat, and started to hate her parents. She was beginning to become a rebel. Her parents said it was just puberty, but they were muggles, they wouldn't know.

Liv had started to develop her powers, finally. She had thrown things across the floor, without touching them, and other acts of witchcraft.

N O W
Now, Liv is sixteen years of age, she is healthy, and she is getting ready for Beauxbatons.
Personality:
Liv is very moody at times, particularly in the mornings, when she is cranky. She is very bubbly and outgoing, and has a very laid-back take on life. She doesn't like organization, she likes going with the flow of things, let life take you where it wants you to go. She believes strongly that everyone should have a religion, whatever it may be. She thinks everyone needs someone to look up to. She is more intelligent than you may think, from looking at her.

Sample RP: bottom
Liv sat in her room, playing around with her rubix cube. She would tell herself some way to get it in her head, and then she would forget it. Liv bit her bottom
lip hard in concentration. She finally got all the colors matching. She got bored of things quickly. She likes to do new things everyday.

Liv heard a soft rap on her door, and saw her adoptive mother, Liz, standing in the doorway, a smile on her face.
"Sweetie, you got an owl..." she said excitedly. It sounded as if she was as excited as Liv was. Liv looked down at her mom's hand. Fingers crossed. She let out a quiet giggle.

She was sitting cross-legged, so Liv got up and jumped up and down, making her leg wake up. "Kay, Liz. LOVE YOU!" Liv shot a grin at her (practically) mother, and skipped happily down the stairs. She smiled a huge smile, at what she thought the letter was. She squealed with delight, and ripped it open. YES! she thought.

Must be Cossu

[maelys favre]

First Name:

Aurèlie-Abelle

Middle Name:

Marie Emile (not Emily//Emilie, Ey-mileh)

Last Name:

Bath

Age:

Seventeen//Dix-sept

Appearance:

Elle est coquette. Tu n'es pas.

History:

Early Years

Aurèlie-Abelle is a Pure-Blood through and through, no other blood tainting hers. She was brought up by her parents, Monsieur Abélard Bath and Madame Édith Bath née Rocheleau, to only associate with the Pure-bloods. Although Aurèlie-Abelle didn't understand this "life lesson" she went along with it for she was young and in need of guidance, guidance her parents were happy to give.The Bath family was a rich French family, so Aurèlie-Abelle was somewhat spoiled as a child. She got what ever her heart desired, as long as it was a wizard item. Most muggle things were not allowed in the house so Aurèlie-Abelle didn't grow up wishing to be a princess, she grew up wishing to be a great witch of some sorts.

At the young age of five she showed her first sign of magic, levitating her plate one evening. Her parents were so pleased, most children didn't show signs until later on. 'Twas about the same time that her younger sister, Jessamond Clarisse Lisette Bath, a squib. Aurèlie-Abelle's parents contempted putting Jessamond up for adoption when they found out the girl would not have magical abilities, but by the time the couple had made up their mind, Aurèlie-Abelle had grown attached to the blonde babe that was her sister.

Aurèlie-Abelle was the perfect older sister, kind, considerate and always wiling to keep her sister out of trouble when need be. Bt Aurèlie-Abelle was not prepared for the untimed death of Jessamond. Aurèlie-Abelle was ten at the time and Jessamond was five, her birthday just passing. The two girls were playing the family's home front yard with their Barbies, a muggle toy the family had bought because Jessamond was not capable of making the magical Adèle move. Aurèlie-Abelle and Jessamond's dolls were in a fight, fighting over who-knows-what when Aurèlie's doll made a nasty attack to Jessamond's and the doll went flying into the road. Jessamond went running after in, laughing, as was Aurèlie-Abelle. Neither of the girls noticed the car coming. Aurèlie-Abelle didn't know that that was going to be her younger sister's last laugh.

Eventually, Aurèlie-Abelle stopped crying over her sister's death and she tried to forget her sister. For awhile she didn't laugh for that had been the last thing Jessamond had done, laugh. But, again, after time Aurèlie-Abelle became normal again.

Age Eleven-Seventeen

Just as any age eleven witch and wizard living in France, Aurèlie-Abelle got her letter to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and she was to go on September First. But before that date could come Aurèlie-Abelle went to Muggle Paris and instantly she fell in love. Maybe it was the smell or maybe it was the change of scenery, but what ever it was, she was in love with it all.

