Post by Rosemary Engels on May 17, 2011 15:18:00 GMT -5
Rosemary Engels
[/i]
[/center][/b] Adult.
GENERAL INFORMATION
FULL NAME: Rosemary Engels
NICKNAME(S): Rose, Rosie.
DATE OF BIRTH: November 13th, 1986
AGE: 22
LINEAGE: half-blood
WAND: Rosewood, thestral, 12"
[/ul]
APPEARANCE
HAIR: Blonde
EYES: Green
HEIGHT: 5'6
WEIGHT: 136 lbs
DETAILED:
Rose is, in many ways, the stereotypical tall, fairly thin, green-eyed blonde beauty, only she doesn’t really stand out in a crowd. Her skin very pale and her face structure is rather square-shaped for the average woman, which are the two things she dislikes the most about her body. On the other hand she has unique eyes: green, but with brownish spots near their center, which causes them to look amber under the right amount of light coming from just the right angle.
During the summer, prolonged exposition tends to make her hair tonality whiter, whereas it gets more golden during the winter, . She likes having it long –about – , and letting it wave naturally, but on bad hair days she might strengthen it or wear a ponytail so that its weight and volume doesn’t bother her. She has bangs so as to soften the shape of her face.
Her clothing style is simple: jeans and any shirt will do, allowing for shorts in the summer. She wears strappy sandals in the summer and boots in winter, and prefers to keep to discreet colors: black, white, grey, brown and beige. Her clothes are always just “proper”: she knows well what is suitable for each occasion, and that’s plain simple what she will wear: she doesn’t get any compliments or criticism for her style. On a day-to-day basis, she will grab the first shirt that’s at hand, for she has the theory that you already know it looks good on you if you decided to buy it, and that’s the end of it. You will very rarely see her wearing anything that she considers uncomfortable, which is why she dislikes wearing sweaters or coats, even in chill weather, as she feels they limit her movements too much and she hates the feeling of being constricted. This is also why she hates tight clothes.
There is a tattoo in Rose’s neck, of the silhouette of a wolf staring at a single star above it, in representation of her mother.
[/ul]
PERSONALITY
DISLIKES: Effort. Clichés. Routine. Closed-minded people. Snakes. Dirty or messy places. Being told what to do. Rude people, and bad manners in general. Big crowds. Being underestimated. Injustice.
STRENGTHS: Ingenuity, wit, good heart, has facility with charms and potions, tough exterior (makes her hard to be messed around with), understands people well.
WEAKNESSES: Her mind is so twisted she often loses track of reality. Constant need for approval. It's easy to abuse her good will. She tends to unconsciously sabotage herself. Trust issues. Procrastination and speculation. Certain intellectual pride. She's a really bad loser. She is very unstable. Cannot settle down anywhere, as she always has the urge to run away. Cannot bear little children.
ERISED: Finding a balance between her brains and her passion, success and freedom.
BOGGART: Failing.
DEMENTOR: Mother's death.
DETAILED:
Rose is rather proud of her own intelligence and talent, a pride renders her incapable of making too much of an effort to succeed at anything. Having been used to it as a child, she believes that she can and should be successful at whatever she attempts, the first time she attempt it, and if something comes too hard for her to achieve she gets very frustrated, angry, and even depressed. She cannot fail at anything. She is quite spoiled in that sense, as she has grown a great dislike for doing hard work.
She is her own worst enemy, as she never really figured out her place in life. She feels like there are two Roses: the one that is headed to a great career at the Ministry of Magic and the one who wants a simpler, effortless, life. When she was at work something in her inside would crave for freedom, when she decided to take a year off she felt a voice in her head telling her “but you could be doing so much more!”. She is now trying to resolve this minor identity crisis and find her place in life.
Although Rosemary is really good at connecting with people at a basic level, and is very outgoing, she finds it hard to connect with people more deeply, let alone trust them. Getting to know people scares her, because it means that people know her and being known means being more vulnerable. She finds it particularly difficult to control her temper around people when they point out her mistakes or contradict her, at which she will easily raise her voice. If pushed enough she can lose control completely.. and when Rose is angry nobody would like to be near. On the other hand she is very attentive and insightful, and always willing to help people even if it means putting others in front of herself: she fears hurting others more than getting hurt herself, and she tends to feel guilty easily.[/ul]
HISTORY
MOTHER: Joanne Christine Wentworth, deceased at 42 (would be 50), witch.
