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josephconway · 3 months

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introduction; the professor, the novelist.

aesthetic | moodboard | relationships | wanted connections | wanted plots

(LEE PACE / CIS MALE / HE/HIM) hey, was that JOSEPH CONWAY rushing past us? that’s weird, i normally see them around STARLIGHT COVE. maybe they’re headed to THE UNIVERSITY. they are a LITERATURE PROFESSOR & NOVEL WRITER, after all. who knows, i guess that’s 41 year olds for you. he’s known to be CREATIVE, RESOUCEFUL & DETERMINED but also MOODY, ESCAPIST & CLOSED-OFF.

i. details

full name: Joseph Conway nickname(s): Joe, Professor Conway age: 41 years old date of birth: March 21st 1982 place of birth: Seattle, Washington State residential area: Starlight Cove, Starlight Oaks, Washington State gender: Cis-Male pronouns: He/Him sexuality: Bisexual martial status: Divorced, twice occupation: Novelist Writer, Literature Professor

ii. appearance

faceclaim: Lee Pace hair: Warm brunette, wavy, short back and sides, long on top eyes: Hazel with green facial hair: Stubble to short beard, shave and repeat height: 196cm | 6'5 body type: Tall, lean, athletic, strong from regular exercise

iii. personality

personality type: INFP | the mediator moral alignment: True Neutral astrology: Aries Sun, Pisces Moon, Virgo Rising positive traits: Creative, resourceful, determined, passionate, charismatic, energetic, thoughtful, romantic, observant, intelligent negative traits: Moody, escapist, closed-off, reckless, stubborn, emotional, sensitive, impulsive, self-critical, workaholic

interests: literature, poetry, high fantasy, science fiction, carpentry and woodworking, interior decorating, renovation, refurbishment, fishing, foraging, cooking, sailing, organising, hiking, swimming, running

education: Bachelor of Arts in English Literature (with Writing Concentration), Yale | Masters in English Literature & Creative Writing, Yale | PhD in Philosophy - Literary Practice, Trinity College Dublin

vi. biography

Joseph Conway was born William Joseph Barlowe, to a single mother, Frances Conway. He was given his father's name, as that was the expected thing to do, but that man left the hospital after Joe was born, intending to never come back to them. Frances was only 19, shunned by her parents, but determined to make it work for her and her new baby. Joe grew up in poverty, in a rough neighbourhood in Seattle. His mother worked two jobs, and she stayed away from men - although part of her longed for the support and companionship of a partner and a father figure for her son, she knew her taste in men had gotten her into more trouble than it was now worth. She eventually met and married a man when Joe was in college, and they remained married to this day.

Joe was an introverted, creative and well-read child. He followed his mother's advice to do well in school because he loved her dearly and wanted to make her proud, and he excelled in reading, writing and literature. In high school, he joined the school newspaper as a journalist writer and regularly entered creative writing competitions he found in magazines, which won him some minor recognition. However, due to their poverty, Joe also had to work as soon as possible. When he was young, he would go around his rough neighbourhood and travel to the nicer neighbourhoods to deliver newspapers, mow lawns, wash cars and windows, clean out gutters. He became handy around the house by learning DIY, and fixing things in the absence of a 'man of the house'.

His hard work eventually paid off, and he was accepted to Yale with a partial scholarship. He majored in English Literature with a Writing Concentration, and the time he wasn't studying, he was working to cover that which his scholarship couldn't - delivering pizza, waiting tables, bartending - which earned him the scorn of some of his peers and the admiration of others. As soon as he was able, he became a student teaching assistant, finally able to quit his service industry jobs. With a slightly more open schedule, he finally had time to date seriously, and it was there he met his first wife. They dated through college - through their Bachelors degree, and Joe went on to study for a Masters degree, during which he began to write his first novel. After receiving encouragement from his professor and mentor, he sent it out to several publishing companies before graduation. To his surprise, it was picked up, and he was offered a three-book deal. This was the beginning of his career as a novelist, under the name Joseph Conway. He legally changed his name to take his mother's surname, honouring her hard work, sacrifice and love.

Joe would go on to write an internationally popular high fantasy trilogy, as well as marry his first wife. After his third book was published, his literary agent pushed for him to get a second three-book deal, this time for a science fiction trilogy, which was accepted. Joe's life changed drastically - he now had more money than he had ever imagined having, with a job that had long been a dream. Although he and his wife were young, they were happy but decided to wait until their late twenties to begin having a family. After his science fiction trilogy proved to be another international success, Joe was pushed to keep writing, but he wanted something different - to return to academia to pursue a PhD. He could afford to do it, and his wife fully supported him, thinking he would return to Yale, or perhaps branch out to a different Ivy League. It was a shock when he revealed he wanted to study at Trinity College Dublin, in Ireland.

Initially, their relationship remained strong. They loved each other fiercely, but after the first year of long distance, they became strained. Joe convinced her to move to Ireland to live with him, which required a long-stay visa. It was a successful process but after two more years, the strain began again in earnest. His wife wanted to start a family and wasn't entirely happy in Ireland. Joe wanted to wait until his PhD programme was finished before having children, and he loved his life in Ireland. Eventually, their fights became too numerous, and Joe was too busy and too focused to see what was happening. His wife returned to America and filed for divorce. Devasted, Joe channelled his heartbreak into his work, writing an entirely different kind of novel from anything he'd done before - a heartbreaking, painful, drama, accompanied by a small book of poetry. This novel would go on to be published and receive not only international success but critical acclaim and various literary awards.

Once his PhD was finished, Joe returned to America. He moved to New York City, but would regularly return to Ireland.

Joe would go on to write another high fantasy trilogy, returning to the original world he created to write a new story, much to the delight of his fans. During this time, he met his second wife, who was so unlike his first it took his breath away. Instead of the slow, steady burn of his college youth, this partnership was passionate and moved fast. Joe proposed a little over a year after they met, and they were married a year after that. Now, it was Joe who was ready and eager for children, but his second wife wanted to enjoy the lifestyle his success and her career brought them. Joe complied, focusing on his work, and enjoying his time with her. However, he grew restless and began speaking in earnest about them having a child once his trilogy was finished.

His dreams seemed to come true when his wife told him she was pregnant, only for it to turn into a nightmare in her third trimester. Almost entirely by accident, Joe discovered a secret phone, which led him down a trail to discover his wife's affair with his manager, a man he considered one of his closest friends. Shellshocked, Joe shut down, his whole life crumbling around him. He asked for a paternity test once the baby was once, and when it came back, the child he'd been preparing for wasn't his. He filed for divorce the next day and did whatever he could to never pay her alimony, and never see her again. He gave her almost all of their property and material goods, save for a rustic seaside cabin in Starlight Oaks - a pet project he'd been intending to convert into a holiday home for their new family. He broke ties with his manager and former best friend, telling his publishing company he wasn't sure when or if he would be able to continue his work with them.

After that, he packed the rest of his belongings into a small moving truck and his car, and he drove the length of the US to his new life - an abandoned seaside cabin desperately in need of renovation.