Her parents were taken aback at the sudden change in their almost perfect daughter, she was suppost to be the perfect Pure-blood witch that every witch would envy but after one quick trip to Paris everything changed, so instead of sending the girl to Beauxbatons they kept her home, trying to fix whatever made her a Blood-Traitor.

In these years she developped interests such as Muggle Sports, Reading and Drawing to keep herself sane during all the lessons her parents crammed into her brain. She grewto despise her parents who eventually had enough with her escapades and locked her in her room, all windows and doors sealed shut. Aurèlie-Abelle went almost crazy locked in her room with nothing, her parents had been sure to clear the room of anything Aurèlie-Abelle found joy in. But on her seventeenth birthday the brunette girl escaped.

She had begged her parents to release her, she would be a good girl and quite with the Blood-Traitor antics. Finally, her parents complied and the girl was allowed out of her room. Aurèlie-Abelle acted like the model daughter for awhile, gaining her parent's trust before making her move. She waited for the time that her parents trusted her enough to allow her to stay home alone while they went to a party with their friends. As soon as her parents were gone Aurèlie-Abelle ran to her room, grabbing her suitcases on the way, and began shoving her designer clothing into the bags. And on that note the girl took off into the night.

Now

Aurèlie had no idea where to go. She was alone in the big wide world with nothing but three large suitcases of various things. So, the brunette had blunked herself on a street corner no more than eight blocks away from her house, hoping someone would find her and take her in. Muggle or not, Aurèlie-Abelle would accept anything. 'Twas the Knight Busthat nicked her up and brought her to none other than Beaxbatons, where she has been staying, and learning for the past week.

Personality:

Acharné//Stubborn

Aurèlie-Abelle doesn't take well to being told no, she's wrong so even though she probably wrong she will stick her her idea until the very last moment. Although if you do set out to change the girl's mind I bid you good-bye because you'll never return. Your head will be bitten off and eaten for breakfast.

Violent//Violent

Aurèlie-Abelle vents by hitting things and throwing heavy objects. It's just the way she knows how to get a response because when she was younger she was a spoiled brat because she comes from a rich family. Being violent is a way she shows affection. It may sound weird, but Aurèlie-Abelle is a tough cookie, not one for hugs and kisses, so she shows her affection by poking, smacking, kicking and anything that involves physical contact.

Flirteuse//Flirt

Aurèlie-Abelle is a very large flirt. She flirts with almost anyone she talks to her. She just cannot control herself. But because this she ends up getting called names such has h*e, whxre and slxt. Aurèlie-Abelle just ignores the comments because she knows who she is.

Confidante//Confident

Aurèlie-Abelle is very confident and she doesn't give other people's opinions a second though she does like being payed compliments. She is sure of herself and is confident and optimistic that usually had positive results.

Sample RP:

Aurèlie-Abelle, aged fifteen sat outside of her family home. She donned a pair of black rainbow spotted ballet flats, ripped jean shorts, and a black tee-shirt that read 'Coquette: moi' which mean 'Vain: me'. In her ears 'Pop the Glock' by Uffie. Her brunette hair was curled and pulled into two low hanging pony-tails. She twirled a strand of hair around her finger in boredom.

"Aurèlie-Abelle!" Bee's mother's voice called from inside.

"Piss off, Maman! C'est Bee!" Bee called back. Why her parents insisted on calling her by her full name was unkown to her. She prefered to go by Bee, or Golden bee which is was what her name was in Englsih. Abelle was bee and Aurèlie was Golden.

Must be Sournois

[mcallister]

First Name: september
last name: mcallister
age: seventeen
appearance: link

history:

`it's hardly a beginning

[/i]
September Mcallister was born to Vicktoria and Rafael Mcallister. The two met when they were in their mid twenties. As they explained it to Sept it was love at first site, but sometimes it was hard to tell that the two of them were in love. They had their only child not long after getting married. The two put so much love and affection into their child that he grew up not wanting any. When he was younger of course it was nice to get a lot of it, but so much of it drove him to wanting space from his parents. The older he got the more space he wanted. At seventeen he was sitting in his room all day listening to music, and doing nothing else. At dinner time he got his food, and took it straight back up to his room. No he didn't hate his parents he just needed room, and lots of it.

The family wasn't at all of the poor kind. They had a very nice house, and nice cars, but September wouldn't exactly call them rich either. At the end of the day they were just kind of there. They had enough money to support themselves, and enough money left over to put back for toys or splurge on clothes. Both seemed to be the main things the money went for. He himself had a few toys, but nothing that he asked for. His parents had recently been trying to coax him out of his room with a basket full of them, but it didn't do any good. Now he was stuck in his room with his parents down stairs with a basket full of electornic toys. What could go wrong after that.

