Post by ru on Jul 16, 2010 23:53:54 GMT
YOU SAY YOU WANT A REVOLUTION.
[/color]STEPHEN OCTAVIUS LESTRANGE[/color]
YOU KNOW WE ALL WANT TO CHANGE THE WORLD.[/color] [/font]
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YOU SAY YOU'VE GOT A REAL SOLUTION.
[/color][/font][/center][/color]FULL NAME:
NICKNAMES:
AGE:
BIRTHDATE:
GENDER:
BLOOD TYPE:
AFFILATION:
SEXUALITY:
OCCUPATION:
HOUSE:
YOU SAY WANT TO CHANGE THE CONSTITUTION.
[/color][/font][/center]LIKES:
DISLIKES:
STRENGTHS:
WEAKNESSES:
AMORTENTIA:
BOGGART:
PATRONUS:
MIRROR OF THE ERISED:
[/color][/size]
WE ALL WANT TO CHANGE YOUR HEAD.
[/color][/font][/center]FINANCIAL STATUS:
NATIONALITY:
BIRTHPLACE:
CURRENT RESIDENCE:
PARENTS:
SIBLINGS:
IMPORTANT RELATIVES:
OTHER HALF:
OVERALL HISTORY:
DON'T YOU KNOW IT'S GOING TO BE ALRIGHT.
[/color][/font][/CENTER]OOC NAME: Rufus.
AGE: Sixteen.
EXPERIENCE: Four years,
OTHER CHARACTERS: none.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
It was a lazy afternoon for the young Annabella Auerbach. She was feeling ever so tiresome. Work was always getting the young woman tiresome for some reason. She lay there, on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her bed just did not feel the same anymore due to the last encounter she had with the Hauptmann officer. It wasn’t very pleasant at all. Rape was the only word going through her mind when he had left her apartment that night. Five seconds later, she had collapsed upon her bed, growing rather unconscious. Rolf Jager had left the young woman struck with horrors and grotesque images that were permanently bolted into her vulnerable mind. Attempting to take those thoughts out of her mind, she slowly got up and moved toward her oak desk.
She began to write a letter. The letter was to go to the police. She was going to inform them of this man, and what he had done to her. They would take it, or they wouldn’t. God only knew. What he had done was appalling, no doubt in thinking such words, and she hoped that the police would do something about it. But were they going to believe her? They were bound to trust Rolf, a Hauptmann then trust Annabella, a deprived woman. She had no defense. If she wore the Jewish armband, she was bound to be dead by then. However, she chose to keep herself undercover, but this didn’t seem to work much over the years. But, she was always successful for she always ran away.
She tapped the tip of the fountain pen upon the piece of paper. She simply did not know what to write. A few minutes later, Annabella gave up. She slowly pushed the paper away, sighing heavily to herself. She glanced outside the window. It appeared to be bright and sunny behind the lace veil she put up as a curtain. It was the only curtain she could find within a short amount of time. Her life wasn’t that bad. At least she had a home. Not many did those days due to the conditions in Berlin. Jews were being sent to death camps, so most of the apartments and buildings were pretty much empty. Nobody did choose to occupy a house where a Jew once lived. Paranoia was in bloom. People were so irritatingly brainless sometimes.
She noticed how the old lady whom owned the building kept looking at her. It was a suspicious look. Anna hoped the woman did not think of Anna as a Jew. She never did like the owner of the building but she was rather grateful that the lady let Anna rent an apartment. She was at a desperate time when she had come to the building looking for a house. The woman was ever so kind to lend Anna a hand. Back then, Anna wasn’t accused of anything and she had her papers to prove that she was purely above suspicion. But now, she wasn’t. Anna did not know what she had done to get the ridiculous woman suspicious. She hoped the woman had not contacted any authorities about it. Anyways, all the woman did was chitchat and haunt the tenants. She was a bloody nuisance in Anna’s opinion.
Annabella slowly stood from her chair. She began moving toward her living room, closing the door behind her. Fear overcame her. Her memories haunted her. They were not only the memories of the night of the rape, but also her past memories; the memories of her family. Tears built up in her eyes as the door had finally closed shut. She collapsed upon her knees. They hit the cold ground beneath her. Her eyes swelled up. She had been depressed for over a week. The tears began pouring down her eyes like a cascade. Her hand still held the door handle. The door handle felt so rusty and bitter. Her whole body was trembling with fright. She sobbed and sobbed her heart out. She then realized. That was why the old woman was getting rather suspicious. It was Annabella’s endless sobbing.
Anna slowly let go of the handle. Her wrist was still shaking. She slowly got up and gripped a nearby table for support. She pulled out a handkerchief and began to slowly dab at her swollen eyes. Those nasty memories left her wrecked. She moved over to the liquor cabinet. For some reason, Annabella had begun drinking more than usual. Again, it was probably due to her depression. She pulled out a large bottle of whiskey and poured herself a glass. She brought the cup to her pink lips and slowly sipped on it. She moved over to her record player. She put in an old record. The supple, sweet music bounced off the walls of her apartment. She moved over to her couch and sat herself down. She placed the glass on a side-table nearest to her. She felt a bit more relaxed then.
