Post by hellie on Sept 24, 2011 13:11:17 GMT -5
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{ A B O U T . Y O U }
Name: Dean
Preferred Pronouns: female! she! her! laaaddyy!
Age: eighteen
E-mail: interesting.elle@live.com
Twitter: @kelseydeanlove
Years of RPG Experience: three years!
Other: TEDDY! (:
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{ Q U I C K . Q U I Z }
How did you find us? My dear friend, Evan.
What about ISS inspired you to join? The pink, actually, and the set up.
Do you have any suggestions for us? Not off the top of my head…the “newbie” section, with all the different fonts and colors, was a little hard to read and follow.
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{ A B O U T . T H E . C H A R A C T E R }
Name: Helena “Hellie” Holmes
Age: Sixteen
Gender: Female
Year: Sixth Year
Face Claim: Cris Urena
Canon or Original? Original
Facial Properties: Hellie’s eyes are a dark, chocolate colored brown and almost almond shaped. Her nose is small and button like, while slightly turned up. Her cheek bones are high, and prominent on her olive skinned face and without a freckle in sight – she thanks her lucky stars. Her lips are round, pale pink and plump. Her eyebrows are moderately thick, but sculpted and her ears – in her opinion – are a bit too large for her head. She often hides then behind her dark black, naturally straight hair, leaving it down to its full length – just below her shoulders. Her teeth are spaced, with the smallest gap in between, but straight and white. And, her eyelashes are long and dark – with her mother to thank.
Physique: Hellie’s figure is lanky and long. She’s terribly thin, despite the copious amounts of food she – as a teenager – consumes. Her arms are long and boney, much like her fingers. Her torso and legs are proportioned, but long – it would seem it’s a reoccurring theme, being long. Her breasts aren’t large, but a comfortable medium between small and enormous. Hellie is shaped much like a box, with the exception of a few curves she’s been blessed with. And, she’s not too ashamed to say she’s got a donk for her frame.
Wand Type: pleasantly swishy, 12 inches, rosewood
Wand Expertise: Charms
Patronus: No minimum. What form does your character's patronus take? Regardless of whether or not they can perform the spell.
Boggart: A corpse version of herself.
Personality: Hellie is painfully defiant. She’s the most self-destructive person this side of the Himalayas. There is never a time where Hellie is chill, or serene. She’s either finding a fight or starting one. She fancies herself a rock star, and loves to show it. Not only is she destructive inwardly, but she destroys most things around her – whether it’s intentional is another story. She loves to feel the adrenaline of near-death experiences and longs for the pain of a broken bone – not in the “I’m going to purposely inflict pain upon myself” way, but if it happens, it happens. And Hellie can’t help but love it.
She’s socially awkward, too, when it comes to actually carrying out a conversation. She doesn’t really know how to conduct conversations that aren’t about herself, which is totally, and admittedly conceited. So, for the most part, Hellie sticks to being by herself, raising a little hell and sticking it to the man, you know? She’s not necessarily a loner, Hellie would never label herself as that, or anything for that matter. But she doesn’t go out of her way to strike up a conversation on the weather, families or any other pointless information. She hates getting to know people, because she could care less, and she hates when she already knows people because she gets annoyed. Call her a nut case, if you will, but that’s Hellie Holmes.
Hellie is also quite the cynic, if that was apparent. Some people see the glass as half-empty, some people see it half-full. Hellie thinks some people need to get a life and stop staring at glasses. Her sarcasm knows no end, as well. Rarely does something come out of her mouth that isn’t dripping with sarcasm and dread that she’d even have to be speaking to the person. Her mother declares her a hopeless case and unbearably antisocial, but that’s not entirely true. In fact, it’s not true in the least bit.
Contradictory to everything previously stated, the few friends that Hellie does have are true until the end. She’s very judgmental by nature and upbringing, so she singles people out and finds out – with her trusty checklist – if they’re compatible, tolerable and understanding enough to be considered a friend. Few have passed such a test, Hellie Holmes wouldn’t dare be anything less that thorough and picky. But she trusts the fair few to the ends of the earth, they’ve never betrayed her. Trust and honesty are also huge in Hellie’s mind. She strives to be as honest as she can be, sometimes to a fault.
So, in a nutshell, I suppose, Hellie is sarcastic, self-destructive, antisocial, cynical, a thrill-seeker and deemed unfriendly by the outside world. But, hey boys, she’s a total catch.