#starlight.intro #;biography #;introduction

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repressedjason · 24 days

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He's in the drivers seat I won't be who he is He's in the drivers seat I will be who he is

ben levin, homosexual, male + he/him → isn’t that jason castro? i’ve also heard they go by the repressed. i hear they’re twenty-five and want to be an architect. they seem to be dedicated & decisive, but also withdrawn & temperamental. they remind me of standing in as a guardian when others couldn't, being lost when time is in his hands rather than needing to devote it to others, & constant smudges of ink and lead on his fingers.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄. jason castro 𝐀𝐊𝐀. jace, jay, jaybird 𝐀𝐆𝐄. twenty-five 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 & 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒. cis male & he/him 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. homoromantic homosexual 𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. student, part time convenience store

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑. black, tidy 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒. brown 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. six foot 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃. toned, swimmers build 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒. several, located across his torso and arms 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒. none 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. none 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌. ben levin

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. lawful neutral 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒. dedicated, decisive, protective 𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒. withdrawn, temperamental 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒. fishing, art,

𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋. fit, active lifestyle 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐀𝐒. claustrophobia 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. 20/20 𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃. right 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐆 𝐔𝐒𝐄. none 𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐇𝐎𝐋 𝐔𝐒𝐄. none 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐓. eats less than he probably should, but rarely to a fault

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒. jeffrey and maria castro 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. aiyrn, alexa (younger sisters), jacob (youngest brother) 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐒. none

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘

a house of high expectations and deep disappointments. that was what growing up was for jason. expectations to rise from his fathers shadow, a leading architect responsible for structures that were simply marvelous, should those in the know be believed. an ever busy social life, traipsing his mother around like a prize. dressing him to impress, to draw the eye, become the talk of the town. he became a prize to offer from his early teens.

he also learned that when he didn't prove effective enough? he was passed over his baby brother. a brother he'd practically taken to raising, alongside his sister, to better fit their parents oh so dramatic social lives. six, seven, and nine years between him and them. sure, they saw their parents, ate meals together occasionally, but it came down to jason to learn to be just like his father. devote his life to his family. at least, to everybody else looking in.

lawrence university became his escape from that. as much as it could, of course, with his father having his finger in every pie, checking in constantly to make sure he kept up his studies, kept on track. he took on extra majors, just to stay longer. desperate for something to break the monotony. to see something beyond... a legacy left by his father. whatever didn't fit that was pushed to the side, for the worse so many times over.

#mysteryintro #;biography

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emmethills · 1 year

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Name - Emmet Hills Age - 24 Client at Haus of Perses Successor to a leading US hearing care company Sexuality - Gay Kinks - Nippleplay, teasing, romance Anti Kinks - Bathroom play, infantilism, non-con Biography

Emmet was born into a family of generational wealth. He and his sister always had everything they could ever ask for and more. Except Emmet was born with significant hearing loss. Wanting to ensure his kids had nothing but the best, both in the moment and in the future, his father spent part of his fortune purchasing a hearing care manifacturing company. And throughout Emmet's upbringing, that company became a larger and larger part of their family's life. It became his family's passion project to invent and provide the best and newest in hearing aid technology for their son and others with the same struggles.

Emmet himself turned out to be a shy boy by nature. He was better academically than socially. At times, he was even more comfortable communicating with other people in ASL than speaking, which didn't help his social life outside of a small group of friends and family.

By the time Emmet went to college, the family company had grown to be one of the leading manifacturers in the US, and it was clear he was set to take over the business, when he was ready. He wanted to be involed. And so he kept his head down in the books, naturally straying from the temptation of parties of hookups, and and took a double major in business and engineering, going straight into a business masters afterwards. Just as he was about to truly start his career, he recived a strange invitation. Clearly being the son of a wealthy businessman and heir to a large corporation had caught the attention of some powerful people. And since Emmet had negated the debaucherous parts of the college experience, perhaps that invitation was an excuse to take a little break from reality and live out some of those experiences, he hadn't had the nerves to try before.

#about #bio #;about #;bio #biography #;biography

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nessalochs · 1 year

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n e s s a l e i t h b u c h a n a n

basics:

name: nessa leith buchanan. pronunciation: neh·suh leeth byoo·ka·nuhn. meaning: nessa- miracle, pure, butterfly, not gentle. leith- broad river. birthday: may 20th. age: twenty. pronouns: she & her. sexuality: pansexual. siblings: cooper buchanan, logan buchanan, ethan buchanan. parents: filip buchanan, fiona buchanan. other family: maisie buchanan (grandma). languages: english. scottish gaelic. current residence: tbd. hometown: scotland.

wizard fun:

hogwarts house: hufflepuff. year of graduation: 1977. occupation: general manager of hexcade. pet: a raccoon named pacman she found in the highlands one day and lured home in secret. blood status: halfblood. species: witch. patronus: weasel. those who cast a weasel are as playful and mischievous as anyone would expect. many of these witches and wizards are spontaneous and quick to make decisions without taking much thought on the consequences. this means they can bite off more than they can chew and get in way over their heads. in the long run, they rely on luck more often than not to keep them out of trouble. even if these witches and wizards can get themselves into deep trouble, they are feisty when threatened and can pack a punch when you least expect it. It is when they are faced with a real challenge that they start to show amazing strategy and wit. if it seems these individuals think everything is all fun and games your assumptions are all wrong. boggart: nessa is more terrified of cars or car crashes than anything else. especially when it could potentially involve one or any of her brothers. amortentia: orange blossom. the sweet floral scent of notes just citrus enough to tickle your nose have always been among her favorites. it sparks an endless slew of happy memories, and her mother shared the preference. she always wore a perfume with that scent. static. the smell when the television first clicks and spatters to life or when a balloon pulls your hair up to a clingy end or a heat storm overhead leaves the whole world feeling tense with potential energy. fried eggs. nessa is a big believer of breakfast. she is a fan and tries her hardest never to miss one. if she does, you can catch her eating breakfast for supper that day. never forget the eggs and toast. wand type: 10 3/4″, sycamore wood wand with a thunderbird tail feather core, buzzing. the sycamore makes a questing wand, eager for new experience and losing brilliance if engaged in mundane activities. it is a quirk of these handsome wands that they may combust if allowed to become ‘bored’, and many witches and wizards, settling down into middle age, are disconcerted to find their trusty wand bursting into flame in their hand as they ask it, one more time, to fetch their slippers. as may be deduced, the sycamore’s ideal owner is curious, vital and adventurous, and when paired with such an owner, it demonstrates a capacity to learn and adapt that earns it a rightful place among the world’s most highly-prized wand woods. thunderbird tail feather wands are very powerful, but difficult to master. they have a skill in transfiguration. wands with thunderbird tail feather cores, like the birds the feathers are taken from, are able to sense danger and can fire curses pre-emptively when supernatural dangers are present. affiliation: neutral currently.