She suddenly heard a knock at the door. Her heartbeat quickened. Could it be? No, it couldn’t be him. She grew slightly cautious. She slowly got up and moved to her record player, turning off the music. The room went silent. She then sauntered over to her door. With all her confidence still left inside of her, she glanced through the peek-hole. Ah, she breathed out a sigh of relief. It was only Agatha, the old lady. Agatha must have heard Annabella’s sobs. Everyone heard her sobs. Heck, she had even gotten some complaints from her next door neighbors. But could Anna really help it? With assurance, she sluggishly opened her door.
”Ah, Agatha. Kann ich irgendetwas für Sie tun können-“ she stopped, for something had stung her. At the corner of her coffee eyes, she caught the glimpse of the figure of a man. She turned toward him. Pausing in her movements, she studied the man’s face. That was when it had hit her. It was him. The man whom knew she lived. Oh, great, just what she had needed. ”Nein.” she muttered underneath her breath. She turned around and began to run into her apartment. She started searching for something, anything really, to get the man off her back. She opened drawers and closets. She had to find that dagger. She always kept a dagger around in case of emergency. Ah, she had finally found it! She reached for the dagger until something caught her movements. [Translations: Ah, Agatha. Is there anything I can do for you?]
She began to write a letter. The letter was to go to the police. She was going to inform them of this man, and what he had done to her. They would take it, or they wouldn’t. God only knew. What he had done was appalling, no doubt in thinking such words, and she hoped that the police would do something about it. But were they going to believe her? They were bound to trust Rolf, a Hauptmann then trust Annabella, a deprived woman. She had no defense. If she wore the Jewish armband, she was bound to be dead by then. However, she chose to keep herself undercover, but this didn’t seem to work much over the years. But, she was always successful for she always ran away.
She tapped the tip of the fountain pen upon the piece of paper. She simply did not know what to write. A few minutes later, Annabella gave up. She slowly pushed the paper away, sighing heavily to herself. She glanced outside the window. It appeared to be bright and sunny behind the lace veil she put up as a curtain. It was the only curtain she could find within a short amount of time. Her life wasn’t that bad. At least she had a home. Not many did those days due to the conditions in Berlin. Jews were being sent to death camps, so most of the apartments and buildings were pretty much empty. Nobody did choose to occupy a house where a Jew once lived. Paranoia was in bloom. People were so irritatingly brainless sometimes.
She noticed how the old lady whom owned the building kept looking at her. It was a suspicious look. Anna hoped the woman did not think of Anna as a Jew. She never did like the owner of the building but she was rather grateful that the lady let Anna rent an apartment. She was at a desperate time when she had come to the building looking for a house. The woman was ever so kind to lend Anna a hand. Back then, Anna wasn’t accused of anything and she had her papers to prove that she was purely above suspicion. But now, she wasn’t. Anna did not know what she had done to get the ridiculous woman suspicious. She hoped the woman had not contacted any authorities about it. Anyways, all the woman did was chitchat and haunt the tenants. She was a bloody nuisance in Anna’s opinion.
Annabella slowly stood from her chair. She began moving toward her living room, closing the door behind her. Fear overcame her. Her memories haunted her. They were not only the memories of the night of the rape, but also her past memories; the memories of her family. Tears built up in her eyes as the door had finally closed shut. She collapsed upon her knees. They hit the cold ground beneath her. Her eyes swelled up. She had been depressed for over a week. The tears began pouring down her eyes like a cascade. Her hand still held the door handle. The door handle felt so rusty and bitter. Her whole body was trembling with fright. She sobbed and sobbed her heart out. She then realized. That was why the old woman was getting rather suspicious. It was Annabella’s endless sobbing.
Anna slowly let go of the handle. Her wrist was still shaking. She slowly got up and gripped a nearby table for support. She pulled out a handkerchief and began to slowly dab at her swollen eyes. Those nasty memories left her wrecked. She moved over to the liquor cabinet. For some reason, Annabella had begun drinking more than usual. Again, it was probably due to her depression. She pulled out a large bottle of whiskey and poured herself a glass. She brought the cup to her pink lips and slowly sipped on it. She moved over to her record player. She put in an old record. The supple, sweet music bounced off the walls of her apartment. She moved over to her couch and sat herself down. She placed the glass on a side-table nearest to her. She felt a bit more relaxed then.
She suddenly heard a knock at the door. Her heartbeat quickened. Could it be? No, it couldn’t be him. She grew slightly cautious. She slowly got up and moved to her record player, turning off the music. The room went silent. She then sauntered over to her door. With all her confidence still left inside of her, she glanced through the peek-hole. Ah, she breathed out a sigh of relief. It was only Agatha, the old lady. Agatha must have heard Annabella’s sobs. Everyone heard her sobs. Heck, she had even gotten some complaints from her next door neighbors. But could Anna really help it? With assurance, she sluggishly opened her door.
”Ah, Agatha. Kann ich irgendetwas für Sie tun können-“ she stopped, for something had stung her. At the corner of her coffee eyes, she caught the glimpse of the figure of a man. She turned toward him. Pausing in her movements, she studied the man’s face. That was when it had hit her. It was him. The man whom knew she lived. Oh, great, just what she had needed. ”Nein.” she muttered underneath her breath. She turned around and began to run into her apartment. She started searching for something, anything really, to get the man off her back. She opened drawers and closets. She had to find that dagger. She always kept a dagger around in case of emergency. Ah, she had finally found it! She reached for the dagger until something caught her movements. [Translations: Ah, Agatha. Is there anything I can do for you?]
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