Post by tyson on Jun 3, 2009 12:56:44 GMT 1
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I BEEN ROAMIN' AROUND ,
always lookin' down at all i see
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TYSON SETH FINCH-FLETCHLEY[/center]
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PAINTED FACES FILL ,
[/font]PAINTED FACES FILL ,
the spaces i can't reach
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NICKNAMES: "Hm. Not much you can do with Tyson. I get 'Ty' now and again."
AGE: "I was eighteen on the first of January."
YEAR: "Nah, I left Hogwarts last year."
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: "I like guys. But, I don't tell everyone. So, you know, don't spread it, okay?"
D.O.B.: "The first of January, two-thousand and four. Which, in short, makes my birthday more amazing than yours."
HOUSE/FORMER HOUSE: "I was a good old Ravenclaw."
ALLEGIANCE: "I'm an Order Me - Uh, I'm an Order Supporter. Yeah. Okay, you got me. I'm a member."
PROFESSION: "I'm an assistant to the Head of Magical Co-Operations."
WAND TYPE: "My wand is made of Oak, with a dragon heartstrings core. A Swedish Short-Snout to be precise. I guess it's pretty rigid, and it's bit of a show off when it comes to defensive spells."
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YOU KNOW THAT I ,
[/font]YOU KNOW THAT I ,
could use somebody
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EYE COLOUR: "Now, my eyes are a little something I stole from my mother. Not literally, of course. But you knew that. I've inherited her blue-ish black-ish brown-ish tinted eyes. Yes, far more interesting that my hair colour. But that's my dad for you..."
HEIGHT: "I'm a little over six feet. But I'm still growing. Last year, I was almost six, but last time I checked I was almost six-one. Probably taller than that now... nice and conspicuous."
WEIGHT: "Around one-hundred and fifty-five. Isn't it a little rude to ask someone their weight?"
BODY TYPE: "I guess you could say I was an 'inbetween' type of fellow. Not exactly a blimp, but not a 'skinny' either. I have a little muscle, and I'm in shape, but I don't want to sound big headed by saying I'm athletic-looking. Oh. Too late..."
VOICE: "I come from Buckinghamshire. Need I say more... Ugh. Fine. Well, I'm not well off by any means. But I did go to a good prepatroy school before Hogwarts, my dad wouldn't budge on that one. Plus, my family are hell-bent on the Queen's English. I didn't stand a chance, accent wise. So if you think my accent is 'snobby', so be it. My voice in itself is deep, I guess. Not 'gruff' deep. Just... deep."
PERSONAL STYLE: "If it's not remotely fashionable, then it won't be on my back. Simple enough, really. It doesn't have to be expensive, it doesn't have to be hand-made-hand-pressed-stud-covered-massaged-rainbow-dipped material. If it looks nice, and it's comfortable, I'll wear it."
GENERAL DESCRIPTION: "I'm not exactly a god in terms of aesthetics, but I wouldn't say I was ugly, by any means. I know that I, along with my sister, have inherited some of my parents better qualities, something that I'm rather proud of. But when you're given raw material, you're supposed to work with it. And that's exactly what I do. I look after my skin, which is tan enough (I'm not orange, like a few of the people I know), I look after my hair, and I loko after my body. If you can do that, you shouldn't have any problems, looks-wise. Okay, scratch the last. My line of work, along with my 'spare time activities' tend to keep me in shape. Especially the later. Plus, being a vegan and all, I don't really eat anything that could be deemed unhealthy. Anyway... I think I've talked about my self for long enough... don't you?"
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AND ALL YOU KNOW ,
[/font]AND ALL YOU KNOW ,
and how you speak
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-- WAND-WORK, DUELING AND THE ORDER
-- MUGGLE CLOTHING, FLASHY ROBES AND CUFFS
-- MEN, ALCOHOL AND BED-SPRINGS
-- ADRENALINE, TAKING RISKS AND RESEARCHING
-- GERMAN, CO-OPERATION AND TEAM WORK
CHARACTER DISLIKES:
-- ARGUING, HARASSMENT AND EMBARRASSING SITUATIONS.
-- LOSING, RUNNING-UP AND DRAWING.