appearance:

height: 5′4″. hair color: flaxen. eye color: tawny. typical hair style: wavy and frequently unwashed while pulled into a scrunchie or stuffed under a hat. fashion style: nessa has probably never worn a shirt that didn’t at some point belong to one of her brothers or her dad. her preference is vibrant patterns and warm colors. she tends to lean towards sneakers with really good grip for skateboarding and accessorizes with scrunchies and old hats. [ fashion ] distinguishing features: nessa tends to look a little like she hasn’t slept in a really long time, but still has a wired amount of energy buzzing through her. her fingers, knees, and elbows are regularly covered in brightly colored bandages of various sizes from accidents. it regularly appears that her hair is frizzed out and static.

personality:

positive traits: sprightly. handy. engineering. negative traits: flaky. pesky. erratic. theme song: I like giants by kimya dawson

headcanons:

nessa has a personal goal to own the high score on every arcade cabinet in the shop, or anywhere else she’s seen one, and has put in hours and hours working towards that goal. her best scores are usually on pinball, though.

by the time it was nessa’s turn to start school, a brand new wand would be pushing the budget of what the buchanan’s could afford and instead suggested that nessa might like a wand that belonged to her great aunt instead. it has a rather rare core and a large personality that results in it occasionally casting spells of its own accord on nessa’s behalf.

nessa mostly skateboards everywhere she needs to go because she has a petrifying fear of cars and has never managed to figure out apparation. for distances too long to board, she sticks with the floo network or a broom. before the crash, her parents often had to reprimand her for leaving it out in dangerous places for others to slip on all the time.

biography:

tw: death, depression

at this point who doesn’t know the story of the buchanan family? it is certainly one that has been heard before; the dad’s a muggle and mam’s a witch. the lovely young couple were completely in love anyway. filip and fiona married without a regret and set about to begin an idyllic pastoral life right on the scottish borders. they built up a family farm and soon filled it to suit the name. cooper was first. an eldest boy dashing as he was daring, he always fearlessly lead the way, even if he didn’t know which direction he was going. next born was logan who certainly helped balance the scales with forethought and planning. he was always clever as he was capable. then came ethan. he was sensitive, sincere, and sometimes a bit secretive. yet the complete array of specific personality was never really complete until their little sister was finally born. nessa leith buchanan jolted into the world nearly at the dot of midnight right on the cusp of summer. she carried in her very presence a certain warmth and revitalized energy much like the season. their mother used to claim that nessa was like catching lightning in a bottle- breathtaking and so close to being a disaster. childhood bustling between the farm and the family was brimming with excitement, especially as each of the children began to discover their own talents. between sports, fine art, and music, it seemed like the only thing they shared was a devastatingly accurate hand-eye coordination. even nessa, who spent more than her fair share of time not thinking things through, figured out her love of game cabinets when she spent two months worth of saturday afternoons helping her dad rebuild an old pinball machine he recovered for them. she had a talent for the circuitry as well as ticking up a higher score every day. the fast pace matched her own. nessa always seemed to lean more towards the muggle side of things than the magic. yet still, she showed the signs early on of being a witch. a letter of acceptance to hogwarts came as no surprise. still by the time nessa received that simple wax sealed parchment with welcoming emerald ink, she could barely manage to contain the electric energy inside of herself. unlike any of her brothers, nessa was almost immediately sorted into hufflepuff house. it turned out that was where she belonged. nessa thrived amongst the hardworking and fair-minded yellow badgers. however, she never did show proclivity towards any particular magic. her marks remained average in every subject until graduation which did not leave her with much direction on what to do afterwards. nessa returned home to work on the farm until she could figure out what exactly she wanted to do in life, but nothing magic ever seemed to feel right. the options just never suited her. apparation even proved to be too tricky for her to ever get a license. admittedly, she probably lingered far too long with indecision. although it seemed obvious to everyone else, nessa had developed a real skill with electronics. there was nothing that she couldn’t eventually figure out how to rewire and fix. tinkering turned her ever jittery fingers adroit and adept. then the crash happened. it felt as sudden as that. their parents where here loving and living and laughing, getting ready to celebrate with them all, and then they were gone. the world seemed cruel for it. nessa still wonders if she hadn’t pretended to lose that damn necklace, could the timing have been different. would the collision go unmet? could everyone leave unscathed? should she have simply reminded her mother how beautiful she looked and let them go? was it her fault? the pointlessness of that question forced it’s way to the forefront of her mind on those days following when nessa no longer seemed able to light up the room or even pull herself out from under the covers. no one needed to know about those days, though. those days happened somewhat less often now. the distance between them much greater now that life had started to grow around the grief. nessa needed to find something else to do. she found a job as the general manager of an arcade that cater towards magic. it was a perfect fit for her, and recently, she took over all operations as the owner left town to go on tour. between fixing the broken machines, she spends her spare energy trying to get the high score on them all too. anything to distract from falling back into that listless lost absence again.

#ahintro #;nessa #;about #;biography #;inspo

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ritaraves · 2 years

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r i t a d o l l y s k e e t e r

basics:

name: rita dolly skeeter. pronunciation: ree·tuh daa·lee skee·tr. meaning: rita- margarita, pearl. dolly- cute child. birthday: august 10th. age: twenty-four. pronouns: she & her. sexuality: pansexual. siblings: curtis chapman (older step-brother). luke ‘scratch’ chapman (younger half-sibling). kylie chapman (younger step-sister). parents: creed skeeter (biological father). norma chapman (mother). luke chapman sr (step-father). crystal ‘crysti’ chapman (step-mother). other family: tbd. languages: english. current residence: tbd. hometown: london.

wizard fun:

hogwarts house: slytherin. year of graduation: 1976. occupation: journalist. pet: parakeet named sugar kane. blood status: halfblood. species: witch. patronus: beetle. people with the beetle patronus are always in the right place at the right time and know precisely how to get there. folks with the beetle patronus never give up on a project. they always find a way to see things to a full resolution or completion. these people waste nothing, recycle obsessively, are frugal to a fault, and have a profound understanding of mother earth and her needs. their life seems to be one of constant change. however, they always maintain their sense of integrity throughout all of this. people with this patronus can turn all things negative into positive. boggart: sources say voldemort, apparently, but that is most likely because it’s difficult to physically represent the fear of mundane obscurity. he currently poses the greatest threat to the one thing that rita is genuinely concerned with, her writing. amortentia: cigarettes. rita started smoking at a surprisingly young age. it was all around her and easy to get access too. plus it calmed her down from the regular chaos in which she found herself. despite the fact that she’s trying to quit now, the smell is still absolutely intoxicating to her. agave. rita likes tequila. nylon. maybe it was how much time she spent in that stupid old corner store that endeared her to the cheap smell of plastic, or maybe it was the little thrill of pulling on her tights to complete a perfect outfit. wand type: 11″, elm wood wand with a unicorn hair core, understandably delicate. the unfounded belief that only pure-bloods can produce magic from elm wands was undoubtedly started by some elm wand owner seeking to prove his own blood credentials, for I have known perfect matches of elm wands who are muggleborns. the truth is that elm wands prefer owners with presence, magical dexterity and a certain native dignity. of all wand woods, elm, in my experience, produces the fewest accidents, the least foolish errors, and the most elegant charms and spells; these are sophisticated wands, capable of highly advanced magic in the right hands (which, again, makes it highly desirable to those who espouse the pure-blood philosophy). phoenix feather wands were always the pickiest when it comes to potential owners, for the creature from which they are taken was one of the most independent and detached in the world. these wands were the hardest to tame and to personalize, and their allegiance was usually hard won. affiliation: neutral.

