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#characters constantly blurring the line between strict male and female
post-futurism · 3 years
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logging onto jstor dot com to see if someone has written an ackademique essay on transgender representation in Angel Sanctuary (1994-2000) by Kaori Yuki. 
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leviosarpg · 5 years
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Congratulations, BAB! You have been accepted for the role of GISELLE ROSIER! Bab, you have no idea how thrilled I was to receive an app for Giselle, and boy did your app deliver. “You just gotta stop choking on who you are, and if you do, you’re allowed that - you gotta stop doing it so damn politely.” I swear that line hit me like a train...or a bag of bricks, because goddamn if that isn’t Giselle in a single line! Bab, this app was so flawless, I’m still reeling from reading it-- you managed to craft this vision of Giselle in her full beautiful, hypocritical glory but you made me sympathize with her. Your Giselle is an old soul who feels the weight of the world upon her shoulders--elegant, refined, but a little lost nonetheless, and you have me rooting for her, more so than I ever could have imaged. Thank you for bestowing this app upon me, Bab, I can’t wait to see your Giselle be brought to life!
Don’t forget to send in your account to the main and complete the items listed on the CHECKLIST!
THE PLAYER
name/age/pronouns/timezone: bab, 24, she/her, gmt+1
THE CHARACTER
desired role: Giselle Rosier
Giselle - Derived from the Germanic word gisil meaning “hostage, pledge“
Rosier - Rosier is French for "rose tree” or “rose bush“
Giselle immediately took my fancy because I love playing high and mighty characters with an impending fall. Her push and pull between the two sides who both advocate their respective truths plus her crumbling friendships that had kept the flame of fanatism alive for so long make her question everything and I feel like those are the perfect foundation for some juicy, dramatic threads which I love lmao time to mess her up big time!
gender/pronouns: female, she/her
extracurriculars: Slytherin prefect. Giselle was bestowed with the honor of prefect in her fifth year alongside Tom Riddle. Initially she was known to be especially strict towards muggleborns, as of lately her stern attitude has softened for unknown reasons.
The Harbingers. The role of prefect introduced her to Tom Riddle, her fellow male prefect for the house of Slytherin. They quickly grew closer, Tom fueled her fancy for long, intricate conversations throughout their walks through the halls of Hogwarts and thus he saw a highly worthy member for his group.
Dueling Club. Perhaps this isn’t the best reason to join a club that could possibly cause serious damage upon others, but dueling is an outlet for Giselle. The thrill of not knowing what her dueling partner’s next step will bring and how her counter-curse will impact them is a rollercoaster ride she wants to experience again and again. This rather adventurous side is reserved for her fellow club member’s only, outsiders certainly have troubles believing her out-going enthusiasm when it comes to club activities.
para sample:
first. diary, prologue.
If you’re reading this, there is an ebb and flow to your life.
Things becoming, art created, transformed; conversations organically layering onto other bruises, and right now, you are in the thick of it, but I promise you that rock bottom can be the strongest foundation for a stronger life. I promise you, the biggest revolution is ahead of you. The truth is, we never quite know the craters we left on someone else’s heart, not until it is too late anyhow. If you are reading this, you’re going to be okay. I promise you.
You just gotta stop choking on who you are, and if you do, you’re allowed that - you gotta stop doing it so damn politely.
- Giselle Rosier, September 1, 1945
second. echo.
seven.
Mid July and her smile is wide and effortless. The dry heat of the summer lays heavy and she has been going at it for days - a weary traveler, a foolish and gentle spy. A young Giselle lurks through life like it is an old house, teasing the wallpaper until it falls down. Layer by layer, story by story. Motions to people with the edge of her voice, with a change of her expression. They say her talents overflow, walking hand in hand with her never-ending curiosity. Outside the cityscape of London, she is sitting on the curb, wearing dried up loafers, a sweaty brow and the guilt of giftedness on her shoulders as she yet again slowly reads a book way ahead of her age. Sometimes reading out loud drowns the low hum of her family, so heavy with expectations whether or not she is listening. Her mother is there, the hummed secrets fading into light tunes when Giselle is around. Her brother is there, the huffs and puffs of him practicing potions in the kitchen still echo in her ear. Her father is there and she is supposed to think that she is exceptional. All her interests come so natural to her, the eagerness she displays is extraordinary to others but a mere flow of nature to her.
twelve.
Mid October and the sky is greying. She doesn’t say much and by now people know better than to light all the dark rooms in her house. And she can feel it, the tide of the past July. It’s like this one morning she looks across the dinner table and everything that has ever been left unspoken was being said. No one ever had to tell Giselle anything, she always managed to overhear snippets of her family’s whispers, the sight of her mother’s plastic smile became too familiar. Giselle can see it now, the way her parents speak in dim lit words, the way they mention her estranged brother’s name with little feeling and even more disgust. Summer returns with a vengeance, to collect its debts. How often do we wear smiles that hurt, smiles that tell us we have burned too long? Giselle feels heavy and the worst thing is, she knows the weather of leaving; the stale air, the dry summer heart.
