Post by taytay on Jun 20, 2010 2:24:21 GMT
YOU SAY YOU WANT A REVOLUTION.
[/color]VICTOIRE AMELIE WEASLEY[/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:
CARE-FREE: THE GIRL DOESN'T HAVE A CARE IN THE WORLD. SHE'S ALWAYS OUT HAVING A GOOD TIME, WITHOUT THINKING OF THE CONSEQUENCES.
HONEST: VICTOIRE ISN'T ONE TO LIE TO SOMEONE'S FACE, UNLESS IT IS COMPLETELY NECESSARY.
LOYAL: IF IN A RELATIONSHIP, AND MOST IMPORTANTLY WITH HER FRIENDS, VICTOIRE IS EXTREMELY LOYAL. SHE WOULD DO ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING FOR HER FRIENDS AND LOVED ONES.
PASSIONATE: WHEN VIKKI IS DETERMINED, SHE CAN BE VERY PASSIONATE ABOUT SOMETHING. ESPECIALLY WHEN SHE FEELS VERY STRONGLY ABOUT SOMETHING.
SPONTANEOUS: SPONTANEITY IS KEY WITH MISS WEASLEY. SHE GETS BORED RATHER EASILY, SO ANYTHING THAT CAN KEEP HER ON HER TOES, SHE'LL DO.[/ul]
WEAKNESSES:
STUBBORN: VICTOIRE HAS TO BE ONE OF THE MOST HOT-HEADED, STUBBORN GIRLS THERE IS. SHE HATES BEING WRONG, AND IT IS RARE THAT SHE EVER ADMITS SHE IS.
TEDDY LUPIN: THE BOY CAN EASILY TURN HER INTO A GIANT PUDDLE OF GOO WITH JUST ONE SMILE. HE'S THE ONLY ONE WHO TRULY GETS HER AND, OF COURSE, HER BEST FRIEND.[/ul]
AMORTENTIA:
BOGGART:
PATRONUS:
MIRROR OF THE ERISED:
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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: TAYTAY*.
AGE: SIXTEEN.
EXPERIENCE: NE YEARS.
OTHER CHARACTERS: NONE.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
Cohen stepped onto the freshly manicured lawns of Norrington Academy, his long, gangly legs carrying him forward with each step. It was Saturday evening and the school was awfully quiet. Not that he blamed anyone, the sun was still shining and it was a weekend. Every normal teenager in the tristate area went out on weekends. Except for Cohen. But Cohen wasn't your average teenager. The only time he left the school campus was to go to his job at the local Cinema, but other then that, he was either holed up in his room playing video games or reading his comics, or in the library doing homework.
The grounds were empty save for a couple make out under a tree and a person reading a book on a nearby bench. Cohen passed the people, making his way to his favorite spot. Cohen had found out about this spot last week, when he was trying to get some peace and quiet. He saw that practically no one came to this spot, so he declared it his. It was a giant oak tree, probably a thousand years old, on the far south east corner of the grounds. It provided excellent shade on sunny days and it sort of hid him from every one else. It was secluded, just the way he liked it.
The reason Cohen was so anti-social could probably date back to the second grade, when everyone would tease him just because he said things that other kids found weird. He would always be constantly picked on and given countless wedgies. He couldn't help the way he was, he simply just was. Only because he would rather read books than play with other kids. There was only one person who understood him, a girl to be exact. Cohen smiled to himself at the irony. He was terrified of the female species and yet his best and probably only true friend growing up had been a girl. She wasn't just any girl, though. She was his best friend, his confidante. You wouldn't think a kid needed one in the second grade, but Cohen definitely did. And they were inseparable until she moved away in the fifth grade.
He remembered the day perfectly, It was implanted in his brain and he couldn't get it out. It was the week before the sixth grade would be starting and Cohen had just finished his latest book, The Catcher in the Rye. He was in his backyard when he had finished and so he just hopped the short fence like countless times before and rushed over to tell Jacqueline that this was by far his favorite book. She would always tease him, saying that every book he read he claimed was his favorite, but Cohen was sure about this one. "hey mrs. D'aubigne." Jack's mother was painting on the back porch. She jumpled slightly, spilling a bit of her red wine. She opened her mouth to tell Cohen something but was too late, he was already headed up the stairs for Jack's room. "Jack! Jack! It was amazing! You have to rea-" when he reached her room, he cut himself off. Expecting to see his best friends' freckled face, instead he was greeted by an empty room. The bed had been
stripped of Jack's flower patterned bed sheets and the closet was empty. And the picture of her and Cohen at the beach from a couple of summers ago was no longer on her night stand. At first, innocent, young Cohen thought that maybe she moved into a different room, but reality struck like a bolt of lightning and soon it had hit him. Jack's was gone. But why? Where did she go? When did she leave? And most importantly, why did she leave with out saying good bye? Jack's mother stood at the threshold as Cohen turned around. "she really didn't want to leave with out saying good-bye, but it was just such short notice." Cohen couldn't look into her eyes, nor could he speak. He didn't want her to see him cry either so he just pushed past Mrs. D'aubigne and ran as fast as his skinny legs could carry him.
