Post by superstition on Jun 2, 2009 14:26:11 GMT 1
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I BEEN ROAMIN' AROUND ,
always lookin' down at all i see
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ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER[/center]
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PAINTED FACES FILL ,
[/font]PAINTED FACES FILL ,
the spaces i can't reach
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NICKNAMES: Al, Sev, Sevvie
AGE: 22
YEAR: N/A
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Straight
D.O.B.: September 3rd, 2005
HOUSE/FORMER HOUSE: Slytherin
ALLEGIANCE: Neutral
PROFESSION: Unspeakable at the Ministry of Magic
WAND TYPE: 12.5 Inch Vine, with Dragon Heartstring core
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YOU KNOW THAT I ,
[/font]YOU KNOW THAT I ,
could use somebody
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EYE COLOUR: Green, like his dad's once again, and his grandmother's, too. (Paternal side, at least - and he's the only one out of the three children to have that color.)
HEIGHT: 5' 10¾"
WEIGHT: 140 lbs
BODY TYPE: Lean muscular type that came with Quidditch practice.
VOICE: Having grown up in Godric's Hollow all his life, Albus has only ever been exposed to the British accent, and as such has one. However, since most of the people who attended Hogwarts in his time had the same accent, he never noticed the difference. That is, until later in his life when he started traveling more, and the difference was more notable. Albus doesn't make it a point to raise his voice, often appearing quiet and reserved. When he spoke however, it was always in a soft and silky tone, vaguely resembling the man who he shared his middle name with. Coincidence? Perhaps.
PERSONAL STYLE: He fancies clothing that makes him look presentable and of some importance. As such, he does favor business robes and what not, but for casual functions he'll make it a point to don jeans and a button-up shirt. Why yes, he does like the color black, much to his brother's chagrin.
GENERAL DESCRIPTION: Ah well, how does Albus Severus Potter look like? Well, on first sight, you'd probably see a miniature replica of Harry James Potter.
Out of the three Potter kids, he was the only to receive Lily's eyes, his grandmother's. Makes him feel special at times, since his father dotes on him a little more than normal. And his eyes held the most expression the boy could ever muster, given that he was a rather silent type, the need for talking never appealing to him. He loved hearing other people talk, but when it came to himself he rather hold his silence, usually finding nothing to say.
The fact that for a tall kid, he's rather scrawny. Some people deem it that he under-eats, but that's rather untrue. He eats enough for a boy of his age, yet he never seems to gain weight. Many say that his physical structure at the moment resembled his dad when he was young, although Albus doesn't know whether it's true. Still, he's been forced many a time by his Grandmother Molly to eat more than he likes. His dad says that he was succumbed to the same treatment too, apparently, further assuring him that the treatment wouldn't stop till he was finally 'fat' - at this, Albus is scared.
He has high cheekbones, and a rather pale complexion. This isn't his fault though - he was born like that. Although he feels slightly different since Lily and James are more tanned, his mother teases that it makes his middle name ever more apt, since Severus Snape was rather pale too. Of course, his mother constantly thanks the heavens that he doesn't have the greasy hair attributed to the former Potions Master. "Would be downright horrible", that's what she says.
Albus isn't really conscious of his looks, but he does takenjoysopts to He dresses for work, since he enjoys his field of work in the ministry, and likes looking presentable, as oppossed to the scruffy look some people enjoy taking on when it came to their outfits. He carries himself well, and tends to capture the attention of his audience when he speaks, because while those times are rare and few, he tends to make insightful observations.
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AND ALL YOU KNOW ,
[/font]AND ALL YOU KNOW ,
and how you speak
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CHARACTER DISLIKES:
GOALS: To live each day to the fullest, for letting something pass by without care is such a waste and an insult to it. Also, to become the next Department Head of the Department of Mysteries. He aims to be a top Unspeakable, of course.
BOGGART: The loss of his family, the one thing dearest to him.
PATRONUS: His first day of school when he was sorted, and despite getting into Slytherin, he got his brother's and Rose's full support for the placement of his house. And to think he was even nervous!
DEMENTOR: Possibly the time he fell off his broom in his third year because the team captain had foolishly decided to hold a training session in the middle of a thunderstorm. He hadn't seen the bludger flying towards his head, of course. Let him be the first to say that falling from a height of a hundred feet is nothing you want to experience. He has to thank one of his teammate for the quick save before he collided with the ground. He still has nightmares, but the love for Quidditch never faded.