Before long his mother was trying to get him to come down again. This time he decided to give her a chance. Telling him that she had some news to talk to him about he wanted to hear about it. Handing him a very fancy envelope the contents kind of surprised him. A school of magic. As he was reading his letter his mother, and father was telling him about them also going to a school of magic. News of which he had never heard before now. He wasn't sure what to think when it was all said and done, but he was quick to take the offer of going to the school That was just what he needed to get the time he needed away from his parents.

personality:

`as simple as 1, 2, 3, 4

[/i]
Even though he grew up with tons of love and affection he wasn't a completely anti-social person. September likes to talk to people because he knows that he has a tendency to be a little stand-offish. Which does not help him in the whole making friends area. He's not the most social of people, but he will talk to you if you talk to him. Any interesting conversation can get him talking quite a bit. He's a nice person just a little hard to understand. September does not reflect the appreance that is shown on the outside. People might think of him to be crazy, and off the wall, but he was hardly either of those things.

Sometimes he can be known to be a little on the random side, but that isn't always the case. Only on occasion can he be seen being extremly random, and talkative. He does like being alone though, and sometimes might pick that over being social, but it wasn't always a definite thing. Over all though September knows what he wants, and that's to make friends. What he's going to get from going to this school he's not entirely sure of that, but everything takes a little time.


sample rp

Walking through the very empty halls of the school September kept his eyes on his feet. Watching them move him little by little. His mind was completely blank at the moment, but he was sure that it wouldn't stay that way for long. He had no idea where it was he was going or even what was in the direction that he was going, but he was sure that he would find something to do whether it was this way or the other way. It didn't really matter to him. The white converse that he had on his feet were quite comfortable for taking a walk, and they were also easier to follow.

It wasn't long before September actually realized how much he needed to watch where he was going. He ran straight into the middle of a wodden door. 'Ouch' Rubbing his head now September looked up and smiled. He was standing rigth in front of the doors to the library. He liked to read, and he was wondering what it was like inside this place. With as big as it was there was sure to be a ton of books, and things in there. Opening the door he stepped inside slowly.

Looking around he realized just how massive this lubrary actually was. It was much bigger than any city library that he had ever been too. It was amazing, and quite exravagant really. Letting out the breath that he had obviously been holding in he slowly started to walk forward, and looked around at the book clad walls. There were books everywhere. On every wall, and probably thousands of them. Possibly even millions. September smiled as he walked around running his hands along the spines of the books. It was almost like walking out of a dream. Then again he didn't exactly dream about books so maybe not.

Stopping his finger on one book he pulled it from the shelf, and turned it over to the back. It was a muggle book called Romeo and Juliet. He had heard of it since he did live as a muggle, but never actually had a chance to read any of it. Reading the small descirption of the book on the back he opened it up to the first few pages of the obvious play, and began to read a little of it. They words were kind of hard to understand, but since it was written in Elizabethen ( he found out from the excerpt on the back). Still though he wasn't entirely sure what this 'Elizabethan' was, but still he was interested in the book. September stood there flipping through the pages reading bits off of each of them.[/size][/blockquote]

Must be Rouerie.

[hunterwilde]

First Name: Hunter
Last Name: Wilde
Age: 16
Appearance:

Hunter is not known for his looks by any means. He looks rather childish, and his large blue eyes are even a target for teasing. He stands rather average, at 5’10” feet, but he appears to be shorter than he really is to many due to his baby features. Hunter has an average build, and is neither weak nor strong. He is quite sturdy, however, and rarely falls ills.
History:
Summer birthdays are the least glamorous of all the other times of the year to be introduced into the world. Children are out of school and on vacation, and parents rest from the duties of the normal year and tend to stray away from the social interaction that occurs on a usual basis during fall, spring, and winter. It was during one of these summer months that Hunter’s birthday occurred on July 3rd, hushed and quiet, just like the rest of his life. Hunter was the middle child of the muggle family, second to Asher by two years and a bit older than his younger bother, Clark. It was after Clark’s birth that Hunter’s world began to stem into the typical middle child syndrome of being a bit attention starved. His younger brother was considered to be the cute baby of the family (even though Hunter always looked younger) and the older was the responsibility holder, the protector of the family name. Hunter’s parents were decent enough to him, the average pair of accountants in a bank in France. They provided him with what was expected, toys and food and a place to sleep and whatever attention was left over after they were done with his brothers. He went to a normal primary school, and made high marks, but never really seemed to be social enough to make many friends. He had a few that he enjoyed the company of, but throughout all of his life Hunter enjoyed the company of himself and his fantasies over the company of others.

