LeBeau, Pippin Delilah

[Pippin LeBeau]

before anything i just wanna make it clear that no, the girl/sixth year ban did not end just because i wanted to make pippin. i wouldn't do that. /paranoid

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{ A B O U T . Y O U }

Name: diddums
Preferred Pronouns: anything femme
Age: twenty-two
E-mail: you have it
Twitter: you have it
Years of RPG Experience: absolutely zero
Other: omg lyk iiiii totes luv dis syte!

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

How did you find us?
What about ISS inspired you to join?
Do you have any suggestions for us?

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

Name: Pippin Delilah LeBeau
Age: Seventeen
Gender: Femme
Year: Sixth
Face Claim: Katie Cassidy

Canon or Original? Original.

Facial Properties:

Skin: “Light or light-skinned European”; sunburns may occur on occasion depending on exposure and protection. Skin is generally light-toned with a pinkish tinge. Tanning, however, may occur. Generally, the skin on the subject’s face is smooth, though can dry easily and must be kept moisturised.
Eyes: “Hazel”; brown-gold (or amber) around the pupil, blending to green around the outer part of the iris. The subject’s eyes are long and narrow, and can be called “heavily-lidded”. The subject also has large tear ducts and long, thick eyelashes.
Hair: The subject was born with blonde hair. Over the years, it has gone through numerous changes in length, style and colour. Currently, the subject’s hair falls approximately three inches under the shoulders at the longest strands; however, numerous shorter layers are scattered throughout the hair. It is apparent that the subject takes care to maintain hair health, as there are no split ends and the hair is soft to the touch.
Nose: The nose is abnormally thin, making it appear much longer than it truly is. The tip is slightly pointed, and the nostrils are typically small. It should be noted that the subject feels sensitive about her nose, and has made it clear that she is “not a fan” of it, mostly due to its length.
Mouth: Lips are thin and the mouth is small; even when smiling, it is clear that the subject cannot open her mouth very wide. Teeth are straight and white, with obvious oral hygiene, though it should be noted that the subject wore braces for several years to attain the straight teeth. The subject also insists on it being known that she “suffered” from being forced to wear the braces for several years.
General Facial Structure: The subject’s face may be considered to be “long”. The ears are small and pierced in multiple places. Features are generally rounded and feminine. Cheekbones are set high and are not particularly prominent. The jawline is also rounded, as well as the chin. Overall, the subject has a physically-appealing face, though caution should be taken: the innocent look must not fool you.

Physique:

Height: Subject measures in at approximately 168 cm tall, or five-feet-six-inches. The length of the limbs is proportionate to the height. Palms are of standard size, though fingers are longer and skinnier than expected. Feet, as well, are on the small side for the height of the subject. However, everything else appears to be average.
Weight: Unable to attain a specific amount due to the subject’s outbursts at keeping her weight a secret; however, it appears that she is of a healthy body weight and mass, though the muscle build-up is questionable.
General Physique: It would appear that the subject is, overall, in good physical condition and health. It is apparent from anatomy and reproductive organs that the subject is a female reaching sexual maturity. However, it should be noted that it appears to be difficult for the subject to sit still throughout an examination. The subject appears to always be mobile, and was often fidgeting and rising when remaining still was expected. It is as though the subject has boundless energy, and it can be difficult to get her to pay attention and sit still. The subject often makes sudden physical movements, such as jerking her head, rapid, repetitive blinking, and flicking her wrists and hands. It is possible these tics, as well as short attention span and high energy, are symptoms of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), though further tests would need to be performed to confirm the condition.

Wand Type: The subject’s “wand” is made of wood from an ash tree, and measures to exactly ten inches in length. The core is made of what appears to be animal heart tissue from an unidentifiable creature, though it appears to be related to the reptilian family.

When Pippin first learned she was a witch, she had no idea that wands were more complex than a stick of wood with a pointed end. Before actually going to Diagon Alley, she tried to make her own wand by going into the ravine and finding sticks that she thought would work, pointing them at objects and saying bogus hocus-pocus words in an effort to make magic happen. When that continually failed, she’d dejectedly started to think that maybe this whole thing was a joke, and maybe she really wasn’t a witch, because witches could do magic. But when she, her grandmother and her aunt went to the Leaky Cauldron, and she saw the bartender’s wand move the wall, she realised that it was real, and that she was gonna get a real wand that day. She spent ages in Ollivander’s, not even so much testing the wands as she was looking at them all, asking Ollivander numerous questions about the differences in wood and cores. Pippin ended up going through about a dozen wands before one chose her, and she’d gleefully set off the colourful sparks and trailed them in loops above her head as it was placed in her hand. The final selection was ash, dragon heartstring core, ten inches. Ash wood is said to symbolise people who are ambitious, talented, intelligent, and very independent. They tend to be reliable and faithful, and they can sacrifice a great deal to reach a goal.

