Post by CASSIOPEIA JONES on Jun 11, 2012 13:16:22 GMT -6
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I NEED ANOTHER STORY,
[/font]I NEED ANOTHER STORY,
something to get off my chest
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CASSIOPEIA JONES[/center]
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MY LIFE GETS KINDA BORING,
[/font]MY LIFE GETS KINDA BORING,
need something that i can confess
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NICKNAMES: Cass, Cassie, Pippa
AGE: 16 years
D.O.B.: November 27, 2006 (I'm crap at math, I hope I did that right)
WAND TYPE: Willow and unicorn hair, 10 inches
HOUSE: Ravenclaw
SPECIAL ABILITIES: working toward becoming an Animagus, very close to success
CANNON OR ORIGINAL: Original
PLAY-BY: Lindsey Wixson
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’TIL ALL MY SLEEVES ARE STAINED RED,
[/font]’TIL ALL MY SLEEVES ARE STAINED RED,
from all the truth that i've said
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EYE COLOUR: Green
HEIGHT: 5'4
WEIGHT: 120 lbs
PERSONAL STYLE: None, she's a terrible dresser. Cassie is almost always to be found outdoors, so her casual "Muggle" clothes typically consist of a pair of stained jean shorts and a tank top, usually worn with yellow Wellington boots.
GENERAL DESCRIPTION: Cassie is a petite young lady with an eccentric style, but undoubtedly the most noticeable thing about her is her face. Cass has a pale, round face with large green eyes and a plump rosebud mouth. She has a small gap in her front teeth, giving her a bit of a "Mad Hatter" look. Her hair is waist length - indeed, she can tuck the ends into her belt - and reddish gold. It falls in wild, unruly waves and curls, often resulting in tangles and knots. More often than not, she has bits of twig or leaves tangled in her messy strands. She doesn't much care about her appearance, so makeup is usually left off. Her lips are so large than any amount of lipstick would make them dominate her face. She has naturally long, dark lashes, so mascara is not needed. All in all, Cassie is a very strange-looking young lady, but she does seem to possess her own unique beauty.
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THOUGHT YOU SAW WINK, NO,
[/font]THOUGHT YOU SAW WINK, NO,
i've been on the brink, so
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Animals
Nature
Tea (any kind)
Berries
Books & Reading
Care of Magical Creatures
Horseback Riding (she has horses at home)
Painting, Sculpture and Ceramics, Drawing
Knitting
Making and Creating Things
Transfiguration
Charms
CHARACTER DISLIKES:
Quiddich & Sports in General
Fashion
Makeup
Sunburns (she gets them all the time)
Being Away From Her Pets at Home
Not Being Allowed into the Forbidden Forest
School Uniforms
History of Magic
Divination
Boring/Serious People
People Who Use Magic for Everything
GOALS: To succeed in becoming and Animagus.
BOGGART: Her pets dying
PATRONUS: The day she first galloped a horse through an open field, the feeling of the wind on her hair, the notion that she was flying.
DEMENTOR: The death of her grandfather, who, along with her grandmother, raised her from the age of five.
AMORTENTIA: Horses, hay, tea leaves
BASIC PERSONALITY: Eccentric, different, animal-lover, nature-girl, highly intelligent, bookish, creative, artistic, resourceful, shy, gentle, peaceful, timid, friendly.
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AMAZING HOW WE GOT THIS FAR ,
[/font]AMAZING HOW WE GOT THIS FAR ,
it's like we're chasing all those stars
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FATHER: Walter Jones (Muggle)
MOTHER: Calliope Jones nee. Hawthorne (Muggle)
BROTHER(S): None
SISTER(S): None
OTHER: Raised by her maternal Grandparents, Lydia Hawthorne and John Hawthorne
HOMETOWN: Leeds, Yorkshire
CURRENT RESIDENCE: Beverly, East Yorkshire
BIOGRAPHY: Cassie was born in Leeds, Yorkshire, to a single mother by the name of Calliope Jones, a Muggle. The two led a busy life in the middle of the metropolitan city, living in a small flat above an Indian grocery store. Money was tight, but Calliope worked two jobs, and Cassie was often sent downstairs so the grocery owners' teenaged daughter could care for her. Growing up, Cassie never had pets, but she was great friends with the Siamese cat owned by the family next door. But her simple life was turned upside down one Winter's day, just after she had turned five years old. Her mother had been hit by a car on the way from from work, and Cassie was sent to live with her grandparents in East Yorkshire.
