D.D.D

[dedalusdiggle]

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{ A B O U T . Y O U }

Name: Artemis
Gender: Female
Age: Almost seventeen. :3
E-mail: -
Twitter: -
Years of RPG Experience: Around five
Other: Teddy you do really have to change this ^^

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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: Dedalus Declan Diggle
Age: Sixteen
Gender: Male
Year: 6th
Face Claim: Jesse Eisenberg

Canon or Original? Canon

Facial Properties:

Dedalus was always considered handsome by his mother, his father, and even got it out of his sister a few times. Although he doesn’t have particularly manly features; paleish face, a longer nose, and very full lips. His nose is straight until the tip, where it slants upwards slightly, into a small curve. The strips of hair lining his eyes are pretty thick, but scattered and a dark brown color that matches his hair; on Dedalus, they are almost always set into a furrowed look of concentration or worry, until he brings himself to think positively, and they rise. Dedalus’ lips are pretty full for male standards, and a rich color. His smile brings a set of dimples around the corners of his mouth, and his teeth are averagely short and straight. He has a slightly jutted chin, and a little dimple on the center. As well as this, Dedalus has a couple of light freckles scattered around his face, on the right side of his cheek, above his left eyebrow, a family thing, from his mother’s side. His eyes are a deep blue color, and average sized, and they form crinkles at the far sides when he smiles or laughs. Throughout his teenage life, he grew some stubble across his jaw and above his lips, which he keeps shaved, but sometimes little prickles of hair show, which actually don’t suit him that badly. On the other hand, unlike his parents, Dedalus has curly brown hair that he keeps rather long, framing his head all around, and curls hanging before his forehead.

Physique:

One could say that Dedalus’ physique is perfectly average, as most of his appearance is. His body type is more or less lanky, in a way, and pale. His arms and legs are long and don’t have that much muscle in them. They are also not particularly hairy, and those patches that are, are light and thin hairs. This is due to the fact that Dedalus would much rather be singing or acting than playing football or Quidditch or anything; not that he doesn’t like the latter options; as a matter of fact, he loves them, but that isn’t the point. Dedalus is relatively tall for his age; not the tallest in his year by a long shot, but at least taller than all of the girls, and most of the guys, which is definitely an advantage. His skin is very light, and it takes him forever to acquire a tan, even hanging out under the sun for hours. He’ll get a sunburn before a tan, which has been the epitome of his older brother’s taunts for years of his life, the latter which apart from being naturally tanner, darkened in a couple of hours. Dedalus likes to wear average t-shirts, and button-down shirts and cardigans for day to day, accompanied by a pair of jeans, and some shoes. He doesn’t care about fashion at all, and rarely takes the time to make sure he looks okay.

Wand Type: Rowan and Phoenix Feather, 10”, sturdy
Wand Expertise: Best for Charms
Patronus: Kangaroo
Boggart: His family dying.

Personality:

To start, let it be known that Dedalus Diggle is a thinker. A thinker, and a classifier, and that he keeps these thoughts and feelings almost like in little boxes inside his mind and soul. If someone was to group these boxes into four different ones; they would show the main four aspects that make up Deed’s personality.

FAMILY

Being one of the most important things to him, Dedalus would really do anything for anybody in his family. They all grew up very close before the illness that his mother fell in, and the bond between them used to be unbreakable. It’s one of the things that Dedalus yearns most in his life, and what he’s determined to pursue until it’s fixed again. This is another factor that’s very him; even if the outcome is said to be impossible, he’s going to be determined to try anyway, because he believes that anything can be accomplished with the right amount of willpower. He believes that things, events, and people can be changed if the right cards are played. His relationship with his father used to be strong; he used to look up to him and write as much as he could, until he became distant, and as much as he tries, he has a strong resentment to him for giving up so easily. For being one of the reasons why his brother left, and why his sister won’t see reason anymore. As to his siblings, Deed still hasn’t given up on Theseus, despite him having been gone for almost a year, though it’s a private subject to him, as is his sister’s behaviour lately. Dedalus himself isn’t one to be really open about personal matters, and will only divulge small broad details of them to his closest friends, if asked. He much prefers the topic of conversation to be politics, or current events, or even entertainment. He’s very secretive as to his own feelings, and doesn’t really like to talk about them with anybody. However, he is a protective older brother, and a devoted middle child, and has it set that he’s going to bring his family back together somehow. The thought is always in the back of his mind, but he tries to push it there by distracting himself with people, or with puzzles. Deed has always been a thinker, and one of his favorite pastimes is figuring out riddles or puzzles, and he thinks that that is the best way to learn; entertaining yet a fabulous exercise for the brain. Even so, Dedalus is by no means anti-social; quite the contrary. Which brings us to our second box, labeled:

