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Post by Theodore Tonks on Sept 5, 2012 5:59:22 GMT -5
__________________________________________________________a b o u t . y o u ! Name: Spooky. Preferred Pronouns: Any of the female variety. There are also several others I would respond to, but as they're borne from the military, they're highly inappropriate. *cheekygrin* Age: IMMORTALITY IS MINE. 21 E-mail: sammarsh750@hotmail.com Twitter and/or Tumblr: N/A. Years of RPG Experience: Uh...somewhere around a decade. I think! Other: modified by staff
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q u i c k . q u i z ! How did you find us? Lyly dragged me here kicking and shrieking my innards ou-er, I mean, this place. It called meeee. You muppet.
What about ISS inspired you to join? I've never been confident enough to play in a Marauder's Era roleplay before, and frankly, I've had some horrible experiences in RP as of late that have shaken my confidence. Also, I'm military, which scares me because I might be absent some weeks. But you guys seem pretty darn nice, so I wanted to give it a go. I won't let you down, I promise. Also, I know the years have moved on recently, but I’m sort of unsure what to do, so I kept him as is. I’ll just fix him if I need to!
Do you have any suggestions for us? Not one. You guys are really in-depth with your Rules and what not. Also, since 2007? Holy crap. Keep at it - y'all are rockin'!
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a b o u t . t h e . c h a r a c t e r ! Name: Theodore "Ted" William Tonks. Date of Birth: 27th December, 1959. Gender: Male. Year: 7th. Face Claim: Charlie Hunnam.
Canon or Original? Canon.
Distinguishing Physical Features: The first thing one notices about Ted is his size. Honestly, he's not ridiculously tall - a nice, sound six foot two inches. And nor is he sizeable in that he's fat or any of the like; he's just...broad. Husky. Sturdy. Stocky. Whatever you want to call it, Ted is a young man of considerable breadth; he's all shoulders and long, strong limbs, and though he spent most of his formative years hilariously embarrassed by his body - broad shoulders, yes, but the rest of the body took some time to catch up - it's since begun to catch up so that he's just stocky all-round. Don't let it fool you, though - for a stout looking build, Ted's a surprisingly cuddly sort of guy. Strong, but not overtly hard or muscular. Not utter perfection, just...comfortable. Only, don't call him fat; he knows he's prone to chubbiness, but he doesn't like to be reminded of it.
Cliche as it might sound, Ted's most distinguishing feature, apart from his build, would probably be his eyes. Dirty blonde hair often curling and falling into them and habitually brushed away with great irritation, they are a dark, cobalt blue, dark enough to appear black in dimly lit environments and one swears, on occasion, capable of changing with his moods, though he'll brush such a notion off and claim it's simply his surroundings. Despite what he thinks, though, his eyes are the most distinguished and the dead giveaway feature on the young man; he could barely twitch a face muscle, and yet you'd still know what he's feeling, whether it's the dark stillness of hurt, the angry pitch of black fury, the smoke-blue of warm tenderness or the dancing cobalt of laughter.
That's not to say, though, that Ted is one for being expressionless. Even without his eyes, he is a rather freely-giving soul when it comes to expression. As such, it's worth noting that expressiveness. Particularly his smile - perhaps more so than his eyes when it comes to distinction is his smile. Ted practically seems to breathe smiles, be it a wide, playful grin or a slight smile of understanding or sad forgiveness, and combined with deep-set dimples in cheeks that have never quite lost their childish ruddiness, Ted's smiles can be telling and devestating indeed.
Otherwise, there's not much that Ted himself would claim to be particularly distinguishable about himself. As aforementioned, he's got himself dirty blonde hair - a recalcitrant mop that refuses to behave itself and has nearly faced a close shave more than once, and he's definitely got scars here and there, a mixture of rough play and who knows how many incidents where he's had an attack of the clumsies and paid for it dearly.
Wand Type: 15 inches; willow; unicorn hair; flexible; good with Charms and protective spells.
Patronus: Labrador (Canine); playful and friendly and kind of clumsy, but protective to the very last.
Boggart: Ted's Boggart, at the present time, takes the form of what one assumes is a Lethifold - utter, consuming, hopeless and suffocating darkness. Everything he fears, including what he could lose and what it could do to him if he does.
Personality:
Not the stereotypical Ravenclaw is perhaps the first thing that might come to mind when dealing with Ted Tonks. For a start, he lacks absolutely any of the pretentions one might expect of the House – because hey, every House has their stereotype – being of a surprisingly easy-going, down to earth disposition and on occasion, even a sweet nature. One might even refer to his outer personality as a calm, for it’s pretty certain that not a lot really bothers or upsets Ted, and if it does, it rarely does so for very long.
