Tristan Leo Adams

[tristan]

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About You - -

Name: Bird
Gender: the only Male
Age: 17
Years of RPG Experience: Five Months
Other: Removed by Admin

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Quick Quiz - -

How did you find us? This scary woman named Biz.
What about ISS inspired you to join? The Scary woman named Biz made me. -wink-
Do you have any suggestions for us? Nada.

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About the Character- -

Name: Tristan Leo Adams
Age: Sixteen
Gender: Male
Year: Fifth
Face Claim: Taylor Lautner

Canon or Original? Original


Facial Properties:

Usually, if one were searching for the right guy or girl, they’d be looking for that ‘charm‘. The charm that will swoon them into love. A charm is the thing that catches a person’s attention, and draws them in. Typically, a person works their charm with the way they talk and act. Tristan does not need words for his charm. It’s all in his face. Looking at Tristan as he walks the halls, he get’s head turns and girly giggles almost daily. His face has never failed him for anything. His milky chocolate eyes that dive deep into yours. His pug nose that works agilely with the rest of his face. His thick jaw structure that only juts out slightly, flowing towards his plump lips. All of these factors only begin to describe his charm. Of course, Tristan doesn’t acknowledge any of the fact that his face is quite cute. He absolutely hates arrogance. That doesn’t excuse the fact that his features are striking to others. His brows are furrowed closely to his almond eyes, and are usually raised high, or scrunched low, inquisitively. He only rarely has a slight, faded patch of stuble above his lip, and his chin has a rather noticeable dip in it. His ears are normal, as is his forehead and cheeks alike, and his hair is usually up and quaffed in a dark disarray. On a good day, the light will hit it and it will shine just as he likes it.


Physique:

In one unoriginal sentence: Ridiculous, obnoxious amounts of muscle. There is no denying that Tristan has excessive amounts of muscle. This comes from his irregular need to work out. Tristan isn’t a perfect human being, and thinks far too much for his own good. To get things off of his mind, he exercises indulgently. With his love of food, and his love for a good work out, his body has manifested itself into a burly, bulging, and relatively compelling physique. With incredible biceps, his shoulders stretch heavily outwards. His arms are long, and his hands have always been too big compared to the rest of him. Tristan’s waist is small, yet his abs puff out from his belly at a constant flex, as well as the bulge of his pecks. His strong legs are actually rather short, but his long torso makes up for the length; standing at 5’10”. Tristan’s skin has a dark complexion to it. Since his mother had a surrogacy, she decided that she didn’t want to see what the father looked like, but only his personality. Obviously the donor was some sort of Indian, because Tristan’s skin has a very light, dusty, brown/red pigment to it.




Wand Type: 12 Inch polished black Ash :: Veela hair Core
Wand Expertise: Transfiguration :: Potions
Patronus: Ural Owl - Tristan has always been interested in owls, even before he knew that owls were the mass way of letter and packaging transportation in the Wizarding world. His fascination originated when he was a baby. The family owl, Pebbles, was extremely over protective of Tristan. If any one was going to go into the room to see him, they’d have to pass Pebbles first.
Boggart: Infinite - Tristan has a hard time grasping the fact of Infinite. As much as he has tried to understand the universe, his mind can never comprehend the fact that things could go on for forever.


Personality:

Always in

A battle

[/b]

“Don’t worry Tristan, follow me. I’m right.”

[/color][/left]

“No, Tristan. With me, together we’re on top. We’re right.”

[/color][/right]

“Tristan, don’t listen to him. He’s wrong. He’s only going to tear you down more. . .”

[/left][/color]

“Don’t listen to that bitch, Tristan. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

[/color]

**FC for his Id is Jack Black
**FC for his Superego is Isla Fisher

The complexity of Tristan’s mind is overwhelming. It’s not, in it’s entirety, completely complex. Yet it does have it’s good and bad. And the good and bad are literally there. His over-active Id, and his over-active Superego. Within Tristan’s mind, and only in Tristan’s mind, are there two physical beings that he can actually see. On his right, is a fat, balding, childish, squeamish, loud, obnoxious, and fairly inappropriate man. His eyes bulge with intoxication of the world, and he dances on the balls of his feet. On his left, is a beautiful and elegant, preach full and extremely nice, yet very condescending fiery red head that could be described as a mother figure/good friend with compelling, puppy eyes. These are Tristan’s Id and Superego. Or, in other terms, his Devil and Angel. Now, to any other normal person, if they knew that Tristan actually saw these people, then they’d think that he was an insane person who should be suffering from schizophrenia. Yet, Tristan actually handles these two quite well. In fact, to any other person looking from the outside, Tristan is one of the most individual and completely original and normal wizards out there.