At the age of six, Hunter started showing his first signs of magical ability when he was sitting outside in his backyard daydreaming, as was quite a usual past time for him. He had been staring at a bird on a fence post, wondering what it would be like if the bird had fantastical abilities, perhaps extreme size or the ability to change color, when the bird began to turn a profound shade of purple. Hunter was left alone and puzzled when the bird finally flew away after turning pink, orange, and red, and received no explanation for this strange occurrence until he was eleven years old.

Hunter’s Beauxbatons invitation arrived with much shock and disbelief by all members of the Wilde family. Hunter was thrilled that his fantastical stories and tales were going to come to life right before his eyes- he was a wizard! A guru of magic, a tamer of the wand! His parents, however, were less than thrilled, and believed the instance to be some sort of joke. A disappointed Hunter was told that his invitation had been some sort of cruel joke- as magic certainly wasn’t real- and was left to sulk in his room for the rest of the summer. Beauxbatons officials arrived at Hunter’s house at the start of term after he hadn’t showed up, and immediately he was swept off to the school where all his fanatical dreams were real.

Hunter fit into Beauxbatons just as well as he had fit into his life at home- quite poorly. It wasn’t as if Hunter was some sort of social leper, he just rarely got noticed, keeping to the shadows and himself. Hunter’s younger brother, Clark, was also accepted into Beauxbatons. He was considerably more popular than Hunter and found him to be a bit of a burden most of the time.

Hunter was rarely involved in any school activities, and was never named to any positions of authority. Despite his knack for getting detentions for not paying attention, Hunter was not a rule breaker by nature.

Personality:
Fanatical; Hunter is a dreamer above all things, and his imagination runs wild constantly. His day dreaming tendencies have earned him dozens of detentions, and also take away from his real life. He would rather be lost in his thoughts about a utopian world than actually socially interact with people, and therefore rarely approaches anyone. He loves philosophy and ‘what if’ questions.
Imaginative; A bit of an obvious trait, but none the less an important one. Hunter questions many concrete concepts the world has to offer, including the thin line between good and evil and whether these polar opposites even exists. Hunter is a writer by nature and has composed several long short stories which he tends to lose inside of his book bags, and then, to his delight, find months later.
Apathetic; Hunter rarely feels any extremely strong emotions, mostly due to the fact that he is often submerged in his own thoughts and ponderings. He rarely crushes on anyone, and hasn’t even thought into his sexuality enough to determine it. Through his thoughts and ponderings, he feels a bit more than he would like to admit to himself, however.
Intelligent; Hunter makes top marks in Beauxbatons, especially on practical work. For someone who spends so much time being unfocused and careless, he works meticulously on school work and has the grades to show for it.
Bitter; Hunter did not leave the real world and enter into his own on any accident. He has turned his overwhelming feelings of bitterness towards a world that hasn’t immediately accepted him and welcomed him in, but rather mostly ignored him, into indifference and apathy. However, the bitterness still lurks inside him, as much as he pushes it out.
Hypocritical; Most of the apathy and dreamer qualities that Hunter has he has forced upon himself as a defense mechanism against a world that is not perfect. He deals with his everyday struggles by forcing them aside in search of something not real. Hunter, however, hates fakeness in real life. He scoffs at the certain trends that he sees around school constantly, such as fashion and hair styles. He barks at popularity, taking the typical response of anyone who is not apart of the in crowd- despising it. It is also quite ironic that Hunter is so focused on fantasy when in fact the life that he is living is composed of real magic... he refuses to be satisfied by what surrounds him.
Bookworm; When not doing class work, or straying outside to stare at the grounds, Hunter can be found in the library reading anything he can get his hands on. He also is quite fond of writing down his many ideas on pieces of parchment. He keeps them all over the place, and never can seem to find them.
Loyal; To the very few friends that Hunter has, he is fiercely loyal and devoted. Some of the only times that you can find him being down to earth are with his friends.
Kind; Hunter has a large heart despite all of his imperfections, and he cannot hide it from the world as much as he wants to.
Shy; Hunter doesn’t speak much to people that he doesn’t know. When he does speak, he doesn’t think first. His shyness is mostly due to his disengagement from the world.

