Post by Finlay Cassandra Mackenzie on Sept 14, 2009 21:25:40 GMT 1
Finlay Cassandra Mackenzie
Sixteen , Female, Bi-curious, Halfblood, Student
Sixteen , Female, Bi-curious, Halfblood, Student
the factfile[/font]
Height: 5’6”
Build: Finlay is slim and toned, mainly due to her love of sports and fitness. However, this has meant that she is semi lacking in the womanly curves department, but push up bras and chicken fillets are her best friends.
Wand: A 8 inch wand handed down from her great grandmother and made from Hazel. It’s meant to improve her artistic ability, magical knowledge and optimism. The energy of hazel wood promotes love and creativity. It should’ve helped Finlay shed her baggage; open herself up to her full potential. The wood also promotes creative expression, eloquence, and art of all types. It is a wood connected to the fire element, which suits her personality at times! The core is hair from the mane of a Kelpie, which is good for most spells but Finlay knows it’s only really there because her family are Scottish and proud of their heritage.
Patronus: Scottish Wildcat - again due to her heritage. The memory that she uses to bring forth the patronus is her first ‘gig’ for her family.
Boggart: As tragic as it sounds, her boggart is Chucky. She caught a bit of the film when she was young and has had a morbid fear of dolls since, especially ventriloquist ones.
Dementor: Losing her grandfather, it’s been the only time she ever lost someone she loved.
Amortentia: Clothes dried outside on a line, Armani Code, Tigi Hair Products, Rose and Wine bubble bath.
Nicknames: Finn is cool, but call her Finny and you will get a kick to the nearest spot that will cause most pain.
Clothing Style: When in school, Finlay can either be found in her robes but when she is dressed ‘civilian’ as she puts it, she can be found in a pair of old ripped jeans, her favourite pair of Globes she’s had for years, and some t-shirt that will likely have some muggle rock band splashed across her chest. When not like that, she’ll be in her pyjamas or her sports gear or shorts and a tank top.
[/font][/ul][/size]the biography
Siblings: N/A
Relatives: Maternal Grandmother, Morag, 57
Other Important Figures: N/A
Pets: N/A
Pensieve: Witchcraft and wizardry is nothing new to Finlay. It goes back in her family to the old days, the days of druids and celtic tribes. Her family are not snobs, they do not care how pure your blood is, your class or your creed. They work hard for a living but they also know how to celebrate hard too! Her family is not your average nuclear family, sure she has her mum and dad but they were busy with their jobs which meant they weren’t home for long periods of time. So Finlay spent a lot of time living with her grandparents whilst her dad was touring and her mum was off teaching medicine and doing what she could to save the world.
It wasn’t a bad thing. Finlay’s grandparents were two of the coolest people she knew. She was submerged in the family’s heritage, the pride and the magic from the day she was born! It was when she was little over five years old that her family realised how much of her father’s influence she had. When asked to sing a song for the teacher in her primary school, Finlay could have picked Baa Baa Black Sheep or Humpty Dumpty… but no, the child stood in front of the class and belted out Lostprophets’ Last Summer. Shortly after that, her dad bought her her first guitar and she took to it like a duck to water.
When Finlay was ten, she got the letter from Hogwarts, one of the proudest days of her life. Her family were ecstatic and the party they threw was one she has never seen beaten. It took her dad three days to get over the hangover, her grandmother moaned about being hit by a bus for two days after that! She attended Hogwarts for three years without any problems, finding school a brilliant place to be, getting… passable grades but nothing spectacular, but finding her forte in the creative classes, anything where her musical talents or her art could take off and flourish. Her guitar was always at her side and she played wherever she could, whenever she could.
However, her blessed life was about to take a turn, and it was one hell of a downward bump. In her second term of her forth year, Finlay discovered the draw back of falling in love with a normal person. Her grandfather, at the tender age of 60, had suffered a heart attack. He was the first person she had ever known to die, and the pain was second to none. Unfortunately for Finlay she was already at a tender age, the middle of puberty, her head already an emotional mess. Add a deceased relative in the mix and she did what any other teen, wizard or not, would have done. She rebelled. Finlay started acting out, bullying students, skipping classes and all manner of other things she isn’t too proud of. This only ceased when her father caught wind of it, sat her down and gave her the talking of her life. He never yelled, that’s what she remembers most. He never once raised his voice but that only highlighted the disappointment in his tone. He mentioned how her granddad would feel, how it would kill her grandmother to hear what she’d done. Finlay felt so sick after she just ran, ran as fast as she could for as long as she could. Now, whenever she feels pent up or needs to clear her head, she runs.