AMORENTIA: Lavender, Freshly cut grass, Rain and Green tea
BASIC PERSONALITY: Confident, Loyal, Intelligent, Sly, Impatient, Daydreamer, Observant, Witty, Bashful
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COUNTLESS LOVERS ,
[/font]COUNTLESS LOVERS ,
under cover of the streets
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MOTHER: Ginerva Molly Weasley
BROTHER(S): James Sirius Potter
SISTER(S): Lily Luna Potter
OTHER: James Potter (Paternal Grandfather), Lily Potter (Paternal Grandmother), Arthur Weasley (Maternal Grandfather), Molly Weasley (Maternal Grandmother), Ronald Bilius Weasley (Uncle), Hermione Jean Weasley née Granger (Aunt), Rose Weasley (Cousin), Hugo Weasley (Cousin), Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy (Cousin-in-law)
BLOOD STATUS: Half-Blood
HOMETOWN: England
CURRENT RESIDENCE: Godric's Hollow still, I'm afraid. He's saving up to move out, which he eventually will. :]
BIOGRAPHY:
--- INTRODUCTION.
Born on September Third, Albus Severus Potter was the second in the Potter family, born to Harry James Potter and Ginerva Molly Weasley. A boy that resembled his father very much, with striking green eyes of Lily Evans-Potter. Perhaps it was because of the fact that he had her eyes, did his father name him something rather important. Albus was named after two Headmasters of Hogwarts, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, and Severus Snape. His dad had also personally told him--
"Albus Severus, you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew."
Perhaps it was because of the fact that he himself was named after such important people, that in life he strived for excellence. Furthurmore, he was under the shadow of his older brother, and the fact that his parents were War Heroes, his father being the main hero of them all. He had to live up to their expectations, and their reputation. A perfectionist, that never fails to get on people's nerves, that was Albus. Throughout his stages as a baby and a child, towards a youth and a teen, the one word to describe Albus overall would be perfectionist.
--- CHILDHOOD.
Growing up is always hard. At least, that's what everyone says. Since young, Albus was a rather inquisitive kid. He would pull at things and stare at them, often unknowingly putting it into his mouth. He had even taken his dad's wand and put it in his mouth before, but thankfully his mom had saw what he had done, and had rushed to take the wand out before anything bad had happened. And because of this very incident, well, let's just say his parents thought twice about leaving their wands about, with the inquisitive Albus on the prowl.
Albus grew up with James, since he was the only sibling Albus had at that time, and for two years Albus became his brother's little sidekick, sticking to James like there was no tomorrow. Through constant teasing, slowly Albus gained two nicknames. Al, which was what everyone called him, since they were rather lazy of sorts to call him Albus, the 'bus' sounding weird there. However, another nickname known to only his brother and sister, was Sevvie. Once, when James had found out that his brother's name was Severus - how he remained clueless all these years Albus didn't know - he immediately launched into a range of nicknames. Over the years, Sev was the first name to come out. Of course the names soon ranged from Sevvie-kins to Sevvie-poo, and when Albus finally drew the line, the two siblings stuck to calling him Sevvie, since it was the closest to the original.
Yet, Albus matured quickly. By the age of ten, when it was clear he either assisted in the pranks or get pranked, Albus became the chief strategist of all the pranks that were played by his siblings and cousins onto unsuspecting victims. Having a quick mind, Albus was more than capable of devising plans, and the only one who could ever counter him in his plans was his Uncle and Aunt Weasley, who together were much better than him in terms of strategising and planning. But it was because such a childhood that challenged him to see all routes of offence and defence certainly helped him in the future, as well as boosting his confidence each time something he did was successful.
--- SCHOOL LIFE
It was well known that Albus was worried about which house he would go to. Since his personality didn't exactly help into choosing which house he would get into - James was a Gryffindor, through and through, and Lily was destined for there too, given her behaviour - Albus was confused. And James didn't help, when he said that Albus might get sorted into Slytherin, "the bad house". Panic and worry entered his mind, and as Albus complained about this to his dad, Harry reassured his son that nothing would be wrong if he got into Slytherin. Still, uneasiness was on the boy's mind.