FRIENDS

This is one of the aspects in which Dedalus is most like his father. He has a friendly disposition and an easy temper, and isn’t hard to get along with. Ever since he got to Hogwarts and was sorted, he sought to make friends with people, to share jokes with, to find common interests with, etc. Dedalus is pretty upbeat, and his constant optimism makes it hard for him to really be in a bad mood about something. Most of the time, he’ll breeze over a complication with a way to solve it, or ‘look at the bright side of things’. He rarely gets riled up about something, and the few fights that he’s been in with friends over the years have been mild and quickly resolved. He’s not a physical person (mostly due to the fact that he would probably have the lesser advantage due to his lack of exceptional strength) and would much rather resolve conflicts by talking about them. He’s a quick-thinker, and smart, and one of his main advantages in a word spar is his ability to come up with retorts easily. Deed has a somewhat dry, joking sense of humor, and words are his favorite way of communication. He’s an avid talker when he wants to be, but manages to be a good listener, too. He’s one of those people that really makes eye contact and thinks about what you’re saying, analyzing it, and coming up with the best way to reply. In social gatherings, he won’t stay in a corner and watch, but much rather engage in conversation with one of his friends, or with someone he hasn’t met yet, if he finds them entertaining enough, and isn’t one of those people that runs out of things to say in a few minutes. As well as this, Deed’s other traits for his family also apply to his friends in some ways. He’s a very protective person, and would go to lengths to make sure nothing happens to the people that he cares about, though he wouldn’t show it like that. He’s not particularly touchy-feely in that way, and isn’t really good with demonstrating his own feelings, which again, brings us to box number three:

LOVE

Having grown up with a carefree, lively mother who believed in all things bohemian, and was open to laughter and brightness wherever she went, Deed wasn’t a stranger to being attracted to the opposite sex. Ever since he was little, his mum used to tease him with their neighbor’s daughter, or that little girl they saw at the park, until eventually he found it normal for boys to like girls, and vice versa (even though he only really stopped thinking girls were gross when he was around twelve). However, Dedalus has always been awkward to an extent when it comes to girls he likes. In circumstances like that, he would hide every feeling he could have for her, and treat her like any other person, which is why he’s never really had a girlfriend before. He doesn’t like making the first move, and it’s the one area in which his perseverance and determination fails. He believes in romance, but isn’t sure how to do it, though he would like to, and isn’t very comfortable with girls liking him, either, because he doesn’t know how to act around them, and, again, ends up treating them like any other person. Strangely enough, as to sex, though he knows how it works and why it’s supposed to feel good and everything like that, he’s never been interested in it at all. In retrospect, he doesn’t think he’ll never do it, or not necessarily that he won’t ever want to, he’s just not interested in it now. He’s sixteen and according to him, there are many other things he could be preoccupied with. Deed believes that if he ever manages to get one of the girls he likes to go out with him, that as far as he’ll go will be kissing. Hand-holding is perfectly fine, and would most likely freak out if she wanted to go further. Even so, when Dedalus falls for a girl, he falls hard. He’s passionate, and caring in his own way, and though he won’t necessarily show it, his warm affinity and chivalrous side of him would take over when it comes to her. And then there’s the last box:

