Post by Alice Pearce on Jun 16, 2006 21:35:17 GMT -5
Name: Alice Lyn Pearce (I’ve played her before and this is the name I normally use. I can change it if you like…)
Nicknames: By her friends Ali. Others just plain Pearce. Why are you on a last name basis with her with her?
Age: 15
Blood: Pureblood
Birthday: January 24th
House: Gryffindor
Any ability or special blood type you have aka vampire, veela, werewolf, etc.:
Not that I’m aware of…
Personality (At least 1 paragraph):
Alice tends to have a short temper at times, though is generally quite benevolent and charming. She has an alluring, cheeky side to her otherwise almost shy visage, her usual, insignificant smile masking the real personality within. You can walk by this girl and think you’ve got her figured out, but (as Frank surely found out, XD) you’re in for a surprise, ‘cause sweetheart, looks can be so poisonously deceiving that sometimes it’s almost amusing to see someone so confused.
Alice can be a very mouthy sometimes (ahem - most times), and easily gets hurt if someone she cares for is treated badly.
Personal History (2 paragraphs):
Alice led a rather quiet life before she was presented with the letter that fateful day sometime after her eleventh birthday. Though she was a pure blood witch, she grew quite accustomed to her life in a Muggle area, suburban, somewhere just south of London. She grew up with a south London accent, and always had a clear, precise tone.
Her life, as I said, had been quiet. She lived in a small house with her mother and sister, Diane and Hester, (father unknown) and spent her time in the local public library, taking up a fascination with all sorts of Muggle books, especially taking a liking to Shakespeare, who, as she found out, was a particularly famous guy in Muggle society. Apart from pouring over musty books of spells and literature, Alice was fond of simply walking around, thinking, admiring the view. Yet when she came to Hogwarts, she undertook a slight change; for the better or worse, it was at first unclear.
The first noticeable thing that changed was her perception of herself; for instance, she became more self-conscious, what with the hair and all that good stuff, and she became a little (and I stress, a little) more mischievous than usual, though her naturally kind nature stayed put. She took up an interest it men, which of course was to be expected, yet still rather shocking to her mother and older sister when it came across. Something of a more trivial matter that changed was on the subject of her pet name, Ali. Alice decided one day to announce, while at home, that she would prefer just to be called Alice, and that Ali was outdated and for children. The matter was not brought up again, however, if people attempted calling her that, she’d fix them with a sullen glare for around a week.
Anyways, Alice’s life was rather predictable after that. She got a boyfriend or two, nothing serious, developed a slight crush on Frank Longbottom (who, she found out, shared her feelings, and displayed it in a far more obvious manner than her, i.e. making a fool of himself whenever she was around, yet as Alice was a coward on the matter of personal feelings for other beings she kept pretty much quiet about the whole situation), and discovered a knack for herbology and defense against the dark arts.
In her fourth year, tragedy struck for Alice and Hester; their mother was murdered, accidentally, by a group of Death Eaters. Hester, a graduate of Hogwarts and nineteen at the time, found them a comfortable apartment in north London, where they took up residence, with Hester working for the ministry and keeping them afloat on her reasonable salary. Alice hates touching onto her subject of her mother, and usually refuses to answer any questions about her, though most of her feelings and emotions are stored in the back of her mind, dormant.
Appearance (1 paragraph and/or picture):
Alice has never really had an overly slim figure; she’s always had a bit of a tummy, though not much, however, she retains a simple sense of prettiness that puts most other things aside. Her flaws are many, though going into them would be greatly boring, therefore only one or two shall be stated.
Since the age of around twelve, Alice decided that her natural, sandy brown hair was a god given curse, and drastic action was to be taken. So quite promptly, around two months after the decision that her hair was a monstrous colour, Alice dyed it. This, many considered a good move; the contrast of ash blonde with a touch of dark brown highlights suited her, the waves of her new tresses framing her round, friendly face quite nicely. From then on, Alice’s hair remained this interesting combination of two or more colours, and everything was peachy and fine.
Spot outbreak at fourteen; you need no detail for this, apart from that she survived the torment, having reasonably unblemished skin from there on, with the occasional zit that she viciously stamped out; not for the sake of looking good, but because spots on her usually were simply uncomfortable and made her sense of hygiene feel depreciated. On the subject of skin, Alice’s colour had always been a milky, rose tinted shade, her cheeks a little more rosy, and a very, very, very pale spattering of freckles over her nose. Generally, Alice had always loved her skin tone, as it made her feel somewhat delicate.
