Post by lucy jane weasley on Aug 6, 2013 17:01:36 GMT -7
LUCY jane WEASLEY
I swear, I'd burn down this city to show you the light.
I swear, I'd burn down this city to show you the light.
GENERAL INFORMATION
Name: lucy jane weasley
Age: fifteen
Birthday: april fourth
Year: fifth
House: gryffindor
Blood Type: a+
Orientation: straight
Blood Status: half-blood
APPEARANCE
Play-By: emma stone
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 119 lbs.
Hair Colour: red
Eye Colour: blue
Skin Colour: pale
Distinguishing Features: n/a
Dressing Style: Lucy isn't very picky with what she wears. She's rather casual, usually just wearing a button up or plain t-shirt and jeans or shorts. She's strongly against skirts and dresses, thanks to being dressed up quite a lot when she was younger. She sports Muggle clothes quite often, and occasionally she'll wear a nicer blouse or flow-y shirt, but when she can't be bothered she'll hardly remember to change out of her pajamas.
PERSONALITY
Personality Description: Lucy inherited many traits from both her parents- it's hard to say which she's more like. Her brain is nearly equal to that of her mother's when she was Lucy's age. She's rather studious and very intelligent, but there's no doubt she's gotten her father's pride and temper. It comes with being a Weasley, you know.
Lucy is impatient but tolerant. She can be rather empathetic at times. She's got a sharp tongue that she hasn't quite learned how to hold yet, and she gets herself into fights pretty often. Lucy is sarcastic and snarky, a bit cynical and even a tad judgmental. She's stubborn as a mule, and she won't pass up an opportunity to out-do somebody.
Likes: Quidditch, muggle culture, books, learning, most all of her classes, her family, showing off.
Dislikes: feeling inferior, being stuck inside the castle, prejudice purebloods, people comparing her to her mother/father, isolation, being rejected, Divination, Art in Magic.
Strengths: Quidditch, Charms, DADA, Transfiguration, puzzles,arguingdebating, dueling.
Weaknesses: Divination, Herbology, temperamental, impatient, easily bored, stubborn, sarcastic, blunt.
MAGICAL WORLD
Wand Wood: Mahogany
Wand Core: thestral tail hair
Wand Length: 7.3"
Pet(s): An owl, Hermes, and her mother's aging cat, Crookshanks.
Desired Position:
BACKGROUND
Mother: Hermione Weasley (nee Granger)
Father: Ron Weasley
Sibling(s): younger sister, younger brother
Other Important Family: Tons of family members, in and out of Hogwarts. Lots of cousins, many aunts and uncles and grandparents. Family ties in the Potters and the Delacours, and many other families.
History: Lucy was born to two halves of the famous Golden Trio. Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, and the ever so lovable Ron Weasley. You could imagine how hectic their household was... Though her mother tried desperately to keep everything orderly, books could be found strewn across every room in the house, along with children's toys, clothes, discarded trash and nieces and nephews running around wildly, of course.
There was never anything to complain about. Her father, an Auror, was her best friend for most of her childhood. Being the first born, she was naturally a bit spoiled, and loved the attention she received from her parents - the attention received from fans of the Golden Trio and people comparing her with her mother and father, not so much. But with her two younger twin siblings following along behind her by just two years, Lucy was easily able to fade into the background as best as she could.
At Hogwarts, and even now, she still hears professors commenting on how remarkably similar her intelligence is to her mothers, and how her pride and temper rival that of her dear fathers. She slowly learned how to get over it all, although it still nags at her a bit every time someone says she has her daddy's heart and her mummy's mind.
MUGGLE WORLD
Alias: Willa
RP Experience: A little over two months.
RP Sample: -This is a rather old piece from a different board. Hope that's alright!-
"Just think about it, Emmeline. This year and the next at Hogwarts, then you're off to do whatever you want with your life." She could barely hear the wispy voice of her grandfather over the roar of the platform. She hardly managed to make out the words of the old man, as he stared straight ahead at the maroon train, a distant look on his face. He tended to get like this, every departure. It was always strange when he began to mumble about this or that, making no sense at all, but the young witch had grown used to it over the years. He would never tell her, but she knew he was thinking back to his years at the school. He always loved to daydream about it, her grandfather. From what he did tell her, it was much simpler back then, better than what it was now, with all the prejudicial people running about, slinging mud and acting like toddlers.
Emmie shook the thoughts away and smiled softly as she focused on her grandfather, her green eyes resting on the white haired man. How long ago was it? He was what, earlier seventies now? Nearly sixty one years ago, she thought, was when he was boarding the train to Hogwarts. He had to miss it, she was certain. The old wizard used to have so many friends, when he was younger. She had met most of them after she had moved in with him, when she was almost six. But things had changed in the last ten years - her grandmother had passed away, along with many of her grandfathers friends. Old age was striking too early for her liking, and although she was excited about the year, she hated to leave him behind for fear that Death would make him his next target.
