Post by kayla on Jun 18, 2010 23:45:21 GMT
YOU SAY YOU WANT A REVOLUTION.
[/color]RAFAEL SAMUEL GAUNT[/color]
YOU KNOW WE ALL WANT TO CHANGE THE WORLD.[/color] [/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center]
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: Kayla
AGE: Fifteen
EXPERIENCE: Eight Months
OTHER CHARACTERS: None
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
Oh fucking hell, it hurt so much! James walked out of the room, sweating and holding his side while wincing. He managed to take a few steps before collapsing to the floor and he inhaled deeply, coughing and breathing erratically. He spit out a little blood but it was okay. Everything was okay. He was doing this for the good. His family would be safe, everyone would be safe. This time it was not about blood. This time it was for the battle of equality. Ever since his father defeated the dark lord, everyone said that things were good. People were saying that equality had finally arrived. James wanted to laugh in their faces. Nothing had ever been "equal". Nothing ever would be equal unless James and Morte took things into their hands. They were making the world a better place. Fuck people, especially Fred, if they couldn't see that. Morte was not an idiot, and he certainly was not a bad guy. But everyone had decided to judge on the fact Morte was a Lestrange. They told James that everything was equal that he was equal to every wizard and witch and muggle out there.
Well, that's a fucking lie.
Was it equal to judge based on last names? Was it equal to give the Malfoy's the cold shoulder and castrate them out of society and put the Weasley's in? Was it equal to give honor to a an entire family of fake, pathetic losers instead of people who were to earn honor? A Russian scientist had died two weeks ago and he had been working on the discovery of magic in muggles. It could have been the greatest breakthrough in wizard science, but no. And no one even cared that he died. No one in Hogwarts anyway... Did Dr. Gregory Solovyov deserve to die without dignity? No. And people like his fucking parents had the nerve to tell him that everyone was equal? Well fuck them. They'd learn of their mistakes soon enough. James would take the pain for them. It would be worth it. Then the world would see James and see him as the wizarding world's greatest savior. And, they would not look at him and see The Chosen One's son. No... no, they'd see him as James Sirius Potter: Promoter of Equality; Institutor of Worldwide peace.
James groaned again and finally got himself to prop up against a wall. He looked up and saw the most beautiful person he had ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. She is a glittering void of blissful obscurity, drowning in waves which crash and fracture before her, left with naught but sandy stretches of self that she loathes. It looks like she has been stripped bare and it kills her - it leaves her wondering why she was chosen and she does not like to doubt. When she doubts she is no longer blind, and when she is not blind it is harder.
But she has two eyes - and they see devastation.
Then there is him. He is a man and she is a girl. His scars whisper fables of battles and bravery, his eyes burn with the passion she longs for, and when she smiles, James forgets that the Scottish countryside often makes her want to walk off the end of the Earth. He does not know her, but what does this matter in the grand scheme of things? Admittedly, the answer to that question may be a lot, but to him she is not just a woman, for she is greater than many and he is being ambushed by the possibility of dreams - James is dreaming of possibilities.
She is not of this world. She treats it like home, but it is a home when she is caged and longing to take flight. He watches as she itches, as her wings flutter, as she prepares to fly away home and leave him and his boyishness behind, ignorant of his admiration. James wonders why it is he with champion emblazoned across his breast rather than this woman, but it occurs to him that maybe it is due to the fact she does not need fraudulent declarations. It is within her and maybe she will teach him. If he is lucky.
This woman... this angel neglects to notice him as he is desperate for her too. As it stands, her esteem is flooding her barren shores, leaving her breathless, letting her heart accelerate beyond.
Beyond the pale, and the black and white, and beyond it all.
They are to have many encounters over the years, but the moment for these has not yet arrived. For now, and maybe forever, he is the young boy on his father's broom trying so hard to show the world how he has grown and lamenting as the broom breaks, the ends fray and the wood shatters. And why she causes them to shatter he cannot quite say, but she does and they do. James calls out to her. He jumps up and suddenly falls to the ground, screaming out in pain. He groans and looks up.
She is not of this world. And she has gone.
James tries to get up, and it is harder, because if he stays then he is weak and he does not like to be weak. He manages to get up on his knees, grasping at his side. He pulls his hand away and wipes the blood away on his trousers and his hand to his face to wipe away the sweat, leaving a burgundy stain that will haunt him always. Even when he ventures into his room, finally, he will wash his face and the memories of that night but they will forever haunt him. But it was for the good of the people. Whoever said that making the world a better place would be easy? James knew... he knew he'd have to... kill a person and that's what scared him. Killing was bad, a crime against humanity. If he was killing what made him better than the dark lord himself? He now wondered what his father was like when he was seventeen. Oh right, he was saving the world as well. Did he feel the same? No, of course not. Harry Potter had the help of a million witches and wizards whereas James has had only a few. Only a few are to know of their plans to help the wizarding world.