appearance:

height: 5′4″. hair color: bottle blonde. eye color: jewel green. typical hair style: rita has been bleaching her hair since her mother passed. it remains a platinum bottle blonde and she styles it most often in tight, marilyn-esque curls or voluminous madonna styled fringe. it isn’t very healthy, but she hides that well. fashion style: tacky bitch. she’s giving madonna. she’s giving malibu barbie. she’s giving dolly parton. we love a gaudy jewelry moment. we love bright and loud colors. we love feathers. we love sharp heels and shoulder pads. accessories? a million is barely enough. glasses, glasses, glasses, glasses. cat eye, sleek, and rhinestones aplenty. [ fashion ] distinguishing features: rita is perhaps best known for her eccentric collection of reading glasses, her bottle blonde curls, her bright fake nails, and unusual lipstick colors. she has a scar from a dog bit on her left ankle, and road rash on the back of her right arm from a bike crash.

personality:

positive traits: investigative. charming. visionary. negative traits: liar. greedy. trashy. theme song: material girl by madonna

headcanons:

she recently decided to try to quit smoking cigarettes. it’s not going well. she’s started chewing bubblegum instead. she goes through a lot of it.

when she was about twelve, started bleaching her hair using peroxide that she stole from the corner store. still bleaches it now, but uses slightly better methods at least when she can afford to.

rita has started the process of becoming an unregistered animagus, but has not accomplished the full transfiguration yet. currently, she is awaiting the next convenient lightning storm to finish the spell.

biography:

tw: parental death, implied drug use, child neglect

it’s a story that you have heard a million times before and frankly, it isn’t all that interesting. a wizard man meets a muggle girl. he is charming. he is handsome. he is just so magical. he woos her. he screws her. they get hitched in a shotgun wedding and pop a kid out a few months down the line. that’s our star. then suddenly daddy can’t seem to stand the sound of cries. he goes out for milk and cigarettes, or so they say, and he bailed. no one has seen him to this day.

goodbye and good riddance. right readers?

onto the bigger and better things or at the very least onto the very next man who would marry a woman that had nothing to her name but another man’s kid. spoiler alert: this one wasn’t so magical. however, he was the one that stuck around. it could be argued that it was never really out of the goodness of his heart. it was obviously not with the idea of living some great romance either. he just wanted someone to watch his kid, wash his drawers, and cook him supper since his last wife ended up six feet under. (suspicious circumstances? sources couldn’t confirm.)

so what do they do next? that’s right, just like every other trashy couple who can’t bother to wrap it before they tap it, these crazy kids spawned yet another mouth they couldn’t possibly afford to feed without government assistance. so predictable. so blasé. where’s the spice? where’s the drama? just imagine for one little moment the experience of living three kids to one bedroom. not ideal by our star’s standards, but she always made herself stand out. at least if she tried to do that it wouldn’t feel so much like she didn’t fit in.

rita never fit in. who in the hell would want to? to fit in at the bottom of the barrel was essentially admitting to fill the lowest common denominator. mark her down as a big ‘no thank you’ on that statistic. she was clever at a young age. her instincts her sharp and her tongue was sharper. even as a toddler, she had a talent for sensationalizing questions that stirred the pot. her step-brother, rumored to be the most reasonable (aka the most sinfully boring) member of the family, wanted something to occupy her imagination and keep her out of trouble. so he taught her to read and helped her learn hand writing well before she was to begin primary school.

it helped her in school. she never had to worry about her grades despite the consistent complaints about ‘attitude’ problems that would seem to arise, but really those reading lessons just lead to rita making extended use of the five finger discount on brightly colored fashion magazines from back corner the dime store on the weekends when she was bored. as she got a bit older, her stolen selections extended to cover sunglasses, pretty costume jewelry, make up, nail polish, and harlequin romances. anything that felt fantastic and could pass under detection. it wasn’t like anyone was really paying attention.

rita was though. when no one thought anyone else would notice, she would see when the neighbors got new curtains, when their post didn’t run, when they wore the same outfit two days in a row, and she would be whisked away into a world of answering why. the most likely conclusion was almost always a torrid love affair although her half brother preferred to posit aliens frequently and loudly as a substitute explanation. (sources say unlikely.) she would notice when her mother’s eyes seemed glazed over and distant just as often and she noticed the frequency with which her step-father resented them all. she noticed all the strange ways that she never seemed to be on the same page as her peers.

then, as if she didn’t have enough trouble her mother died. it was sudden. it was suspicious. the official report says heart attack, but the real news here was that she had a heart at all. who knew? certainly not the daughter now left with no other option than to be adopted into the step-family that saw her as little more than free child care and an additional poverty paycheck. it didn’t help when he married again and brought another step sibling into the mix. it was loud. it was crowded. it was crazy.

it was a goddamn relief to be offered a home in far off a magical castle even if it was something as abysmally dreary as school. it definitely wasn’t the first time she had been called her a witch. however, it might have been the first time where something appropriately special. of course she was magical. of course she was going. how could you ever say no? with the decision to adopt her father’s name, rita skeeter took to hogwarts.

where she still didn’t fit in, but cemented the fact that she was born to stand out. rita showed a proclivity towards transfigurations and charms, but it was her love of writing that blossomed above all else. her favorite past time became watching her classmates and creating stories about what must explain the little details she noticed about their life. eventually she started writing her ideas down, really building a story out of them. rita wanted to know how right she was. so she got people to talking. rita wrote everything down and eventually, someone found it all. that was really the birth of her gossip column. although it wasn’t the ‘detention garnering gossip that you love to hate’ until her first official issue.

it sky-rocketed her to popularity. of course everyone loved what she had to say. it didn’t matter if it was true so long as it was fantastic. rita gave everyone what they wanted to read. she gave everyone a little world of sensationalism to escape to, and she used that word of mouth to force her foot in the door of the prophet after graduation. it started as an advice column, barely a paragraph of text in the bottom corner of a middle page. then she started getting more and more letters. they let her write two paragraphs, a column, a half page spread. she had the perfect words to fill it all. besides, she would do next to anything to avoid falling back to where she came from. the only possible direction is up.

there are new faces on every street corner that her readers are dying to know. who is who? what are their hopes? their fears? their secrets? who can we trust in such turbulent times? what is this war really about? the daily prophet has finally given her an entire dedicated page to tell them. she will dig her claws in and get the job done. it will only get easier when she perfects this animagus thing. (unregistered sources say she’s very close.)

#ahintro #;about #;biography #;rita #;inspo

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pixelsparks · 4 months

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P I X E L B A R D O T.

district 3 mentor.