LIFE

Here is where the remaining little quirks of Deed’s personality go. Like mentioned before, Deed is extremely agreeable. Cultured, modest, and humorous, even though he can sometimes be stubborn with the things that he believes in, and can be arty and freethinking to a certain extent. He doesn’t think that rules are everything, but won’t go out of his way to break them, either. There are two main sides to Deed, depending on the mood he wakes up with. He’s either calm and collected, though always with that underlying wit accompanying him wherever he goes, or he’s a chipper guy. It’s common that you’ll find Deed tapping his foot on something, or whistling, or pacing, deep in thought about something he came up with a few hours ago. He loves dancing, and acting, ever since he was little, and he did it with his mum, and a habit of his that came up when he was around fifteen was that he’s an occasional smoker. He stays clear of drugs due to what happened to Theseus, but he likes the free, floating feeling of a good smoke. As well as this, Dedalus actually really likes playing Quidditch, even though he hasn’t exactly had loads of experience with it, and his body isn’t perfect for the harder positions, but he would probably be a good Seeker or Keeper; positions that require instant reaction and tactical thinking more than brute force and fast flying. Dedalus isn’t necessarily competitive, but he likes a challenge, like a good Quidditch match, or a good Wizard’s Chess game. In general, Dedalus is a pretty easy-going guy with his few quirks, and things that make him unique.

Likes:
+ Having fun
+ Being care-free
+ Trying new things
+ Sleeping in
+ Compliments
+ Puzzles
+ Getting the right answer
+ Dancing
+ Singing
+ Acting
+ Parties
+ Muggles

Dislikes:
– Downers
– Bad moods
– Rainy days
– Superiority
– Herbology
– Negativity
– Feeling alone
– Losing control
– Wallowing in memories
– Hopelessness

History:

George Diggle was your average wizard. He was recently graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was an intern at the Ministry of Magic, had had a couple of healthy relationships over the years, but had just broke it off with his girlfriend, he had a pair of parents that cared about him, friends that liked hanging out with him; a good, healthy life. But there was still something missing in him. Something that was empty inside, that needed filling, desperately, but he didn’t know how or where to find it, no matter where he searched or how hard he tried to get rid of it, it was still there, bugging him to do something, but the problem was, he didn’t know what. Until one day, his uncle David came back from having spent the summer in Paris, and it hit him. He was yearning for knowledge, as usual, needing to see more of the world, know more, and inform himself to other cultures, if you will. And having always been a man of quick decisions, it was within a week that he resigned his post at the Ministry, said goodbye to his friends, packed some clothes and money in a bag, and made for Europe. He arrived by Portkey in Madrid, Spain, and spent nearly a month there. It was amazing, the things he’d never seen of the world, the cultures, languages, customs around him, in other Wizarding worlds that he’d never understood or witnessed; the openness and thirst with which he arrived at each place he visited was overwhelming, and not two months had passed before George had walked the length and breadth of Spain, and even learned some Spanish. But this was still not enough, he needed to see more. His second stop was France, of course, Paris first, to be precise. The city of love. George had read all about it, and was prepared to meet a girl that would change his life forever. He didn’t find her, not there, but he didn’t give up. Not until he met Francesca Grant when he set foot in Rome.

Born into a wealthy family well interned in the showbiz business, Francesca Grant had been an actress since very little. She had been homeschooled as she attended the Rome Institute for Modern Arts, in which she excelled in her acting career. She was good, very good, and performed on stage for an audience various times. Her father had died when she was very little, and she had almost no memory of him, except that he had been a great father to her and her three older sisters. Her mother was young for her daughters’ ages, but she dedicated her life’s work to each and every one of them, so that they succeeded in the things that they loved doing the most. For Isabella, the oldest daughter, it had been architecture – she was now one of the city’s most renowned modern architects, even though she based her designs on ancient Mexican structures. The second daughter had been more interested in literature, and was a writer. She wrote everything, from newspaper articles, to poetry, to short stories, and was working on a novel. She hadn’t become famous publicly, but within her family, Raffaella’s work was admired and praised. Alessandra had been the black sheep of the family, having pursued a life of nothing but partying around, doing nothing productive, went into drugs at some point, and was living with some guy she was dating. Her mother didn’t refuse to see her for it, but she preferred to keep focused with the rest of her daughters. Francesca was her jewel. The only one of her daughters that had followed in her and her mother’s footsteps: an actress. Her mother was the first to encourage her to be homeschooled so she could rehearse all she needed to be excellent in what she did, and the first to take her to audition for local plays and the like. Francesca performed amazingly, and won the lead role many a times.

