Post by avelina on Jan 3, 2011 19:16:28 GMT -5
AVELINA|BLYTHE|JONES
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Never too soon
Oh reckless abandon,
Like no one's watching you
❖
Cause I'll be comin' over
While our bloods still young
It's so young, it runs
Won't stop til it's over
Won't stop to surrender
Oh reckless abandon,
Like no one's watching you
❖
Cause I'll be comin' over
While our bloods still young
It's so young, it runs
Won't stop til it's over
Won't stop to surrender
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[/size]IT’S A LIE SHE’S BEEN CARRING AROUND
IT’S THE LIE THAT WILL BRING HER DOWN
[/font][/size]IT’S THE LIE THAT WILL BRING HER DOWN
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[/size]Name: Avelina Blythe Jones
Nickname: Ava, Avey (for those who are close to her), Jones
Age/Birthday: 16 years old | January 20
Gender: Female
Orientation: Heterosexual
Blood Status: Half-blood
Affiliation: Neutral
Year/House: 6 | Gryffindor
Occupation (adults): Student, but wishing to play for the Holyhead Harpies. Probably an auror. Or if all else fails she would become a journalist like her parents.
Wand: 11¼ inch Holly, Dragon Heartstring core. This wand is said to be "pleasantly springy and pliable", and "excellent for transfiguration."
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[/size]TAKES PRIDE IN APPEARANCE
AND THE JOB IN HAND
[/size]AND THE JOB IN HAND
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[/size]Eyes: Iridescent, smokey green eyes.
Hair: Warm brown
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 121
Distinguishing Features(if any): Three faint gashes above her tailbone she received in her third year. Her excuse is the unsuccessful attempt in getting pass the bowtruckles.
Play-by: Kaya Scodelario
Overall appearance:
She inherits her mother's looks; a somewhat ski-jump nose; pale, smokey green eyes like the color of crushed speatmint or sometimes grey like a cloudy day in London town; warm, chestnut hair that falls in delicate curls over her shoulders, though she likes to put it as a braid. Avey, when not in her itchy Hogwarts uniform, is rather relaxed when it comes to selecting outfits. As long as it's comfortable and doesn't make her too invisible then, it's her style.
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[/size]IT’S THE SIMPLE FLAW
THE MIND FORGETS TO LOOK FOR
[/size]THE MIND FORGETS TO LOOK FOR
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[/size]Erised: Her wishes change a lot. She could one day have her ultimate wish of talking to merpeople, being Captain of the Holyhead Harpies, endless supply of sugar quill, getting all the right flavors in Bertie Bott's Every Flavored beans.
Patronus: Her greatest memory was when she discovered the fact that she could do magic. It was in Machu Picchu, Peru, where she had the butterflies do her bidding. Her patronus is a Peregrine Falcon, a bird native to the Americas. She saw one in South America, and its magnificent size and flight left her in awe. The falcon is her Patronus as they are admired for their independent soaring spirits, their agile bodies are usually in excellent condition. Falcons enjoy soaring and are not domestic creatures; they dislike being confined like Avey, who does not adjust well to the confines of the classroom unless the work is creative and challenging. Birds are mysterious and enigmatic individuals who have disassociated themselves from the everyday life of land creatures, and that in Avey is pretty self-explanatory.
Boggart: During her fourth year at Hogwarts, when Lupin taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, her Boggart was a clown. She's coulrophobic.
Dementor: Her worst memory would be seeing her father cried when the terrible news of her mother's death was announced. it was the first time she saw a man cried.
Amortentia: That crisp scent of ice, peppermint, freshly mowed grass, cinnamon and that drowsy scent of dawn.
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[/size]THE PIECE YOU DIDN’T SEE
AND THE PIECE YOU DIDN’T FIGHT FOR
[/size]AND THE PIECE YOU DIDN’T FIGHT FOR
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[/size]Likes: Raspberry pavlovas. Looking down from the suspension bridge or the astronomy tower(she loves heights, flying is her dream). Taking pictures. The great outdoors. Flying her broomstick in great speed so that the whip lightly whips her face. Swearing and cursing and making faces without care because surely the wind won't change and your face won't stay the same. The soothing art of Jazz and the upbeat melody of Bossa Nova. The story of why we're all here a.k.a. his or her story. Sugar Quills.