Throughout the train ride, he was afraid. Despite what his dad said, he couldn't help worry. After all, he was an insecure little kid. The nagging suspicion that he would be in Slytherin continued to worry him, right until he was called up to the stool, to get sorted. Staring at everyone around him, he gulped, before moving on up. Whispers were abound, since after all, he was a Potter, and his name did contain two Wizards who left a remarkable legend behind. Everyone was probably on the edge of their seats, waiting to see where he would go. Somehow though, amongst the whispers, Albus swore he heard James bet that Albus would join Slytherin. Thanks bro. Despite the worry that his brother had caused him, Albus figured it was alright to get into Slytherin anyway. His parents had said they would support him no matter what, hadn't they?
And so eleven year old Albus Severus Potter was sorted into Slytherin.
At the age of twelve, when he was eligible to apply for the Quidditch team, Albus went to try-out, and became second string keeper for the team. Apparently, he fared better in defence than in offence, and he couldn't blame anyone for that. However, determined to do both his parents proud - for they were excellent Quidditch players - Albus persistently practiced. Plus, his brother was outshining him on the broom, as his sister probably would. Apparently, the Quidditch genes didn't exactly pass to everyone equally. Eventually in fourth year, Albus was promoted to first string, and became the official keeper of the Slytherin team. Still lacking in skill, he tried his best nonetheless.
A hardworker when it came to Quidditch, he certainly didn't slack on his studies. While he didn't have as much natural talent as his brother, Albus was decidedly the smartest in the family, and often enough spent most of his time in the library reading and revising. He scored excellent grades, and over the years at Hogwarts, his favorite subject became Potions and Charms, subjects that challenged the mind the most. This probably explained his future career choice when he left school, but that would be explained later.
In his fifth year, Albus sat for his O.W.Ls that year, and got an O in all subjects but History of Magic, of which he got an A for, sadly. Ah well, the Potter had never been big on memorising texts, after all. Nonetheless, this was a feat worth commendation, and his parents expressed their heartfelt feelings at this annoucement, causing's Albus confidence to gain yet another boost. We certainly couldn't have a Potter who didn't believe in himself, could we? In his seventh year, while Albus didn't make Head Boy, he certainly excelled in his studies, making him one of the few students who graduated with top honors, putting his name in line with that of his aunt (Hermione Weasley nee Granger). He was proud of his achievements, and this left him with an impressive resume to present to the world.
-- POST GRADUATION
After he graduated, Albus spent the year touring the world, deciding to broaden his horizons by visiting other areas, and it was at this point that he realised he had a rather startling accent, in contrast to that of back home. The trip around the world certainly did much to add to his knowledge, and when he returned, it seemed like he had completely lost the old Albus, shy and worrying needlessly, and a new Albus in his place: more confident, outgoing, and much more charming. He immediately applied to become an Unspeakable with the Ministry, given that the job definitely intrigued him since a young age when he had heard of his dad's visit to the Department of Mysteries in his fifth year. The minute he was accepted, he then devoted himself to working hard, and has now rose to a rank second only to that of the current head of the Department of Mysteries. Not bad, if one had to say so. He didn't ignore his family, of course, and even made it a point to attend Rose's wedding to Scorpius, offering both (who he had formed a deep friendship with) his heartfelt congratulations and blessings. An accomplished member of the Ministry, it's probably needless to say that Albus really enjoys his job?
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I HOPE IT'S GONNA MAKE ,
[/font]I HOPE IT'S GONNA MAKE ,
you notice someone like me,
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RP EXPERIENCE: Three, I believe.
HOW YOU FOUND US: Through an advertisment.
OTHER CHARACTERS: First!
RP SAMPLE:
He was worried now. For a moment, they seemed to be talking amiably with each other. You know, like how friends did. For a second, a brief, miserable one on hindsight, he thought that maybe she regarded him as one too. He listened to her. She was angry. Her tone, her expression, her words- they all said the same thing. And he knew what she was talking about. Mad? What an understatement. Angry? Beyond it. But he listened. Jasper listened to every word, not once making a single comment as she chatised him, scolded him. He was getting a picture of himself from her words. Was he really like that? Unfeeling? Cold? Heartless? She made him out to be like a monster, from her words. He was that scary, apparently. Being the second heir to the Pavlovsky family, even though he wasn't very well recognised, people still had some sort of respect for him. They never criticised him. His father did, but only on his manners. He knew his P's and Q's, knew his A to the B's to the C's, and how to behave when in public. He never said more than was neccesary, he could smile in any situation, ever unfaltering. It was a perfected skill, and Jasper knew about it. He knew how to utilize it well. His gaze remained steady, blue eyes still fixed on her as she talked.