Sample RP:

Great streams of smoke vented somewhere in the distance, clouding the air with fiery fumes and the faint hint of sulfur. A loud roar bellowed across the earth, shaking the evergreen trees below as hell rang out from the sky, pushing against the air with its mighty scaled wings… A reptile of massive and brutish proportions was scaling the sky, draining the fury of a night’s hunt through its tremendous nostrils, fire erupting from every crevice on its angry face. Wings extended through the air, chopping at the surface ungracefully, although the dragon had been flying its entire life. Dragons were not creatures of skilled flying or expert speed; they were creatures of anger and tension. A tip of the wings and a few awkward flaps later, the beast dipped towards the forest waiting below it, readying itself to stab and to bite at whatever prey was unfortunate enough to fall into its path…

And suddenly, the vast expansion of sky from which the dragon descended began to fade away, the blueness escape the field of vision. Details faded away quickly, like a hand cupping water, and soon the dragon itself was merely a figment that existed moments before…

Hunter snapped his face up, placing his palms against the surface of the fantasy book he had been reading quickly as his eyes scanned the horizon. He had almost fallen into his favorite kind of stupor again… halfway between a day dream and an actually dream. He had snapped himself out of falling asleep into his fantasy world at the last moment, and for good reason, too. The librarian, an old mousy women with a distaste for anything that wasn’t school-related, had kicked him out of the library several times for falling asleep, and Hunter wasn’t about to test his luck again. After stretching softly to awaken himself, Hunter refocused his eyes on the book below, staring once again at the very picture that had sparked his idea… A brilliantly crimson dragon was puffing over and over again towards the center of the picture, filling up the entirely frame with sulfur and ash before becoming slightly clearer again… He’d like to have a dragon, Hunter decided. Even if he couldn’t tame it, he at least could say he’d owned a dragon. And that was something even his beloved brothers couldn’t say they’d done.


Hunter seems like he would fit well in Rouerie. ^^

[hunterwilde]

I meant to click 'modify' and I suppose I clicked 'quote'. If this post could be deleted or ignored, I would appreciate it.

[peanutslover]

First Name: Scarlet

Middle Name: Kimba

Last Name: Courtier

Age: Eighteen

Appearance: Poof!

History: Scarlet was born on February 14th 1967. She was named Scarlet after her witch mother who died giving birth to her. Scarlet lived with her father Drake until she was two years old, when Drake dropped Scarlet off at school and never came back for her. Scarlet then spent the next few years in group homes hoping to find the family she never had. At 16 Scarlet found herself put out by the group home,living on the streets and fighting for survival. There Scarlet, now nicknamed Scar, found out from the streets the truth about life, love, and everything in between. Upon her 18th birthday, Scar finally abandonded all romantic hopes and dreams she once held and made it her soul mission to extract revenge upon those who had done her wrong through her accomplishments.

A little while down the way, she befriended a fast-talking street vendor. The two were close despite the age difference, and for once in her life, Scar thought she had a friend, until she woke up one day and he was gone. What was worse, her heart had stopped and she saw the world through blazing golden eyes. She was a vampire.

Personality: Scarlet is a quiet,introveted soul. She loves to observe people, gets close to no one and is just as careful not to let anyone get close to her. She keeps a glass window up which makes sure she is seen but not touched, but sometimes she wishes to let go and have someone see her, and try to break through her window. She enjoys reading, is fluent is french and italian, and is very witty. Scarlet, who prefers to be called Scar, is anti-social and tends to come acros as a brat because of her cutting wit.

Sample RP: She stretched as the first rays of sunlight broke through the grimy window in the warehouse. With that she knew it was the start of another day in hell. Her mind raced with thoughts of what she had to do--where she would find food, could she could get work, what else she would have to sell--but her train of thought was disrupted as she felt Skippy stir beside her. She felt him stretch and his yawn echoed in the warehouse, like rolling thunder. Scar stared at Skippy, his eyes as blue as the mountain stream, holding a secret hope for better future. Scar loved Skippy. He was her only friend in this hell she was trapped in. As she looked at Skippy she remembered what is was like before she was turned, and silently cursed the herself for getting into the plight she was in now--living without living.

Must be Rouerie

[hanariyo]

I am...