Wand Expertise: The subject’s wand is merely a stick, obviously used for hitting people.

Actually, Pippin’s wand excels at Transfiguration, much to her delight as it’s probably her favourite subject. She loves the idea of turning one thing into another, and has longed to become an Animagus ever since studying them in third year.

Patronus: It would appear that the subject believes the stick can summon her personal “spirit animal”; this belief could stem from her Native American roots. The subject seems to believe her spirit animal to be a bear.

Though it’s tough to tell since it’s a silvery Patronus anyway, Pippin’s takes the form of a Kermode bear.

Boggart: It is unclear as to why the subject refers to her phobias as a “Boggart”; however, she has confessed to being both claustrophobic, and entomophobic.

For a girl who’s lived in the woods almost her whole life, it doesn’t make a lot of sense for Pippin’s Boggart to involve bugs, especially spiders. You’d think she’d be used to them, but it turns out she’s severely arachnophobic, and has many issues with other types of bugs as well. Also, she’s claustrophobic, so that plays a part in her Boggart as well: trapped in a box with bugs crawling all over her. However, Pippin’s method of defeating her Boggart is one she’s quite proud of, actually. The closed-in box changes to a bed of pillows, and the bugs become happy puppies instead. The illusion only lasts a few seconds, but it’s enough to get that burst of laughter to fight off the Boggart.

Personality:

. open .

The subject is rather boisterous at times, and quite opinionated. She appears to dislike conflict and prefers to “keep an open mind.”

Pippin hates getting into arguments with people. The problem is that she often forms her own opinions on certain things and gets set into her ways too quickly for her own good (other than in schoolwork and essays); when she hears a different opinion, she’ll offer her own, but if it seems to go the route of disagreements and unpleasantness, she’ll back off. There are certain things she sees as morally wrong, but because she prefers to keep the peace, she sometimes won’t speak out against them. However, if it’s an issue that she believes is “global enough”, or she has a personal connection to it of some sort, she might speak her mind. Failing that, she’ll keep it inside until she’s around someone she can vent to. Pippin is smart enough to know there are many sides to an argument and she doesn’t expect everyone to have the same opinion she has. In her view, it’s what makes life interesting and she wouldn’t have it any other way. She loves to hear different viewpoints; it’s when others stifle opposite opinions that she gets upset. As much as she hates conflict and fighting, Pippin can easily get riled up when someone lets her talk. She can be almost needlessly defiant at times, and though she accepts the opinions of others (to a degree) she sometimes has a habit of going against the grain simply for the sake of being different.

. inquisitive .

The subject appears to have a natural curiosity for a variety of subjects, including mundane, every-day activities of little-to-no importance.

Pippin has a desire to know exactly how things work. She loves gaining new knowledge, especially about “little things”. In fact, she can actually be rather annoying as she tends to ask question after question until she’s satisfied. Pippin wants to know the why behind everything, even about the questions no one else bothers to ask because they’re “unimportant”. She questions the logic behind things such as stories and fables, partly for the fun of it, and also because she genuinely wants to know. Her inquisitiveness is partly where her openness comes from. Of course, her curiosity can definitely get her into trouble. She’ll sometimes ask the “wrong” questions or push someone too far, even with just the sheer amount of them. Pippin wants to know it all, and she won’t stop until she does – or until she’s threatened. Still, a lot of her questions have good intentions behind them with a sincere wanting to know and learn, so it’s forgivable. … Most of the time.

. creative .

Although the subject is not necessarily artistic, she appears to be apt at making up wild stories about imaginary things, such as magic.

Pippin can’t draw worth a damn, but she definitely knows how to spin a story. She absolutely loves to make things up and act them out, and can be extremely dramatic when she wants to be. She also has a wicked memory for stories, from folklore to fairy tales to fables, from Muggle to magic, and has even been making up her own since she was a kid. Now, she’s not a liar – she greatly dislikes lying, in fact – but Pippin has always had a very strong imagination, and, especially as a child, had a tendency to be over-dramatic. Did she really see an Abominable Snowman that one night when it snowed so much they could barely see out the windows? Probably not, but Pippin was sure convinced that she did, and tried everything to make her parents believe her. She has several stories up in her head, mostly about fantastical adventures with maidens being heroes and defeating ferocious beasts to rescue the princes (“Stereotypes be damned!”) but it’s almost impossible to get her to sit down and actually write them. It’s not just that her attention span won’t really let her, but things on paper or parchment just never look as right as they sounded in her head. She prefers to call herself a “storyteller” rather than a “writer”, and she loves to act out the stories in little skits, or even doing the motions and voices and facial expressions when she’s telling the story herself. Pippin is actually more comfortable around children than people her own age because she knows how to keep them entertained, and she knows that they like her because she is good at telling stories and making them interesting. After all, what use do Hogwarts students have for a good story, anyway? Pippin doesn’t know about them, but she does know that she prefers her own private world of fantasy, and loves to share it whenever she can.