FATHER: John Edward Engels, 56, wizard.
SIBLINGS: None.
DETAILED:
Rose was raised in a magical but muggle-friendly environment, in the London suburbs. Daughter of a pure-blood witch and a muggleborn wizard, her childhood was balanced between both worlds, and she up understanding that not everybody’s reality is the same and she should be respectful of that. This also made her grow a permanent thirst of knowledge, of wanting to learn something from every person she met. Her mother, who had a 9-5 job that Rose never understood quite well, spent every minute she could with ‘her Rosie’ and was fully dedicated to her. Rose admired her and wanted to imitate her in everything; she was her idol. Her father was a writer for the Daily Prophet who would stay most of his time in his attic if it weren’t for his much greater love for his two little princesses. They both expected great things from her and she wanted to fulfill those expectations: she developed a great curiosity, and she even got in danger now and then because of it.
When she got to Hogwarts she found everything too easy: having observed her parents and their wizarding friends for so long, even having read through some of their books, she found most spells too familiar. She didn’t feel anything was a challenge and instead of trying to excel with her grades, she spent most of her time at Hogwarts doing nothing, sneaking into the forbidden areas of the school, getting into trouble out of boredom. During her first years at Hogwarts people often wondered how she could possibly have been sorted into Ravenclaw, when she didn’t seem so smart or interested in learning at all; she seemed more like a Slytherin to the outsiders. Still she was friends with most teachers, who often got frustrated at her because they saw her doing just as much as was asked of her, never a little bit more. They encouraged her to learn about things her own way and on her free time, which is why her advantage over her classmates persisted during the whole 7 years at Hogwarts. She knew she had talent. She knew she didn’t feel like using it. She was aware that some people resented her for that. Yet she was convinced that she could do great things, that that’s what she was meant to do. She read about the great witches in history and she wanted to take her place next to them.
When Rose was fifteen her mother Joanne was bit by a werewolf a night she went out for some fresh air. Joanne was in St Mungo’s for a month recovering from her injuries and Rose didn’t go to Hogwarts for that month. She wanted to be with her mother, wondering whether she’d lose her mother to death or to a terrible condition. In the end Joanne’s wounds turned out to be too deep and she passed.
After that John Edward Engels and his daughter became much colder. Rose suffered a mild depression that not many people could understand back at Hogwarts, and which made her lose all of her friends. She was too deep down in gloom to want to be in contact with anyone else. She would begin to skip classes, and even fail some. Her father was too immerse in his own grief and work to tell her off for that. He trusted that his daughter knew full well what she was doing with her life, and he trusted if she was letting it all go there should be a reason. She treated her as an adult, but she was only fifteen. That summer, Rose run away for two days, went to London, and tattooed a wolf on the back of her head.
The following year Rose came back to school and everything seemed to be back to normal. She smiled every now and then, with only the slightest shadow of pain in her eyes. She made everyone believe she was ok. Though she never put her heart and soul to her academic development, she did get the top OWL and NEWT grades that she needed and she left Hogwarts with her proud teachers and a promising future in the Ministry of Magic.
Not much can be said about the time after that. She spent four of the following five years doing Ministry Training, at which she succeeded but not without effort. Anything she might have learned on her own was not going to get her ahead anymore, and her pride had to suffer the idea that people could and would best her now, even when she was putting all of her energies in that. She passed her training but with a great amount of sweat, blood and tears, and she felt how that little spark, that had almost extinguished with her mom¬’s passing, now completely vanished. She still lived with her father in what was only an echo of what their relationship used to be. None of them wanted to have anyone close, they both had their separate lives. John wouldn’t leave his study and they’d speak yelling from one side of the house to the other, seldom seeing each other to the face. For all intends and purposes, they were not even living together.
