Rosmerta, Evelyn Diane

[evelyn]

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{ A B O U T . Y O U }

Name: Bird
Gender: Male
Age: 18
E-mail: [e-mail]
Twitter: You got it.
Years of RPG Experience: 2
Other: removed by staff

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{ Q U I C K . Q U I Z }

How did you find us? B.i.z.
What about ISS inspired you to join? Herp Derp. The cool people.
Do you have any suggestions for us? MORE WAFFLES.

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{ A B O U T . T H E . C H A R A C T E R }

Name: Evelyn Diane Rosmerta
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Year: Sixth
Face Claim: Kirsten Dunst

Canon or Original?

CANON.

Facial Properties:

I never thought I’d seen anything so beautiful. She didn’t even have to smile, and I’d cry. But she’d open her mouth, and I’d. . .I’d freeze. The world would stop moving and I couldn’t catch my breath. She’s got the smile of an angel and a natural rouge that stains her cheeks. And that nose. That perfect little nose which leaves just the perfect amount of space between her gleaming blue eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a day when Evel’s eyes didn’t gleam. She doesn’t even have to be happy to see her eyes shine, either. She brightens my day whenever I see it.

Physique:

She’s never been bulky. Maybe once while she was going through puberty, but I swear it was like she wanted to be. She was such a tom-boy. She’d eat constantly and demand that she’d choose what I’d make for dinner. Food went through her quicker than my Lactose Intolerant belly can handle spoiled milk. Honestly I don’t know where she puts it all. She’s always had curves. That’s from her mother. She’s tall now, but that took awhile, too. When puberty hit, she shot up from four foot seven to five foot nine. I miss my little Evelyn, but I’d take her any way I can get. She’ll always be my Evel.

Wand Type: 13 inch black oak ;; Hippogriff feather core
Wand Expertise: Charms :: Potions
Patronus: A calf.
Boggart: Six boys, no faces.

Though her history does not pertain to how she grew up/her personality, I’d still appreciate it if you read that first. Kthnx.

Personality:


Being called a whore is the least of Evelyn’s problems. I mean, who wouldn’t expect to be called a whore when all of your friends are guys. She doesn’t sleep with them – with the exception of a few – It’s really not her fault that she thinks women are annoying, catty, unfaithful, ridiculous, self-absorbed bitches. Granted, she does accept the fact that not all females are like that. She does have few girlfriends, but by few, she means two or three. And if anything, they’re remotely like her. They aren’t peppy and annoying. No, Evelyn can’t stand that. She hates femininity and girl-power. All her life, Evelyn grew up a tomboy. She liked sports and running around causing trouble. Pranks and jokes were her best friends. Even though her brothers weren’t there to push her around, she still inherited the jeans that they had received. She was a ball of fire. On top of everything and always wanting more. Being a tomboy was never a bad thing. She fit right in with her daddy and his friends. She learned to play poker at the age of seven and learned how to manipulate the shit out of people. Her life was fun and full of trouble.

Though she is a tomboy, there is a deep desire for love. There has only been one boy who has met her standards, only because she is very very serious about the word “love”. Love is not some word to be thrown around. The word love should have every ounce of heart behind if. If you mean it, say it. If you don’t care, don’t share. It’s that simple; don’t abuse the word Love. Love isn’t a simple thing for Evelyn, and it doesn’t come easy for her. She’s picky when it comes to a man she’s looking at for more than just a friend. First off, they have to be a friend. Before anything. She will not date unless she has befriended the person and knows who they truly are. The man has to be committed. Anything against those wishes makes her hair crawl with flames. Nothing upsets Evelyn more than abusers and users (of women ;])

Once in a great while, Evelyn gets a little riled up. Nothing usually shakes her feathers up. Actually, she’s usually quite passive; especially when it comes to drama. But once in a great while, some dumb person has to make their matters personal with Evelyn. And this is where Evelyn goes down hill. She’s not a strong woman. In fact, her muscles are puny, but there’s so much underlying anger running through Evelyn’s veins that it’s hard to hold her back when she’s ready to go. Not to mention she’s got a mouth the size of Texas that talks back twenty-four hours a day. She’s normally contempt with all people, but if you say something stupid, she’ll be the first to tell you.

Schoolwork has never been first on Evelyn’s list. Usually her friends or sports come first, and then, if she has time, schoolwork is always next on her list. It’s not that she hates school. She loves school. But being lazy is one of Evelyn’s worst accommodations. If the task at had isn’t something that remotely interests her, then there isn’t a need for it to be done right away. Her bedroom is constantly messy. Messy beyond normalcy. “Oh, I’m done with this wrapper? I suppose it doesn’t need to be in my hand . . .-drop-“ and given the right amount of motivation, two days later she usually picks it up and throws it in the can. Evelyn has never been sure why she does things like this, but it’s beginning to become something of a problem. She’s a slob when it comes to her room. Cups of water that haven’t been finished and just left out in the open are everywhere (thank god for the house elves at night) and she absentmindedly has found herself in this tragic habit.