She was angry.
She was blaming him.
She... cared?
The last statement sprung out surprisingly from his mind, and he wondered where it stemmed from. Well, it was a reasonable explanation, given that Jasper could not deduce why she was so affected by the fact that he was insincere with her. He had thought she didn't think him as a friend; as such, he was but an acquaintance. Matters of him didn't matter to her. All she had was shared custody of 'H'. He had made it so, and Jasper simply refused to revoke that. She probably could, if she wanted to, and in which case Jasper would be stuck with a cat that would serve as nothing but a reminder of a failed friendship. But the fact that she was bothered by it - by everything about it - meant that she had to feel something for him, right? Not in a romantic sense, he didn't believe that, but in the fact that he was more than just a passing acquaintance. A comrade. Company. Friend. the word was foreign to him.
He was not just another person. She at least cared about him. Jasper had forgotten this warmth that had came with friends, for it had been a long time since he had been one of such things; a friend. The last one he had had been shunned by his parents. Or rather, his father in particular. Squib! He is but a disgrace! The poor boy had been chased out of the house with his father's cane, and out of Jasper's life with not much as a trace left. He had been five when that had happened. He was sixteen now. Eleven years was a long, long time. Perhaps that was why he hadn't actually opened up his heart to anyone. A friendly bloke, he definitely was, but he wasn't sincere about anything. The walls had been put up. Thinner than most, but definitely still there. The incident at seven had caused it to be solidified with a layer of cement, if only to prevent furthur hurt. A silly method, but it worked.
Working up the courage to speak when she was done, Jasper found that he had to work up more courage to put into action the plan he had formulated in his head. A tentative step forward, Jasper put his hands on her shoulders firmly, so that she simply could not shake off his hold. "Ashlan. Look at me," he asked softly, a request, if nothing else. A sigh, before he decided that he would rectify this situation. He would indeed, because he didn't want to lose her company. She wasn't as judgmental as others, she was unique in her own way. And he liked her company, very much so. "Ashlan," he repeated, her name familiar on his tongue having said it many a time before. Deciding to lower his volume, he closed his eyes, exhaling. And spoke.
"I have a weak heart. And I do not mean a defect. No, I mean a weak heart. It has supported me until now, and possibly for a few more years. But I am a miracle as I stand here before you. They expected me to die at eleven - I wasn't going to any Wizarding school. Mother thought that. I'm sixteen, and I'm still alive. That is a miracle, in a sense." He didn't break his gaze, pressing on, "That is my problem. That is the reason why Marshall Alexeich Pavlovsky, my brother who is two years younger than me, is the true heir to the Pavlovsky family. He does not know, simply because no one has told him. But my father had made it in his will that I am the second heir, despite the fact that I am indeed a male and the first born of the family. I will not succeed the title of the family. I am the one that is not important."
He swallowed thickly, before continuing, "I came to Hogwarts, seeking to go away from this obvious prejudice that my family gives me. No one loves me there. I am the kid that stains the Pavlovsky bloodline. They do not believe I should live, but to kill me would cause a scandal. Love, you ask? I have never experienced that from my father. At least, not that I can remember. I was deduced of this defect when I was two. I remember nothing but my father's strict ruling that he only practiced with me, and my grandparent's scorn. Only my Mother cared for me, and did Marshall, but that is unconditional love. Unconditional does not mean I earned it. It just means I had it in the first place." He blinked once, twice. His tone was pained. One couldn't help it when recounting such events, after all.
"What I think of you?" he finally shifted the topic, away from his problem. It was a main concern she had addressed. And he was determined to answer it. Anything she asked. "You are a friend. I do not seek to make you feel uncomfortable - my apologies for doing that. I care about you. More than the average person, because I regard you as my friend. You do things for me most people wouldn't bother to." He licked his lips, shook his head to flip the blond hair out of his eyes. "And I most certainly appreciated your concern. It was... something foreign. To receive such concern other than from my mother. I do not make fun of you - but you seem so reluctant to bear my touch, I didn't think you'd want to touch me. Holding this cloth-" he said, referencing to the cloth that was now on the ground, "-was so that you need not touch me. I thought wrong."
"And for that, I am... sorry."
She was angry.
She was blaming him.
She... cared?
