Post by ALICE AURE PREWETT. on Jul 16, 2011 2:05:16 GMT -5
ALICE AURE PREWETT
who says - who says you're not perfect? who says you're
not worth it? who says you're the only one that's hurting?
basics . basics . basics . basics . basics . basics .[/COLOR][/FONT][/I]
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full name, alice aure prewett
nicknames, dimples, pipsqueak, squirt, prewett, blood traitor - she'll respond to anything, really.
age, fifteen
birthday, june fourth
house, gryffindor
wand, ten and three quarters inches, willow wood, unicorn tail hair core
martial status, single, and not exactly looking
sexuality, heteAlicexual
blood-status, pureblood, but classified as a 'blood-traitor' by many other pureblood families
made-up or canon, canon
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deep . deep . deep . deep . deep . deep .
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likes,
dislikes,
strengths,
weaknesses,
fears,
mirror of erised,
boggart,
amortenia,
dementor,
patronus,
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face . face . face . face. face . face.
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hair,
eyes,
facial structure,
build and body,
anything else,
feelings,
face claim, karen gillan
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roots . roots . roots . roots . roots . roots .
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father, marcus prewett, thirty nine, deceased, gryffindor
mother, isolde prewett, thirty nine, deceased, gryffindor
siblings, n/a
other figures, her father's brother, and his wife, with whom she lives; their sons - her cousins gideon and fabian; and, through many twisted chains of mariages and disownages and second cousins twice removed, she's related to the blacks, mcmillans, crabbes, flints, bulstrodes, potters, burkes, Alicers, lestranges, yaxleys, crouchs, and malfoys.
ethnicity,
history,
After her parents passed away, however, she was taken under the wing of her father's brother and his family. Her uncle was very kindhearted and generous and welcomed her with open arms, but it just wasn't the same. It would never be the same. Eventually, her cousins brought her out of her numbness, and she moved on. She didn't forget her parents, no, but she used them as inspiration. They would live on forever in her heart, and she would end this war, no matter what it took.
From then on, Alice's childhood was a happy one, with her parents and brothers, with whom she grew very close. She loved having her family with her at all times, whenver she needed them and even when she didn't. She grew up with a sort of fondness for being surrounded by people, influencing her personality as she grew up, for there was a great variety of personality traits around her. Her parents were both caring and kind, warm and sincere in all their actions, and from them she inherited that as well as a love of learning and book-smarts. Her brothers were jovial and caring, clever and kind, impassive yet warm. Alice was often told that, being the youngest, she was a combination of all of them; somewhat bright and very amiable, cheery and whimsical, and also that she picked up characteristics of her own; sheepish and adamant, yet somehow naive and emotional, vulnerable in her deep emotions and insecure. She was just a big mess of things, a small creature easily influenced and picking up traits from everyone she met. A big jumble of things, complicated and complex. She ccan still remember wishing that she were more simple, less complicated, that she would be like everyone else and wouldn't stand out with her bright red hair and freckly pale skin. She was just too different, and from a young age, she started to resent that.
Despite her secret acrimony to these things, her childhood from her adoption on was a happy one. The family of five was close knit, and would often spend time with relatives and family friends, go on picnics and walks and such. One of Alice's favorite family gatherings, however, was always Quidditch games. She started to love Quidditch at an early age, particularly because her aunt and uncle had both played. From a young age, her cousins would play a sort of downgraded version of Quidditch with her, and she received her first broom - a Junior Cleansweep - at the age of eleven. Playing with her cousins was always fun, although they were always closer to each other than they were to her, probably because she was a girl and the youngest in her family, and they might have seen that as a reason to keep her protected and sheltered.
The summer of her eleventh birthday, she received her Hogwarts letter. That August, the family found themselves in Diagon Alley, where Alice received her first pet, a small pygmy owl with russet feathers and amber eyes. She was originally drawn to it because of its small size and adorable-looking stature, but she soon grew to love it for more than just appearances. She named him Adelais.
And the following September, little Alice was off on the Hogwarts express, accompanied by both cousins.
Once the first years had sailed across the lake during a thunder storm (through which Alice had cowered in the boat for most of the time) and had arrived in the castle, soaking wet and dripping on the floors, they were assembled outside of the doors to the Great Hall and lined up in alphabetical order, before proceeding into an enormous room in which at least three hundred people were seated. All eyes were on the first years, and little Alice Prewett, with her bright red hair, felt herself shrinking into the crowd, keeping her head low and trying to blend in. Her anxiety only grew as names started to be called, and one by one the eleven-year-olds were seated on a stool with the Sorting Hat placed on their heads. Finally, the name Prewett, Alice Aure rang out, and Alice scampered to the stool and sat down, as the hat was put on her head. It was big enough that it slipped right over her eyes and ears, stopping at her nose. Alice was frightened, to put it lightly, as the hat sat there, debating with itself whether she should go into Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, and the few moments she had to sit there felt like they lasted forever. Just the thought that this hat could hear all her thoughts was scary enough - anyone would be frightened with all that magic on their heads. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, the small girl was sorted into Gryffindor. She hurried off the stool as soon as "Gryffindor!" was cried out and hastily placed the hat back on the stool before running toward the table. Just her luck, though, Alice tripped on her way off the stool and fell flat on her face. For the rest of her time at Hogwarts, none of the students would let that down, and most labeled her as a klutz from that moment.