. indecisive .

The subject appears to have some difficulty in making decisions when given options, especially choices that are opposites.

Important choices should never be left up to Pippin. She hardly ever trusts her own judgement, and sometimes she can allow herself to be pressured into making a decision she doesn’t think is morally right. Pippin doesn’t handle conflict well at all and is the kind of person who sees “both” sides of an argument, whether or not she supports one more than the other. Historical essays are sometimes difficult for her to start because she has trouble choosing her position. When her friends argue with each other, Pippin is often caught in the middle; when neither of them has done something truly wrong, she refuses to take one side over another. Even just in every day events, Pippin seems to have trouble deciding on something. For instance, when she gets dressed in the morning and the day looks grey and muggy, she’ll consider wearing her jumper to class. But then she’ll start to worry that it’ll heat up during the day, and what if she can’t make it back to her dormitory between classes to change into something lighter? So should she stick with the lighter shirt, just in case? But if she does that, what if it stays cold all day and she can’t even focus because she’s shivering? Should she wear her thick winter socks or her lighter socks? Pippin, a fan of astrology, checks her horoscopes multiple times per day (often from different sources) to help “guide” her, because she believes they’ll make decisions better than she does. She still doesn’t know what she wants to do once she graduates Hogwarts, because there are a lot of things she wants to do. Also, never ask Pippin what her favourite of anything is – you’ll never get a simple, straight answer.

. ambitious .

Although the careers the subject mentions are fictitious, they appear to require her to be diligent and resourceful to “achieve” them.

Because Pippin doesn’t know yet what she wants to do with the rest of her life, and because the top careers in mind require different sets of skills, she spends her time practicing and honing each one so that she can be the best that she can possibly be. Does she want to be Minister for Magic? Sure (even though she thinks she’d have to move back to Canada since she’s not a native of the UK). So she’ll work on learning her magical history and keeping up to date with politics, and though she hates conflict, she’ll try to “subtly” practice her debating skills. She reads the Prophet and keeps up to date with global news as well so that she’s confident in her knowledge of news and issues. The thing she knows she has to work on for politics is her understanding of foreign languages, which is a bit of an issue for her since she doesn’t really have the patience to learn them. Perhaps she can put her knowledge of world issues and history to use by being a journalist instead of the Minister; once she finally decides on her argument, she writes essays quite well and is able to support her positions with solid, firm evidence. Pippin loves a good mystery, so why not work for the Ministry and with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? Surely they’ll have an area for wizarding lawyers, or even a magical crime scene unit. So, she needs to learn to solve puzzles and think critically on many different layers. Or maybe she won’t do any of that and will decide that Quidditch is her passion and play professionally. Whatever she decides to do, Pippin ensures that she has the necessary skills for each of them. She aims high and works hard to ensure she has the best possible chance of achieving what she wants – once she knows exactly what that is, of course. However, due to circumstances out of her control, Pippin is also her own worst enemy when it comes to hard work and getting what she wants: she has a ridiculously short attention span, and it’s exceedingly difficult for her to focus for more than a few minutes at a time. She knows it holds her back; however, she’s not sure what to do about it, so she does her best to work around it. If she feels her attention start to go while doing homework, she’ll temporarily switch to another subject until losing interest in it and going back to the original. She does the same with essays. The only thing that manages to keep her mind occupied for the entire duration is Quidditch, because it is never the same and is action-oriented. Her inattentiveness has lessened as she grows older, though it was much more prominent as a child.

. awkward .

The subject seems to lack the ability to have normal social interactions in a crowded environment.