BASICS

[DEVERY JACOBS, FEMALE, SHE/HER] The 74th Annual Hunger Games are upon us and here comes PIXEL BARDOT, a DISTRICT 3 MENTOR. Word around The Capitol is that they’re RESILIENT AND INTREPID but can also be STUPID AND EGOCENTRIC. According to sources, they’re THIRTY and were once described as the sweet ache of sore muscles building strength, dissociation by drug-addled dancing on tabletops, electricity sparking up like a firework against a black canvas sky, how satisfied that savage feeling is when something finally breaks, only boring people get bored. What a character! As we always say, may the odds be ever in their favor!

BIOGRAPHY

Kodak and Damini Bardot remain among the most lavishly wealthy in District 3. Several suspected they would eventually make the move into the Capitol. However, Kodak preferred a more hands on approach to handling the family business, and Damini built the labs to her perfect specifications here. They were arguably the largest suppliers of screens and holograms in all of Panem. They even had special contracts with the President. Damini’s keen mind for technological upgrades, and Kodak’s business acumen ensured they could build an empire during their young lives, which in turn, meant they sacrificed other ambitions. The Bardot’s always intended to have children, but as time moved steadily on, it was no longer a viable option for them. They turned to adoption, and the lucky twins who came to be their family were named Bokeh and Pixel.

The twins were raised with every luxury that the District could afford which, admittedly, wasn’t as much as the Capitol, but certainly better than a vast majority of other districts. They both had tutors for general education and soon developed talents and passions all their own. Bokeh was a smart boy. He impressed teachers of every subject and, much like his mother, had a keen mind for inventive technology. Pixel, however, was not equally inclined. She showed absolutely no advantage in her schooling. In fact, she failed almost every academic exam given to her. She was abysmally obtuse with any screen, keyboard, chip, or circuit put in her hands. Instead, Pixel excelled with her dance instructor and then with an acrobatics coach. She was agile and strong, a natural athlete. The Bardot’s tried not to make their disappointment obvious, but it was no secret who would be taking over the business.

Despite that, Kodak and Damini encouraged each twin with both words and funds. Bokeh was given endless supplies to tinker and craft with while Pixel was trained physically. Soon enough, she expanded her interests to martial arts and combat training. The Bardot’s even attempted to enroll Pixel in the same lessons as other Careers, but there was not much available in their District. Not because they wanted her to volunteer for the games, quite the opposite, but because that would mean she had the best. Truly, Pixel adored the physicality of training, loved how it felt to move, run, jump, and fight. However, she got easily bored. When Pixel wasn’t riding the adrenaline high from athletics, she found other, less reputable, ways to fulfill that need. It started with little risks: climbing up the rogue architecture of buildings, sneaking drinks from her parent’s bar, tests of strength or constitution in venues that she certainly wasn’t old enough to frequent. When all that became boring too, the little menace moved on to larger risks: jumping from rooftop to rooftop, buying hits from shady Morphlings, seeing how long she could take a taser in the chest and stay on her feet. It was all a laugh to her. Besides, her parents had proven several times over that they would pay the way to hush up any trouble she caused.

When the twins finally became old enough for the Reaping, no one expected Pixel to be drawn during their first year. Bokeh looked terrified as he heard the name echo through the main square. Pixel, on the other hand, seemed excited. Of course no one volunteered on her behalf. She wouldn’t really want them to. This was a competition like no other. The surprisingly strong girl earned an immediate reputation. Most tributes from District 3 were lean, almost feeble, and pallid. Their skillset relied on the electronics trade. Those who won often did so by taking advantage of that knowledge. Pixel was, by all appearances, in another class entirely. She had the toned and well-defined muscles of a gymnast and fighter, and stood decidedly imposing compared to the rest of her District. That became a rather large hook for her character before the games began. No one quite knew what to expect.

The games that year were hosted on a salt flat. When the tributes were brought into the arena, there was nothing but flat mirror earth beneath them, a deadly sun above, the Cornucopia in front of them, and the movement of some indistinguishable animals in the far distance. Most tributes realized quickly that there was nowhere to hide and water was going to be their most valued possession. It was one of the most violent bloodbaths in recent history. Pixel was responsible for six of the ten deaths on day one. Those who survived ran as far as they could with nothing. The first night was tense. The second night, it rained. Those who managed to catch some of that water managed to hold out longer. The rest perished from dehydration and exhaustion. Pixel made a base camp inside the cornucopia, but got bored on day four and started to hunt. She managed to catch a few other tributes, but it was going slow and the original supply of water was running low. It rained again, but this time muttations were released into the arena. They were electrified and meant to use the thin layer of water to amplify their range of voltage. Pixel survived through a sponsor gift; a thin rubber sheet just large enough to fit both feet. She climbed to the top of Cornucopia and tried to wait it out, but the rain would not cease. With only three Tributes left, Pixel instincts screamed that she had to move to win since time was not on their side. She took the rubber mat and managed to wrangle it around one of the electric muttations to keep it in her grasp.

Pixel won the games, but lost her left hand in the process. She also suffered some severe nerve damage and burned all her hair off. That eventually grew back, but the hand did not. She had it replaced with a fiberoptic prosthetic designed by her mother and brother. After the tour, Pixel retired to the Victor’s Village for a grand total of three months. Then she got bored again and decided to do what her parents should have done years and years ago; she moved to the Capitol. The party life was insane. It suited her.

What called Pixel back to District 3 was the current mentor, the man who trained her, had a proper mental breakdown. He could no longer stand to send lottery winners year after year. They needed someone to train the new crop of Tributes. So Pixel agreed to do it. She would get bored of the Capitol soon anyway, and then what? She excelled in getting those Tributes physically ready. District 3 needed advice on how to gain muscle and stamina. However, Pixel struggled to help conceive of more quietly strategic methods of victory.

STATS

Deceive; 1

Fight; 3

Lore (knowledge); 1

Notice; 1

Physique; 3

Provoke; 2

Rapport; 1

Resourcefulness; 2

Stealth; 2

Will; 3

EXTRAS

pinterest. || playlist.

HEADCANONS

Pixel is pansexual and rather active about it. She had no qualms or hesitation about crawling into bed with just about anyone (at anytime). Sexuality also played a large part in Pixel’s schtick before her games.

Once she moved to the Capitol, Pixel experimented with a few other body modifications. The most notable of which are iridescent circuit-like tattoos across the expanse of her body.

Pixel is not what she would call a drug addict. She is, but she has certainly made it appear more like over-indulgent fun.

The best way I can describe Pixel is not a bimbo, but very specifically a female himbo.

#odds:intro #;about #;bio #;biography #;pixel

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the-joy-of-knowledge · 3 months

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25 Laws of power for women

Conceal your goals especially the ones that are appealing. Losing weight, reinventing yourself, marrying wealthy. Instead talk about your altruistic goals - to help children, invest in education, this will chase insecure people with vile intentions.