Dislikes: Thieves. Being underestimated. When people won't listen. Being ignored. When…the joke's on her. Mimblus Mimbletonias. When she gets a slap in the face; either figuratively or literally. Being alone. Toothaches, because then you won't be able to eat candy. Clowns.
Strengths: Transfigurations, Running really quickly, not getting caught, History of Magic, Quidditch and daydreaming.
Weaknesses: The fact that she acts based on instincts, trying to stay out of trouble, turning down a challenge. Good food. Patience and pygmy puffs.
Overall Personality:
Avelina Blythe Jones. To her, it sounded wrong. Too saint-like and fancy; probably Ava or Avey would suit her more. Oh no, she's not down to earth. She's not sensible or realistic; but one who resides in an art-nouveau, curious state of mind and to act based on her instinct.
As a fan of adventures, she enjoys pushing her boundaries. Before receiving an acceptance letter to Hogwarts, Avey was used to be home-schooled by her parents while they (as they are journalists) travel the world. She is an unseen daredevil; brave to the point where one might consider her as reckless. Fun-loving and outgoing. Her casual, unorthodoxly cordial yet incomprehensible demeanor causes her to surprise those who judge a book by its cover. She found love in that feeling of an adrenaline rush and living for the moment, therefore she rushes into things. She's a somewhat optimistic person, and believes that there's always a silver lining in everything. Though she is dauntless attitude, she usually has her head in the clouds. She often dreams of her life one big action story, like Gilderoy Lockhart––before she found out that he was actually a fraud.
In Hogwarts, Avey spent most of her times outside. She doesn't stick to a certain clique––sure, she's got some close friends, but she moves from group to group. She enjoys socializing, to her it made her feel more nomadic like. Flying, next to history and traveling, was her passion. She loved the feeling of the wind blowing back her hair, to move around without gravity pulling her down to her reality. Often, in her free periods, she liked fly with her broom and unorthodox stunts such as diving down to the ground and pulling up in the last minute; or perhaps dangling upside down, a broom which sometimes get her in trouble due to 'violation of safety regulations'.
Like her parents, Avey will never put down a fight. She doesn't fancy getting into one and actually rarely does; but if she is in one, she will endlessly stand up to what she believes in. The thing about Avey, though, in her motivation to 'win', she wants to prove to herself that she can actually do it without weaseling herself in front of other people, which makes her a Gryffindor instead of a Slytherin. And also like her parents, she makes good pancakes.
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IT’S THE CRACKING OF THE GLASS
THE HAUNTING OF YOUR PAST
[/size]THE HAUNTING OF YOUR PAST
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[/size]Family: She lives with her father, Henry Jones, is a muggle who works as a photographer and a journalist. His tasks are often regarding history and nature––usually taking his only daughter Avelina around. Her mother, Kate Jones (nee Foxcliff) passed away when Avey was 11 years old. She now lives alone with her father.
Pets: She owns a tiny barn owl named Ollie and a pygmy puff she calls Puffy. When it comes to names, she lacks in creativity.
Residence: No. 3 Charlbert Street, St. John's Wood, London.
History:
It's funny how a journalist from two different worlds would meet. Henry Jones had a complicated past; he took archaeology as his major he's been a bartender, a history and an english literature teacher, and ended up being a freelance journalist and professional photographer. He was a philanderer, using his talent in being poetic as a way of wooing women…until he met Kate Foxcliff. She was one of those lucky ones who actually achieved their dreams; a journalist for the Daily Prophet. She came from a middle-class pure-blood family and by luck, hated Henry for trying to unsuccessfully seduce her that one day she was going to the pub. Eventually their feelings for each other deepened in the most bizarre manner. Marriage was inevitable; there couldn't be any bigger way to express their love.