Cigarettes are a bad habit that Evelyn keeps a secret. Gum is her best friend after every smoke so no one detects the smell. For some reason, Evelyn has always hated the after-smell of Cigarettes. Sure they taste and smell fine when she’s smoking, but afterwards, the smell attached to her makes her cringe. Smoking is just something that she doesn’t want to give up at the moment. Evelyn is not a heavy partier, but she does like to let loose every once in a while. She’s been known more of the person who takes care of everybody, rather than partying it up every night with her friends. She cares more about them than she cares more about herself.


Likes:
+ Food.
+ Brooms
+ Dogs
+ Pineapple
+ Reading
+ Boys
+ Friends
+ Love
+ Writing
+ Her papa.
+ Fires
+ Cigarettes
+ Television
+ Iced tea
+ Wind
+ Jewelry
+ Chips
+ Tennis
+ Blankets
+ Cooking
+ Helping people

Dislikes:
– Annoying girls
– Drama
– the smell of Cigarettes
– burnt toast
– chicken
– Strong sunlight
– Cars
– Crying
– Blast Ended Skrewts
– Homework
– Bugs
– party poopers
– board games
– paint
– Feet
– Jealousy
– Distractions
– Complainers
– Obsessions
– when people are uncreative

History:

“What is the difference between greed and envy, Rosmerta?”

“What?”

“I’ve spoken. If you haven’t heard me, perhaps you lose?”

“No, no. I’m just. . .”

“You weren’t born with that fucking stutter, now either answer the simplistic question or get out of my sight.”

“…..greed is hording. The rapacious want for…more. While envy…”

“Get on with it.”

“Envy…is resentment towards a person for having something you lack.”

“Do you lack something, Mr. Rosmerta?”

“I-“

“It was a rhetorical question, you ignoramus cretin. . . .Tell me something. . .”

“Anything.”

“You have several children, no?”

“I do.”

“What are their names?”

“Laurence…Gerald…Geramy…Samuel…William…Peter…and Evelyn.”

“And where did you find the hilarity in naming all several of your children with the very first letter of all several deadly sins?”

“I did not want my children to be afraid to live.”

“And what the fucking hell is that supposed to mean, eh?”

“Jesus died for our sins; we shall not fear the several deadly sins.”

“How touching.”

“I will not be mocked.”

“I will not be challenged, you filthy imbecile.”

“I-“

“You don’t anything.. . .so, since you’re so infatuated with all of these sins, which exactly would you label our relationship?”

“How can I-“

“Let me rephrase the question? Whether you’re stuck between greed and envy, in that mush you call a brain, which do you suppose is the basis between our agreements? I mean, you certainly did not come all of this way for nothing. You seem to favor one or the other. Which is it?”

“I can’t say.”

“You can’t say?”

“I don’t know?”

“I suppose I’ll choose, then?”

“What do you mean, choose?”

“Either you’re here out of peer greed for which distastes my tongue the least, or you’re here out of envy. Do you envy me, Rosmerta?”

“I-“

“It’s a very simple question. Do you envy what I have?”

“If it entitles shame, then no.”

“You do not enjoy shame? Well I quite enjoy your shame. I quite enjoy it very much, thank you. So, are you envious of what is not yours? Or is your mind filled with so much greed that you need more?”

“…I’m…yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“I…I envy you.”

“So…you come all this way with the purpose to be something like me?”

“Not-“

“And what exactly do you see in me that you want? I can give you everything, and I can take anything from you. Is that what you envy about me?”

“I just-“

“You’ve made your decision on how you feel about me. I grant your envy, but watch your sins.

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Eight pairs of brand new leather boots were stocked high next to the rotting door of the Rosmerta household. Well, one could call it a household, but in actuality, it more a room. Several beds were lined against the walls of a twenty-foot by twenty-foot room that quite literally resembled a box. The walls crumpled in random places giving it a papery effect and stains contaminated the vast blankness of the walls. There were no decorations or pictures. There were no closets or any other doors besides the very large and oddly hanging front door in the center of the south wall. A small cupboard stood directly across from the lonely door, and in the very center of the room was a crib. Evelyn was fast asleep, bundled in what looked like socks and spider webs. Her heavy lids were blue and red from the lack of sleep her brothers let her have, and scratches on her cheeks reflected the abuse they put her through during their long hours of horsing around. Her strawberry blond hair curled in the tiniest fashion above her left temple while the rest of her head had tame, straight hair. A stench of cigarettes and dung filled the room constantly; the community bathroom was right outside of room 24, the Rosmerta Residence. While four of the Rosmerta children ran around in circles, around and around Evelyn, the other two sat in the corner and punched at each other, crying and swearing up an adolescent storm. Mr. Rosmerta was absent today. He had just received a very heavy loan and was going to turn the life of the Rosmerta’s upside down that very day. As the boys surrounded Evelyn, knocking into her cradle and screaming foul things at each other –all of which did not wake Evelyn for she became used to this type of non-sense – three stout and short knocks rapped across the rickety door to room 24. No one ever knocked on the Rosmerta’s door.

