Post by laurent dawlish on May 6, 2010 23:05:35 GMT
THE CHARACTER BASICS
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FULL NAME, laurent aiden dawlishNICKNAMES, laur (lar)
BRITHDAY, fifteenth of march, 1960
HEIGHT, six feet two inches
HOMETOWN, bristol, england
HOUSE, slytherin
BLOOD, pureblood
THE CHARACTER
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BOGGART, “My boggart used to be petty things when I was younger, like clowns. Well, I still don’t fancy clowns much, but who really does? But the other day we were doing a quick boggart review in class and mine turned into a clock! I really had no idea what that was suppose to mean at the time, and needless to say if I didn’t have power over most of the class socially I’d probably have had to deal with them teasing me about it for longer than a week. Anyways I suppose it really stems from the fact that I’m a bit afraid of growing up. My family expects me to go straight into the dark arts or become a death eater like my sister or something—I feel like this is the last semester I have to myself before my future gets decided for me. So I guess it’s not completely out of nowhere that my boggart last transfigured into a clock. I fear time, I suppose. And not having enough of it. I’m not afraid of my future, I’ve just chosen to ignore it for so long that it’s suddenly catching up to me. And maybe I’m not ready to face it. Or maybe I just don’t want to. But it’s coming, regardless, and soon I’ll have to make a choice that changes my whole life.”
AMORTENIA, “The smell of the quidditch pitch in the morning, that earthy smell that reminds me of the potential the day holds—of sweat and blood and usually victory. Well, except for when that James kid interferes. Also, the smell of rain in the middle of a storm—that raw power is something that’s intriguing and desirable and terrifying all at the same time. I adore thunderstorms for that exact reason. And the smell of vanilla. Maybe it was because the only thing my mum could ever properly cook was cookies and other baked goods, but the smell of vanilla is probably my favorite scent. Even more than the quidditch pitch or rain, which is saying something because those are two of my favorite things.”
FAVORITE MEMORY, Would it be to cliché to say my first time on a broom? Well I suppose I have to start with the fact that my dad and I don’t really get on at all. He’s usually too involved in his own life to care much about us, but mum must have convinced him to teach me how to fly the broom they bought me for my birthday, because he actually took a few hours to play with me one afternoon. Anyways I was six, it was my first real broom, and it was magic. I mean, real magic, not the sparkly stuff that comes out of our wands. Blue skies, the rush of the beach and ocean spray as we flew across the waves. He’d taken me to the beach to learn, figuring that I was a strong enough swimmer to make the ocean a good landing spot if I fell. It was perfect. It was the day I fell in love with flying, and the fact that my dad was there was just sort of icing on the cake. It was probably one of the only times he really devoted some of his time to me, he’s made no secret of his favoritism for my elder sister, whose following in his footsteps. But ever since then I’ve loved flying and quidditch and that rush of adrenaline that comes with it."
WORST MEMORY, “Oh, that’s quite easy, sadly enough. Probably the day my mum died. She was sick, beyond what even wizards could heal—and even though we’d been prepared for it for months, it still sucked, for lack of a better term. Mum was the only one who was ever around, who ever really cared. Sometimes I wonder how she ever fell in love with dad, but that’s the nature of love, she always told me while floating around the house. Sometimes you just don’t understand it. I don’t know if I ever will, if what she says is true. But the fact that they stayed together all this time probably is a strong argument for love’s existence but that’s really beside the point. Losing mum when I was just a kid, I couldn’t have been more then twelve, I was just starting Hogwarts, definitely is probably my worst memory. Especially with dad never around, my sister and I sort of raised ourselves, well, with the help of the house elves. But regardless, it was only us growing up together so we became really close. I guess sometimes good things come out of bad events, but it’s still my worst memory, by far.”
BIGEST MISTAKE, “Now that you have the tragic life story that is mine, I must inform you that I do not make mistakes. I am, in fact, entirely perfect and not troubled and tortured and moody despite my dark, cliché past. No, really, I don’t see anything I do as a mistake, because it usually leads to something that’s good. That might sound dumb but I guess I really believe that everything happens for a reason, you know? Like my first best friend when I was a kid, I was horrible to him, but because that friendship fell apart, I was prepared to treat my other friends right. It’s all a learning experience. No regrets, no mistakes. Sounds fair enough, right? Hakuna Matata."