The memory played through his head like a broken record. Cohen remembered how much he cried that night, but from then on, life was a total blur. He became even more socially awkward than before and distanced himself away from girls. He was afraid that if he let someone in as close as he had let Jacks, they would leave him just like she had. Cohen knew it was ridiculous of him, but he just couldn't get over it, even after so many years. Sometimes he wondered what she was like now. If she still thought about him or missed him or even remembered him. Was she still the care-free little fire cracker she used to be, who would never let someone get to her and would always stick up to anyone being mistreated? He hoped so.
Cohen sighed as he leaned back against the great Oak's trunk, thrusting his hands into his pant pockets. He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. It had been so long, he wouldn't be surprised if Jacks had just been a fragment of his imagination. He looked up at the sky to see that the sun was just beginning to set. In California, the sun always set around seven or eight, sometimes later in the summer time. He let his head drop slightly and looked down at the ground. He almost snapped his head off from how fast he looked back up. Right in front of him, he saw a tall, female figure heading across his way. The girl had semi-tanned skin and long, dark hair. Cohen couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was as if thinking of her had conjured her out of mid-air. "it's not her, Cohen. You're going nuts.". But something about this girl seemed so familiar. He started walking forward with out realizing it. He was determined to see who it was, he wanted to know
he at least has a tiny bit of sanity left in him. As he approached, his eyes flew open in shock.
That freckled face was unmistakable.
The grounds were empty save for a couple make out under a tree and a person reading a book on a nearby bench. Cohen passed the people, making his way to his favorite spot. Cohen had found out about this spot last week, when he was trying to get some peace and quiet. He saw that practically no one came to this spot, so he declared it his. It was a giant oak tree, probably a thousand years old, on the far south east corner of the grounds. It provided excellent shade on sunny days and it sort of hid him from every one else. It was secluded, just the way he liked it.
The reason Cohen was so anti-social could probably date back to the second grade, when everyone would tease him just because he said things that other kids found weird. He would always be constantly picked on and given countless wedgies. He couldn't help the way he was, he simply just was. Only because he would rather read books than play with other kids. There was only one person who understood him, a girl to be exact. Cohen smiled to himself at the irony. He was terrified of the female species and yet his best and probably only true friend growing up had been a girl. She wasn't just any girl, though. She was his best friend, his confidante. You wouldn't think a kid needed one in the second grade, but Cohen definitely did. And they were inseparable until she moved away in the fifth grade.
He remembered the day perfectly, It was implanted in his brain and he couldn't get it out. It was the week before the sixth grade would be starting and Cohen had just finished his latest book, The Catcher in the Rye. He was in his backyard when he had finished and so he just hopped the short fence like countless times before and rushed over to tell Jacqueline that this was by far his favorite book. She would always tease him, saying that every book he read he claimed was his favorite, but Cohen was sure about this one. "hey mrs. D'aubigne." Jack's mother was painting on the back porch. She jumpled slightly, spilling a bit of her red wine. She opened her mouth to tell Cohen something but was too late, he was already headed up the stairs for Jack's room. "Jack! Jack! It was amazing! You have to rea-" when he reached her room, he cut himself off. Expecting to see his best friends' freckled face, instead he was greeted by an empty room. The bed had been
stripped of Jack's flower patterned bed sheets and the closet was empty. And the picture of her and Cohen at the beach from a couple of summers ago was no longer on her night stand. At first, innocent, young Cohen thought that maybe she moved into a different room, but reality struck like a bolt of lightning and soon it had hit him. Jack's was gone. But why? Where did she go? When did she leave? And most importantly, why did she leave with out saying good bye? Jack's mother stood at the threshold as Cohen turned around. "she really didn't want to leave with out saying good-bye, but it was just such short notice." Cohen couldn't look into her eyes, nor could he speak. He didn't want her to see him cry either so he just pushed past Mrs. D'aubigne and ran as fast as his skinny legs could carry him.
The memory played through his head like a broken record. Cohen remembered how much he cried that night, but from then on, life was a total blur. He became even more socially awkward than before and distanced himself away from girls. He was afraid that if he let someone in as close as he had let Jacks, they would leave him just like she had. Cohen knew it was ridiculous of him, but he just couldn't get over it, even after so many years. Sometimes he wondered what she was like now. If she still thought about him or missed him or even remembered him. Was she still the care-free little fire cracker she used to be, who would never let someone get to her and would always stick up to anyone being mistreated? He hoped so.
Cohen sighed as he leaned back against the great Oak's trunk, thrusting his hands into his pant pockets. He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. It had been so long, he wouldn't be surprised if Jacks had just been a fragment of his imagination. He looked up at the sky to see that the sun was just beginning to set. In California, the sun always set around seven or eight, sometimes later in the summer time. He let his head drop slightly and looked down at the ground. He almost snapped his head off from how fast he looked back up. Right in front of him, he saw a tall, female figure heading across his way. The girl had semi-tanned skin and long, dark hair. Cohen couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was as if thinking of her had conjured her out of mid-air. "it's not her, Cohen. You're going nuts.". But something about this girl seemed so familiar. He started walking forward with out realizing it. He was determined to see who it was, he wanted to know
he at least has a tiny bit of sanity left in him. As he approached, his eyes flew open in shock.
That freckled face was unmistakable.
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