Likes:
+ rock music
+ acts of violence
+ verbal fights
+ wrestling
+ quidditch, a beater
+ reading
+ jumping off things
+ throwing things at walls
+ running through fields
+ solitude
Dislikes:
– lengthy, pointless conversations
– line dancing
– inactivity, sitting around
– losing
– admitting defeat
– being told “no”
– rules set by parents
– being talked down to or belittled
– messes and drama
– bad grades
History: Ackerman Holmes was born the son of two respectable wizards, Carter Holmes and Stella Holmes. The two pureblood wizards raised all their six children on the values of blood line purity, education importance and wealth status. And, when Ackerman met Amelia Rodriguez, daughter of Victor and Ramona – two of the most renowned, pureblood Herbologists, he knew he’d found his match. The two were a pair for the ages, both with the determination of their parents and the desire to please. They were married shortly after leaving Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and – both being children of large families, Amelia having six siblings of her own – wasted no time having children. Tucked away in the confines of the wizard world, they built their dream life in the form of a three story, eggshell white home in a gated, expensive neighborhood and the birth of their first son, Remington Michael Holmes.
The family, Spanish and French, on Amelia’s side, and English, on Ackerman’s side, didn’t dare stop there. It seemed every year a new child was added to the Holmes family roster. Following Remy was Corby Jane – their first daughter, after Corby was Lex Elijah, a son, next was Spencer James, the third son, then Emmanuelle Ophelia, a daughter, Abrianna Noelle, a third daughter, after came Mallory David, the fourth and final son, and then, rounding out the family to a complete ten, was Helena Scarlett Holmes.
Helena was meant to be their angel, their Godsend. She was their baby, the youngest of the children and the spitting image of her mother – a sweet, gentle, genuine sweetheart. She was treated like a delicate, priceless porcelain doll and she hated it. Her siblings hated her for it, too. Hellie wanted nothing more than to just be Helena Holmes, the child of Amelia and Ackerman and sister of too many to list. The attention became too much, her mother kept her locked away like she was their best kept secret. Helena only came out when there was a tea, a social event, or a birthday party that called for Amelia to have some sort of trophy, a bragging right. Helena slowly began to realized, upon turning eleven and receiving her letter, that that’s what she was and what she always would be to her mother – a prize. She secluded herself even more than before, refusing to go to teas, or finding ways out of parties and events. She requested Amelia take Corby, Emma or Abrianna – all fine girls, blessed with the Holmes/Rodriguez looks.
However, living a life of seclusion from a young age, when your parents think less of you than they do the muggles because you refuse to live up to their impossible expectations, has its effects on you. Helena, calling herself Hellie, made it her goal to be the exact opposite of the Holmes family name. Instead of being the proper, upstanding citizen that the rest of the Holmes children strived to be, Hellie became the destructive, troublesome, meddling child her father was, discretely, in his youth. It was the only way her mother would stop using her as a gold medal. Unfortunately, Hellie started to believe she really was a horrid child, a bad seed, and she gradually allowed herself to become that way. With that, the threat of her mother disowning her became all too common, while her father just sat back and said nothing – a secretly proud smirk on his face. And thus, Hellie became who she is today as a result of sheer defiance.
Sample Post: Helena Holmes stared at the sign dangling above her - excitement and a sense of danger brewing in her taut, tanned and slightly exposed stomach. An ever-so-common, devilish, signature Hellie grin crept, gingerly, onto her face scrunching up her eyes and causing the normally bored brown orbs to sparkle with a hint of maroon. She tucked her hands in her jacket pocket, loving the feel of leather on her skin, and allowed the shadow of the Knocturn Alley shop to cover her as she ducked inside. A tattoo parlor, how thrilling! Hellie took in a breath, smelling the mixture of lavender and jasmine candles and smoke. She loved it, and marked it as the scent of adventure.
She took a look around at the customers – a few muscular men and one rather ragged looking woman with crooked teeth and a lazy eye – then examined the drawings scattered on the counters and hung up on the walls. Immediately, one caught her eye. It was a tree; a simple, billowing and blowing tree with small, hanging leaves and a thick trunk. A voice interrupted her racing mind, “Can I ‘elp you, miss?”
Hellie turned, grimacing at the scent of the troll-like, relatively plump man’s breath, but straightened. She pointed up over head and smiled, “That one. That’s the one I want.”
She followed the man, behind a curtain and down a hallway. She eyed the room, it was dark and dank – secluded, and something she was far too accustom to. Hellie removed her jacket and tossed in on the back of a nearby chair before she straddled the seat presented to her and lifted the back of her shirt, pointing, “I want it to reach up my back, with some leaves falling off. Does that make sense?”
Two beautifully painful hours later, Helena draped her jacket over her arm, shook the man’s hand after paying him, and made her way out onto the street, the tree perfectly on her back and the branches blowing elegantly.
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{ C O N T R A C T }
I solemnly swear that I, DEAN, 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.
