Post by Fawne Travers on Feb 3, 2011 7:46:36 GMT 1
Fawne Artemis Travers
27 , female, heterosexual, pure, charms professor/slytherin head of house
27 , female, heterosexual, pure, charms professor/slytherin head of house
the factfile[/font]
Height: 5'9''
Build: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, therefore, when one calls someone beautiful, that may not ring true for another individual. However, in the case of Fawne Travers, the majority of the free world, and even the incarcerated world, would find her to be gorgeous. Everything about her can be commented on, and only a person who went out of their way to hurt her would be able to say anything negative, and even then they would find themselves in quite a predicament. There is not a flaw on the young woman's body, no matter how hard you looked.
The real beauty in her comes from the superb line of breeding, though her parents are not of the most spectacular people. Their current looks, are not stunning, due to years of torture from their own parents, but in their youth, they were quite beautiful. from her Mother, Fawne inherited her hair color that glistens when the sun's rays shine through the beautiful strands.
Her eyes are another point of her beauty, being a strong color that could be called emerald, with a slight hint of copper or bronze within them. Beautiful eyes, though hard and stern, like the ice princess herself.
Her lips are full, and deep red in color, like to lush pillows upon the canvas of her face. The begged to be kissed, though a very small amount of people know just what those confections taste of. Her patience with those of the opposite sex, and of the same sex for that matter, wears very thin, so very few relationships have been explored by Miss Travers, particularly after those who knew her in her youth had gotten to know her. Besides her need to be cold and unfeeling, her Mother, who later proved to be clinically insane, had a penchant for Victorian gowns, often dressing her daughter like a lady in waiting from the time of dynasties.
Her nose is small and almost button like, and overall, she does look like a fallen angel.
Her body type illustrates one of good posture. She stands at 5'9", though she could be a little taller than that, and is roughly 6' when she wears heels. Her frame is thin and willowy, and she doesn't gain weight easily. In fact, as she grew, it was often suggested that she might have had an eating disorder, Anorexia or Bulimia Nervosa, but neither made much sense. Anorexia was ruled out because Fawne never turned down a meal, and Bulimia couldn't have fit the bill, as Fawne found purging oneself to be foul. No, she was naturally thin, and in her teen years, rather gawky to be true. She, unlike most of the girls she ran into, was not always the little beauty she is now. Her years of childhood had been mocked, as she had then had ears and lips too big for her small head, and as she entered her teen years, she was much taller than the other girls, looking overly lanky. Eventually, she grew into her image, which became a very good thing.
Wand: 10 1/4 inches long, rosewood, phoenix feather core
Patronus: polar bear; the happiest moment that Fawne can even think of is the day she graduated from hogwarts and started a new life for herself. She was her own woman, and could not prove what she was capable of, and this brings her such strength.
Boggart: She is irrationally afraid of birds, and would more than likely imagine the boggart as a large crow of some sort coming at her to try and gouge her eyes out.
Dementor: The day she was told her father had been killed and her mother was now clinically insane...nothing makes her blood run colder than being reminded of it.
Amortentia: rain, vanilla, lavender and freshly cut grass
Nicknames:Twitch, Doe
Clothing Style: For the most part, she does dress conservatively, nice clean robes and proper attire suitable to be in public. Course....she has been known to dress more eccentrically when she's feeling a bit peaky(those hormones, you know...they just do something to her).
[/font][/ul][/size]the biography
Siblings: Kariana Travers, 22
Relatives: n/a
Other Important Figures: n/a
Pets: none anymore <<
Pensieve: Fawne Artemis Travers was born on a very drear August morning. That was practically a sign right there that the girl was going to be a very morose and bitter child. Most infants cry when they are first born, but Fawne didn't; she didn't make one sound, which didn't seem to trouble her parents at all, they loved her all the same...or appeared to. The Travers family was never exactly known in the wizarding world for their compassion, and neither were the Carrows, to whom had married into the family.