-- MUSKS, MOTH-EATEN AND MALICIOUS SMELLS
-- PRESSURE, PARENTS AND PARTY-KILLERS
GOALS:
-- TO RISE THROUGH MINISTRY RANKS
-- MAKE THE MOST OF HIS YOUTH
-- PROVE HIS LOYALTY
-- STRENGTHEN WIZARDING COMMUNICATION
-- MEET SOMEONE...
BOGGART: Although it isn't his largest fear, Tyson's boggart usually takes on the form of a merman, reflecting his childhood hatred and fear of the Hogwart's lake. Rarely, though it has happened, it takes the form of a Grindylow, a more primal version of his fear.
PATRONUS: The day that he received his Hogwart's letter is one of the many memories that Tyson holds close to his heart. He distinctly remembers waiting and waiting and waiting for his letter, his father allowing him to stew without informing him that it would not arrive until his eleventh birthday. When it did finally arrive, tears came. Entirely ready and painfully excited, the stories that his parents had told him span around the young boys head once that letter was finally open. His patronus takes the form of a large Caracal, with extremely fluffy and pointy ears.
DEMENTOR: Tyson is deathly afraid of masses of water. Although he isn't too keen on it, rain and other flowing liquids are fine, but the very mention of the lake or any body of water sends him breaking out in a cold sweat. His fear stems from an unfortunate accident involving himself and his older sibling accompanying his father to the lake near his home. After deciding to wander around a litter of trees the young Tyson found himself closer and closer to the waters edge. His father called him, and, turning toward the voice, he slipped beneath the murky surface. His father pulled him out of course, spluttering and covered in weed and dirt. He hadn't cried then, but had simply sat in fear of the water, pale and still. His parents had not made a big deal of this small but thoroughly disturbing moment in his life, but it haunts him still.
AMORENTIA: New parchment, dusty books, strawberries and cologne.
BASIC PERSONALITY: AMICABLE, ABSTRACT, COMPLICATED, SENSITIVE, SENTIMENTAL, ENERGIZED, SELF-RELIANT, WORRIER, OPINIONATED AND TEMPERED.
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COUNTLESS LOVERS ,
[/font]COUNTLESS LOVERS ,
under cover of the streets
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MOTHER: Autumn Finch-Fletchley (née Moore).
BROTHER(S): --
SISTER(S): Nicole Goyle (née Finch-Fletchley).
OTHER: --
BLOOD STATUS: Half-Blood.
HOMETOWN: Buckinghamshire.
CURRENT RESIDENCE: 27 Bridge Street, Milton K., Buckinghamshire.
BIOGRAPHY: When compared to the many stories told to him by his parents, times of war and of darkness, Tyson can't help but feel that his own life is rather boring and ever so slightly mediocre in comparison. Born into a wizarding family of good wealth and of good nature, the most drama he has ever been ladened with is a bit of relationship trouble. Early life was carefree for the youngest Finch-Fletchley child, always up to mischief and throwing himself into the deep end of exploration. Even as a toddler he was always finding out new things about his family garden, or a certain cupboard, or one of the many books and photo albums that lined the drawing room. Never sitting still, his hunger for knowledge always bordering emaciation, his mother was forever sitting him on her lap before explaining all the dangers that he'd have to watch out for. "When mom says 'no', that means no!" being one of her key phrases as Tyson grew up, such a phrase was always joined by a hug or a tickle under the ribs. Affection was one thing that Tyson was always showered with.
His older sister, though a source of jealousy as Tyson grew, always seemed a step behind him to make sure he never fell, never got into too much trouble or took on more than he could handle. But once she left for Hogwarts, Tyson was, naturally, left with a small hole that he was unable to fill. This faded with time, as his sisters visits home grew a little colder for Tyson. Suddenly, the age gap between them was unbridgable - something that the young Tyson had not seen coming.
He recieved his own letter, something which evoked a most memorable amount of emotion in the eleven year old. Somewhere in the back of his mind, something echoed "you're finally going to be as great as Nicole." However, Tyson's first years at Hogwarts were not as he had expected them. He found the work difficult, excelling greatly in only Defense Against the Dark Arts. Finally, with extra help from his parents, and surprisingly, Nicole, he recieved enough OWLs to take an Auror's choice of NEWTs. Once again, hard work prevailed and the world of dark-wizard catching lay before him. But something clicked insid the seventeen year old - it was communication and language that was the under-dog of the rising dark powers. Using his long-learned German language skills to create bonds with the Mgical Co-Operation secotr of the Ministry, only a month after his eighteenth birrthday, Tyson entered the world of the Order of the Phoenix and Magical Co-Operation simultaniously.