First Name: Helene-Marie Cynthia
Last Name: Fierté
Age: 15

Appearance:

Helene-Marie is a short (5 ft 3) Chinese/French girl with thick waist-length dark brown hair and brown eyes. She possesses a classical beauty that grows on a person. She always has some sort of hair ornament in her hair to keep her hair out of her face. She likes muggle clothing, and often wears low cut tops when she is not in class. Helene-Marie tends to look unwelcoming and stern but in reality, she is just neutral. She doesn't smile often, but when she does, her friends have told her that she looks like a completely different person. Helene-Marie doesn't stress about her appearance, as others would, and has no patience for make up and expensive clothing. However, she does make sure to look neat and proper, and prides herself for looking "professional".

History:

Her family is in Canada but she had been sent to study at Beauxbatons by her father, who had studied there as well. Helene-Marie took the chance to come to France as an opportunity to work on her French. She had initially applied to a school in China upon her mother's insistence, but the strict Chinese policies refused her entrance. She has been attending Beauxbatons since she was eleven.

Her mother is a pureblood Chinese witch named Anna Zhu and her father a pureblood half-Chinese, half-French wizard named Michael Jin Fierté. Her parents had met via a penpal correspondence set up at their respective schools. When they graduated, they continued their relationship, and were married soon after and immigrated to Canada. Helene-Marie was born soon after. She has one little brother that is two years younger than her named Tristan. Tristan is studying in Canada so her parents could keep a better eye on the mischievous boy. Although Helene-Marie misses her family dearly, she keeps up correspondence with them and visit them every summer.

Personality:

Helene-Marie is a quiet and studious young woman with a thirst for knowledge. She's hardworking and intelligent. She strives for excellence and amazes her peers and professors with her remarkable work. She is the usual stick in the mud amongst her friends, she's the one who brings reason and shoots down her friends' more "creative" --meaning, dangerous--ideas. She's pragmatic, compassionate, mature and reasonable.

She is open-minded despite her parent's pureblood superiority preaching. She is socially awkward and does not know how to make friends well. But when she does make a friend, she is steadfast and loyal. She is a strong believer that she should treat others in the way she wished to be treated herself. She has a bit of an ego because of her talent and intelligence. Her mother is a great influence in her life, and because of her, she strives for perfection, unfortunately, she also suffers from an inferiority complex and a pessimistic view on life. She never sees her efforts as enough and it takes a while for her to realize that she's good.

She is also vengeful , manipulative, sarcastic and quickwitted. She can cut a person to pieces if they offend her enough, fortunately for the others, she isn't one to be easily moved to anger. She usually uses her sarcasm to make self-deprecatory jokes to show others that she isn't all high and mighty and can laugh at herself once in a while. Despite her best efforts, she only has a small group of friends. Most students only associate with her when she lets them.


Sample RP:

It was amazing how one person could cause her outlook on life to change so drastically. Helene-Marie tried desperately to fight the growing frown of displeasure from her face. Beside her, her brother, Tristan, was too busy polishing his broom to notice her irritation. She just didn't understand why everything just had to go wrong!

She had returned to Canada for the summer all excited to see her family once more before returning to Beauxbatons in the fall. She had been dreaming and planning, scheduling fun events and activities for her and her family to do when she was given the news. Their relatives were coming over to Canada as well...including her insufferable cousin, Antoinne-Marie Fierté. Her plans went down the drain. No doubt, her family will be too busy going to wherever their guests wanted to go.

She couldn't even remember what had put them against one another, but she couldn't stand her pretty blonde cousin. The only similarities that they shared were their family, their X-chromosome, and the "Marie" in their names. Antoinne-Marie was beautiful, tall, thin, athletic, and a social butterfly. Usually, she could put up with those kinds of girls--and she had at Beauxbatons, but Antoinne was not someone who cared to be "tolerated". It also hurt that her own mother would fawn over Antoinne and casting her own daughter aside, while shooting disparaging remarks on how "dumpy", "lonely", and "lazy" Helene was.

So here she was on her way to the beach--wizarding, of course--so Uncle Pierre, Auntie Elaine and Antoinne could take come measly pictures. "Je déteste ma vie." Helene grumbled waspishly. She eyed Antoinne with distaste as she lounged around in the skimpiest bikini there ever was on the planet, surrounding by teenaged boys.

"If you're so jealous, lose some weight, tubby." Her brother, ever the sensitive and supportive one, jeered. Tristan stood up, broom in hand, and walked off to the designated Quidditch pitch.

Saying it once more, Helene sighed, "I hate my life."

I'm torn here... but I think, it must be Rouerie!