The shriek of the train's whistle pushed her into action. She tore her eyes away from his happy, dreamy expression and checked to make sure she had all of her trunks - clothes, Quidditch equipment, robes and textbooks. It was all there, settled in a neat pyramid with her owl, Apollo, sitting at the top of it all. The owl cooed sleepily, it's orange eyes dragging around the Platform, watching people walk by with little interest. She ran a hand across his head with a chuckle and tossed a couple of food pellets into his bowl.
Emmie turned around, her boots clunking against the ground as she approached the old man in his colorful robes. She gently tapped his shoulder, a small smile on her lips. "Grandpa.. I've got everything I need. We arrived pretty early, and I won't be able to board the train for awhile." She said softly, gesturing towards the large clock opposite of them on the Platform. Its black hands ticked away the seconds slowly - it read ten o'clock. The express would leave at exactly eleven. "You don't have to stay, I can wait by myself." She said, knowing that the old man would stand here until he dropped if she didn't urge him to go. He was as stubborn as a mule, but she really couldn't say much about it. She had gotten her own hard-head from him, after all.
Her grandfather turned slowly, reluctant to take his blue eyes away from the train. Even though she had been getting steadily taller, and him steadily shorter in his old age, Otto Hathaway still towered over the young witch. He looked at her from over his block-y glasses, nodding a bit and mumbling quietly. "Yes, yes. Alright."
Emmie wrapped her arms around him. "I'll be good, and I'll write. Everyday. You've got to be good as well, alright, Grandpa?" She joked, giving him a playfully stern look. He nodded once again. "Of course. Always am. Y'coming home for Christmas?" Emmie grinned. "Yes, I am. You take care of yourself until then, okay?" He smiled a bit and mumbled an alright, stepping away as a young first year narrowly rammed into the pair with his trolley. The grandfather and granddaughter finished up their goodbyes, then with a soft pop, he disappeared in a flash.
Emmie sighed and ran a hair through her choppy, short hair after he had left. The platform was growing louder and louder, signaling the arrival of more students. It was rather early for families to already be arriving, she thought as she seated herself on the edge of her pyramid of belongings. Another thirty minutes until eleven wasn't usually when everyone began to arrive. She hummed under her breath, and her fingernails, painted red and gold to spite her Slytherin housemates, tapped against her black jeans in an unsteady pattern. Her mind was focused on the year to come.
It would be her third year on the Quidditch team, she thought happily. She knew she was quite a good Seeker, and the game was what she loved. She had spent years swearing that she'd be a professional player someday, but her mindset had changed over her five terms of schooling. Now Emmie was more determined to become an Auror, if anything. Her mother and father had both been, before their deaths at the hands of a werewolf. Her grandpa had been one as well, when he was younger of course. Now he ran a humble little tea shop in Muggle London, with a flat where he and Emmie lived right above it. He claimed his old, creaky bones were too fragile for hunting dark wizards nowadays. And there was a particular professor at school who worked closely with the Ministry. He was a young Auror as well, but had taken up teaching at Hogwarts for a few years. All through her fourth and fifth term, Emmie had been desperately trying to impress him and learn everything she could about the job - he was her ticket to getting a head start, she believed.
The Hogwarts Express whistled once again, pulling Emmie out of deep thought. She jumped to her feet, Apollo hooting unhappily as she had upset the tower of trunks. She ignored him, swiveling around to look at the clock. Three minutes until eleven. "Merlin," She gasped, hurrying to grab the handle of her trunks and tucking the owl cage in between her arms. She carefully boarded the train, ducking and weaving and pushing her way through the thick crowd. All of the convenient compartments were of course filled up, so she was forced to shuffle her way to the back of the train. Finally, she came across one with only two people in it. Her mind didn't register who they were, and before she could think about it, Emmie set her things down at her feet and slid the door open.
The relieved expression on her face crumbled as her gaze fell on the two twins. They were easy to recognize, being in her year and house and all. Well, that, and the two were infamous around the school for being terrible.
Emmie blinked, surprised. She said nothing and continued to stand in the open doorway, her pale lips parting and her hands moving to fidget with the Muggle t-shirt she wore. A band was printed on the front of the black piece, staring out at the twins with a much different expression than the one Emmie wore. Her already big, buggish eyes were wide, and her freckled face donned a shocked expression.
It wasn't fear, certainly - Emmie had personally never encountered any of the twins supposed cruelness, so she found nothing to be afraid of. She'd never really even noticed them before. They went on with their business, and she went on with hers. She wasn't exactly sure why she was so surprised at seeing the two.. they had to sit somewhere, after all. Emmie swayed on her feet a bit, her head turning to look down at her things.
There was no way she was going to keep carrying all that junk, looking for a compartment. She quickly fixed herself - closed her open mouth, and took on a calmer look as she picked up her things and entered the cabin. "Hey." She said simply, glancing at the two in turn. "I'd hate to bother you, but there's no way in hell I'm going to keep carrying all this crap around." She said lightly with a meek grin, gesturing towards her things. With a lot of difficulty, she lifted one of her trunks up towards the overhead rack. Her height proved to play against her once again, and she barely managed to catch the corner of the trunk on the edge of the shelf. She pushed up onto her tiptoes, the palm of her hand supporting the end of the suitcase as she tried to shove it further up onto the rack.