Do not give anyone your source of power: Was is a book that changed your life? a mentor? a movie? Never give up your secret to success. If forced to do say allude to God, the universe, the a random phenomenon

Use the patriarchy to your favor; we live in a world that is, only associate with men who have power, use that power for good.

Never appear too perfect but be selectively vulnerable when needed. Only share something that you will be comfortable saying. You might say “I forget my keys all the time,” “I don’t know how to perfectly park a car “. But never disclose something you are not comfortable with just because you are afraid of being perfect.

Maintain distance in relationships. Friends are the best and you need them. But if you feel that they are becoming too dependent, see them at your own will. But also the reverse could be the case. Your friend may keep a distance, and that is the way of life. You have got to move on from it.

Develop your own style that makes you unique, beautiful, and elegant. Avoid trying to fit in the crowd of people who claim to care less about their style yet have too many opinions about other women’s style

Avoid male friends at all cost, you will have male colleagues, male bosses, male acquaintances, business partners. Keep it that way. You do not want a Truman Capote divulging your secrets to the world. Do not keep a man who does not fit your standard.

You do not have to win at every game. Pick and choose what is best for you and leave room for others. And step down if you have attained that level of success, do not let the society do it for you.

Trust people but remember that we are all humans. So trust with discretion!

Confuse people with kindness; people are not always comfortable with beautiful and intelligent women. That power is too intimidating so confuse them by being genuinely generous, curious, kind, and passionate.

Keep your strong opinions to yourself.. if you support a movement, a way of life, do so silently.

We all have dirty laundry, wash them privately, don’t expose yourself. Remain silent when people try to attack you or shame you. Whatever is not confirmed is not true. You are the only one who knows all the truth about you.

Don’t attract pity or praise: People who pity you do not help you, in fact they might think that you are weak and could mock you at their annual gossipping meeting. And if you are doing things for the sake of praise you are wasting your time.

Choose yourself all the time; never put any one’s feelings above yours.

Trust your own intuition if you feel someone is being malicious towards you, giving you back handed compliments then you should let them go

Never speak bad of another woman. Do not lazy around gossipping. Keep your hands clean and your conscience clear.

Avoid women with low self esteem they will bring you down. For some reason they do not like seeing other women who are doing better than them

Be careful who you seek validation from. Not everyone needs to be pleased. If they are in no way capable of contributing to your life in the ways you prefer, then don’t ask them for their opinions or please them.

Do not compete with other women, if you do you are only putting them on a pedestal. You are making the the standard by which you measure your progress. If you do compete, begin digging your grave.

Do not give unsolicited advice, do not share the inner workings of your mind, If your mouth is very charitable you better start journaling.

Be well-rounded and interesting. It attracts people. It also keeps you busy because you are continually improving and learning. An idle mind is an easily subdued one.

Avoid women who want to live vicariously through you; they want to know who you know, shop where you shop, befriend who you befriend, wear what you wear.

Pay attention to the source of your discomfort; get rid of them. You tell them your dreams and they remind you of all your hindrances. They ask why are you dressed so fancy as though fancy isn’t subjective. They undermine you interests and goals. They will also be quick to bring you down because they are afraid of your potential.

Do not fear power or please power. When we see powerful people we try to hard to befriend them, to be close to them but you need to be comfortable without them. Don’t push yourself in the name of friendship, do not try too hard to be in their inner circle. Your independence of mind is the most important. Instead become a powerful woman, aloof to the presence of power but aware of its importance. Be an ingenious and intelligent and use your creativity to uplift yourself. When you do so it will be hard to ignore you. Even the powerful will become an ally.

Enjoy moments of solitude. Use that time to develop yourself, improve your body, learn new skills, create with your mind, read widely, become more elegant, then launch yourself.

Remember the most powerful women are the most intelligent. Inspired by Robert Greene's 48 Laws of Power. Use at your discretion.

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thistlethimble · 5 months

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T H I M B L E V I R I D I A N R I N A L D I

district 8 tribute.

BASICS

(SIMAY BARLAS, FEMME-NEUTRAL, SHE/THEY) The 74th Annual Hunger Games are upon us and here comes THIMBLE VIRIDIAN RINALDI, a DISTRICT 8 TRIBUTE. Word around The Capitol is that they’re WHIMSICAL AND ADROIT but can also be ERRANT AND ERRATIC. According to sources, they’re TWENTY-ONE and were once described as the fading warmth at twilight of midsummer concrete beneath lithe bare feet, a whistled melody carried like a bubble by the wind, searching for a star to follow in the light pollution of a city skyline, a story told from memory while a tea candle keeps the nightmares at bay, a needle piercing two sides to pull everything together. What a character! As we always say, may the odds be ever in their favor!

BIOGRAPHY

Before the peacekeepers forcefully made the Covey settle into various districts, they were a nomadic folk. Thimble’s grandparents could still remember the days of travel and music, well, the ones who were still alive and around could. Her mother’s father was among those who resisted, and two uncles, a great aunt, and her mother’s mother were forced to separate to District 4 before the rest were told to settle into Little Cove on the edge of District 8’s large, urban infrastructure. They struggled to make ends meet without traveling to perform at first, and while some continued to sing for money, others began to learn the textile trades of their neighbors. Soon the remaining family mastered their own unique form of carpet weaving in order to have income.

The older generation remained righteous and seething in their anger as they maintained what parts of their culture they could in a city which largely ostracized them while Thimble’s parents simply slipped into their mundane daily work with soulless dedication. It was true they genuinely loved one another and claimed to be content with their simple lives, but there was never passion in their eyes. It was more like resignation to survive. Thimble swore that would never be her. In fact, she didn’t really like weaving carpet despite an instinctual talent on the loom. Instead, she preferred to make her own clothes. At the very least, any and every thing she wore had an embroidered embellishment or stitched needlepoint done by her own hand.

Thimble both saw the beauty present around her in unconventional ways and wanted to make it all ever the more beautiful. She loved to explore the city. There were factories with loose windows that were easy to climb in and feel all the fabric textures. The dye shops always left their back doors open when it wasn’t raining and during their lunch, Thimble could sneak through to assess all the nuanced hues of possibility. She would dance to the sounds of her kinsfolk music on evenings in Little Cove with thrill and delight. Every ballad they sang became memorized in a treasured stitch on a tapestry of storytelling. Even what was harsh could be rose tinted in her eyes. She would climb to the top of their family’s shared living and stare for hours hoping to catch a twinkle in the night sky beyond the lights that dimmed them, but couldn’t it always finally be the day?

Eventually, Thimble decided that they simply had to become a stylist. It was a career that would give them everything that they wanted. The freedom to get out of Little Cove and see different skies, a purpose for their deft needlework, an audience who wouldn’t walk all over their art, and a bridge that could express their vision and passion to those who would otherwise ignore them. It just made sense. Thimble’s sister, Clementine Rose, who was far older and somehow content to continue their parent’s work, often warned a young Thimble not to become too hopeful of that daydream. Clem was always very responsible and helpful. She was the eldest by far and tended to behave a bit more maternal over her younger siblings. Unfortunately, she also seemed to believe pessimism was rooted in being more realistic. Meanwhile Thimble’s older brother, Reaper Blue, was much the opposite. He was the middle child; easy-going, relaxed, and enjoyed nothing more than the idea of having a little laugh. He was always telling fantastic stories and making everyone in the room laugh. No one was more inclined to tell Thimble to dream ever bigger, and Thimble would listen to every word.