Though…calm doesn’t really fit him either. Calm implies stillness, tranquility, stoicism, and while Ted isn’t one to get his tail feathers ruffled, he’s certainly not the type to sit still and paste on a stoic face. In fact, one might say he’s entirely the opposite; he’s nearly always moving, even if it’s just a foot jiggling against his chair in class, and such fidgetiness is rivaled only by the expressive mobility of the young man’s face. Quite simply, he’s open. Not to the point where words and brains spill out without a second thought, but he’s just…there’s no pretention about him. No arrogance, no ego, no false starts. He’s the sort of guy that is rarely ever not approachable, which was likely a major contributor in allowing him to secure the spot of Head Boy. He’s simply practical and cheerfully pragmatic and comfortable with himself most days, and perhaps in time, he’ll make you feel comfortable with yourself too. Or at least with him.
That being said, Ted is not one to be underestimated in the brains department. He’s no genius, but he’s certainly not a pushover, either. He’s more than held his own during his school years with his grades, and despite his cheerful, quirky nature – or perhaps because of the down to earth appeal of it – he’s a young man with a surprising head of sense when it’s most needed. He’s an optimist without being a fool, a kind heart and a protective nature without being too easily manipulated. In fact, he has a surprising amount of intuition for someone his age, and though he never claims to know better than others, he’s got a knack for hitting the proverbial nail square on the head in a situation, though often without quite realising just how close to home he’s actually hit.
Ted is, if the aforementioned didn’t clue you in, not without his serious side, either. He can be surprisingly stubborn when he wants to be, and he’s fearless enough to stand toe to toe with most people when push comes to shove. He knows when to knuckle down even if he doesn’t like it, and he’s not blind to the reality of the world. It’s hard not to be, when you’re a Muggleborn in a world becoming increasingly more hostile to those of your particular blood. He’s also not immune to suffering the effects of negativity, either; he can get hurt, and when he does, he gets hurt deeply – possibly because for the most part, he tends to give his trust and loyalty in a way that is extremely deep-rooted and hard to shake, so if you do manage to shake it, you’ve obviously done something very wrong. He can also be aversely influenced if he’s around a negative mood or atmosphere for too long – you see, even his good nature has its limitations. So too is he somewhat prone to ignoring his own wants and desires if doing so makes someone else he’s fond of happy; he’s not a martyr, persay, but he certainly has his moments of self-sacrifice where it might not be necessary.
Seriousness and negativity aside, Ted is also blessed with a rather wicked sense of humour. It’s not malicious, far from it. But it’s certainly cheeky at times; his playful side goes hand in hand with his down to earth frankness and quirkiness. It’s very much a part of his charm, really, though at the same time, you’re liable to find his apparent lack of fear silly man absolutely infuriating should he choose to tease you. He’s the eldest of four, after all, with little sisters, and there’s no worse tease than a big brother. On the plus side, he might reserve such cheek unless he really knows you well, or just…really likes you. But still, he loves to laugh, loves to make people laugh, and at times, there’s a sense that he’s laughing at something about you even if he’s not actually doing so aloud.
As aforementioned, Ted is also quite protective. Again, probably another holdover from being the big brother to all girls, though it’s really just an extension of his true nature in general – that of the deeply loyal, loving young man willing to go through hell and hot coals for you if it comes down to it, even as he’d treat you with utmost gentleness. He’s willing to sacrifice anything about him, risk it all, even, if he has to. So long as it keeps what he cares for safe.
Likes: + Being outdoors. + Sherbert/Fizzing Whizzbees. + Potions. + Charms. + Music. + Snow. + Family. + Lime cordial. + Kids/Children. + Swimming.
Dislikes: – Pureblood Supremacy. – Prejudice. – Fighting. – Boredom. – Rigidity. -- Nagging. -- Peas.
History:
Born Theodore William Tonks in the winter of 1959, Ted was a surprise, albeit a welcome one, to parents who probably should have known better in society at the time. But like most, they didn't; he was born seven and a half months after their marriage, after all, and he certainly wasn't a premature little lad. It was just lucky they happened to already love one another, so marriage wasn't too giant of a leap despite the little welcome mistake that was chubby, cheerful baby Theodore. Of course, this also made him born the eldest and first child, and much to his chagrin, the only boy, for Ted in the years following would find himself the protective elder brother to three darling, nuisancy, precious little sisters. Just his luck, though none bearing any sign of magic.
From a young age, Ted showed a propensity towards several things; he hated his full name, first off, and it was one of the few things that could send the normally easy-going lad into a bad temper. Or give him warning to run for the hills, if he heard his mother shrieking it. Secondly, before he even got his legs, he tripped over nearly everything that got in his way, gaining his first set of scars at the tender age of five months and two weeks when he crawled headlong into a table leg. And third and most unusual, an entirely unexplainable ability whereby he ended up in ridiculously high places that no normal child should be able to get near. Especially if he didn't want to be found. Only, it always backfired on him, for he never figured out how to get down and then had to scream for Mummy or Dad anyway.
All of this aside, Ted passed his infant years in relative safety. As he was born of a Muggle family, he knew little to nothing of the wizarding world save what he dreamt in his dreams and read in his books and imagined in his childish games of fantasy, and it would remain so until the tender age of eleven. Then, he recieved a most curious letter by owl of all things - Dear Mr. Tonks, it is my pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - and with it, a whole new world he'd never known opened up to him. And explained a few things, too - those random occasions where he'd ended up on top of the fridge, for example, were clearly moments of young, wandless magic.