Pippin is the first to admit it: she’s extremely socially awkward, especially when she’s in a crowd of more than four or five people. She didn’t grow up around a lot of people, especially kids her own age, so she never really learned what was normal social behaviour. That’s not to say that she’ll go out of her way to act abnormal in a classroom, but it is hard for her to relax when she’s in a group setting. If the focus is ever on her, it’s not uncommon for her to recite a random fact or tell an odd joke simply because she can’t think of anything else to say. When it comes to conversation, Pippin will often clam up and try to stay in the background and just observe, if she can, because she knows that she’ll do something weird or embarrassing if the focus turns to her. It takes a lot of interaction for Pippin to relax and act semi-normal around groups of people – and by “semi-normal”, that basically means she acts generally weirder than normal people, but the others are used to it. Pippin has been known to say some very awkward things in her time, mostly about nature (such as “starfish have no brains”, or “crocodiles can’t stick out their tongues”, or “a pregnant goldfish is called a ‘twit’”), and often there’s no other prompting for them than two or three people looking at her as though expecting her to say something. Her reasoning is that she says these random facts so that people think, “Huh, she knows a lot of little things, she must be smart” – but really, she knows that they just make her look even more stupid.

. weird .

Plainly put, the subject is rather unusual.

“If you’re not weird, you’re boring.” At least, that’s Pippin’s view on life. She knows it’s not entirely true, but it’s become her motto over the years. She’s a bouncy person who appears to always be full of energy. She fidgets in class and often sighs loudly when silence is expected. Sometimes, instead of walking down the hall, she’ll break into an odd prance or skip and encourage whoever is with her to participate. She doesn’t care if people think she’s a freak, because she likes the fact that she stands out to them in some way. If someone says “Pippin LeBeau is the weirdest person I ever met”, she thinks of it as a compliment. Hey, at least she’s number one to them in that category! She’s an optimist and likes to be happy, and will often encourage those who are sad or upset to put their troubles behind them for a few minutes and find some reason to smile. She doesn’t care when people laugh at her, because in her view, it makes them happy – even if it’s more schadenfreude than genuine glee. She is extremely adept at tree climbing and isn’t afraid to go as high as she can. As a child, this resulted in numerous injuries that seemed like they should have been much, much worse (nowadays, Pippin thinks her magical tendencies protected her from real harm). She loves heights and will sometimes even find ways to sneak out of a window onto a section of roof on the castle, and spends a lot of time on her roof at home during the holidays. She isn’t a thrill-seeker; climbing just seems like fun to her, and it is. Another thing it does is require a lot of physical strength and skill, which, depending on the difficulty, can wear her out and give her (and those around her) some much-needed rest when all is said and done. She’s impulsive and will say and do things without thinking of the consequences, but she’ll try to laugh them off as much as she can. She’s confident in her weirdness and embraces it – which, she jokes, is probably the weirdest thing of all.

Likes:
+Exploring
+Chile peppers
+Outdoors
+Hockey
+Quidditch
+Animals
+Climbing trees
+Star-gazing
+The colour blue
+Ice cream
Dislikes:
–Spiders & other bugs
–Tight spaces
–Over-cloudy days & nights
–Onions
–Pollution
–Blood
–Silence
–Bell peppers
–Seeds in fruit
–Paper cuts and slivers

History:
The subject is of Canadian descent, and appears to have Native American origins as well. She claims to be the first of her family to be able to produce “magic”; this is, of course, imaginary.

. family .

Father: Joel Richard LeBeau (presumed deceased)
Mother: Maria Nizhoni LeBeau née Grey (deceased)
Paternal Grandmother: Yvette Edna LeBeau née Whelan (guardian)
Paternal Grandfather: Donald Eldon LeBeau (deceased)
Maternal Grandmother: Tacincala Grey née Nakanasa (deceased)
Maternal Grandfather: Daniel Damian Grey (deceased)
Great Aunt: Gillian Mavis Whelan (guardian)
Great Aunt: Allison Paula Whelan (guardian)

. parents .

‘Notre sang est l’or.’

Our blood is gold. While it wasn’t the official family motto, that phrase certainly began to describe the LeBeau family in the middle of the nineteenth century. Douglas LeBeau had struck rich in the California Gold Rush in 1851, and rather than spend it all, he tucked it away into savings. He told no one but his wife of his discovery, and they lived quietly and happily, never worrying about poverty or starvation. They grew older, having several children – three daughters, and finally, a son they called Richard – and were content to spend the rest of their days on the California coast. When Richard was thirteen, Douglas showed him his most well-kept secret: a tiny vial of water, in which floated three flakes of gold. He told him everything about the California Gold Rush, and said he hoped that one day, there would be another, so that Richard himself could experience the thrill of finding his own and knowing that they were lucky enough to have everything they could ever want. Douglas died before the next gold rush came, but Richard – who had a wife and children of his own – had never forgotten his father’s words. When news of gold trickled down into San Francisco in 1897, Richard didn’t hesitate to pack up his family and move them north. He wanted the same luck as his father. He wanted the same glory. Finding gold and striking rich was in his blood, after all. He was bound for success. His eldest son, Donald LeBeau, was barely fourteen when they moved north to Canada. The winters were harsh and unforgiving; having lived their lives in the warmth of California, the climate of the Yukon took its toll on them – and many others who travelled with them. Donald’s younger siblings didn’t survive the first winter, leaving his mother heartbroken and sick for home. Richard, meanwhile, was trying his luck with the Klondike Gold Rush, and Donald went with him every day. Luck never seemed to be on their side, leaving his father frustrated and his mother depressed. Sure, they still had the small fortune that had been left to them by Douglas – and Richard swore not to touch a cent unless absolutely necessary – but it wasn’t the same as finding it yourself. Times were hard, and especially trying when others around them seemed to be successful. “Our blood is gold,” Richard would say whenever Donald decided to question if they should go home. It took Donald thirteen months to finally believe him.