When she was five, her parents had another child, a sister, Kariana. The age difference may not be vast in later years, but at the time, it was a rather big deal. You can't do much with an infant after all...it's pretty pointless, though the girls get along rather well in their later years.
She grew up as most children did that were born into the lap of luxury, enjoying large estates all over Europe, being given anything and everything she desired, and being forced to have play dates with other children like her; those of pure blood. It is in this way that she met Aiden Alexander Warwick...what a tragic day.
The palomino flake was introduced to the brunette at a reunion of sorts when the children were around the ages of six and seven, or about that time. At this point, Fawne's main interest had been a porcelain doll that her Aunt Alecto had given her for her birthday. The thing was crafted to look like her, down to the last detail. It even wore matching clothing, and on that fine day, the girl had chosen to dress herself and her doll in a white gown, silky and smooth, yet floaty. She looked like a little princess, and so angelic with her little doll clutched under her arm...until Aiden got the best of her. The cruelty of the blond boy was soon proven, when he stole the doll, which had been dubbed "Miss Molly", and broke it over his knee. The sound that came from his smirking lips was enough to make young Fawne's eyes narrow, and for her tiny hands to clench into fists as he ran back to his also freakishly blond father. from that day forward, Fawne knew that she despised Aiden Warwick, and she refused to go to another function hosted by the Warwick clan.
At eleven, she was granted the chance to attend Hogwarts with all the other children her age...and guess who also was starting Hogwarts that year? Yes...that's right...Aiden Warwick. As soon as she spotted his abnormally bright hair in the crowd, she took a detour, and ended up finding an empty compartment early on, locking the door behind her, though this was greatly unfair to at least six others, who now had no where to sit on the train. Oh well, she was at least away from the little bleached moron. The rest of the train ride went smoothly, she read a little, she ate the small lunch that her mother had packed her(consisting of apple juice and carrot sticks),holding a one sided conversation with her cat(Mr. Mittens), and playing with her new wand(s10 1/4 inches long, rosewood, phoenix feather core, pliable). Soon, the sun had set, the train had stalled to a halt, and the students were disembarking into the cold night, only to be led to tiny, little boats that only two or three students could fit into. Fawne grabbed hers right off the mark, quickly joined by a blond girl that she didn't know and...the blond retard. Great. The entire ride was spent in silence as Fawne just eyes him, watching him do all the paddling as she just sat there and pouted.
Soon, she found herself waiting in the long line for the sorting. She was nervous, it was true. Where was she going to be put? Where did she fit in? Well, she didn't really have to be all of that nervous, to be honest. It was pretty obvious which house she was destined for, giving her family history. Her name was called, and shivering lightly, she ran up to the stool to place the hat upon her head. It took no more than a second for the hat to bellow"SLYTHERIN", forcing Fawne to run and join her new house mates, which would soon include...Aiden Warwick.
When in her sixth year, Kariana's first, the unthinkable happened. Peregrine Travers murdered Liam Travers. Her Mother had killed her Father, and had then been deemed mentally unstable. The years had finally gotten to poor Peregrine. She just wasn't fit anymore. The girls were now put in a predicament, Fawne being sixteen and Kariana eleven, She did the only thing she knew how to do; she wrote a letter to the only relative she really knew, Aunt Alecto. The woman was kind to her, always willing to help her nieces. She allowed the girls to stay with her in her estate in Yorkshire.
After a few years living with Alecto, she graduated from Hogwarts. She was eighteen then, Kariana was thirteen. As Fawne had never been the most maternal of people, she left her sisters with her Aunt, who, she can only assume, is still treating them fairly well.
At this point, Fawne had to think fast. She was an adult now, and had a responsibility to look after herself now. The money that they had inherited from their parents was fine, but Fawne couldn't horde it like most of the people she knew, it wasn't all hers after all. She enrolled herself in the Ministry of Magic, going into Law Enforcement on more of a whim than anything. she interned in the department for a year before being on the regular payroll, before coming back to Hogwarts. The old Charms professor had finally retired and Fawne, well new blood was needed. Also, as a certain Head of Slytherin had passed on, she also stepped on to take that position as well.