There are things she still hasn’t kicked from her rebellion, the smoking and occasional drinking being the main ones. She just tries to keep her head together, working hard to make up for the slide in her grades, get on with school the best she can.
[/ul][/size] [/font]the inner workings
Dislikes: Rap, Potions, Herbology, Fake people, Exams, Being cooped up, Being talked at, not to.
Quirks and Habits: She stammers when she’s lying. She taps her tummy when she’s bored. She’ll do that thing when you close one eye then the other to make a stationary object move when she’s bored. She still gets low at times and gets quiet and just likes to be alone.
Mirror of Erised: At the moment her dream is just to make it to the end of school with good grades. However, longer-term dreams are to be able to help schoolchildren who have rebelled, help them to get back on track. Her pipe dream would be to be a musician.
In Depth Personality: This is anything but simple when it comes to Finlay because complex doesn’t even start to describe this girl. She is a sweetheart underneath it all, she just locked that person up for a couple of years and ended up semi losing herself. She cannot describe her feelings very well if you were to ask her straight out, but listen to the lyrics of songs she writes and/or sings and you will find them pure, elegantly written poetry of things she has been through.
She’s a witch, but that doesn’t change the fact that, physically, she is like any normal sixteen year old. She likes to be girly at times, she likes to curl up and watch movies or go shopping, talk about the hottest guy in school etc. She also, as most teen girls do, is curious about sexuality, knowing she likes guys, but wondering what the other side would be like.
She has the trait that runs through all the females of her family and ask anyone who went to school with her mother or her grandmother and they will tell you that Finlay is the spitting image of the pair of them at her age, feisty. Get her riled enough and it doesn’t even matter if you’re built like Hagrid, she’ll get in your face and have no problem throwing a punch or two if you really get on her nerves. This rarely happens… more than once a month
Normally, Finlay would be able to stay optimistic about things. She was always the girl who looked for the silver lining. However, since her rebellion, she has become a little too ‘real’, the optimism replaced by pessimism. She is getting better though, becoming more fun and less doom and gloom. She is headstrong and she hates to be talked down to because of her age, her size or her gender. Although she cannot yet put her feelings into words, she can throw cutting insults and witty comebacks like there’s no tomorrow!
[/ul][/size] [/font] behind the mask [/font]
Experience: Approx. 6-7 years?
Time Zone: GMT
How Did You Find Us?: Jen
Play By: Amanda Crew
Sample:[/size][/ul][/font]
Faith had started off checking her wrist and hand, but the sight of her busted skin and the state of her hand had brought Dean’s words to the front of her mind, meaning she just stared blankly at her hand. He was right; she knew he was right, so why couldn’t she bring herself to do as he advised? Why was it so hard to go see her Gran? Why did her stomach flip and churn at the thought of looking at their faces? Luckily, before she got lost in too many unanswerable questions, Dean’s voice brought her back to the here and now as his hand reached for hers. Faith didn’t resist, knowing she couldn’t do as good a job as he would, he did have two working hands after all.
It didn’t matter how gentle he was, every time her wrist moved, or her fingers, it hurt, sent pain shooting up her arm and escaping her lips in a hiss, released through gritted teeth as she gripped onto the edge of the car with her good hand. She wouldn’t snap at him, not like usual, some sarcastic comment to cover her pain in humorous dry wit. She stayed quiet, letting him move her hand where it was needed, knowing he wouldn’t put her through pain for the fun of it, not after the talk they’d just had. Still, she couldn’t look at him though, her eyes instead turning to the skies as she battled through the pain, trying to act big and tough, like a hunter should be.
She was grateful to feel the clean gauze touch her skin, knowing that meant it had passed Dean’s medic 101 training and likely wasn’t broken. She couldn’t see herself in a cast, well she could, but she’d been there, done that… had a few of them all at once a couple of years back after a nasty run in with a skin walker. Bastard had all but gutted her in the street after kicking her ass. That had been one for the mental scrap book, being hospitalised for more than a few days, she had been in there for weeks.
Chuckling, though it came out more as a half hearted huff, at Dean’s comment, Faith raised her hand to look at his handiwork as he leant past her. She was about to come back with something about the punch bags, an amazingly brilliant come back that would have gone down in the Classics section of her quotes… but then she spotted what he had in his hand. Should probably take it easy with this stuff too...at least until you get everything...you know... Faith shrugged, knowing Dean had silently told her she was falling apart and the alcohol wasn’t helping. It was hard though, seeing the things they saw, doing the things they’d done, suffering the way they had suffered. Sometimes getting rat arsed was the only way to get a half way peaceful night’s sleep.