That was when he found his first flake of gold – real gold. His discovery wasn’t a fluke, as the deeper he dug into the mine, the more he found. It was enough gold for he and Richard to afford a team of sled dogs to take them deeper into the mountains, where they continued to find small amounts of gold dust, but never enough to land them in the papers. The more they found, the more obsessed Donald became with the idea of striking rich, and the harder he worked. Sometimes, Richard would have to drag him back to the sled to go home. Donald’s mother, meanwhile, had taken up work in a roadhouse, cooking meals for weary travellers. It was in such an establishment that, in 1899, Donald met Yvette Whelan, a young Irish woman whose wealthy father decided to partake in the Klondike Gold Rush “for the challenge”. A few travellers had brought some instruments and had begun to play music, and Yvette raised her skirt around her ankles and began to dance. Donald was unable to take his eyes off of her, even when she spun round and round and crashed right into him. He was completely taken with this girl with the strawberry-blonde hair and deep blue eyes. Not even thinking about it, he spent the rest of the evening dancing with her, and even when he and his parents went home for the night, his eyes were still glazed over. She was constantly on his mind, even when he and Richard went out for the gold, and it became considerably easier to get Donald to come home. He saw her every time they went to the roadhouse, and made a point of chatting with her and dancing with her and doing his best to be around her. One night, she invited him up to her room after a few rounds of dancing, and he went willingly. Donald was, ordinarily, a traditional sort of young man, but he was willing to change everything he believed in for Yvette. He barely knew her, but he did know that his confession of love was not simply emotions and hormones. He knew he wanted to marry her.

The Klondike Gold Rush ended barely a month later, moving westward into Alaska. Yvette’s father seemed to decide he’d had enough of the cold, and had managed to find a small handful of gold for himself, and was ready to go home to Ireland. Yvette protested fiercely, though she never said why. After all, she complained about the weather and lack of “true” civilisation more than he did. She had no reason to stay, as far as he knew. She fled before she could explain herself, finding Donald still at home before he and Richard took the dogs out for the day. She told him that her father wanted them to leave, but she couldn’t go, she couldn’t leave Donald, she couldn’t leave him when she was pregnant with his child. They weren’t married, and they were still very much children; having a baby was not an option, but they had no other choice. And so, they did the only thing they could think of: they ran away together, packing their belongings in secret as fast as possible. Before dawn the next morning, they set out with the sled dogs, Donald leaving only a note for his parents to tell them he was sorry and that he loved them. They travelled fast, reaching Whitehorse within the week, where Donald sold his sled team and rented a tiny cabin for him and Yvette. They lied about their ages and married at the first opportunity, waiting for the baby to come – but it never did. Yvette suffered a miscarriage just before her second trimester, but she and Donald decided not to return to the lives they left behind. They started anew, taking their time and building a life for themselves. Using the bit of gold dust he’d manage to save and bring with him from Dawson City, Donald set about building a home for the two of them. Yvette found a job as a nurse in the hospital, and Donald worked in construction as Whitehorse expanded. But as his father used to tell him, gold was in his blood; on days he didn’t work, he would explore the countryside, looking for any traces of gold that could potentially be up there. But he never found anything. It didn’t seem to matter much, as both he and Yvette were earning money, but as the years passed he began to long for gold. The Klondike Gold Rush was over, but his heart was still in Dawson City, and both he and Yvette knew it.

In 1908, they moved back to Dawson City – and to their amazement, Donald’s parents were still there, welcoming them home with open arms. Richard was aging at this point, and now that he knew his son was alive and well, he felt secure in allowing him to be the sole inheritor of the small LeBeau family fortune. He didn’t tell this to Donald, who was rather shocked to hear of it after Richard’s passing in 1917. Donald was thirty-four at the time, and Yvette was thirty-three. Although they had tried for children many times in the years of their marriage, nothing had ever happened since the first lost baby. Finally, when both of them had given up on having children altogether, Yvette became pregnant. In 1921, she gave birth to a single baby boy: Joel Richard LeBeau.