[/ul][/size] [/font]the inner workings
+ Charms
+ Being right
+ Proper etiquette
+ Tea parties
+ Falcon quills
+ Plenty of fresh ink pots
+ Students that listen
+ Those in her house
+ Vanilla
+ Fresh laundry
+ Men
Dislikes:
+ Liars
+ Cheats
+ Aidan Warwick
+ Idiots
+ Chocolate
+ Useless holidays
+ Thank you cards
+ Scuffed shoes
+ Coffee
Quirks and Habits:
+ When she's nervous she cracks her ankle repetitively, even though people have told her it's disgusting.
+ She always gets her nails done on Wednesday afternoons, when she knows that she has no classes and never schedules any for this reason
+ She only will drink pumpkin juice at night, as she thinks that any other time of day is wrong for it
+ As her own rule, she chooses not to date co-workers, as it is unprofessional
Mirror of Erised: When Fawne looks into the mirror, she sees her parents, both alive and healthy and happy. She sees her sister grown and proud and well off. She also sees a man standing beside her, but his face is unclear to her.
In Depth Personality:Most people go through several stages in their life. No one is expected to be the same as they were as a child, as most are sweet, innocent, and just downright pure...but not all people are created equally. It should have been assumed that a child unlike most would have been created when a Carrow bred with a Travers. Bad blood coming together to make such a tainted personality, that if there was a God, he must have destroyed the mold that formed her, for fear of others like her. It started with her lack of sound as an infant, and expanded as the grew aged. Her years in diapers were spent silent, her emerald eyes evaluating the world she had been conceived in, her tiny fingers flexing as she waited to do more with her life.
When she reached her years of more developed childhood, the time frame from ages four to eight, Fawne began to explore more in depth into her more cold and cruel side. She learned how to read at an early age, and her level became advanced early. She wasn't reading silly nursery rhymes or other childhood storybooks, but novels that her parents had, handbooks and things of that nature. As nearly ever member of her family had supported the Dark Arts, most things she found as interesting reading supported those arts. This being said, Fawne learned many advanced offensive spells among other evil forms of witchcraft. Her quiet nature then only led most to believe that she was plotting something against them...it hadn't been confirmed until her later years.
By the age of eleven, Fawne had ascended to take the title of "Ice Princess" as that was the best way to describe her. Laughing and giggling was so beneath her, and pointless. What did she need to be laughing about? The world wasn't in the least bit humorous, and to show such lighthearted behavior was just foolish. This was the philosophy that she carried with her as she went through her years of schooling, keeping to herself, having a very small amount of friends. Those in her year and house were just not of interest to her, they all spent their time swooning over a creature that she found most vile, and instantly they were all unworthy of her time. In fact, it wasn't exactly a stretch to say that Fawne had no friends in school, save for her beloved cat, Mr. mittens, who met a very tragic end in her fifth year; punted into the fireplace by none other than Aidan Warwick. Yet another reason why she hated the boy with the fire of a thousand suns.
Now, in her twenties, Fawne has begin to explore a new front of her cruelty,and that would be in her words. Yes, before she had been able to make a man cry by a simple phrase, but as she continues to advance at Hogwarts, her debating skills flourish. She has now mastered such an art, and inflicts more damage upon any that fall into her stadium of choice; the Charms Corridor.
[/ul][/size] [/font] behind the mask [/font]
Experience: 14ish years, give or take
Time Zone: Eastern(USA)
How Did You Find Us?: Caity
Play By: Darla Baker
Sample:[/size][/ul][/font]
Scratching his chin, a days growth in place causing friction, he groaned. Leaning forward his back gave a sickening crack, all f his muscles tensing and releasing at once. It had been one of those days where Patrick could feel his age starting to catch up with him. He wasn't exceptionally old, nearing middle age but nothing to worry about just yet, but he could feel it in his bones. As he sat there, looking over his cards, his free hand smacking his remaining chips against one another, he sighed. "I'll raise you ten" he finally said, his steely eyes looking across the table at the two other blokes. One was easy to read, the man clearly had no valuable cards in his hand. his face was pale, and even though he was trying to appear cold and calm, this was clearly a bluff. Even if Pat couldn't read the man's mind, it was clear. The other man, though? he was a hard one to read. His facial expressions were minimal. he could have had nothing, or he could have had aces, or four fours. he could have had anything! I'll see you he said, as the other bloke folded.