Another part of her Alice has also always liked were her eyes. They were fabulous eyes. The hue was a simple kind of mixture of blue and grey, but incredibly pale, with a slightly warm glow to them that seemed fairly unnatural for a colour that made you think more of ice.
(Also, see graphic in signature. =D)
Hobbies: Hanging out near the lake, spending time with Lily, self-consciously flirting with Frank.
Likes:
Carrots
Dogs
Cats
Reading
Herbology
Noise
Boys
Friends
Laughing
Horse riding
Dislikes:
Sprouts
Potions
Broomsticks (when she’s on them, at least)
Toads
Spiders
Most Slytherins
Silence
Role play Sample(2 good formed paragraphs please!):
The morning was crisp, the sun shining weakly through her frosted windows. Her eyes opened in a fluttery manner usually associated with princesses and fair maidens of fairytales, running a hand sleepily through her tangled hair. Alice Pearce propped herself up on her elbows, glancing around her room bleary eyed and curiously. She rolled her shoulders, wincing at the loud crack they made; clearly her sleep had been restless. Pushing back her covers (she noticed they were a lot thicker than usual), Alice slid inelegantly off her bed, stumbling across to the window, looking out at the icy, empty streets below. What made this whole scene very strange was the fact that she had expected to wake up to a dieing summer, not a coming winter. This didn’t look like September.
Alice shrugged offhandedly, dismissing the matter. Most things were peculiar these days. The weather was nothing to fret about. At least, not yet. As she passed her full-length mirror, she stopped, taking a moment to look herself up and down. Hmm. It was looking good; she seemed to have slimmed slightly over the summer. Well, her excessive horse riding had really kind of helped, so it was an inevitable consequence. A nice one too. Once again, the fifteen year old noted something out of place; she was wearing a long, silk nightgown with lace straps. Scrunching up her face thoughtfully, Alice plodded into the kitchen, her feet numbing slightly when coming on contact with the cold floor. She wasn’t up to worrying about her sudden fashion changes that seemed to have occurred overnight.
Finally, Alice managed to find a sthingy (for a third time, it was odd; there were always sthingys lying around somewhere in the kitchen), and she munched on a bowl of bran flakes, leaning on the kitchen counter, wondering what the new year would bring. Her brow remained furrowed, though, when she realised that the cereal going into her mouth didn’t actually taste of anything. And when Frank Longbottom paraded into the kitchen wearing an outfit you’d class with an Italian Casanova, Alice also realised that she was dreaming.
Again.
Now that she’d woken up properly, with vibrant, late summer sun streaming through her open windows, wearing the right pyjamas (a classy little pink camisole with matching shorts), Alice repeated what she had started in her dream, tripping over her trunk on the way, as Hester had parked it right outside her door. Alice, being unaware of the danger ahead, had opened her bedroom door, swearing loudly as she toppled over with a dull thud. Gingerly picking herself up, she heard a muffled shout come her sister’s bedroom.
“Ali, shut up please! I still have an hour or so of sleep… you’re taking a cab to King’s Cross, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, lazy bones!” Alice replied, rolling her eyes affectionately. Being a junior auror meant little sleep for Hester, and Alice had learnt to get used to her sister’s grouchy self in the mornings. It was a routine; something she had grown used to.
---
King’s Cross Station was literally made of noise. The central London scent had filled Alice’s nose, and the abundance of people on the station brought a broad smile to her face. Dragging her trunk along behind her, Alice was quick to dodge people in her way, keeping an eye out for familiar faces. A pair of girls from Ravenclaw waved to her, and she waved back, checking no one was watching her as she disappeared through the barrier.
Platform Nine and ¾ was even more packed than the rest of the station, it seemed. Making her way through the crowds, murmuring apologies to whoever owned the feet she stepped on, Alice let out a comical breath once she reached the actual train, shoving her trunk roughly on board, chivalrously helped by a tall Gryffindor boy, probably in his seventh year. Thanking him, Alice swung around, heading for the front of the train, in search for an empty compartment. When she finally found one, she let out a joyful squeal, literally leaping in, settling herself by a window, and getting comfy.
Her sleep had been limited, and even though the train wasn’t moving, Alice began to, very rapidly, fall into a light sleep, a smile left on her face as she did, her expression content.