In the southern provinces of Canada, Native American tribes were being overrun by white settlers, driven into reservations as Europeans expanded. But one woman, a Plains Cree known as Tacincala, was curious about their ways. She fled her tribe, seeking out a way to become a part of the new world. She valued her traditions, of course, but she wanted to know more. However, at each bend she was met with prejudice and hostility; she was almost tempted to return home when she met Daniel Grey, an explorer and historian who was looking for a guide. Tacincala knew the land, and so Daniel hired her. Eventually, he married her, and they had their own small handful of children. Daniel had always been intrigued by the north, and though he had been too young to be part of the Klondike Gold Rush, stories about it had always fascinated him and he wished to write a book. He took the family north to Dawson City, collecting stories about the rush along the way. In Dawson City, he and Tacincala had their final child: a little girl named Maria, born in 1928. Yvette, who had helped with childbirth in the hospital in Whitehorse, had become a midwife to several women since being back in Dawson, and had assisted Tacincala with the birth of Maria. Yvette and Tacincala became fast, close friends, and Joel often played with her and Daniel’s older boys. The two families grew close as the years passed, often trading houses for dinner. Donald became a prominent figure in Daniel’s book; in fact, he decided to title it Our Blood Is Gold after the LeBeau family motto. While it wasn’t a global bestseller, the book eventually became popular in Canada, especially the North, earning the Greys a nice bit of pocket change.

It was just after the beginning of World War II when news reached Yvette about her father back in Ireland, with whom she’d gotten into contact after moving back to Dawson City: he had suffered a massive stroke, and his health was rapidly depleting. She decided to take a trip out to see him – just her, as her father wasn’t fond of Donald in the slightest – and while she was gone, Joel decided to go to war. He had flown a few planes in his time, given that it was become the best way to travel so far north, and flew as a pilot in the six years of war. While he was overseas, fighting with Great Britain, Donald remained in Dawson City, and Yvette unwittingly ended up staying in Ireland with her father and two sisters, using her nursing experience to care for him as much as possible. Barely a month before the war ended, Donald passed away of pneumonia, and after returning to the Yukon briefly for his funeral, Yvette’s sisters encouraged her to come home for good. Joel knew that his true home was back in Dawson City, however, and so he came home to settle back down.

. marriage .

Maria Grey was still very much a child when Joel LeBeau left for war. When he returned home, however, she had blossomed into a woman so dramatically that he, at first, didn’t recognise her. This woman couldn’t be the child he’d watched grow from a newborn to a precocious adolescent. She was too mature, too beautiful – she couldn’t have been the same girl who’d shoved mud down his pants and chased rabbits in the summer. But she was, and she remembered Joel completely, even with his limp – a reminder of a gunshot wound his second year at war – and scars. She was living up north in Whitehorse, working as a nurse like Yvette, but was down in Dawson City for the summer to visit her parents. Joel, completely smitten, decided to head north when she did, offering his services to the town to fly residents to different places in his own private plane. He earned a bit of money for a while, especially during the summer months when the occasional tourist showed up. Courting Maria proved to be difficult, however, as she didn’t take him seriously for several months. But he persisted, and eventually won her over. They married in the late ’40s, and though they knew it was expected of them, they opted not to have children. They had a handful of nieces and nephews to spoil, thanks to Maria’s siblings, and they were content to live with just the two of them. They liked children, but didn’t plan on having any of their own.

So when Maria announced she was pregnant in early 1960, Joel was quite surprised. The past few years had been easy on them; sure, they were quite far north, but by now they were used to the winters and knew how to prepare for them. Joel managed to start his own business by flying his plane in tours of the Yukon wilderness, which drew quite a crowd after a reporter from British Columbia wrote a rave review. The two had purchased land outside of Whitehorse, deciding to live amongst nature instead of in the slowly-growing city, and built a nice home for the two of them. They didn’t have room for a baby without expanding, but they didn’t have much other choice. After all, they couldn’t expect the baby to live in the shed – that was where they kept the sled dogs Joel had purchased. So, Joel hired local townsmen to build another room onto the house, just for their baby. Despite the fact that having a child was never something they wanted or planned on, as the due date grew closer and Maria’s belly grew bigger, the more excited the couple became. Maria spent hours a day in the new room, decorating it to be a nursery in preparation for the big day. Neither of them worried much about how old they were; Maria was only in her early thirties, and Joel wasn’t quite forty yet. It didn’t matter that they would probably only have the one child, either. They were happier than they’d ever been, and more excited for the future than they could bear. Finally, in the winter of 1960, their one and only bundle of joy arrived.

