Owen Bradley

[owenbradley]

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{ A B O U T . Y O U }

Name: Kate
Gender: Female
Age: 17
E-mail: [e-mail]
Twitter: I dun haz. Just a facebook ^_^
Years of RPG Experience: Man...I guess I'm at almost 6 now.
Other: removed by staff ;D

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

How did you find us? The Stranglehold
What about ISS inspired you to join? I've yet to find a legitimately successful HP RP. You guys appear to be not only well structured but active.
Do you have any suggestions for us? Perhaps a checklist thread for new members? As a guest it's a bit daunting to look around and wonder what all you're supposed to do when you join. It might help to make it very plain and simple. =)

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

Name: Owen Bradley
Age: 14
Gender: Male
Year: 4th
Face Claim: Neil Jackson

Canon or Original? Original

Facial Properties: Owen has a thin, short face, more angular than square or round. The corners of his thin mouth point upward in a perpetual smile, but the hollow cheeks above them prevent his expression from being particularly inviting. When a smile does cross his face, it's a bit crooked, usually just one corner lifting up, giving him a boyish look. The young man's eyes are intense and fascinating in their color. Closer to a greenish gray than anything else, they are always set in a fierce and knowing gaze. He has fairly large ears, but they balance out the sharpness of his features quite well. Owen's hair is a sandy blonde color with a dark brown undertone.
Physique: Owen's body is classic for a 14 year old boy. He stands about 5'3 and 110 pounds. He's clearly struggling to have an athletic build, but his lack of age just won't allow for it. Judging by his lanky build and long legs however, he's got quite a bit of growing to do. Owen's hands are that of a musician and an artist: small palms and long fingers that are almost feminine in appearance but for their rough texture. The boy does keep himself in shape however, planning on being quite the athlete someday despite his magical upbringings, and therefore has well defined and built muscles hidden behind a wiry and narrow mold.

A pierced left ear and plans of future tattoos are telling of what he may be about to grow into.

Wand Type: Hypogryph feather 12" Rock solid
Wand Expertise: Good for transfiguration and defense against the dark arts.
Patronus: A vixen fox.
Boggart: A raven.

Personality: Owen is a quiet young man, not one to seek out new faces in a crowd. But then, you wouldn't generally find him amongst a crowd. The boy has a tendency to prefer simply skulking off into a corner to sketch the shadows of a suit of armor over reading the Quibbler in a noisy and crammed common room. His idea of a Friday evening is laying on his belly either writing poetry, music, or sketching while his rat, Commodore, sleeps on his shoulder. While he certainly would be up for a good sport any day of the week, you're not going to find him being a noisy social person.

But Owen isn't going to curl up in anyone's lap and purr either. His quietness doesn't come from being shy or docile at all. On the contrary, it's his attempt at avoiding conflict. This young man is incredibly opinionated and stubborn despite what he may appear to be like. Debating is his favorite thing, but he does realize that he has a tendency to go overboard when he knows he's right, hence his quiet and laid back demeanor. Now and then that part of him gets out of hand and he'll go off on a long rant about how wrong you are, but for the most part he does well at keeping his self-control.

Regardless all of that pent up argumentativeness, Owen is a fairly decent person. He knows how to be polite, which makes up for his ferocity much of the time. He's quite a gentleman when it comes to women, raised to a world where chivalry is not quite dead yet. He is the kid that holds the door for everyone else, offers to carry things, and generally the nice kid. He is not to be confused, however, for a doormat. Treat him like your pet and he will choke you with the leash.

Intelligent and sharp-witted, Owen easily takes the cake at home for the biggest prankster. He knows how to get under peoples' skin just enough to be funny for everyone. He's been known to sneak into rooms at night to slip something slimy into your pillow, and it's not uncommon to get a pretty foul smell from your morning meal. But he uses it to get top marks on nearly every exam more than he uses it to annoy his peers. Unfortunately, this does make it easy for people to take advantage of him for homework and such. Owen is everyone's best friend right before the big test.

Likes:
+ Swimming
+ Writing
+ Music
+ Debates
+ Sports
+ Sketching
+ Pranking
+ Star gazing
+ Running
+ Spending time with his rat
Dislikes:
– Cold weather
– Birds
– Rain
– Cramped spaces
– Large crowds
– Loud noises
– Bullies
– Early morning
– Annoying persistence
– Boring teachers

History: Owen was born in a hospital in London just like any normal baby. He was brought back home to a small cottage on the edge of a large expanse of forest like any normal child. He was raised on a fifty acre farm just like a normal child. At two years old, his younger sister was born. The family was average. A healthy mother and father who took proper care of their children, worked for a living, and knew how to love each other.

However, the average family facade stops there.