“It only counts if you make them happy too.”

[/left][/color]

“Can’t you just be mean? Go hex the wizard with the high trousers"

[/right][/color][/blockquote]

Tristan is a fairly happy person. His mother has had a lot of influence on this aspect of his life. This is where his superego comes into full force. His Id has almost no say in things when the motherly aspect of Tristan’s mind comes in. Tristan’s mother is very into equality and diversity, and taught Tristan well. Tristan feels that there will always be two sides to things, and if you don’t hear both, you’re unfair. In any situation. Usually his Superego comes in and helps him with this. Of course, there’s always the balancing effect. If the Id has something to say, he’s going to listen to it. But usually in happy matters, the Superego is always right. It’s in Tristan’s nature to be happy. He actually finds no sense in being mad or sad. There are times where he get’s upset with himself, and get’s mad at individuals, but it all comes down to being happy. He gets over things far too easily. A slight burden in his personality. But other than that, he is an all around happy and caring person. He actually finds pleasure in making others happy, too. So anything that’ll cheer someone up, he’s all for it. If it’s not too much out of his way, he’ll do it.

“There’s no denying I’m the right one, Tristan. This won’t turn out well.”

“She’s a complete idiot, unlike yourself. You’re smart. You should know I’m always right.”

[/right][/I][/blockquote]

The one thing Tristan can’t stand about the two.
The are constantly fighting, and constantly arrogant. Tristan hates arrogance. No, it’s more than that. He despises it. There is no reason for anyone on this earth to be going around gloating about things. It’s all in the fact that, even if you are better at some things, or are right with this one thing, there are more things that you are worse at. There is no denying the fact that everyone is wrong or worse in other places. We all have faults, we all have fears and are insecure with things. All of us. So why are you playing off the bad things of other people, when you yourself have things to be ashamed of? This is the constant battle that goes on in Tristan’s mind. As said before, he cannot stand this aspect. Every waking moment the two are fighting with each other. Even in his dreams. His Id is obviously wrong a lot of the time, and fairly conceded. But his Superego is also very controlling and harsh in judgment, and she herself isn’t so lenient when it comes to right and wrong. So, in retrospect, arrogance isn’t something Tristan is a fan of. If there is ever a moment to slide out of, or a person to escape from, it’s most likely because of their arrogance.

“You really shouldn‘t be drinking that. . .”

“C‘mon. Have a little taste. Have a little fun. . .”

[/right][/I][/blockquote]

Tristan is a very fun person. He loves to let loose and have a good time. He’s a social butterfly, and extremely lovable. His zany personality is always up for something new, and makes him one of the most loved people to be around. On occasion, he likes to be crazy. Something that involves a scheme is definitely a “go”. In other words, he loves pulling pranks on people. He’s very creative and will do anything for a good laugh. One notable thing is his laugh. He’s always had a unique laugh. In a medley of words, it’s raucous, quirky, jumpy, contagious, uneven, shallow yet deep at times, and completely noticeable. If he starts laughing hard, he wheezes. That is one great thing to note about Tristan, if any thing besides his looks will draw you in, it’s his laugh. It’s sincerely warm and welcoming, yet completely free and obnoxious. So when it comes to fun, his laugh is a definite priority in the fun. If he’s not laughing, something is wrong. His cuteness is overwhelming in a sense that he’s unbearably squeezable. And in that sense, it’s comical to watch, seeing as he’s the most buff person anyone’s ever come across. He likes to think of himself as a social cuddle bear.

“Do not do anything to jeopardize your image.”

“If it‘s a game you‘re looking for, aren‘t you there to win?”

[/right][/I][/blockquote]

Tristan is competitive. Even if he doesn’t show it, he is. His Id and Superego go crazy during any sport that he chooses to play. This is when the real battle comes into play. As much as he hates to admit it, when Tristan get’s into the zone of the game, he can’t get out. He wants to win. Obviously he’s going to win fair, and loyal to whatever he’s playing. But if it’s anything he want’s, it’s to win. This also comes into play when he cooks. Tristan has an enormous passion for cooking, and hopes to do something with it in his future. Whether it be beating out a recipe he’d uncovered in the library, making it better, or coming up with his own to beat out his mothers own home cooking, he wants it to be the best. He’s very creative when it comes to food. He’s always dreamed of helping the house elves out with some of the feists. Tristan has multiple recipes scattered around the frilled pages of his journal, and most of them are very good. Tristan is very good at cooking. Yet, he still does have a challenge keeping the arrogance out of his mind while this happens, but overall he keeps it under control.