. childhood .

Pippin Delilah LeBeau was born on November 26th, 1960, in Whitehorse General Hospital. She was a crying, pink-faced, green-eyed, bald little girl, and to Maria and Joel, she was perfect. They took her home days later, learning how to be good parents while raising her to be a good person. They blamed the “strange things” happening lately on the weather and the fact that they lived in such a remote location. Yeah, it was weird that the logs sometimes rolled off their pile when Pippin cried. And it was weird that sometimes, flowers in Maria’s garden would suddenly burst into bloom when Pippin said she wanted to see them, even in their off-season. But these things couldn’t be because of a harmless little girl, especially not their harmless little girl. So they ignored them, made up other excuses, and loved their daughter for the little weirdo she was. Maria stayed home with Pippin, homeschooling her rather than making the long trek into town each day, while Joel continued with his tourism business and brought in enough money during the summer weeks to get them through the winter. He taught Pippin how to hunt caribou and rabbits and how to fish, and Maria taught her how to track the paths of animals and collect any edible fruits they could find. They taught her how to chop wood and start fires and showed her different ways to cook the meats they caught. Despite the city not being too great of a distance away, Pippin was learning the essentials of how to survive in dire circumstances. After all, they were in the Yukon; they didn’t get very many chances to make mistakes, especially in the winter. By the time she was six, Pippin had caught her first rabbit, and could bait and release her own fish – provided that the bait wasn’t worms or other bugs, of course. She could recognise the sounds of different animals to know when she was safe, or when it was time to run inside. Joel was even teaching her how to command the dogsled team. Pippin had always been a precocious little child, but she was often full of energy and sometimes couldn’t stay focused on the task at hand. She talked excessively, so much so that Joel affectionately nicknamed her “Motor Mouth”. Despite Maria trying to teach her good habits, Pippin was horrendously disorganised, losing everything from clothes to toys to fishhooks. She loved to run outside and climb more than any boy Maria and Joel had ever known, but they decided to look on the bright side: Pippin wasn’t hurting anyone, or herself, and it did help to keep her healthy and active. They decided to let it go.

It was just a month after Pippin’s sixth birthday – the day after Christmas – when Maria got sick. It happened so suddenly and came on so strong that they didn’t have time to stop it. She passed away on December 29th, 1966; later, it was discovered that an open wound on her leg had become infected from not being treated. It had led to blood poisoning, and combined with the freezing temperatures, it had all led to a rapid failure of her immune systems and her body eventually shut down. Upon hearing the news, Yvette flew out from Ireland to spend time with her son and granddaughter. She lived with them for two months, helping them adjust and helping to homeschool Pippin, until the two were ready to function on their own and she returned home. Shortly after, Joel sold his plane and took up a job down south in Dawson City; although gold hadn’t been found in large quantities since the Klondike Days, there were still rumours that there was a large amount somewhere in the mountains, and miners were needed. He, Pippin, and the dogs moved their essential belongings down south, living amongst the trees but still close enough to town that Pippin had access to schooling and social interaction. Joel would take her into town with the sled dogs each morning to drop her off at school, and she would get a ride back with another parent to the edge of town and walk the rest of the way. It was tough in deep snow, but when it was quite bad out, she’d often get a ride all the way. Sometimes, she would have to miss school; when the weather was bad, the miners stayed in cabins out by the mines, and Joel wouldn’t be able to come home for the night. A lot of the fathers in town were miners, though, so it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. And for four years, Pippin and her father lived this way: just the two of them, working hard and surviving, relying on only each other for their basic needs. One nights when Joel was home, if the weather permitted, he’d often take Pippin onto the roof and tell her about constellations and watch the Northern Lights.

And then, during the winter of Pippin’s tenth birthday, Joel didn’t come home from the mines for two days. And two days turned into three, and it didn’t make sense, because the weather was nice. Pippin managed to take care of herself, using the skills her parents had taught her years ago, but she couldn’t deny that she was worried. On the fourth day, two of their sled dogs returned home in the early morning, having chewed through their collars. Three more returned that afternoon, but Pippin never saw the other three again. There was still no sign or word of her father. So, using the smaller harness and sled Joel had custom-made for her by the local carpenter, she hitched up the five remaining dogs and set out to find him herself. Pippin didn’t get very far; she had never guided the sled without Joel before, and the dogs weren’t used to listening to her. They turned too quickly, throwing Pippin from the sled. She hit her head on a rock and was knocked unconscious until nightfall, when she awoke and realised how lost – and screwed – she was. Pippin whistled and called for the dogs, who didn’t return. Finally, she tried to go back home, but it was nearly impossible to see in the dark, and there were noises all around her, and Pippin wished desperately that she was an animal too. She wished, hard, that she had the nose to guide herself home, or at least the claws to defend herself if something decided to attack her. She could almost picture herself turning into a polar bear in her mind; Pippin’s imagination was so strong that she could have sworn her fingernails were thicker, longer, and much sharper when she moved her hand up to scratch her cheek. But it was impossible to see in the dark, so she couldn’t check.