It was on one of these times, when she was in the role of Juliet for a performance of Shakespeare’s most famous play, that George happened to be sitting in the front row of the ample theater, and fell in love with her. Sure, he wasn’t the strongest believer in love at first sight, nothing like Romeo and Juliet, that didn’t exist. But his view changed when he saw Francesca perform in that theater. She was nineteen, the programme said, and George was resolved to meet her. He sent her a huge bouquet of flowers after the play, and had them delivered to her dress room with a note from him, praising her and telling her she was beautiful. The next night, he came to see her again, another bouquet of flowers, another signed note, and Francesca began to wonder who this stranger was. She asked her attendant to tell the man to wait next time he came by, and the day after that, Francesca came rushing out of her room to meet George. He was captivated by her, and had an ease for words and compliments that won her over easily. George was by no means rich, and by no means used to Francesca’s glamorous lifestyle, but her mother loved him anyway, and invited him to dinner at once. Months passed this way; George stayed in Italy longer than he had in other countries for her, and became her adoring boyfriend. But Francesca’s talent was not going to waste; she was still well into performing, and after a year or so, she got called to participate in the production of a new musical in Broadway, New York. Her mother had finished packing her bags before she’d decided to go through with it, and Francesca was dreading telling George the news. But once they were out, she realized there had been nothing to worry about. George was thrilled at her success, and picked up his little possessions and followed her there. She went alone, without her mother, and they rented an apartment together. They got used to life in New York, as different as everything was to anything they were used to, and neither had been in the city before, but still, life was good there. Francesca performed wonderfully, she was loved immediately, paid huge sums of money, and became famous, George by her side. They became great friends with another young couple on their street, and everything seemed to be going wonderfully.

Three years later, George decided to go back to England to pay a visit to his family, his friends, whom he’d lost contact with over the time he’d been away, and missed dearly. Francesca was to stay with her job, and he’d be back within a few weeks. Except before he could return, on a cold night, he opened the door to his parent’s house, where he was staying, to find Francesca there, alone. She was pregnant. The first and only thought that ran through George’s mind at that moment was, ‘I haven’t told her.’ Francesca had no clue that he was a wizard, that he could do magic. She didn’t even know wizards existed. And she was having his child, who was almost positively going to be like him. George didn’t know how to tell her, so he went with his usual way of handling things. Outright. One night, as they ate dinner, he just blurted it out. Francesca stared at him, not sure if he was joking. George took out his wand and levitated the glass in front of him, deciding that if Francesca decided to leave him then, at least she’d have a choice in the matter. But instead, his fiancé’s eyes lit up like when they did when she performed, or when he brought her flowers, and that was it. She was obsessed. Through her entire pregnancy, Francesca wanted to know everything there was to know about wizards, and she was thirsty for more every day. Sometimes she would wake him up in the middle of the night to ask something out of the blue, and he’d answer readily, not able to believe how wonderful he was, how lucky he was to have her, and how much he loved her. They got married when she was five months pregnant, and the bump was small, but still noticeable. Yes, people talked, no, they didn’t care. They had each other, and they had this baby, and that was all that mattered. This baby was born, and Francesca, who had become fascinated with magical beings, had researched that many of the concepts came from ancient Greece, mythology, and terminology, and had currently been immersed in the etymology, decided to name him Theseus, after a Greek hero. He seemed like a normal baby, and George had to explain that children started showing signs of magic at around seven years of age. He could tell Francesca was a little bit disappointed, but the child had rekindled the fire she’d lost when she’d given up Broadway. Theseus was two years old, when Francesca and George had their second child. Again, it was a baby boy, that, sticking to the Greek names, they called Dedalus. In two more years’ time, the Diggle family had three children, aged four, two, and a month old. The youngest one was a girl that they called Ariadne. They stayed in England, especially after George explained that the children would have to go to Hogwarts for magical training, and Francesca was the first one to agree to that; she was thrilled for her children, and couldn’t wait to see them perform magic like she’d seen her husband do. The family was loving and cared for each other, and lived a happy life. Francesca still wrote to her parents in Italy, and visited them once, before coming back to her family. They’d agreed that they should not know about George’s, or any of their children’s abilities, as it violated a wizarding law, he explained to her. They wrote to their friends from New York, but again mentioned nothing of the sort. But they weren’t lonely. George introduced Francesca to all of his old friends, more wizards and witches, and although some looked down on her for being a muggle, most welcomed her in with open arms. The couple took their children to plays and musicals as soon as they were out of their mother’s womb, and sung to them and danced and played around with them, encouraging them to follow their musical instincts. They were happy.