Likes:

+ Cooking
+ Girls
+ Diversity
+ Grass
+ The Sky
+ Flying
+ His Laugh
+ Water
+ Potions
+ His Owl- Pebbles
+ Sketching
+ Running
+ Lifting Weights
+ His Family
+ His Horse
+ Glass
+ Trees
+ People
+ Love
+ Blankets
+ Winter
+ Sports
+ Pictures
+ Muggle Television
+ Home
+ Unbiased thinking
+ His bed
+ His Ring

Dislikes:
– Flies
– Feet
– Arrogance
– Prejudice
– Dogs
– Writing
– Fights
– Ignorance
– Dirt
– Flat Pillows
– Long Letters
– Orange Juice
– Heavy books
– Muggle Stationary
– Dancing
– Jerks
– Airplanes
– Boats
– Lightning
– Deaths
– Glasses
– Mornings
– Homework
– Bodily noises
– Red Things
– Computers
– Apricots
– The thought of Infinite
– Fish
– Dirty things

History:

Once Upon A Time

[/b][/I]


^ChapterONE

Meredith Adams

Not all children are adopted. Not all children know who they are at a young age. Not all adopted children get to meet their biological parents when they are halfway through Wizard school. And not all children are sworn to secrecy from the world, let alone their parents.

Meredith Adams was certainly not at all like other children.

At the age of five, Meredith Adams was adopted by a poor Wizard couple. Alyssa and David. Not having much money, she grew up in slight poverty until she was in her fourth year at Hogwarts school of Witch Craft and Wizardry.

Then her biological parents stepped into her life, funding anything and everything Meredith needed. Meredith couldn’t of been happier when she heard the news that she was finally going to meet her real parents. Meredith always put herself down for thinking like that, saying (in her mind) her ‘“real” parents.’ There was always the guilt of thinking like that when she thought about Alyssa and David, but they understood that it was different. Alyssa, completely understood, however, that Meredith was going to be happy. She was finally going to meet the people that brought her into this world. Alyssa only dreaded the fact that she didn’t know what these people were going to be like. The whole family was anticipating the day that they would shake hands and hug Meredith’s real parents, and as Alyssa had expected, they were all let down just the same. Meredith’s parents were nothing that she had hoped for. They were rude. They were hostile. And they were snobbish.

It took her years to get used to their behavior. Slowly and surely, they leaked their proper and snoody lives into Meredith’s. Telling her all the things they believed right and wrong.
Years after the day that Meredith finally had met them, she sat wondering what to do.

There were things that her real parents did not know about her, and Meredith worried consistently of the day she would have to tell them. Tell them everything.

Among all of the things that Meredith Adams was most worried of telling her biological parents about, the biggest one she struggled with was telling them she was a witch. Before Meredith ever got the chance to tell her biological family she was a wizard, her mother had told her that she herself was a squib. The only squib out of her entire family. Meredith could not describe the hatred that she saw her mother detest when it came to the family she grew up with. The woman hated her own family, out of pure jealousy, all just because she was a Squib. When Alyssa had told Meredith that she was in fact adopted, she knew that it would be a struggle telling her real parents she was a wizard. It wasn’t that it was only because she was a wizard. But there were far too many consequences that added into her decision. A large factor, as inhuman and completely UN-Meredith like to do, she was very concerned about the cut off of the money her parents were giving her. She knew that, in time, she’d get over that aspect, and realize that life is better without money, but she knew that she needed it for far more important things.

Meredith could not have children. Well, she could. But Meredith did not have anyone to have a child with. Meredith was twenty seven years old and, all of her life, she was different. Meredith had never stopped being picked on and beaten down for liking Nancy Forester in her second grade muggle class rather than Davy Stulp, the dreamy kid who sat in first row. Meredith was different, and didn’t let that change her life one bit. She had thought for herself her entire life, and her sexual orientation wasn’t/couldn’t change just because she was out of the social ‘norm’. That was thought different by her biological parents. Meredith had always remembered her parents making striking remarks against the gay population, and knew now that if she told her parents she was a witch, and gay, that her parents would not fund the Surrogacy she was planning on getting. This was why Meredith had waited until after her Surrogacy was under way. She was two months pregnant with baby Tristan, when she decided to come out to her parents. The day she did that, was the last day that she had ever talked to them.