At age nine, the parents began to explain the world of magic to their boy. Owen had grown up watching brooms sweep the kitchen on their own, pots hover their way over to the stove, and broken lamps mend themselves. But when his father taught him that this was not something all humans could do, Owen's curiosity peaked. The usual accidental magic use ensued. His sister slowly floated downstairs upside down now and then, and from time to time the curtains would catch fire as his temper flared. But for the most part, the child's untrained skills were kept well in hand.

At age ten, the owl came. It was late in the evening, just as Owen was about to crawl into bed after a long day on the farm. A rap on the window got his attention and he turned to find a large brown owl glaring in the window with an envelope in its beak. Curious as always, the young man opened the window and the bird hopped in, dropping the letter onto a small table beneath the sill. Opening the parchment paper, Owen read an invitation out loud to himself. Hogwarts? Wasn't that the school his parents had gone to?

The boy sprinted downstairs and leaped into the middle of the living room waving the paper excitedly. His parents were just as pleased as he was and the next day they took him on a trip to Diagon Alley to collect the things he would need for the term.

Owen didn't much care for the school robes, but accepted them graciously along with a stack of books, his new shining wand, and a large jet black rat which he quickly dubbed Commodore. Gratefully, he packed his things into the trunk his father had taken to school with him years ago, and prepared for his trip to a new school. The children at his "muggle" school had never really cared for him anyway. He was too different for them.

It seemed that magic came rather naturally to the boy. Upon arrival at the ornate building he was able to pick up on the spells older students were using rather quickly. Classes were challenging but passable for the boy, and he even made a few new friends. No one seemed to understand his muggle games (football, soccer, hockey, etc.) but rather introduced him to a new one. Quidditch.

The magical game interested him, and soon he began to study it, now and then joining in with other players in friendly unofficial matches after classes. Soon enough he had developed a certain amount of skill at the sport and decided that eventually he would try out for the team.

The rest of his years at Hogwarts were quite the same, no particularly fascinating tales to tell. Though family life back home has in fact become progressively worse with each return.

Mr. Bradley's work has become more and more difficult lately as mysterious happenings continue in the wizarding world. The toll on him shows in the bruises on Owen's mother and sister. Owen himself takes much of the beating when he is home to do so, making sure he protects the women in his home from the beast that once was their guardian. He is grateful that his sister is coming to school this year, if only for the fact that now one more person is safe for a while.

But Owen is becoming quieter and quieter, and his appearance and demeanor are becoming darker and darker. This may be the last year the boy looks so innocent and kind.

Sample Post: Steps light and arms pumping, a sandy haired Owen jogged along the tree line, his breath making a fog as he ran toward the lake in the distance. His legs burned with the effort of running so long, a feeling he knew well and loved to have. It was nearly routine by now, this run, waking in the morning to get his heart pumping and his mind moving.

Finally he reached the edge of the lake, sandy shore sparkling in the early morning light. The blue water to his left lapped gently at the banks as it was pushed by the wind, the sound of splashing making him thirsty, his feet itching to leap into the icy water despite the cool temperatures that already gave his bare chest a sharp tingle.

Owen looked around him as he ran, taking in the sight of the forest in the distance. He imagined the trees as they would be at the start of the new year, turning green slowly, perhaps some even flowering, shading the lake below their thick branches. Perhaps a cherry blossom would drop its flower into the water and it would flow toward the middle, spinning now and then when the wind hit it properly...

Smiling his crooked grin, the boy picked up his pace, jogging slightly faster toward the grassier edge of the water. The breeze brushed through his hair, keeping it dry despite the sweat that had begun to bead on his forehead. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head slightly. There was no room in his head for images of spring. No room for beauty or niceties. No, in his mind there was only room for the harshness of reality anymore.

The reality, his sister, and...

As the young man rounded a small patch of brush he spotted the grass and slowed to a stop, a deep sigh whooshing from his lungs as he began to catch his breath. Perhaps he could enjoy beauty for a moment. But only just a moment.

Owen reached the edge of the water and fell backward into the grass, his back bending over his hips as he stretched his fingers toward his ankles. His feet pushed just over the tide line where the grass was wetter from the lake, toes brushing the cool water. His stern eyes closed and he leaned back to lay down, firm features still set in his usual stone expression.

As a breeze brushed over his stomach, he sighed again, the scents of the forestry around him filling his nose, the songs of the birds nearby ringing in his ears. No, he would not sleep. Not here. He could sense what was in his future, reality and sister aside.

He had to be prepared; for even if it did not find him here...

Danger was following him.

Risk was in every step.

Something wicked this way comes...

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{ C O N T R A C T }

I solemnly swear that I, Owen Bradley, 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.

[Professor Albus Dumbledore]

Accepted! Welcome to ISS (:

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