Biting hard upon his lower lip, he glanced down at his cards. He had Kings, which was a very good hand indeed...but if the other had better...Yes it was cheating. Yes it wasn't at all sportsman like, but then Patrick wasn't one to lose. Focusing all of his thought upon the man before him, he closed his eyes and could clearly see...an eight and a ten; useless cards. "I'm all in" he finally said, pushing all his chips forward and waiting. For a moment, the other man looked speechless, but then he angrily pushed all his chips forward and threw his cards across the table. "You always bloody win, Patrick! It isn't fucking fair!".
Smirking gently, he pulled all the chips back towards him before pulling out his pocket watch. the silver hands pointing to half past eleven. "So bitter, Kevin. You'd think by now you'd just have learned to stop playing with me." Re pocketing the timepiece, he smiled warmly at his cohorts before swiftly sliding all of the chips into a bag. "Well, I am going to cash these in and be on my way. See you gents next week then." Tipping an imaginary hat, he got to his feet, doubling back to the entrance and slamming the bag onto the table. "If you'd be a doll and hurry this up, lass." He tipped her a wink as she began to count through the chips, his eyes watching the door all the while. The young woman behind the counter was just about ready to start dealing out his winnings when he got jumpy. He'd been watching the door, and as expected, a few rather obvious police officers had walked in. "Quicker, ducky, quicker" Patrick hissed as he snatched the money from her, ducking his head and pulling up the collar of his coat; he tried to stay incognito. The last thing he wanted was to be hauled in for questioning. Sure, they never had enough evidence to throw him away for very long, but it was such an inconvenience. His kettle would get cold before he got home, and that was the real pity.
With his face veiled, he slipped past the smaller of the men, finding refuge behind a large bloke with his sweetheart who were laughing loudly and scarfing down drinks. This wouldn't be an ideal place to lay low for long, but Patrick would wait as long as he could for the exit to be cleared. Rubbing the side of his face, his whiskers scratching at his palm, he lay low. He would wait until he was able to go by undetected; that was the plan.
The taller of the members had sidled over to the table he had been at, a sketch being displayed, and to Patrick's dismay "Yea, that guy! Patrick, the bastard is right over there!"
All at once, the eyes were on him. "God dammit, Kevin" Patrick breathed before there was a mad rush for the door, they were on him like that, but Patrick was smarter than that. Muttering a quick spell as he flew up the flight of stairs, he could hear the sound of the agents falling as if stuck in a time rift. "Nicely done" he smirked, as he continued up from the basement, finding himself in the well lit parlor of a magic shop. "Forget my face" he told the man behind the counter, who was gaping like a fish out of water. He threw a few dollars to the wayside, hush money so to speak, before walking out into the cool night. Popping his collar more and letting himself fall more into his coat, he hurried off toward his hidden flat, feeling he'd had enough adventure for one night. he was over three hundred simoleans richer than he had been a few hours earlier; that was a plus side. He could afford to replace the fixtures in the ceiling so that his roof didn't leak nearly as bad. God, what a craphole he lived in; he should have been able to live in some ritzy place by now. He should be all rights live in a manor home with a gorgeous trophy wife and possibly even have children who did exactly as he said. he shouldn't really have been a bachelor running the low rungs of society...but hey, you played with the cards you were dealt...sort of.
Back at the club, a few minutes after Patrick's escape Kevin and Chuck looked over the cards, gripping at their hair and wondering where they had went wrong. There is no way he could have won...i mean...how the hell does he keep doing it?!" Kevin moaned, letting his nails dig into his scalp while Chuck sulked
Slamming a fist on the table, Kevin finally went for it; he picked up the cards that Patrick had won with...and his jaw dropped. "THE BASTARD WASN'T EVEN USING CARDS FROM OUR DECK! THE LITTLE SHIT!"