Ironically, Reaper was likely the one most devastated when Thimble was reaped for the games. Everyone watching in each distinct district heard the pained cry he could not contain when the name was read. Clem bore it in tear-stained silence. Thimble could not even look at their parents’ faces, because at least then they could pretend both continued on in placid ease. They all knew no one would volunteer on Thimble’s behalf, which was fine. They would just have to win. Thimble could win; they were adaptable, clever enough, and charming to a crowd. They could carve a place of belonging even where they could not create cohesion. They were passionate, idealistic, and absolutely brutal. Since they had already spent a lifetime playing against unfair odds, Thimble had developed several creative methods of evening a play field. They only looked at the crowd and the cameras and smiled.

STATS

Deceive; 2

Fight; 2

Lore (knowledge); 2

Notice; 2

Physique; 1

Provoke; 1

Rapport; 2

Resourcefulness; 3

Stealth; 2

Will; 3

EXTRAS

pinterest. || playlist.

HEADCANONS

Despite Thimble’s talent for weaving, embroidery, tailoring, and otherwise altering textiles, they absolutely can not figure out how to knit. Something about that skillset completely evades them. Every time they try, it comes out horribly miscounted and uneven.

She almost always has a few needles and pins on her and will not hesitate to use them to her advantage, especially in situations where she sees the circumstances as unjust or unfair. There have been several occasions where she jabs someone just to look extra innocent when they start after her to manipulate the peacekeepers.

For some reason, the lack of stories that her family shared about their missing members has bolstered within Thimble a great need to be remembered. She wants people to tell her story; good or bad.

Thimble knows how to whistle very impressively and knows how to play a handful of flutes, but her brother was the one who really fell in love with music. She just wanted a better way to bond with him and found the flute suited her.

Style is obviously very important to Thimble, but they refuse to cater into already established styles. Popularity is nice, but they’re a trendsetter, not a follower. Their goal had been to create a home for their style amongst the Capitol fashions. Perhaps it still is a goal, although a few notches down in priority now.

Their parents were the sort that cared about their children, but obviously were so burnt out and depressed that it still felt like they were often at arm’s length. They did a lot of autopilot days, and Thimble spent far more time with their siblings and grandmother.

#odds:intro #;thimble #;about #;bio #;biography

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xenoflight · 10 months

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x e n o p h i l i u s a e o n l o v e g o o d

basics:

name: xenophilius aeon lovegood. pronunciation: zeh·noh·fee·lee·uss ee·aan lah·ve·good. meaning: xenophilius- lover of the strange. aeon- age. birthday: february 1st. age: twenty-six. pronouns: he & they. sexuality: pansexual. siblings: step-siblings. parents: diogenes lovegood, eurydice fawcett nee carrow. other family: alpheus fawcett (step-father). languages: english, french, greek, japanese, korean. current residence: tbd. hometown: devon, england.

wizard fun:

hogwarts house: ravenclaw. year of graduation: 1976. occupation: philosopher & freelance consulting magizoologist. pet: niffler named xanadu. blood status: halfblood. species: wizard. patronus: narwhal. this patronus symbolizes magic, freedom, and empathic abilities. a narwhal is the unicorn of the sea – channeling magic through its tusk as it points to the sky, constantly remembering its spiritual mission. narwhal uses its own self to connect to the divine and feel into deeper realities. those with this patronus don’t need a special tool or gear to be connected. they are part of the universe and can tap in at any time. their unique tusk is packed with thousands of sensory receptors. the spiral shape guides the natural flow of growth and perspective as this antenna feels deeply into its environment. narwhals are incredibly empathic and sensitive, noticing and experiencing things beyond the average gates of perception. so sensitive in fact, that no narwhal has ever been successfully kept in captivity for long. those with this patronus need freedom and space. they will seek out a nurturing social pod that respects your sensitive nature as a gift. boggart: xen sees contracts. he sees an interrogation light. he is terrified of those in positions of power using his emotions to control him. he fears extortion and most of all, losing his integrity and free will to choose. amortentia: walnuts. sweet and nutty, but also with just a bit of chemical scent, walnuts are rumored to be what space smells like, and xen could believe it. he has always felt a fondness for the scent. in many ways, it reminds him of home. wildflowers and mint. it is a strange combination of floral and menthol smells that invigorate both the sense and the imagination. both are earthy and natural, but absolutely distinct. burnt almond cookie. xenophilius’s mother was not a very good cook even though she tried very hard to be an expert. in fact, she regularly found herself burning food while being distracted by other things. so often that xen considered just slightly burned cookie far more palatable than the normal ones. he was the only one who like almond so he always knew they were made just for him. wand type: 13 3/4″, sycamore wood wand with a unicorn hair core, boundless. the sycamore made a questing wand, eager for new experience and losing brilliance if engaged in mundane activities. it was a quirk of these handsome wands that they might combust if allowed to become 'bored', and many witches and wizards, settling down into middle age, were disconcerted to find their trusty wand bursting into flame in their hand as they asked it, one more time, to fetch their slippers. as may be deduced, the sycamore's ideal owner was curious, vital and adventurous, and when paired with such an owner, it demonstrated a capacity to learn and adapt that earned it a rightful place among the world's most highly-prized wand woods. unicorn hair can be used in wandmaking; they produce the most consistent magic, least subject to fluctuations and blockages, most difficult to turn to the dark arts and the most faithful of wands. however, they do not make the most powerful of wands and are prone to melancholy if mishandled. affiliation: xenophilius does not associate with any political movements. (order leaning)

appearance:

height: 5′ 8″. hair color: silver. eye color: dark brown. typical hair style: kept a mid length, around his jaw and chin, it usually is very windswept and loose. he occasionally will style it by tying it up in a little ponytail or gel it into various spikes. fashion style: his pants are too tight and his shirts are too loose. xen can very often be found in jumpers with cosmic motifs. he prefers to wear shimmering and silky fabrics and colors that give a metallic sheen. chains, baubles, charms, and other assorted accoutrements are essential. [ fashion ] distinguishing features: xen is a short king and people have noted that he has a very impish looking face. he is a little cross eyed. there are tattoos on various spots of his body. one on his left ankle of a flying saucer, a large piece on his back of ‘extraterrestrial magic markings’, and a narwhal on the back of his right elbow.

personality:

positive traits: funky. devil may care. unprejudiced. negative traits: impertinent. odd. anarchist. theme song: starman by david bowie

headcanons:

when xen first stumbled upon the crashed satellite, close neighbor and lifelong friend, arthur weasley, was the first person he grabbed to show and explain his new theories. arthur immediately agreed to help him build a magical machine that could help take him back to the stars. they often work on it together at the burrow.