The last statement sprung out surprisingly from his mind, and he wondered where it stemmed from. Well, it was a reasonable explanation, given that Jasper could not deduce why she was so affected by the fact that he was insincere with her. He had thought she didn't think him as a friend; as such, he was but an acquaintance. Matters of him didn't matter to her. All she had was shared custody of 'H'. He had made it so, and Jasper simply refused to revoke that. She probably could, if she wanted to, and in which case Jasper would be stuck with a cat that would serve as nothing but a reminder of a failed friendship. But the fact that she was bothered by it - by everything about it - meant that she had to feel something for him, right? Not in a romantic sense, he didn't believe that, but in the fact that he was more than just a passing acquaintance. A comrade. Company. Friend. the word was foreign to him.
He was not just another person. She at least cared about him. Jasper had forgotten this warmth that had came with friends, for it had been a long time since he had been one of such things; a friend. The last one he had had been shunned by his parents. Or rather, his father in particular. Squib! He is but a disgrace! The poor boy had been chased out of the house with his father's cane, and out of Jasper's life with not much as a trace left. He had been five when that had happened. He was sixteen now. Eleven years was a long, long time. Perhaps that was why he hadn't actually opened up his heart to anyone. A friendly bloke, he definitely was, but he wasn't sincere about anything. The walls had been put up. Thinner than most, but definitely still there. The incident at seven had caused it to be solidified with a layer of cement, if only to prevent furthur hurt. A silly method, but it worked.
Working up the courage to speak when she was done, Jasper found that he had to work up more courage to put into action the plan he had formulated in his head. A tentative step forward, Jasper put his hands on her shoulders firmly, so that she simply could not shake off his hold. "Ashlan. Look at me," he asked softly, a request, if nothing else. A sigh, before he decided that he would rectify this situation. He would indeed, because he didn't want to lose her company. She wasn't as judgmental as others, she was unique in her own way. And he liked her company, very much so. "Ashlan," he repeated, her name familiar on his tongue having said it many a time before. Deciding to lower his volume, he closed his eyes, exhaling. And spoke.
"I have a weak heart. And I do not mean a defect. No, I mean a weak heart. It has supported me until now, and possibly for a few more years. But I am a miracle as I stand here before you. They expected me to die at eleven - I wasn't going to any Wizarding school. Mother thought that. I'm sixteen, and I'm still alive. That is a miracle, in a sense." He didn't break his gaze, pressing on, "That is my problem. That is the reason why Marshall Alexeich Pavlovsky, my brother who is two years younger than me, is the true heir to the Pavlovsky family. He does not know, simply because no one has told him. But my father had made it in his will that I am the second heir, despite the fact that I am indeed a male and the first born of the family. I will not succeed the title of the family. I am the one that is not important."
He swallowed thickly, before continuing, "I came to Hogwarts, seeking to go away from this obvious prejudice that my family gives me. No one loves me there. I am the kid that stains the Pavlovsky bloodline. They do not believe I should live, but to kill me would cause a scandal. Love, you ask? I have never experienced that from my father. At least, not that I can remember. I was deduced of this defect when I was two. I remember nothing but my father's strict ruling that he only practiced with me, and my grandparent's scorn. Only my Mother cared for me, and did Marshall, but that is unconditional love. Unconditional does not mean I earned it. It just means I had it in the first place." He blinked once, twice. His tone was pained. One couldn't help it when recounting such events, after all.
"What I think of you?" he finally shifted the topic, away from his problem. It was a main concern she had addressed. And he was determined to answer it. Anything she asked. "You are a friend. I do not seek to make you feel uncomfortable - my apologies for doing that. I care about you. More than the average person, because I regard you as my friend. You do things for me most people wouldn't bother to." He licked his lips, shook his head to flip the blond hair out of his eyes. "And I most certainly appreciated your concern. It was... something foreign. To receive such concern other than from my mother. I do not make fun of you - but you seem so reluctant to bear my touch, I didn't think you'd want to touch me. Holding this cloth-" he said, referencing to the cloth that was now on the ground, "-was so that you need not touch me. I thought wrong."
"And for that, I am... sorry."
-- It's from another site, if that's alright.
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OFF IN THE NIGHT ,
[/font]OFF IN THE NIGHT ,
while you live it up
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This template was made by Cate aka Girl Talkk
of Caution Bby!. Lyrics ("Use Somebody" Kings of Leon.
of Caution Bby!. Lyrics ("Use Somebody" Kings of Leon.
