Post by Merle Shepherdson on May 24, 2011 3:24:32 GMT -5
Merle Shepherdson
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[/center][/b] Merle Shepherdson
GENERAL INFORMATION
NICKNAME(S): Ecce, Shep
DATE OF BIRTH: August 5th, 1994
AGE: 17
YEAR: Seventh
HOUSE: Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Gryffindor
LINEAGE: "Halfblood", though there is no way to prove he's not pureblood
WAND: Yew, Dragonheartstring, 11 inches
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APPEARANCE
HAIR: Brunette
EYES: Emerald
HEIGHT:6'
WEIGHT: 175
DETAILED: Merle Shepherdson is not imposing. Not in the least. Even though he is six feet tall, he is skinny and thin as a rail. What little muscle tone he has is barely visible, especially since he wears conservative clothing most of the time. His skin is decently pale for his hobbies, and smooth to the touch. He isn't especially hairy and can often be heard complaining about how he can't grow a beard at all!
He barely weighs 175 pounds and you can certainly see his ribs when he breathes. He isn't malnourished, by any means. He eats well, when he does. He just can't gain weight, not even muscle weight. His lankiness is often hidden by the amount of clothes he wears and their usual dark color.
His eyes are almond shaped and his irises are a dark emerald color. He has dark brunette hair that is quite fine and reaches his neck. He runs his hands through it throughout the day to fend off tangles, but sometimes it doesn't work, leading to him muttering curse words as he pulls tangles out.
He has a confident gait and when he is in a good mood, there's a distinct spring in his step. If he's angry, normally his hands will find their way into his pockets and his head will bow downwards to watch the path he's walking. He tends to walk a bit faster and with more purpose when angry.
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PERSONALITY
DISLIKES: Fried Catfish, English Food, Racism, Religion, Dry Counties, Mermaids, Big Cities,
STRENGTHS:Astronomy, Science, MagiZoology, Animal Magnetism (not literal).
WEAKNESSES: Magic, Expressing Emotion, Communication, Alcohol, Arrogance
ERISED: Family -- A beautiful wife, heavy with child.
BOGGART: Helplessness -- Being unable to protect his loved ones.
DEMENTOR: The slow, agonizing loss of his grandmother to dementia.
DETAILED: Merle Shepherdson is at first glance, aloof and rude. What most people may see as being a jerk ignoring others, it is in fact just his own introspection. He is lost in his own world most of the time. He is polite, however, to a fault when engaging in conversation. A perfect gentleman, often getting himself in trouble with other men, thinking he is coming onto their women -- which is almost never the case. With his friends, he is warm and friendly, and often jokes openly with them. He is often the person standing on the sidelines in a conversation, watching and waiting to unleash a witty anecdote upon the unsuspecting masses. Science is his true love. It's his lifeblood, and his reason for being.
He loves learning, and will go out of his way to learn at least one new thing every day. He is often seen taking notes or drawing pictures of plants in a little journal he keeps in his pocket at all times. This journal is comprised of various notes he takes on little observations he makes throughout his days. Sometimes, he'll just write a page of music, if something catches his ear or he has an idea for a composition. One thing he is in the bad habit of is letting his overdue library books rack up an account. He's a little absent-minded about things like that. The big things in life, and the things that really matter, though, he seems to have figured out (for the most part!).
He's really aloof and hard to converse with at first. He just doesn't know how to talk to people. Sure, he can make small talk like a boss, but he doesn't exactly enjoy it. And it definitely shows. He doesn't have a temper, but clearly he becomes bored with the typical social drabble that was instilled in him by general society. If you manage to stumble into a topic he is interested in, though, heaven forbid -- you might never get him to shut up. He may seem all logic and nothing else on the outside, but he is definitely a romantic at heart -- as long as you can tear down or climb that wall of his
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HISTORY
MOTHER: Kareina Shepherdson, 40, "Halfblood"
FATHER: Marlin Shepherdson, 39 Pureblood
SIBLINGS: None
DETAILED: Merle grew up on a farm in Tennessee, out in the boondocks. The next neighbor was at least twenty miles away. And that was a good thing. Because you see, it wasn't an ordinary farm he lived on. His parents had been working on dragon conservation efforts for years, and, in addition to dragons, they had quite a few other dangerous creatures on their property, most of them rescue cases.