They lived just outside a small farming village called Beverly, on a sprawling expanse of land bordering a large forest. Old Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne had a small cottage with a barn, and the rest of their property was open fields. To cope with her life-altering move and the tragedy of her mother's death, Cassie retreated into herself, becoming shy and timid around people. She only ever felt safe and confident when she was in the barns, tending to the many animals on her grandparents' farm. As she got older, Cassie would hop on a horse and venture farther and farther away from home, exploring the forests and rivers and the surrounding countryside. Her life soon regained a sense of normality and purpose, for she lived for her animals. However, there was always something more than a little odd about the girl. It seemed that she had an uncanny way with animals, as if she could almost communicate with them. Indeed, she could have a foal trained in as little as a week. Strange things would seem to happen around the girl. Her wounds tended to heal quicker than normal children's, she seemed to have almost unnatural balance on a horse - indeed, many times her grandmother watched her nearly fall off, only to recover her balance inexplicably at the last minute. And when she did fall off, most of the time she hardly received a scratch, when the fall should've been much more damaging. Tragedy struck the girl again, though, when she was ten. Her grandfather passed away, leaving Cassie and her grandmother alone. In the summer after she turned eleven, Cassie received a letter from Hogwarts, and finally her grandmother knew why she was so different.
So off she went to Hogwarts, where she excelled in her studies - particularly Charms, Transfiguration, and Care of Magical Creatures. She became so good at Transfiguration that she learned how to transform her pet teacup pig into a very convincing cat, and so was able to bring him to Hogwarts in her fourth year. Every summer she works her grandmother's farm, herding sheep, milking cows, feeding pigs, raising and training the young horses, and having wonderful adventures with her own horse, Bluebear.
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AND EVERY DAY I SEE THE NEWS,
[/font]AND EVERY DAY I SEE THE NEWS,
all the problems that we could solve
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CHATBOX NAME: Maybe
RP EXPERIENCE: Oh god...something like 8 years.
HOW YOU FOUND US: Proboards Support
OTHER CHARACTERS: None yet.
RP SAMPLE:
The forest seemed to loom above the tiny dog like a sinister figure, all dark and gloomy and full of scary things. Her minuscule body was shaking uncontrollably, and it wasn't because of the brisk wind that ruffled the unruly, stand-up hairs atop her tiny domed head.
Twitch stepped forward tentatively, her amber eyes shifting from place to place. The forest was silent, eerie almost, except for the Chihuahua mix's heavy breathing. Tottering forth into the deep, dark woods, Twitch tightened her grip on an orphaned sock, which hung limply from the bedraggled dog's jaws. She gulped nervously, then, realizing how awful the old, dank sock tasted, she retched silently, screwing up her expressions for a moment to show her distaste. Shaking like a furry maraca, she bounded through the forest, using up every bit of courage she could muster. After what seemed only seconds, but was, in reality, a few minutes, the strange-looking dog stopped. She was in the middle of the forest, nowhere special.
Around her there were normal trees, normal rocks, normal grass, and normal dirt. Everything was normal. So why would she stop here, at this precise spot? Looming up into the sky, standing right before the ginger-colored vagabond, was a large hollow tree. She grinned through her mouthful of sock and inched her way forward, ducking her head as she trotted through an opening in the base of the tree. Even though her hiding place was completely out in the open, it went unnoticed by everyone. Mainly it was because it was a typical old hollow tree, nothing special about it. Luckily, most strays that roamed these parts were much too big to fit into the little crevice, except for Rico, Twitch's half brother, but he didn't have to know...