The fact that Avey was born in autumn might be the reason why it is her favorite season of the year. She inherited her mother's looks–warm, chestnut hair and pale, grey-green eyes; yet she inherited her father's spunky, dauntless attitude. The family often traveled a lot, and Avey was home-schooled by her parents. She learned not from textbooks but from experiences. She grew attached to her parents, until one day, there was terrible news. It was near Spring break, and Avey was already in her first year at Hogwarts. Henry was restless when Kate suddenly wasn't home for supper, was rarely home on the look out for her while Avey was being looked after by her grandfather. A week later, a man from the ministry came to number 3 Charlbert Street, informing the Joneses that Kate was found dead; someone had used the unforgivable curse on her while she was investigating for one of her articles. The effect of her mother's death was like a fathomless scar to both Henry and Avey. Henry nearly pulled Avey out of Hogwarts; yet after some convincing, her realized that he was being insensible. He grew protective of Avey, and only travels while Avey was in school, trying to spend as much time with her as possible during the holidays.
It was hard living with a muggle father. As she grew older and spent more time in school than she did at home, she realized the fact that she and him lived in two completely different worlds; with only the topic of nature, history and ancient wonders in common. In the transition of becoming a woman, Avey often follows the trend of what is going on the wizarding world––she didn't have her mom to turn to. Her dad, being a muggle and obviously a dad, would sometimes not tolerate Avey's decisions. Despite a few arguments and many unsuccessful silent treatments, Avery shares a strong bond with her dad and really, she was not shy to go to Diagon Alley with him while he's confused at all the things going around.
When it was Avey's first year in Hogwarts, she didn't make a lot of friends. Mostly because she was interested in things the other kids weren't. She would be the kid living inside her big, imaginative world. Hogwarts, indeed, looked much more like a mysterious castle than it looked like a school, so Avey took advantage of that and indulges herself in her own little fairytale. Other kids would usually idolize the seventh-year girls and make an attempt in being rebellious or such, but she was a rather carefree kid.
It was until one day while she was appreciating nature below from the suspension bridge, a blonde girl from Ravenclaw asked her what she was looking at. It was quick, how from that moment she learned that this girl wanted a leprechaun as a pet. Her name was Katniss Hartley and they've become close friends, and not long after that, she became quick friends with a girl she called Hazelnut, only knowing her name was Beverly when Proffesor Snape scolded her in potions.
Her mother's death affected her greatly. After seeing her father cry during that day, she knew that in life nothing always go in happy endings. It's ironically a little bit cliché, but that was her big reality check. She soon donned a more rather relaxed attitude; but she's still the girl with an inexhaustible imagination.
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[/size]YOU TOOK YOUR EYES UP OFF THE GAME
YOU’VE GOT NO ONE LEFT TO BLAME
[/size]YOU’VE GOT NO ONE LEFT TO BLAME
m a k e y o u r m o v e[/center]
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[/size]Name/Alias: Mel
Roleplay Experience: Two years plus.
How you heard about us: Alex, a matie, who applied for the character Katniss Hartley.
VoldyMoldy wants: Supreme awesomeness
Roleplay Sample:
Harry let out a gasp as he toppled back, almost tripping and falling on the persian carpet that lay peacefully behind the pensieve.
"The memory has been tampered, Harry," Chimed a loud, wise voice Harry recognized as Dumbledore's. Somehow he wondered how one could ever get used to the pensieve. Harry looked at him, furrows knitting on his forehead.
"Tampered, sir?" Harry asked back, holding on a stone pillar for support. But before Dumbledore could give a reply, Professor McGonigall came barging into the room.
"Professor," She sounded as if she was hiding a quiver, her voice somewhat high-pitched and squeaky. Harry looked at her curiously, he could recognize the panic in her eyes. Albus Dumbledore looked at her queerly, as McGonigall stared at the two widely with her doe like eyes (with rather wrinkled eye bags).
"Samantha Black has been injured," She started. Harry paused. Injured? He wanted to interupt--as usual--and start asking. "Brutally. It appears someone has used the dark arts in Hogwarts," She continued, with a sharp exhale. She tried keeping her chin up, but it was quivering.