During her first year actually working at the MoM, Rose had a breakdown. She realized she was just a slob, going one place to the other. She couldn’t see the beauty in things anymore. She always seemed to be somewhere else. Something inside her craved for freedom and beautiful landscapes and a non-stressful life. She had to fight against herself each morning to go to work. One afternoon her boss called her to his office and told her that she wasn’t doing any good working where she didn’t seem to want to be anymore, yet he trusted she could do it. Rose cried that her work was all she had. Eventually, she was allowed a sabbatical year until she figured out what she wanted to do. At this point, she has just got her own apartment and moved to Hogsmeade.
[/ul]
ABOUT YOU
AGE: 19
GENDER: female
TIMEZONE: (UTC-03:00) Buenos Aires
CONTACT INFO: carourioste92@hotmail.com (won’t accept random friend requests: tell me who you are and why you’re adding me).
HOW DID YOU FIND US: I was on the fourth version of the site ( I think).
EXPERIENCE: About two years, but I haven’t done this for a while.
CODEWORD: admin edit
RP SAMPLE:
Rose sighed and stepped into the fireplace to disappear in a dash of flames, to reappear in some London toilet. Would this be the last time she left the Ministry of Magic? Or would she be coming back soon? Would their keep their promise and give her back her position if and when she decided to come back? And mostly: was this a terrible mistake?
She looked at the dirty toilet seat as if it were the most precious thing she had ever seen in her life. Rose was awful at handling uncertainty, but even worse at handling goodbyes. She took a deep breath, turned and left as steadily as she could. She would not think about what she was missing. She was probably not missing anything at all. She needed this. It’s not like she was working so well lately anyway: her mind was always somewhere else and she was unable to focus at all, which is dangerous for a witch. As a gust of wind hit her face and toyed with her hair, she tried to focus on the barely visible orange sky above the muggle downtown scenario. She was free. As soon as she reached her usual corner she hid in a small space between two buildings and Dissaparated.
Home Sweet Home. She gave one step and threw herself on her bed. Aaaahhhhh!!. Her pillow muted the sound. She didn’t even turn her face to breath better; she was too exhausted, physically and emotionally, to move at all.
Closed eyes. Inhale, exhale.
Inhale, exhale.
Nice.
Something big, warm and fluffy landed on her back. She groaned and turned on the bed. Kitty…. she complained. Katherine, the cat, was staring at her almost teasingly. I know… just give me one more minute... Rose’s eyes were battling her, begging for a small nap, while the cat kept staring at her without blinking. After some seconds she began to purr. Fine!. Rose summoned all her strength and got up. She found the briefcase she had just thrown on the floor and put it away. She changed from her formalwear to more comfortable clothes, and put the first away in her almost empty closet.
She knew full well that there weren’t many things of hers in her father’s house anymore, yet she walked around the house searching, just in case. Through the windows she could now see a beautiful sunset in the London countryside. This was more like it. Muggles didn’t seem to appreciate this type of thing; maybe ignoring the existence of magic meant ignoring the magic feeling sheer beauty brings. She would miss this too. But she couldn’t stay any longer: it would get dark soon.
She walked to the back of the house, to the bottom of a very steep spiral staircase, and yelled facing upwards. Alright Dad, I’m leaving now!. From the study above came back a similar was returned: Ok, hun, good luck! Don’t forget to write. This was her main way of communicating with her father. Many people found it impersonal and awful that they seemed to spend so little time together, at least face to face, but she liked it that way. They had their spaces. And they were very close in their own way. They knew they loved each other, there was no need to be reminding each other of that just because one of them was leaving, after all. Any relationship of any type was all about keeping prudent distances.
She went back to her room and took out her wand. After locating her bag, she muttered a spell and it shrunk at least ten times its size, to that of a small handbag. She smiled: it was nice to know she still had her touch for some things. She picked up the miniature bag with her left hand, with which she held her wand too, and picked Kitty up with her right arm. The cat smiled and rested her head between Rose’s shoulder and neck; it wouldn’t like what was coming next.
A few seconds later they were in the streets of Hogsmeade and Kitty’s claws were hurting Rosalie’s chest. The witch dropped the cat not too carefully in annoyance and treaded down the street. She smiled. A new life awaited.[/ul][/size][/blockquote]