Hogwarts was as great as she had expected, Alice soon found out; she just had to learn how to keep her curiosity in check and not go wandering off. In her second year, she made it onto the Quidditch team as a chaser, but in third year, during a match in a thunderstorm, the wind blew Alice off her broom stick. The hundred foot plunge onto the ground left her in the hospital wing for a week, and she's been scared of heights since. And these days, Alice is often thinking about her future, her ambitions, where she'll be in five years. she was told back in third year upon taking divination that she was a "dreamer," getting caught up in life's thoughts and philosophies, and now, more than ever, that seems true. She's studying hard in school, getting marks near the top of her class, and working toward her dream of becoming an auror to help her parents' legacy live on. For now, however, she'd just like to live her life and take one day at a time, never knowing what the future holds for her. [/ul]
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you . you . you . you . you . you .
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alias, pinky
gender, female
age, eighteen
experience, years and years and years.
other characters, just alice for now!
contact, pm or email works, but aim and msn do too. :3
sample,
The wind was a soft, tender whisper through the night, brushing the young girl's cheek softly in passing. It came from the south, where the river lay, undisturbed in the darkness of the night, and went towards the north, toward which the small girl faced at the moment. Her dark hair blew lightly in the wind, the darkness bringing out its amethyst tints, and she raised a hand to push the strands back, only for them to be blown back onto her face. Bright violet eyes grazed over the layout of land that lay so peacefully below her, passing over each of the headstones the jutted out of the land in arranged order -- rows and rows of headstones beneath which hundreds, or perhaps thousands, of motionless bodies lay, with their unseeing eyes and still hands. So many beings gathered in this one spot... yet, none of them would ever again see day.
It was curious how Alice had picked this particular night to visit the cemetery. It was far from a perfect night -- sure, there were stars glittering high in the sky with a sparkling radiance, curled in ribbons around the bright sliver of the waning crescent that was the moon. The breeze was neither strong nor cold, but carried a certain touch of potential energy, as if something great would happen on this night -- as if it needed to prepare itself. The sky itself was a dark curtain of velvety black, stars littered across its surface. Yet, everything was far from perfect, for the natural beauty of the night was hidden behind haze of clouds, and a mist had settled around the surface of the cemetery, causing the passing light of the moon to bathe everything in an eerie glowing light. So, why was it that the young girl had chosen such a creepy night to visit a place so depressing?
Even she herself knew not.
The night was calm, the quiet stillness and silence enveloping the vicinity of soul-less bodies, not with a serene sense of security, but with a smothering restlessnes -- as if something were going to happen, and the late night fog had done the perfect job of setting the scene. The moon and stars allowed just enough light for Alice to see where she was going, but more would have been appreciated. And, despite the spectral quality of the night, it was a rare night -- rare because the light pollution from the nearby city of Tokyo didn't disturb the darkness of the night with its hazy fumes. No, the mist and clouds did that job just fine without help from the light pollution.
So, on a night so macabre, why would a small girl who usually disliked the night go to visit the cemetery on such a night? There was no reason for it: she had never known anyone who was now deceased -- well, anyone whom she had actually known. But maybe she had just felt the need to, or maybe she just needed to get out of the house, and this was the first place she went to.
Even if it was an eerie night full of potential horrors, and even if Alice hadn't ever known her mother before she had passed away, she left her spot at the top of the hill on whose side the tombstones were placed, and traveled down the rows, picking up a small petunia that had struggled to grow between some bushes. Her mid-calf length pink boots made a small tap with each step she took, and the wind rustled the many gossamer layers of the white knee-length skirt she wore, until she finally stopped in front of one particular headstone -- one on which the name of her mother was inscribed.
Alice knelt, placed the yellow flower in front of the headstone, and read the words that were engraved into it. They were words that she had read so many times that she had probably had them memorized by now. She had never personally known her mother, but now that she was gone, there was nothing Alice could do about that, except honor her with a small petunia. Just a small flower for the life that that woman had given Alice -- it seemed like a terribly selfish trade to Alice. But, there was just nothing more she could do. Perhaps leaving the house in the dead of the night on a particularly eerie night would count for something.