James grabs onto the side of the stone wall. She wants him to. She wants him to get up and follow her, right? He stood up, groaned, and he gritted his teeth in pain. He felt weak and when one feels weak, one feels like giving up. No. James Potter did not understand the definition of giving up. He would not give up. No matter what sweet nothings she was trying to whisper into his ear. He cried out in pain before his shaky leg gave out and he fell back down to the floor. "FUCKING HELL!" He screamed out in anger. His shrieks rattled the halls of Hogwarts and he bristled, sitting there in agony. He would wait then. He had given up. He was tired. They fucked him up and he hated it. They fucked him up viciously. They had shown him the world of the cruel and immoral and they had shown him no mercy. No mercy. He looked up for the girl but she was not there.
She is not of this world. She has gone.
Well, that's a fucking lie.
Was it equal to judge based on last names? Was it equal to give the Malfoy's the cold shoulder and castrate them out of society and put the Weasley's in? Was it equal to give honor to a an entire family of fake, pathetic losers instead of people who were to earn honor? A Russian scientist had died two weeks ago and he had been working on the discovery of magic in muggles. It could have been the greatest breakthrough in wizard science, but no. And no one even cared that he died. No one in Hogwarts anyway... Did Dr. Gregory Solovyov deserve to die without dignity? No. And people like his fucking parents had the nerve to tell him that everyone was equal? Well fuck them. They'd learn of their mistakes soon enough. James would take the pain for them. It would be worth it. Then the world would see James and see him as the wizarding world's greatest savior. And, they would not look at him and see The Chosen One's son. No... no, they'd see him as James Sirius Potter: Promoter of Equality; Institutor of Worldwide peace.
James groaned again and finally got himself to prop up against a wall. He looked up and saw the most beautiful person he had ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. She is a glittering void of blissful obscurity, drowning in waves which crash and fracture before her, left with naught but sandy stretches of self that she loathes. It looks like she has been stripped bare and it kills her - it leaves her wondering why she was chosen and she does not like to doubt. When she doubts she is no longer blind, and when she is not blind it is harder.
But she has two eyes - and they see devastation.
Then there is him. He is a man and she is a girl. His scars whisper fables of battles and bravery, his eyes burn with the passion she longs for, and when she smiles, James forgets that the Scottish countryside often makes her want to walk off the end of the Earth. He does not know her, but what does this matter in the grand scheme of things? Admittedly, the answer to that question may be a lot, but to him she is not just a woman, for she is greater than many and he is being ambushed by the possibility of dreams - James is dreaming of possibilities.
She is not of this world. She treats it like home, but it is a home when she is caged and longing to take flight. He watches as she itches, as her wings flutter, as she prepares to fly away home and leave him and his boyishness behind, ignorant of his admiration. James wonders why it is he with champion emblazoned across his breast rather than this woman, but it occurs to him that maybe it is due to the fact she does not need fraudulent declarations. It is within her and maybe she will teach him. If he is lucky.
This woman... this angel neglects to notice him as he is desperate for her too. As it stands, her esteem is flooding her barren shores, leaving her breathless, letting her heart accelerate beyond.
Beyond the pale, and the black and white, and beyond it all.
They are to have many encounters over the years, but the moment for these has not yet arrived. For now, and maybe forever, he is the young boy on his father's broom trying so hard to show the world how he has grown and lamenting as the broom breaks, the ends fray and the wood shatters. And why she causes them to shatter he cannot quite say, but she does and they do. James calls out to her. He jumps up and suddenly falls to the ground, screaming out in pain. He groans and looks up.
She is not of this world. And she has gone.
James tries to get up, and it is harder, because if he stays then he is weak and he does not like to be weak. He manages to get up on his knees, grasping at his side. He pulls his hand away and wipes the blood away on his trousers and his hand to his face to wipe away the sweat, leaving a burgundy stain that will haunt him always. Even when he ventures into his room, finally, he will wash his face and the memories of that night but they will forever haunt him. But it was for the good of the people. Whoever said that making the world a better place would be easy? James knew... he knew he'd have to... kill a person and that's what scared him. Killing was bad, a crime against humanity. If he was killing what made him better than the dark lord himself? He now wondered what his father was like when he was seventeen. Oh right, he was saving the world as well. Did he feel the same? No, of course not. Harry Potter had the help of a million witches and wizards whereas James has had only a few. Only a few are to know of their plans to help the wizarding world.
James grabs onto the side of the stone wall. She wants him to. She wants him to get up and follow her, right? He stood up, groaned, and he gritted his teeth in pain. He felt weak and when one feels weak, one feels like giving up. No. James Potter did not understand the definition of giving up. He would not give up. No matter what sweet nothings she was trying to whisper into his ear. He cried out in pain before his shaky leg gave out and he fell back down to the floor. "FUCKING HELL!" He screamed out in anger. His shrieks rattled the halls of Hogwarts and he bristled, sitting there in agony. He would wait then. He had given up. He was tired. They fucked him up and he hated it. They fucked him up viciously. They had shown him the world of the cruel and immoral and they had shown him no mercy. No mercy. He looked up for the girl but she was not there.
She is not of this world. She has gone.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[/color][/CENTER]