Meredith had her adoptive parents, but she was older, alone, and now poor. Meredith fled the country, making life for herself.

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^ChapterTWO

The House

Meredith found refuge in Ireland. There, in the final days of her pregnancy, she built a house.

With only select clothes on her back and her wand, Meredith began construction on the most unique house she’d ever seen. She wanted it perfect for her baby Tristan. Day and night, she worked on it and added onto it. It started as just a one bedroom cabin, plopped right in the center of a pond, shadowed by thick green trees in the east, and a bare, clear view of the sunset in the west. The house magically floated on the water, and giant stepping stones littered a path cluttered with lily pads all the way to the rickety front door. The ground and forest around the house was adversely colorful. There were thousands and thousands of flowers and greeneries inhabiting the land around it, and it gave the whole area a luminescent spectrum of light. The colors shot all over the place, and it made the place truly beautiful. The outer structure of the house didn’t give any head to what was on the inside. The house itself was actually perfectly straight, but the waters around it make it appear to be lopsided. Two stories high, it sat lightly with a wrap around porch, and fourteen windows. On the inside, however, the house wrapped tightly up and down, with different levels in each room, all hard wood and light greens. Meredith couldn’t of asked for a better made house. It was perfect for her baby. Every year, Tristan comes home to a brand new addition to the house. Whether it be a new paint job on the outside, or a new room that can only be seen from the inside, he’s more amazed with his mother every time he sees it. Eventually, the house had accumulated into more and more land, and officially had a pasture, a barn off in the field one hundred yards from the pond, a boat house on the giant river close to their house, and a make-shift Quidditch pitch.

The house had a large affect on Tristan’s childhood, and his upbringing. His admiration for his mother never ceased, and his adventure side surely came from the roots of the Adams house. There were far too many nooks and crannies for him not to have turned out adventuress. The other aspect of the house that made him who he is, is the enchantment. There’s a feeling that the house gives off. A feeling of love. Maybe a feeling of comfort. All in all, he knew that the only way he could feel that love, was because his mother took all her time into making it for him. And for that, he appreciated his mother more than she could imagine. His mother was a hero, and extremely giving, and the house and warmth that she provided gave Tristan the courage to listen to her. It made him attentive, and gave him a big heart. In the end, he knew that the enchantment of the house was just a branch of his mothers love, and that took a large part in the formation of the boy known as Tristan Leo Adams.

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^ChapterTHREE

Lindsay

Lindsay was three years older than Tristan when she came into Meredith and Tristan’s life. Meredith had woken up one morning when she heard her baby crying loudly. The cry wasn’t a normal cry. Something was wrong with Tristan. When she had ran into the room to see what was wrong, Tristan wasn’t the one that was crying. Meredith frantically searched her house for the source of the noise, and finally had discovered who it was. Meredith had just busted out of the front door, and the screaming and crying stopped. She looked around. A toddler was there. Three years old, and hiding under one of Meredith’s hand crafted chairs. Someone had magically casted the stone path away so she could not escape. Her heart had dropped as she gazed at the girl. She was beautiful. Her large chocolate eyes looked hurt and distressed. The look of shock had saturated the baby girls face, and soft tears were leaking down her silky white skin. Meredith walked to the girl tenderly. At first, the girl screamed and hid from Meredith, but after awhile, the girl grew used to her, and let her come up close. Through further investigation, Meredith found a note. The note explained who the baby girl was, and where she came from. Her name was Lindsay, and she was from America. It further explained that she was a witch, and that the parents could not keep her any longer. Meredith couldn’t make assumptions, but Lindsay had bruises all over her frail body. Her white bones had shown through her skin gingerly, and there was a large gash in her back: still bleeding. Meredith didn’t think twice, and accepted her into the family. The years passed, and Meredith confirmed that Lindsay was indeed a witch. On her first birthday in the house, she’d created a dragon made of fire with her birthday candles. Lindsay grew up along side Tristan at school, and was accepted into the family.