xen writes and prints a zine primarily focusing on his philosophical ideations, the ethos of the extraterrestrial, and an index and deep descriptions of magical creatures that mainstream society largely ignores or believes to be fantasy.

he definitely knows how to play a theremin. it is one of his favorite past times, and he claims that it is a soothing sound which helps him clear his mind when experiencing any form of writer’s block.

biography:

eurydice carrow was the oft forgotten middle child of a well to do pureblooded family that desired a place of belonging. diogenes lovegood was a halfblooded rapscallion who wanted nothing more than to experience all that life had to offer. both were too young and too immature when they met to realize that while they might be in love, they were wildly incompatible. their marriage lasted only long enough to see the birth of a child. diogenes hung around to give him the family name then disappeared on a breeze without so much as a farewell or explanation.

so eurydice raised xenophilius alone for the first five years. the mother and child lived in a little shack on the edge of another family’s property. the rent was a little steep, there was only one bedroom, the kitchen stove still required chopping wood, and the building was practically falling apart. however, there was always a well tended garden of dirigible plums and an assortment of critters who made themselves equally at home. during this time, xen developed a deep well of empathy and endless curiosity.

despite the less than common circumstances of his home life, xenophilius rarely felt as though anything was lacking. their simple life never seemed odd as he had nothing else to compare it to. eurydice did not share that perspective. so she decided to remarry an amiable gentleman in a similar situation to her. they moved into his nicer home in ottery st catchpole, and xen into a basement that was converted into a bedroom. he had never felt so out of place in his life.

unfortunately, that was a feeling xenophilius never quite seemed able to shake. it lingered. it became exacerbated as his mother, step-father, and step-siblings grew comfortable together and began to thrive while he obviously did not belong here. xen grew to hate that house. where was his real father? why did his mother think he suddenly needed one now? why did this nuclear family feel so forced and wrong? it was supposed to be perfect.

most of his time came to be spent out exploring the neighborhood. xen liked to befriend to local fauna, experiment with the flora, and observe the people both magic and muggle alike. his curious nature never faltered, and he made close friends with a handful of the other kids that resided in the area. they became the sort with whom xen shared all of these difficult coming of age thoughts.

then one summer night, a loud explosion and crash startled him from bed. while it still woke the whole house, it was surprisingly loud even in the muffled basement. his step-father exclaimed that something fell from the sky. they would go report it tomorrow, but everyone should go back to sleep for the night. xen knew that would never happen. instead he snuck out and gathered his friends to go look for the impact site together. they found what was later thought to be the wreckage of a downed satellite just north of their property line. to xen, it appeared more like a method of travel; a spaceship.

this sparked the beginning of xenophilius’s love of all things extraterrestrial.

he delved into an interest in the stars, planets, asteroids, comets, and even any potential inhabitants of such places. for the first time, he felt at home in these concepts. xen came to believe that perhaps he too was a spaceman. had his father been alien too? is that why he left? or is that who was trying to return for him and crashed? all the questions that hounded him for years seemed unequivocally answered with his new theory.

that autumn, xen received his letter of acceptance into hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. unsurprisingly, he was quickly sorted into ravenclaw. the house of wit and learning bolstered that infamously curious nature and matured his abstract pondering. he showed a natural talent in herbology and arithmancy classes while he all but flunked out of defense against the dark arts as his core ethos could not reconcile with the systematic opinion imposed on the curriculum. however, he proved to be exceptional at care of magical creatures. by and far, xen stood out as a singularly gifted student with all matters regarding creature care although his methods were considered as unconventional.

as were the rest of his ideologies. while at school, xen continued to chafe against the status quo. every year he grew more at odds with what appeared to be normal. eventually, he stopped pretending that like that was something he regretted. he didn’t. xen was well pleased with his non-conformity and the philosophies that he began to incorporate into his life. that and his obvious aversion to any war influence certainly effected how he was perceived by his peers, though. it made it somewhat difficult to find a steady job after graduation.

xen moved back into that house he hated for a while, but took the odd magizoologist job here and there to search for rumored and unknown species. eventually he was able to scrounge up enough extra money to afford a disreputable place of his own. he had not been moved in for very long when an offer was extended for him to participate in a long term research expedition to find the elusive star munching snifflebits. it was an opportunity that he could not refuse.

it has been two years since they departed, and xen only recently returned to town.

#ahintro #;xen #;inspo #;about #;biography

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peglarpapers · 11 months

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i love it when male biographers talk shit on women for rejecting their male biographees bc the misogyny inevitably goes so far it turns into homoeroticism naruto-style

#yes this is about the francis crozier biography

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terror-bird · 1 year

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#;ooc #;biography #owlman

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filmgifs · 5 months

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JACOB ELORDI as ELVIS PRESLEY PRISCILLA (2023) dir. Sofia Coppola

#filmedit #priscilla #priscilla 2023 #jelordiedit #jacob elordi #gif #liz #biography #drama #music

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hedgehog-moss · 6 months

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Forgive me for making yet another post about the French Revolution but one small detail that makes me laugh is when, as things started to go seriously wrong, one of Louis XVI's advisers tried to persuade him & Marie-Antoinette to get away from Paris and wait for things to calm down (the idea was "if you lay low and wait, the newly-created National Assembly will vote something stupid and lose popular support" which was a solid plan honestly.) But he was also like "whatever you do, DO NOT go East or South or people will think you'll get help from other monarchies to restore your power and that won't calm things down"

So the King was advised to flee to Normandy, which... is just a short ferry ride away from another monarchy. But that's completely different since it's England. To be fair to the English, the French monarchy had basically bankrupted itself a few years back to send millions in support of the American revolutionaries because it would be a shame not to take advantage of "perhaps the best opportunity for centuries to come to put England in its place" (actual quote by France's minister of Foreign Affairs in 1777)

—still I love the realistic approach of the King's adviser telling him, Sire you can't go near any of our borders rn, it'll escalate the situation, Parisians will know you're trying to get another country to help. Obviously you can go set up camp right across the sea from England though, that's fine since everyone knows the English wouldn't piss on us if we were on fire¹

¹ Perfidious Albion was like "aw no France is in turmoil and possibly weakened :) a shame :)" exactly like France re: them at the start of the US independence war ² they also thought well these backward french are finally following our glorious example and entering civilisation (parliamentary monarchy) ³ and only when the Girondins started being like "let's spread the French Revolution to the whole universe!!! or at least Belgium" did England finally decide "it's been a while since we last declared war on France actually" (but it was too late for Louis XVI) ⁴ That's not how footnotes work sorry. Trying to make my post look fancier

#autumn is when i read books about my pet century (the 18th)#current one is simone bertière's excellent biography of marie-antoinette which mentions all the above and much more!#i discovered that when she was a prisoner marie-antoinette used paul & virginie as a book cipher to encrypt her letters which made me laugh #i'll be the first to say it but paul & virginie was the Twilight of the 18th century #good on our late austrian queen for finding a use for this boring preachy novel

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