Luck seemed to be on her side; she managed to find her cabin before she got too cold, warming herself by the fire as she began to admit to herself that her father probably wasn’t coming home. She slept in front of the fire that night, just in case he walked through the door the next morning. He never did, though a knock at her door in the early morning had her heart leaping up into her throat as she raced to get it. But it was only a Mountie, collecting her from the home and bringing her into town to sit in the station until her grandmother could fetch her. There had been a cave-in in one of the mines, he explained. Joel’s body was never found, but no one saw him make it out. He had to be dead; Pippin was an orphan. Before she descended into mournful silence, she told him about her sled dogs running away. She wanted him to find them, if he could, and give them good homes. After he promised he would, Pippin closed her mouth, and didn’t speak again until Yvette arrived to take her home to Ireland.

. ireland .

Even though Yvette’s father had passed away some time ago, she had decided to remain out in Ireland with her two younger sisters, Gillian and Allison. As much as she liked life in the Yukon (Canadians amused her, for some reason), Ireland was where she truly felt at home. She and her sisters inherited the house left by their father, who owned a number of banks across Ireland and who had quite a wealthy background. The mansion itself had seven bedrooms, so there was more than enough room for Pippin. Gillian had moved into the house a year after her husband passed away, whereas Allison had never married, but had a tendency to think of herself as younger than she truly was and still dated. Even though Yvette was Pippin’s only legal guardian, Gillian and Allison decided that they were going to act as though they were, too. Each of them took her under their wing: Gillian, who considered herself “the classiest” of the three sisters, tried to teach Pippin the essentials of being a lady, such as proper etiquette and grammar; Allison often countered this with trying to teach Pippin how to apply make-up and how to properly bat her eyelashes without looking like there was something in her eye. Of course, Pippin tended to not pay attention to either, preferring to spend her time outdoors climbing trees and running around – and, sometimes, making strange things happen. There was the one time Pippin had a nightmare shortly after her arrival and, even though they were off, all the bulbs burst in her bedroom. Another time, she had been exploring in the garden and slipped down a small hill, trapping herself in a hole; her claustrophobia had kicked in and she began to panic when, miraculously, she was out and back on top of the hill.

She lived with her grandmother and aunts, coping with her father’s disappearance and getting used to Ireland and living with her new family, until the summer after she turned eleven. Then, all of the “weirdness” was explained when an owl delivered a letter to Pippin and was shortly followed by two men claiming to be wizards from the Ministry of Magic. They explained to Pippin that she was a witch, and while ordinarily she’d go to a wizarding school in North America, living in Ireland meant that she would be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The wizards helped her locate a place called “Diagon Alley”, where she purchased her school supplies, and later told her exactly how to get onto Platform 9¾ to catch the train to Hogwarts. It all happened so fast and seemed so wonderful that Pippin didn’t doubt its truth for a second. Of course, there were those frightening moments when Pippin got separated from the ministry wizards and wandered into Knockturn Alley – but they found her soon enough, and warned her to stay away from there until she was, at least, of age. Until news of Hogwarts, Pippin was supposed to attend Coláiste Íde, an Irish boarding school for girls; frankly, she was more excited by the prospect of a magic school than the alternative. Either way, she would be getting an education, and Yvette was absolutely thrilled at the idea that Pippin could perform real magic. Allison claimed that she always knew Pippin was special, and even Gillian couldn’t deny that magic was real (and kind-of cool).

And so, Pippin went off to Hogwarts, returning to her family every summer and holidays. Living as a “normal” teenager was difficult, especially with Pippin’s history and odd habits. She taught herself how to climb walls and often sneaked out onto Hogwarts rooftops at night to look at the stars; it was comforting, in a way, to know that even across the ocean, her dad could have been looking at the same stars as she was – if he was alive. She fell in love with flying and with Quidditch, and discovered that she was terrible at Potions but strong with Transfiguration and Charms. She treasured the friends she made, since she’d never really had any before; living in the woods provided little social interaction, and she’d been kept out of school when she first went to live with her aunts and grandmother so that she could have time to properly adjust. Hogwarts became home, and she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

Sample Post: no.

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{ C O N T R A C T }

I solemnly swear that I, Didi, 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.

[Lucy Murphy]

ACCEPTED.