Hearing the bottle clink against the other empties in the trunk, Faith looked up at him, Look Faith...I should catch up with Sam, make sure he’s okay... You gonna’ be okay? Lifting herself off the lip of the boot, she flashed him one of her trademark smiles, trying to cover up how much his talk had affected her. “Yeah… god yeah, tell the Jolly Green Giant I say hi…” She bit down on her lip as she grabbed a bottle of liquid from the medi-kit and closed the boot, bumping it slightly to check it had closed properly. Turning to face him, Faith popped the bottle between her legs to open it with her good hand before she took a mouthful of the gloop. The stuff was a weird black colour, similar to what ectoplasm looked like, but Faith knew it was the best painkiller you could get, her Gran made it and Faith found it better than any pill. Tilting the bottle to Dean, she winked, “Gran’s concoction, I’ll be right as rain soon.” Her head nodded, bobbing gently as she felt an awkward silence fall between them. “Yeah so… see you around, Dean. Don’t be a stranger, okay?” Then she did something that even shocked her, she moved in to hug him, wrapping her good arm around his neck as she pulled him close for a moment. She didn’t know why, maybe it was the old Faith coming out, the one she used to be before the hunting, when she was just a fun loving teenager, hanging out with Karlie and loving life. Maybe it was that Faith, hugging her friend, knowing it could be the last time. Pulling away, she ran her hand through her hand and moved to the driver’s door, pulling it open. “Take care of yourself.”
It didn’t matter how gentle he was, every time her wrist moved, or her fingers, it hurt, sent pain shooting up her arm and escaping her lips in a hiss, released through gritted teeth as she gripped onto the edge of the car with her good hand. She wouldn’t snap at him, not like usual, some sarcastic comment to cover her pain in humorous dry wit. She stayed quiet, letting him move her hand where it was needed, knowing he wouldn’t put her through pain for the fun of it, not after the talk they’d just had. Still, she couldn’t look at him though, her eyes instead turning to the skies as she battled through the pain, trying to act big and tough, like a hunter should be.
She was grateful to feel the clean gauze touch her skin, knowing that meant it had passed Dean’s medic 101 training and likely wasn’t broken. She couldn’t see herself in a cast, well she could, but she’d been there, done that… had a few of them all at once a couple of years back after a nasty run in with a skin walker. Bastard had all but gutted her in the street after kicking her ass. That had been one for the mental scrap book, being hospitalised for more than a few days, she had been in there for weeks.
Chuckling, though it came out more as a half hearted huff, at Dean’s comment, Faith raised her hand to look at his handiwork as he leant past her. She was about to come back with something about the punch bags, an amazingly brilliant come back that would have gone down in the Classics section of her quotes… but then she spotted what he had in his hand. Should probably take it easy with this stuff too...at least until you get everything...you know... Faith shrugged, knowing Dean had silently told her she was falling apart and the alcohol wasn’t helping. It was hard though, seeing the things they saw, doing the things they’d done, suffering the way they had suffered. Sometimes getting rat arsed was the only way to get a half way peaceful night’s sleep.
Hearing the bottle clink against the other empties in the trunk, Faith looked up at him, Look Faith...I should catch up with Sam, make sure he’s okay... You gonna’ be okay? Lifting herself off the lip of the boot, she flashed him one of her trademark smiles, trying to cover up how much his talk had affected her. “Yeah… god yeah, tell the Jolly Green Giant I say hi…” She bit down on her lip as she grabbed a bottle of liquid from the medi-kit and closed the boot, bumping it slightly to check it had closed properly. Turning to face him, Faith popped the bottle between her legs to open it with her good hand before she took a mouthful of the gloop. The stuff was a weird black colour, similar to what ectoplasm looked like, but Faith knew it was the best painkiller you could get, her Gran made it and Faith found it better than any pill. Tilting the bottle to Dean, she winked, “Gran’s concoction, I’ll be right as rain soon.” Her head nodded, bobbing gently as she felt an awkward silence fall between them. “Yeah so… see you around, Dean. Don’t be a stranger, okay?” Then she did something that even shocked her, she moved in to hug him, wrapping her good arm around his neck as she pulled him close for a moment. She didn’t know why, maybe it was the old Faith coming out, the one she used to be before the hunting, when she was just a fun loving teenager, hanging out with Karlie and loving life. Maybe it was that Faith, hugging her friend, knowing it could be the last time. Pulling away, she ran her hand through her hand and moved to the driver’s door, pulling it open. “Take care of yourself.”