COULD NOT LIVE WITHOUT, “My broom, firewhisky, and my friends. You see, dad used to leave the liquor cabinet unlocked when he disappeared to his study for the evening and sometimes we’d steal the firewhiskey and get completely smashed, and basically just have a really great time. And my broom I couldn’t live without for obvious reasons, flying is my one and only true love, and I really don’t know what I’d do without it. I basically live for the adrenaline rush in life and flying is the only thing that ever really satisfies that. And as the lovely muggle band the Beatles once wrote, ‘I get by with a little help from my friends’. We’re a ton of trouble but we are thick as thieves and they make every day an adventure. I’m not sure what I’d do without those kids.”
SNOG, MARRY, AVOID
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SNOG, “I’ve snogged a lot of girls around the castle—but there’s this one. And I’m not sure why, I just can’t stop from thinking about her. She’s cute, but not the hottest girl around the castle, but she’s still there, every time I see her in the halls. It’s like this weird electric attraction that I can’t shake. It’s like I have to get to know her. And it’s totally out of character for me. Yet, I still find myself searching the halls just to see her face. Dunno if she even knows who I am. Well, everyone knows who I am. At least they think they do. But nobody knows this, of course, I have a reputation to upkeep, and that does not involve falling for a girl. Never fall for girls, they’re all trouble. Just break your heart in the end, yeah? So I have this plan, you see. Woo this said girl, snog her, and cure myself of this annoying attraction. It’ll be easy. Over and done. Then I can move on without her haunting me in my sleep. Not that she does . . . often. Why am I even telling you all of this? You know who I want to snog? That really hot girl in my transfiguration class. And that one in my potions class . . . and on the Gryffindor quidditch team. And the one at NEWT review. Second row. Yeah, that’s it. That’s all you need to know. ”
MARRY, “Wait, you mean spend the rest of my life . . . with ONE person? You’re kidding, right? That would be bloody awful. Always tied down. Nobody actually wants to get married. You know why? Because they spend time thinking about all the other people they missed out on! Come on. Everyone gets divorced these days anyways. Okay, okay, maybe I haven’t really thought about it. But I’m seventeen! You think I’m worried about getting married? No, I’m worried about traffic control in my bed for the night. Maybe someone will come along, maybe she won’t. Who knows? No use in spending time mulling over it right now. But I dunno, maybe when I’m older I’ll reconsider. Right now it just sounds like a bloody trap.”
AVOID, “Who would I avoid? Hmm. Probably those giddy stupid Hufflepuffs or snobby Ravenclaws. Ironic, considering I really want to get in one of their pants. Who? I think that’s my business, not yours. But regardless, anyone who tires overly hard to be perfect just gets on my nerves. We aren’t perfect, so why pretend to be so? Plus, rules are far too fun to break. I’ve always had a little problem with authority. I suppose you could also say I try to avoid muggleborns as well, considering my parents would have my head if they saw me associating with them. I don’t hate them as much as my parents and my sister though—I suppose the constant ranting about mudbloods around the house does that to you. My sister hates them so much she’s gone and become a death eater. I’m not suppose to tell you that though, am I? Not that it matters, nobody will see this but me. I think they expect me to follow her footsteps, I heard You Know Who has asked about me, though you’d think he’d have more important things to worry about. Anyways, I really shouldn’t be talking about this. Next question?”
A VIEW ON THE CHARACTER
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YOUR CHARACTERS NAME GOES HERE IN THE EYES OF MY SISTER, [/size][/color][/font] "Laurent is blunt, wild, womanizing, and usually less than a model citizen. In fact, if you're expecting him to follow a set of rules, good luck, because he isn't much for those either. But what nobody knows is that he can be a real sweetheart. Sometimes he'd make me breakfast (yes, he cooks! and well!) or helps me talk through decisions. He's always been supportive, in his own standoffish way, of me, even when I chose to follow dad's footsteps and serve the dark lord. He's a good kid, even if he puts up a front. He's a lot more like our father than he'll ever admit. It's probably why they butt heads so much. He really just needs someone to tear down that facade he puts up...someone needs to get him to grow up a little. He's a young man acting like a child, simply because he wants to. Maybe one day he'll see it, regardless, there's only one boy who can't ever grow up, and Laurent isn't Peter Pan."- - - - -
ALI XO
ALI XO
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