But the happiness was short lived. When Dedalus was five years old, and Theseus had started developing magic of his own, Francesca started feeling strange, and pain at random moments of the day. At first, she acted as if it were nothing, passing it off for a headache or something, but George started to worry. He noticed it was really hurting her, and pressured her into getting medical help, until she conceded. However, St. Mungo’s wouldn’t take muggles in, he learned – George was outraged – and so they took her to the best muggle hospital in town to examine her. A week later, the analysis was finished, and Francesca’s breast tumor was found. George didn’t know what to do about it. Francesca was sure she would take medicine and be fine. They decided not to tell their children about this, but after a few months, that the pain became unbearable and the medicines didn’t work, Francesca admitted that she had to be hospitalized. She told her children, who were scared and confused, that she was a little sick and that she needed to stay in the hospital for a while, but that she would still be with them as much as she could, and that she promised their father would take them to see her as often as he could. They were true to their promise; every day, at least for an hour, they went to their mother, and for those few minutes that they were together, it was as if it were all back to normal. They talked, laughed, played games, and watched plays on the brand-new black and white television in the ward. But more time passed, and the therapy Francesca had been put under made her lose her hair. She put a cap on when her family came to visit; she didn’t want to scare her children, but they didn’t sense anything was wrong, worse than usual, as much as it was. Even Theseus, who was now eight, was certain his mother was going to be home soon. Soon, their father would tell them, very soon. But soon didn’t come, and after a year of failed therapy and periodic visits, Francesca slowly slipped into a comma. The doctors assured the rest of the Diggles that they were doing their best, but that they could only now hope that Francesca responded well to the medicament, and that her state would help her recover. But George wasn’t fooled. There was nothing he could do, and he was clueless as to what to tell his children, how to deal with this alone. Francesca had always been the backbone of the family, the strong one, the mother that they needed. And now she was as good as gone. The desperation, the loneliness, the dread that consumed George was enough to drive him into depression. Dedalus was seven, Ariadne was five.

George still took them to their mother every day, to see her, talk to her, pretend that she was conscious and well, like the doctors said, encouragement from the family would help her. Maybe a trigger, something to rouse her. But it was all in vain. And still, Dedalus didn’t give up, at least. It seemed like he was the only one that hadn’t. Although he tried, George wasn’t all there anymore. He was distant from his children more now than ever, he barely spoke more than a few words, and his smiles were hollow. Theseus, who was nine at the time that it happened, by the age of ten had started getting in trouble wherever he went. The park, his friends’ houses, at home. His sister was too young to understand much, and she stayed quiet most of the time. It seemed that the only one with a level head on was Dedalus. While he understood that his mother wasn’t with them like she used to be, he could see her, he could feel her warmth, her smell, and he knew she was still there somewhere. That drove him on, gave him hope. And he understood that the last thing he would ever do would be to give up. Not if there was a breath left in his mother’s body. So he pushed his father to go to the hospital, he tried to talk to his siblings, sense into Theseus, animation into Ariadne. Sometimes it worked; most of the times it didn’t. Then Theseus went off to Hogwarts, and the house seemed emptier than ever. George got worse, remembering how the one thing Francesca had always wanted to do was see her children off to Hogwarts, to become real wizards, and she wasn’t there to witness the moment. He tried to be strong for his son’s sake, but he could barely keep it together. He had nothing to drive him. But Dedalus did. Apart from his mother, he had performing to hold on to. He had heard countless stories of his mother’s early life, what she did, how good she was at it, and had been interested in the activity since he was a toddler. His mother had taken to teaching him how to act, how to do monologues, how to sing, and Dedalus held onto that dream, that memory, the reminder that he shared something special with his mother. Broadway was something that nothing, not even cancer, could take away from them.