When he was eight, he was given something incredibly special -- a dragon egg. You see, one of the female drakes they had thought was too old to lay . . . well, she had a clutch. The only egg that hatched was the one that Merle watched over. He hand raised the drake, becoming quite close to it. It is probably the tamest dragon in the world. This experiment of his father's, letting his son tame a dragon, appeared to have gone quite well.
He grew up sheltered from most muggles, having friends only in his many cousins that would come visit quite often. His father and mother were both very well educated and taught him most of the things he would need to get into an actual school somewhere. He also learned quite a bit from his grandmother before she passed away, but what he learned from her tended to be basic survival skills -- how to live without magic. Being a mongrel is something that has never occurred to him.
When he was eleven, a letter came in the mail requesting that he actually go to school. Real school. Wizarding school. Unlike most children, Merle did not look forward to going to school at Hogwarts -- he'd have to be away from his precious Nanto for months at a time. He trudged through his years at Hogwarts -- well, that's not necessarily true. He enjoyed his time. But he certainly always had plans on the holidays, or even weekends -- making his way to America to care for his dragon. This is his last year here at Hogwarts, and he plans to go to school elsewhere to further his education -- but he's taking his dragon with him after this.
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ABOUT YOU
AGE:22
GENDER: Female
TIMEZONE: Central
CONTACT INFO: DeathblowJulius (AIM)
HOW DID YOU FIND US: RPGD
EXPERIENCE: 12+ years
CODEWORD: admin edit
QUESTIONS: Nope!
RP SAMPLE: The bridal march. He knew it by its first chord. Who didn't? It was ingrained into society as the bridal march. Everyone stood and turned as the doors opened, revealing the bride to be. Even he looked up to see the woman he was supposed to marry. Now, he didn't have his glasses on, but from what he could tell from down the aisle, at least she wasn't fat.
At least.
As she approached, his breath became lodged in his throat. She was actually pretty! No, she wasn't one of those immaculate trophy wives that he was thinking would be the other end of the spectrum . . . no, she was just. . . Pretty. She had a sort of quaint, quiet look to her, like she had grown up on a farm, maybe, like him. A faint tinge of blush came to his cheeks as his eyes caught hers for a brief moment, but she quickly glanced away. She had to watch out for that dress, after all.
He inhaled shallowly as she approached the altar, moving to stand in front of him, beside the preacher. The older man stared down at them with a sort of half stern, half happy gaze that made Mr. Shepherdson somewhat uncomfortable. Granted, this wasn't exactly his cup of tea, either. He was getting married to a strange woman that he likely had nothing in common with. At least she was pretty. If they were slick about it, they could get the whole thing annulled before anyone was the wiser.
Faced with this new train of thought as a distraction, he turned to look at his bride. He stared down at her, his thoughts wandering as the preacher droned on and on about some bible verse about god and not tearing people asunder, or something. He never really paid much attention in church, the few times he had to go with his parents, but he recognized the passage. It was kind of funny, half listening to it and planning to tear the very thing asunder first chance he got.
He looked down at her hands. She looked a little scared. Suddenly, there were rings being shoved toward them. By a child. Where did that child even come from? He seemed to materialize out of thin air. He was too busy thinking about the law and how beautiful his bride's eyes were to notice the boy bringing the rings to them. He stared at the boy, and to the preacher, and hesitantly took the ring and placed it on her finger, following along with whatever the preacher told him to say. He'd sit and wait patiently while she did the same for him. That was how those sorts of things worked, right?
After the ring exchange, he kept his hands on hers. Holding them. In his own hands. He didn't even think a thing of it. Her hands were smaller than his, and far softer. Absently, his thumb trailed over the top of one of her hands as he watched her, emerald eyes boring into her own. He was thinking, deeply of course. A blush was still present on his cheeks, and, swallowing, he glanced away for a moment. He had been staring. How rude of him! How dare she be so pretty in the first place, though. The nerve of her! He managed to crack a half smile at her as this thought ran through his head.
Then he heard it. The preacher began to lead him on.
"I, Merle Shepherdson, take you to be my lawfully wedded wife . . ." He said, following along, repeating what the preacher had said. It was some vow, something about sickness and health, richness and wealth, you know, the whole shebang. He had seen it on daytime tv enough he probably could have rattled it off himself. " . . . so long as we both shall live." he finished. Now it was her turn. Maybe he could actually learn her name!
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