It was bad.
"Dark Arts?" Harry finally said--well, exclaimed, really--"Well why would they hurt Sam? How can--"
Before Harry could finish, Professor Dumbledore exhaled sharply and took a step towards Minerva.
"Harry, stay here, I'll be right back." For they were not finished. But of course, knowing Harry, he stubbornly followed.
It was Samantha Black.
Harry trotted after Dumbledore, grabbing his wand on the desk and exiting the grand office.
"I'm sorry sir, I couldn't help it," Harry muttered as Dumbledore turned to look. As if he was giving up, he turned to face McGonigall and rushed towards the Gryffindor Common Room.
In the library, Marion bought a set of books--miscellaneous items, really, mostly about unicorns and stories by goblins--for the usual Gryffindor hang-out near the fire-place, where one would put marshmallows in the end of a stick and burn it.
Or, for Won Won, a snog-out session. As she stuffed her book in her bag with a casual, distant smile on her face, she saw the marching miniscule parade led by Professor McGonigall, followed by Headmaster Dumbledore and Harry. It was funny how they were pacing rhythmically; left, right, left, right. Long strides. Marion thought Harry was parading for a Duel competition in the Great Hall. But their faces were wrinkled with what seems to be like anxiousness blended with fear. She trotted along behind Harry, but it seems like she couldn't follow the right rhythm.
It made her feel out of place amongst great magicians.
"Harry? What's the hurry?" She whispered, skipping next to him.
Harry seemed distant. He leaned his body towards the right, to look ahead of McGonigall where more students swarmed in.
"Sam," He started. He inhaled. "She's been injured, they say." He couldn't say more. Marion gasped.
"Whispered? What?! Is she alright? Is she fine, what happened, how--" She was starting to pace up in urgency, running a little to look Harry at the face. She wasn't whispering anymore.
"--we're not sure what happened," Harry said, gesticulating minimally with his arms. "All I know is that she's gravely injured, one moment I was--"
Oh right. He wasn't supposed to tell.
"--and the next, McGonigall came and said Sam was injured. Badly."
In that point, Marion said no more. She wasn't smiling, and wasn't frowing either. She was panicking. She looked around and sniffed a little, really, not knowing what to feel.
Then it got worse.
"Students, please, excuse us, coming through. Headmaster coming--" McGonigall couldn't even finish uttering her polite excuse. She closed her mouth at the amount of blood. Harry peeked and swore under his breath. He looked away and took a step back, wincing a little as he felt his scar tingling.
The Dark Mark.
Dumbledore rushed towards Samantha, and it got silent.
"Someone get Madame Pomfrey. Immediately." His voice was full of authority,as some third years scurried upstairs to search for the nurse.
Marion had to push other people away to see the situation. She saw Jessie. The Roberts. Hermione. Sawyer.
Nick.
Then next to them, wrapped in a thick, hurling blanket of blood was her best friend.
Her best friend. Samantha Black.
She didn't even look like Samantha. It didn't look like Samantha. She wanted to vomit. She felt light-headed; he breathing uncontrollably staggered. It was disgusting.
Not the blood, but who in the right mind in all of humanity would do such a thing. All the time Marion thought there was a silver lining. But she didn't now.
She was shaking. She could feel someone touch her, but she shoved them away. She looked at the people around her as she started sniffing. She looked at everyone, Jessie, Michael, Harry, Hermione, Sawyer, Melissa, Neville, Nick. She looked at them numbly. It was as if she blamed them all, but it wasn't a glared. She inhaled, staggered. She felt the tears running, though she tried to hold them back.
Marion Bontecou never, ever cried.
Until now.
this template is credit to xmrsmalfoyx at CAUTION 2.0.
Feel free to add and change as necessary, but please do leave my credit here.
I worked very hard on this, and I’d rather not
have to send my horde of zombie soldiers after you.
[/size][/center]Feel free to add and change as necessary, but please do leave my credit here.
I worked very hard on this, and I’d rather not
have to send my horde of zombie soldiers after you.