As she tunneled her way inside, the little oddball dropped her newest treasure at the foot of what looked to be a tiny mountain of discarded old objects. Amongst the mess there was a faded Barbie hairbrush, with white-blond hair matted in the bristles; a few rusty tin cans; two chopsticks with chow mein residue still coating the tips; an old, moth-eaten pillowcase with blue lace on the edges; and an assortment of other useless crap. Looking down at her little pile of goodies, Twitch grinned, proud of her collection.
Ever since her mother died, Twitch had this urge. It came from deep down inside of her, pressing her from somewhere deep within her subconscious. It told her to collect. Collect just about anything that tickled her fancy, which often led the stray to steal. But she just couldn't help it. She had to collect, it was the only thing keeping her from losing her mind, which many would claim she'd already lost. Twitch had never been normal, not even when her mother was alive. What with the tufty hair on her ears that stood out in all directions and her crooked, turned up snout, she was never truely accepted. And to make matters worse, she was just a little bit eccentric to boot.
Twitch stepped forward tentatively, her amber eyes shifting from place to place. The forest was silent, eerie almost, except for the Chihuahua mix's heavy breathing. Tottering forth into the deep, dark woods, Twitch tightened her grip on an orphaned sock, which hung limply from the bedraggled dog's jaws. She gulped nervously, then, realizing how awful the old, dank sock tasted, she retched silently, screwing up her expressions for a moment to show her distaste. Shaking like a furry maraca, she bounded through the forest, using up every bit of courage she could muster. After what seemed only seconds, but was, in reality, a few minutes, the strange-looking dog stopped. She was in the middle of the forest, nowhere special.
Around her there were normal trees, normal rocks, normal grass, and normal dirt. Everything was normal. So why would she stop here, at this precise spot? Looming up into the sky, standing right before the ginger-colored vagabond, was a large hollow tree. She grinned through her mouthful of sock and inched her way forward, ducking her head as she trotted through an opening in the base of the tree. Even though her hiding place was completely out in the open, it went unnoticed by everyone. Mainly it was because it was a typical old hollow tree, nothing special about it. Luckily, most strays that roamed these parts were much too big to fit into the little crevice, except for Rico, Twitch's half brother, but he didn't have to know...
As she tunneled her way inside, the little oddball dropped her newest treasure at the foot of what looked to be a tiny mountain of discarded old objects. Amongst the mess there was a faded Barbie hairbrush, with white-blond hair matted in the bristles; a few rusty tin cans; two chopsticks with chow mein residue still coating the tips; an old, moth-eaten pillowcase with blue lace on the edges; and an assortment of other useless crap. Looking down at her little pile of goodies, Twitch grinned, proud of her collection.
Ever since her mother died, Twitch had this urge. It came from deep down inside of her, pressing her from somewhere deep within her subconscious. It told her to collect. Collect just about anything that tickled her fancy, which often led the stray to steal. But she just couldn't help it. She had to collect, it was the only thing keeping her from losing her mind, which many would claim she'd already lost. Twitch had never been normal, not even when her mother was alive. What with the tufty hair on her ears that stood out in all directions and her crooked, turned up snout, she was never truely accepted. And to make matters worse, she was just a little bit eccentric to boot.
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SICK OF ALL THE INSINCERE,
[/font]SICK OF ALL THE INSINCERE,
so i'm gonna give all my secrets away
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THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY KRISAGALOYALAR@caution 2.0.
IF USING, LEAVE THIS CREDIT IN. CHANGES TO COLOURS ARE
PERMITTED, BUT DO NOT CHANGE LYRICS ("SECRETS”
ONEREPUBLIC). DO NOT STEAL OR I SHALL COME AFTER YOU! ENJOY!
IF USING, LEAVE THIS CREDIT IN. CHANGES TO COLOURS ARE
PERMITTED, BUT DO NOT CHANGE LYRICS ("SECRETS”
ONEREPUBLIC). DO NOT STEAL OR I SHALL COME AFTER YOU! ENJOY!