Speaking of particularly eerie, just as the small Kurosaki girl stood up to leave, a cacophony of screams split through the air, and Alice tensed, spinning around to face the direction from which it had come. Heart pounding in her throat, the small girl spun towards where it had come from and started running in that direction, acting purely on impulse, for there was nothing she could possible do were she to find some sort of monster there. Her curiosity only grew when a group of kids around her age ran from that direction, expressions of fear on their face, and along with it, Alice's own fear grew. But she wasn't thinking, so she wasn't exactly aware of it at the moment.
She had reached the top of the hill by the time she stopped to catch her breath, but by then, the sound of the screams were far behind her, newly replaced by the caws of a flock of black birds leaving the area; Alice shielded herself against them as they flew into the direction from which she had come, raising her forearms against their flurry of ebony feathers. And when they cleared up, the only thing left in their wake was a boy, sitting on the ground, staring at spot from which they had come. Alice didn't know what she was doing as she walked over to him and held out a small hand to help him up -- for all she knew, he could have been the monster that had caused the previous clamor of shrieks and retreating ravens. But she wasn't one of judge, so, with her hand outstretched to him, she asked in a quiet voice, afraid of disturbing the sudden stillness of the night, "Are you all right?"
It was curious how Alice had picked this particular night to visit the cemetery. It was far from a perfect night -- sure, there were stars glittering high in the sky with a sparkling radiance, curled in ribbons around the bright sliver of the waning crescent that was the moon. The breeze was neither strong nor cold, but carried a certain touch of potential energy, as if something great would happen on this night -- as if it needed to prepare itself. The sky itself was a dark curtain of velvety black, stars littered across its surface. Yet, everything was far from perfect, for the natural beauty of the night was hidden behind haze of clouds, and a mist had settled around the surface of the cemetery, causing the passing light of the moon to bathe everything in an eerie glowing light. So, why was it that the young girl had chosen such a creepy night to visit a place so depressing?
Even she herself knew not.
The night was calm, the quiet stillness and silence enveloping the vicinity of soul-less bodies, not with a serene sense of security, but with a smothering restlessnes -- as if something were going to happen, and the late night fog had done the perfect job of setting the scene. The moon and stars allowed just enough light for Alice to see where she was going, but more would have been appreciated. And, despite the spectral quality of the night, it was a rare night -- rare because the light pollution from the nearby city of Tokyo didn't disturb the darkness of the night with its hazy fumes. No, the mist and clouds did that job just fine without help from the light pollution.
So, on a night so macabre, why would a small girl who usually disliked the night go to visit the cemetery on such a night? There was no reason for it: she had never known anyone who was now deceased -- well, anyone whom she had actually known. But maybe she had just felt the need to, or maybe she just needed to get out of the house, and this was the first place she went to.
Even if it was an eerie night full of potential horrors, and even if Alice hadn't ever known her mother before she had passed away, she left her spot at the top of the hill on whose side the tombstones were placed, and traveled down the rows, picking up a small petunia that had struggled to grow between some bushes. Her mid-calf length pink boots made a small tap with each step she took, and the wind rustled the many gossamer layers of the white knee-length skirt she wore, until she finally stopped in front of one particular headstone -- one on which the name of her mother was inscribed.
Alice knelt, placed the yellow flower in front of the headstone, and read the words that were engraved into it. They were words that she had read so many times that she had probably had them memorized by now. She had never personally known her mother, but now that she was gone, there was nothing Alice could do about that, except honor her with a small petunia. Just a small flower for the life that that woman had given Alice -- it seemed like a terribly selfish trade to Alice. But, there was just nothing more she could do. Perhaps leaving the house in the dead of the night on a particularly eerie night would count for something.
Speaking of particularly eerie, just as the small Kurosaki girl stood up to leave, a cacophony of screams split through the air, and Alice tensed, spinning around to face the direction from which it had come. Heart pounding in her throat, the small girl spun towards where it had come from and started running in that direction, acting purely on impulse, for there was nothing she could possible do were she to find some sort of monster there. Her curiosity only grew when a group of kids around her age ran from that direction, expressions of fear on their face, and along with it, Alice's own fear grew. But she wasn't thinking, so she wasn't exactly aware of it at the moment.
She had reached the top of the hill by the time she stopped to catch her breath, but by then, the sound of the screams were far behind her, newly replaced by the caws of a flock of black birds leaving the area; Alice shielded herself against them as they flew into the direction from which she had come, raising her forearms against their flurry of ebony feathers. And when they cleared up, the only thing left in their wake was a boy, sitting on the ground, staring at spot from which they had come. Alice didn't know what she was doing as she walked over to him and held out a small hand to help him up -- for all she knew, he could have been the monster that had caused the previous clamor of shrieks and retreating ravens. But she wasn't one of judge, so, with her hand outstretched to him, she asked in a quiet voice, afraid of disturbing the sudden stillness of the night, "Are you all right?"
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