Biting hard upon his lower lip, he glanced down at his cards. He had Kings, which was a very good hand indeed...but if the other had better...Yes it was cheating. Yes it wasn't at all sportsman like, but then Patrick wasn't one to lose. Focusing all of his thought upon the man before him, he closed his eyes and could clearly see...an eight and a ten; useless cards. "I'm all in" he finally said, pushing all his chips forward and waiting. For a moment, the other man looked speechless, but then he angrily pushed all his chips forward and threw his cards across the table. "You always bloody win, Patrick! It isn't fucking fair!".
Smirking gently, he pulled all the chips back towards him before pulling out his pocket watch. the silver hands pointing to half past eleven. "So bitter, Kevin. You'd think by now you'd just have learned to stop playing with me." Re pocketing the timepiece, he smiled warmly at his cohorts before swiftly sliding all of the chips into a bag. "Well, I am going to cash these in and be on my way. See you gents next week then." Tipping an imaginary hat, he got to his feet, doubling back to the entrance and slamming the bag onto the table. "If you'd be a doll and hurry this up, lass." He tipped her a wink as she began to count through the chips, his eyes watching the door all the while. The young woman behind the counter was just about ready to start dealing out his winnings when he got jumpy. He'd been watching the door, and as expected, a few rather obvious police officers had walked in. "Quicker, ducky, quicker" Patrick hissed as he snatched the money from her, ducking his head and pulling up the collar of his coat; he tried to stay incognito. The last thing he wanted was to be hauled in for questioning. Sure, they never had enough evidence to throw him away for very long, but it was such an inconvenience. His kettle would get cold before he got home, and that was the real pity.
With his face veiled, he slipped past the smaller of the men, finding refuge behind a large bloke with his sweetheart who were laughing loudly and scarfing down drinks. This wouldn't be an ideal place to lay low for long, but Patrick would wait as long as he could for the exit to be cleared. Rubbing the side of his face, his whiskers scratching at his palm, he lay low. He would wait until he was able to go by undetected; that was the plan.
The taller of the members had sidled over to the table he had been at, a sketch being displayed, and to Patrick's dismay "Yea, that guy! Patrick, the bastard is right over there!"
All at once, the eyes were on him. "God dammit, Kevin" Patrick breathed before there was a mad rush for the door, they were on him like that, but Patrick was smarter than that. Muttering a quick spell as he flew up the flight of stairs, he could hear the sound of the agents falling as if stuck in a time rift. "Nicely done" he smirked, as he continued up from the basement, finding himself in the well lit parlor of a magic shop. "Forget my face" he told the man behind the counter, who was gaping like a fish out of water. He threw a few dollars to the wayside, hush money so to speak, before walking out into the cool night. Popping his collar more and letting himself fall more into his coat, he hurried off toward his hidden flat, feeling he'd had enough adventure for one night. he was over three hundred simoleans richer than he had been a few hours earlier; that was a plus side. He could afford to replace the fixtures in the ceiling so that his roof didn't leak nearly as bad. God, what a craphole he lived in; he should have been able to live in some ritzy place by now. He should be all rights live in a manor home with a gorgeous trophy wife and possibly even have children who did exactly as he said. he shouldn't really have been a bachelor running the low rungs of society...but hey, you played with the cards you were dealt...sort of.
Back at the club, a few minutes after Patrick's escape Kevin and Chuck looked over the cards, gripping at their hair and wondering where they had went wrong. There is no way he could have won...i mean...how the hell does he keep doing it?!" Kevin moaned, letting his nails dig into his scalp while Chuck sulked
Slamming a fist on the table, Kevin finally went for it; he picked up the cards that Patrick had won with...and his jaw dropped. "THE BASTARD WASN'T EVEN USING CARDS FROM OUR DECK! THE LITTLE SHIT!"