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^ChapterFOUR

Tristan

Tristan Leo Adams was always a soft spoken boy. His mother was the opposite, and his sister was right in the middle. Together, they made up a perfect family. Growing up, Tristan was taught by his mother to love, and to accept love. He was taught that people were always going to have their own opinions, and that he should respect each and every one of them. Never be biased, and always accept anyone into your life. That was the philosophy they lived by, and they never let each other down. Tristan was never sheltered by his mother. He was always turned loose, and was able to run around the land he owned whenever he wanted. If he wanted to spend the entire day on the boat down the river, then he would. He was a free spirit, just as long as he lived by his own beliefs, and respected anyone else’s. That was why he loved his mother so much, and she loved him right back. Life was good, and life was easy. As Tristan grew, so did his home and his family bonds. He became very close to Lindsay, and had developed something much more than family members with her. They were best friends, and did everything together. Every summer, they had a list of the things they needed to accomplish. And every summer, that list had a messy scribble through every sentence, marking the fact that they had completed it. Each list, ever since he was five, has been posted on his bedroom wall, right next to the windowsill with all of his photographs and favorite sketches framed. And each list had been completed, except the last one.

There was one more thing that had not been completed, and never could.

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^ChapterFIVE

The Wishing Lilies

The last list still hangs looming on Tristan’s wall.
Unfinished.

Tristan and Lindsay were out on the boat. Lindsay was basking in the sun, as Tristan played his guitar lightly. He watched her, and admired her. His envy of his older sister was overwhelming. She was so free. So open, and so caring. No matter what. Just like his mother. He wanted to be like her. He wanted to feel how they feel, but just assumed that adolescence and time would choose when he was ready. The air was thick with heat and moisture. He was just wiping a bead of cold sweat off of his forehead, when Lindsay had turned around and asked him what he was playing. Tristan wouldn’t tell her, and she became upset. It wasn’t just because he was shy, and it wasn’t because it was private. It was because it was for her. The song he was playing lazily was a song he was writing for Lindsay. The only reason he did not want to tell her, was because he was not finished, and he wanted to surprise her with it. He had only wanted it to be perfect. When she had stopped taunting him for the answer, they heard it. Lightning. It was raucous and loud, screeching across the river. Lindsay had actually screamed. Realizing a storm was blowing in, Tristan turned the boat on and they made their way back to the house. Tristan’s heart was sinking lower and lower as they both realized the house wasn’t as close as they had expected, and it had started to rain. It poured heavily on them as they tried to see where they were going. If it was fate that ruined Tristan’s life, then he figured fate could go to hell. As they zoomed the old boat across the water, lightning struck a large tree hanging over the path of the boat. Tristan heard steal rip and Lindsay scream as the boat was torn apart. He was only able to see his hand in front of him, but he did not need eyes to know what had happened. He heard it all. There was a splash as he heard Lindsay fall into the water. Her drowning cries were wrenching through the sound of the rain pouring deeply into the water. Tristan couldn’t of known what else to do, besides jump into the water. It was a stupid idea. Tristan couldn’t see anything as he searched the waters reverently for his sister. The sobs had stopped, and all he could hear now was the rain.


The funeral was minimal. And there was no casket.


Tristan has never stopped listening to the rain.

There’s a feeling that Tristan will always get when it rains. It’s not sorrow. It’s not anger. It something that he himself can not describe. The only thing that he can say, is that it gives him strength. Any time it rains at home, him and his mother pick the lilies surrounding the pond and take them to the river. One by one, they throw them into the water, and make wishes. They have never asked for something out of reach, but what they do wish for, has never halted to come true.

The last time that Tristan was at the river throwing the Wishing Lilies for Lindsay, his wish didn’t come true. His heart beat raced and his anger shot through him. All he wanted was her. He wanted Lindsay back. He wanted life to restore itself. He wanted fate to turn back time. He wanted her.

He wanted to finish their list.

Meredith kneeled next to Tristan’s thrashing body on the cold, wet ground, and said.

“Baby.
There isn’t a way to bring her back. There’s no way. We can only remember that there’s two sides to everything. Baby? Listen to me.

There are places I remember all my life,
Though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some have gone and some remain.
All these places have their moments
Of lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I loved them all.

We can’t stop loving Tristan, or one side will take over. You can’t give in.

There’s going to be anger in your heart….there’s going to be distrust and hatred. And then there’s going to be love, and acceptance, and you can never let one fall into the other. You must not be ignorant. You need to listen to them. You need to hear them out. They aren’t there for no reason. They mean something, and whatever you do, you have to accept that they’re both going to be there. Just listen to both sides.

and listen to your heart. . .”

Tristan’s Id and Superego started here.

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And Finally - -

I, Bird, have read the rules, understand clearly what my responsibilities are now that I am joining ISS, and will abide by these standards set by the staff.[/color][/blockquote]

[Professor Albus Dumbledore]

ACCEPTED !