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“So what was the price?”

Mr. Rosmerta dangled a set of keys between his pointer and his thumb, swinging the jingling set back and forth. A cigarette leveled on the tip of his lips swayed in circles as he answered the question with another question. ”Of the building? Probably three broomsticks… and a leg. . .”

“Don’t be daft. What was the price of the loan?”

Mr. Rosmerta’s keys stopped jingling and he thought long and hard. ”The conversation didn’t go that far. I’m assuming interest…made me feel like a down right Git, though, eh.” The keys started jingling again as a gray ash pile fell from the tip of his cigarette and down to the damp cobble street below him. The sky above mourned an even deeper gray, making his cigarette ash look putrid white. The crickets had just stopped chirping and the sun had made it’s attempt at showing itself over the trees in the west, but the clouds prevented it from gleaming down the cobble-stoned road. Shops had not opened yet, but the bars had just closed. A bottle of fire whiskey suspended itself by the clench of Mr. Rosmerta’s thighs. ”Today’s the day, bobby. Today is the day I turn my life around and upside down.”

“Yeah, and what’s that supposed to mean?”

A large swig of fire whisky made his throat fill with a charred rage. He pulled at his collar and dragged on his cigarette again. The last of the ashes fell from the glimmering cherry and he dropped the finished cigarette. Stepping on it with his foot, he said, ”I’m changing our lives today. I bought the restaurant.” Mr. Rosmerta jingled the keys in bobby’s face and grinned from ear to ear. Today was the day he changed his life. It was the day he was going to change all of their lives. His kids lives. He was going to provide for them finally, get them out of the stink hole poverty they’d been dwelling in ever since Christine had passed. His dirty teeth were still showing as he shoved the greasy keys back into his trousers and stood up, squishing the cigarette butt even more under his weight.

“Oi, where’re you goin’?”

”To tell my kids.”

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He stashed the fire-whisky in the toilet closest to his door. Well, it wasn’t his door anymore. He could kick the thing in, for all he cared. Mr. Rosmerta was getting out of there today if he could. They were all going to strap on the brand new shoes he’d just bought them with the money he’d borrowed and they were all traveling across town to the restaurant. Above the restaurant was a seven bedroom living space where they all would have their own rooms. He was going to start a business and have a place for his children to play. They could be as loud as they wanted to without disturbing anyone who was within a ten-foot radius of them. They were always so loud, poor Evelyn didn’t ever even get any sleep. Well, she was at least getting some sleep now. There were no loud noises from the boys on the other side of the door. That wasn’t right, was it? No noise? They were always making noise. Those little fuckers weren’t going to be quiet for anyone. Surely they hadn’t quieted down for little Evelyn. They barely even noticed she was there. Geramy was the only one who really looked after her while he was gone. So why were there no noises? Those little gits and had run off and left Evelyn alone, hadn’t they? Idiots. All of his sons were idiots. He opened the door angrily.

And he fell to his knees desperately.

Every boy was sitting up in his bed, blood seeping through multiple tears in their tiny little shirts. Rivers of red rolled into his knees. Each boy’s head was dementedly cocked in weird angles, their necks black and blue. A few did not have shirts, showing the deepness in their fresh wounds. Their greasy hair was disheveled in a traumatic manor and their limbs hung low and limp. Their eyes were shut lightly. Christened above each of the boys, written on the blotchy walls, one of each of the several sins was written in blood. The painted horror dripped slowly. Vomit filled the floor in front of Mr. Rosmerta: vomit and fire-whisky. Blood shot into his eyes and he could no longer breath. His breath and the stench of the room made his insides turn more. His breathing stopped while the rest of the house passed off his screams. There was no describing what he felt. There was no way of describing it at all. He had nothing. He did nothing. He could feel nothing.

He did nothing until he heard a baby cry. Evelyn. He looked up, unable to make anything out through his murky vision. Evelyn’s cradle was pushed against the cabinet across from him. He got up slowly with his head cocked to the side, praying that his child be unharmed. He found his hands and held them out in front of him choking on his own heaving chest. Slowly, he made his way over to the crib. Every step felt like one thousand. Finally, he peered over the cradles edge.

Evelyn was unharmed, with a note pinned to her blanky.

I grant your envy, but watch your sons

sins.

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Evelyn was too little to remember.

Evelyn was too little to know.

and she still doesn’t

Sample Post: See anything by Davey Fisher

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{ C O N T R A C T }

I solemnly swear that I, Bird, 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.[/color][/blockquote]

[Lily Evans]

accepted !

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