But his acting dreams were over when he turned eleven, and his Hogwarts letter came. By then, Theseus had been two years at the school, and was getting really good at magic, except he stayed at school for the holidays, and when he came home for the summer, barely stayed in the house. He had been given countless detentions over the years, got in trouble with the muggle police for vandalizing city property, and had been almost sent to muggle jail for having been found in acquaintance with drug inducers. George pitied his son, he tried to help him, reach out to him, but Theseus was too far gone, and he didn’t want to come back to his father. He didn’t seem to care for the world, and would only talk to Dedalus sometimes, it seemed. He preferred to stay locked up in his room, and refused to eat dinner with them. It aggravated the atmosphere more than anything ever had. Sometime Dedalus excused himself to go eat with his brother upstairs. But then he went to Hogwarts, and he saw for himself the kind of people Theseus was hanging out with. He had been sorted into Slytherin, even though he was a half-blood, and some other first year told him that all the evil pureblood wizards ended up there, and it was usually hereditary. His father had been in Ravenclaw, he knew, but maybe he was doomed to be in Slytherin, as well. He was scared for his brother, scared of his brother, and of his friends. Theseus ignored him in school, didn’t acknowledge his existence in public, and that saddened him. Sometimes, Dedalus allowed himself to cry quietly, but he never gave up. His real brother was in there somewhere; he just had to dig through some shells to find him. But Dedalus wasn’t sorted into Slytherin. Like his father, he made his way to the table on the middle left to where blue and bronze emblazoned banners hung – into Ravenclaw. There, Dedalus was instantly liked by many of his now friends, with his ease of character, and open mind to new ideas and kinds of people. But the wound his brother had dug still ached. He vowed never to let himself go like that, and to try to get his brother back. He wrote to his father, and received few letters in reply, usually short and lacking detail, but it was something. Ariadne wrote to him; she was more alone than ever, and she was slowly losing her mind with lack of attention.

It was when Dedalus was fifteen, and Ariadne thirteen, and also in Ravenclaw, that he noticed the change in her. She was no longer the quiet, shy girl that refused to speak to strangers and had little to say for herself. Ariadne had morphed into this cutting princess. She gave orders, was nasty to other girls, and flirted shamelessly with other guys. Dedalus was instantly protective of this, knowing that guys would use her, not care about her like they should, and he talked to her, warned her, but she only scoffed at him and flipped her hair in his direction as she walked away. It was like the young version of Ariadne had been replaced by this cold-hearted teenager who thought herself above and beyond everything, except he knew she really didn’t. She was scared, and was acting out like this. Dedalus was terrified. He was terrified of his brother getting in trouble and mixing with the wrong crowd, of having been witnessed as a part of some dark curse in the school. He was terrified for Ariadne, who he had found at a party once, completely smashed, leaning against a wall as a random guy that looked about five years older than her felt her up. Dedalus had calmly separated them and asked one of his girl friends to take her to her room, ignoring her protests and slurred insults his way. He was terrified for his family; for his father, his mother, his brother, his sister, and for what would happen to them if he someday could not find a way to help them. But still, he held on. He had to; he was the only one left. And he had frustration, and anger, and bitterness inside of him; this he tried to vent through puzzles. Any sort of puzzles that required two hundred percent concentration, and made him think and think and think. He used to practice puzzles like that with his father when he was little, and they helped clear his mind.

Theseus graduated and Ariadne was fourteen, and Dedalus entered his sixth year at Hogwarts. His brother had disappeared as soon as Graduation was over; the house stripped clean of all of his belongings one night, mysteriously, and they hadn’t heard from him since. Not even Dedalus, who had written to him numerous times in hope that he’d reply with his whereabouts, or not even, just to say ‘hi, I’m alive.’ But there was nothing. His mother was still in a comma, and there had been no sign of recuperation since the fateful day. George was still working long hours a day – he had to, if he wanted to maintain his family, and busied himself with that to stop from sitting down and breaking down, Dedalus could tell. But while he was at Hogwarts, he was away from all of that, and now that his brother was gone, Ariadne’s safety was the main thing on his mind.

Sample Post: –refer to Amycus Carrow, Emmeline Vance, Maylene Bell, Portia Burke, or Stefan Capper.

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{ C O N T R A C T }

I solemnly swear that I, ARTEMIS, 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.

[Lily Evans]

accepted !

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