Now settled and ready for his future, though a little lonely - young and away from his family, Tyson is finally finding his feet in thye world he wants to help change for the better.
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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: almost three years!
HOW YOU FOUND US: an ad over at SHATTERED.
OTHER CHARACTERS: --
RP SAMPLE:
The only thing that seemed plausible enough to be of importance in Benjamin's brain was alcohol. He wasn't a heavy drinker exactly, but when it came down to the raw material of it, he did need one or two after a hard day. Drink was cheap and easy to obtain, and in his current financial position it was the simplest form of recreation. It was alcohol, or drugs, and the later had never held any appeal for Ben. A little tipsy did him little harm, but he wasn't going to rot his brain and lungs by taking up anything heavier. It took him a matter of seconds to order a drink, as he was doing, and a matter of seconds to decide when enough was enough. With drugs, there was no telling when he'd stop. He wouldn't be in control, and control was and always had been a stabilizing nutrient in the young male's psychological diet.
Glass in hand, he twisted his body back towards the door, his lower back pressing against the bar. His eyes scoped out the crowds, the groups, for any faces that he knew, or any faces that he'd want to know. He didn't see any. It was then that he decided it was going to be a lonely night, of short duration. If he got wrecked alone, he'd cry, whether it be with laughter at something that was far from funny, or fro solitude. It didn't matter, he wouldn't remember it if he did. A headache and slack concentration would be the only traces of his prior night if he allowed it. By the time he'd finished his overview and mental cataloging, the glass that he held to his lips was almost empty. His wallet was light as of late, so he'd have to slow down. You're going to need a few more after this. he reminded, counting out the change he'd received before adding it to the money he had in his wallet. The sum was the same, considering the fact that his wallet was empty.
It was strange how his thoughts had been trained on money, and at the same moment, one of the bouncers had offered him a note in regards to the man he was walking towards. Almost like said male had been reading his mind from his corner in the VIP area, searching him out as he had been familiar faces. Ben left a note for himself somewhere in his memory, reminding him to check out the VIP section next time he came to the club. Somehow he'd missed this face.
"You know -" he began as he sat beside the stranger, his voice edged with sarcasm and a tone that he reserved only for people of a certain level of attractiveness. "- I've had far better offers tonight. For a lot more money." The smile that he added afterward cleared any remnant of seriousness that his features may have held.
"Ben," he continued, his voice raising slightly. The music that spilled from the speakers around him seemed to be punching out further volume "I was wondering, what's the twenty for? Am I being hired for anything in-particular?"
Glass in hand, he twisted his body back towards the door, his lower back pressing against the bar. His eyes scoped out the crowds, the groups, for any faces that he knew, or any faces that he'd want to know. He didn't see any. It was then that he decided it was going to be a lonely night, of short duration. If he got wrecked alone, he'd cry, whether it be with laughter at something that was far from funny, or fro solitude. It didn't matter, he wouldn't remember it if he did. A headache and slack concentration would be the only traces of his prior night if he allowed it. By the time he'd finished his overview and mental cataloging, the glass that he held to his lips was almost empty. His wallet was light as of late, so he'd have to slow down. You're going to need a few more after this. he reminded, counting out the change he'd received before adding it to the money he had in his wallet. The sum was the same, considering the fact that his wallet was empty.
It was strange how his thoughts had been trained on money, and at the same moment, one of the bouncers had offered him a note in regards to the man he was walking towards. Almost like said male had been reading his mind from his corner in the VIP area, searching him out as he had been familiar faces. Ben left a note for himself somewhere in his memory, reminding him to check out the VIP section next time he came to the club. Somehow he'd missed this face.
"You know -" he began as he sat beside the stranger, his voice edged with sarcasm and a tone that he reserved only for people of a certain level of attractiveness. "- I've had far better offers tonight. For a lot more money." The smile that he added afterward cleared any remnant of seriousness that his features may have held.
"Ben," he continued, his voice raising slightly. The music that spilled from the speakers around him seemed to be punching out further volume "I was wondering, what's the twenty for? Am I being hired for anything in-particular?"
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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.