Crossing the Lake...stepping through doors to the Great Hall for the first time...to this day, it still has it's moments where it seems like nothing more than a grand, overwhelming dream to Ted, and he recalls each detail vividly, right until the moment the Sorting Hat was placed upon his head. And, surprisingly (though funnily, not so surprising to his parents when they recieved the owl later on), Ted found himself Sorted into the studious old blue House of Ravenclaw.
Not that this intimidated Ted - nothing did, really. Well, except perhaps girls; they got to him a bit until he grew up a little. Otherwise, Hogwarts was a place of wonder and work and intrigue, something his creative imagination devoured with gusto for every year that he returned. Though, it wasn't without it's rather crushing moments; Ted learnt quickly in his early years the double standards of the very world he now loved so, particularly when it came to blood, and he became familiar with the term 'Mudblood' on many an occasion. More so as whispers reached his ears of the slowly darkening world outside of Hogwarts - of disappearances and murders and plots that were far more chilling than any fantasy or nightmare. He began to fear for his own family, too, and became morbidly worried if he did not hear from them for longer than a week, doing his best not to alarm them while making very clear that he needed to hear from them regularly. Just in case. Just so he knew.
Despite all this, though, Ted found himself time to be smote down, just a little. Yes, exactly that - smote down, marauded by butterflies, smitten, infatuated, crushing...whatever you want to call it, and despite how very far out of his league he knew her to be, poor Ted developed and nursed and nurses to this very day a dreadful crush on one Andromeda Black. Not that it's stopped him from achieving otherwise...well, one would think it pretty obvious it hasn't of course, all things considering. Head Boy...and all. Yes, really, Head Boy. Clumsy, easy-going Ted. Head Boy.
Something to be praised for, joyful at, which his family certainly was, and now...well, now, he just had and has to deal with Andromeda every other night. And not crush like an idiot boy. As aforementioned, she's far out of his league, after all. And in this darkening, ever more sinister world? Well...
Sample Post: [As Remus Lupin elsewhere] Baiting an Auror was perhaps not the wisest thing one could do, particularly an Auror who, as adored fond of her as he was, had displayed on more than one occasion something of a temper when thrown into a strop. The Black temper, if you could call it that, though a rather muted version of it. Still formidable when provoked, though. It was quite honestly asking for trouble.
And yet here he was, baiting the Auror. Dangerous indeed, and yet the Marauder who’d once been Moony chuckled inwardly in delight, even as werewolf reflexes had him half leaping to his knees to avoid the sparkly but undoubtedly sharp blow Tonks’ wand would deal to the limb in question. He grabbed a hold of her wrists with a choked sound that might have been stunned laughter, thereby preventing any other serious attempts to maim him permanently. For the moment, anyway.
Not that he needed to, or so it seemed; Tonks appeared rightly startled upon realising exactly who it was tormenting her, and Remus felt ridiculously pleased with the sight of her flushed cheeks, a flush that was most certainly not the sort of flush induced by the cold.
“I understand entirely what you mean. But I’d rather you didn’t curse my pinkies off, Nymphadora,” he deadpanned with a perfectly straight face. As if he hadn’t know what she’d been implying. As if he didn’t know what he was implying by letting that hang in the air. It might have passed scrutiny, too – it was certainly a brilliant deadpan expression for any given situation – had there not been an absolutely irrepressible mischievousness shining in hazel-blue eyes, rendering the usually faint amber lights a gleaming, playful gold amidst the blue that was a mockery of the glacial weather outside that it might otherwise have mimicked, had it not been belied by the pure warmth in his gaze. Polite and kind most days, but always warm, was Remus’ gaze. Even when he didn’t want to be.
Marauder indeed.
Once he was half-convinced certain she wasn’t about to hex his fingers or other useful limbs off, he let her go, taking a moment to squeeze her hands in a half-hearted apology before releasing them. Sitting back against the wall, he took a moment to free his voice of the spell - wand-free, of course, the git - then glanced out the window, brow crinkling slightly at how thoroughly miserable it looked from this angle. Outside, it had been bad, yet there was something about sitting inside, in frigid cold, that made it that much more deplorable. And Tonks was so very small – well, when he looked down at her from his height, anyway – which would not help matters in the slightest.
After a few moments he turned back, drawing one rangy leg to his chest and stretching the other out as much as he was able. Rubbing at it – the trick knee, always unhappy in cold weather – Remus graced his companion with an abashed smile – the very same sweet smile that had gotten him out of countless detentions in his school years – before rifling in the breast-pocket of his jacket, finally producing what looked to be, on first glance, crumpled foil, but on closer inspection, turned out to be a half-eaten block of chocolate.
“I come bearing gifts?”
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c o n t r a c t ! I solemnly swear that I, SPOOKY, have read the rules, understand clearly what my responsibilities are now that I am joining ISS, and will abide by these standards set by the staff.
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