When Giselle grows old enough to understand the poisonous hatred carefully cultivated between purebloods and muggleborns, her whole body tells a story of pain, like a sickness she refuses to treat. This is why she dislikes summer. The smell of warm summer rain hitting the dark pavement brings her back and it carries a memory she never wants to encounter again. At times it is difficult to continue to be radically soft in a world that sometimes gives more vinegar than honey.
fifteen.
Lately she has been trying to dream of something more, but how could it be any different? She negotiates with her quiet, she wanders, she bleeds. But no matter where Giselle goes, she returns to the Thames. And tries to dream again. Her mother once told her she is like a song played on loop. Enjoyable for a few listens until it bothers you and blends into the background. Funnily enough, Giselle always seeks to be present. Like, really present. Feeling every chill crisp morning running through her spine and the sore movement of her legs carrying her forward after another long day of school. The prickly nights lost in libraries as she drags herself through the endless pit that school is at the age of fifteen. Cold fingers reaching for a scarf that smells like that place she used to call home. Maybe this point was the closest she had ever come to the truth - souls laid bare. The whole wavelength set in an azure heat, the vibrations of her thoughts she did not dare to speak in the seemingly endless halls of her family’s home. This - the checked clocks and borrowed time, the heavy and relentless rock on her heart. Maybe that was the truth in its rawest form. Undeniable and without place. After all this, maybe she didn’t belong to anyone anyhow. Just to herself, in secret.
eighteen.
By now, her heart lies behind iron bars. She lets only few people probe her wounds, even less trickle deep within the tiny empire she had built within her chest. Oddly enough, it takes little for the foundation to shake, little for her to give them her country; and yet no one dares. She goes through life with a terrible intensity. Nights ago, numbness consumed her and she wished to be swallowed up by the dark earth. Too many vowels in her mouth, too many crumpled up receipts in her pockets. Her mouth twisted into rivers, pouring into too many oceans at once. At times, she says quite a lot and nothing at all. She always takes too much and gives too little. Reaches for people and finds salvation in the gaps of their words, only to wreck havoc again. Pushes and destructs, disappears like mist rising in the sky. It is always the same. They come for her storm and flee for calmer waters. No one writes a song about hurricanes.
third. diary, epilogue.
You’re 18 and you’ve had your heart broken. And it isn’t anything like the first time but nothing like the last time. You have exactly 15 sickles until winter break and crushing anxiety about tomorrow.
Outside the blue is heavy over the castle and the buildings blur to look like something out of another century. Majestic and grotesque. But all you can think about is the eternal void that is life. Sometimes you think believing in some kind of manufactured god would be better because you wouldn’t put so much stock in people’s words, in their alleged worth.
You tell yourself these things, you haven’t written home in a month. You feel you’ve lived a lifetime and there are unread letters in your nightstand’s drawer from family and foreign friends who love you but all you can think about is the ways you could disappoint them, like your brother did. And it is overwhelming and yet underwhelming because you constantly remind yourself this happens everyday and better you anyway because art.
You cannot be 80 when you are feeling 18.
— Giselle Rosier, November 18th 1944
OTHERS & EXTRA (OPTIONAL)
Headcanons
Despite her parents’ utmost efforts to pretend like this isn’t the case, Giselle has an older brother called Matthieu. Hailed as an ace in school and envisioned as a potential candidate for ministry of magic in the distant future, he was their parents’ entire pride for the longest time. The tides turned quickly when he fell in love with a muggle girl the summer after this graduation and decided that his infatuation was more important than everything else. He is now estranged from the family and Giselle has neither seen nor spoken to him in six years and couldn’t possibly fathom the consequences if she did attempt to contact him.
Now considered an only child, the pressure to continue the successful Rosier line lies heavily on Giselle’s shoulders. It caused her to cast a wall around herself, one that she has to climb herself to reach people and turns her judgemental, condescending, looking down at others. She knows the slightest penetration, the tiniest doubt sown into her mind could make the entire purpose of her existence thus far crumble, years of her family’s efforts dissolved into nothingness.
Enormous are the attempts to hide the fact that she likes muggle-made things. Muggle fashion, muggle music, muggle art. But the epitome of her hypocrisy was the liking she found in Olive Hornby, a muggleborn Gryffindor with a glow so bright, the moon would subdue to her. Although Giselle had her valid share of dates and experiences with other peers, she cannot deny that her mind still wanders off to the brazen muggleborn who had dared to make their lips meet.
Aesthetics/vibes/moods: loosely tied up hair, gold, dainty earrings and necklaces, being first at breakfast, white blouses, black loafers, reading glasses, last warm days of autumn, brown leather bags, caramel, twilight, sun rays shining through tree tops, brown sugar, cinnamon, pearls, last to leave the common room
You can find a moodboard here!
Magic
Education Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
House Slytherin
Best core class Potions, charms
Worst core class Herbology
Wand Rosewood and dragon hearstring, 12 inches
Patronus White swan
Boggart Herself as an outcast of society, accepted by neither side
Amortentia red bean paste, fabric softener, chimney fire
Quotes
„I was interested in everything and committed to nothing.“ Gregory David Roberts.
„I don’t do anything with my life except romanticize and decay with indecision.“ Allen Ginsberg.
„A star-shower of blossom, of dew-like pearls, fruitfulness, beauty, life, rapture and fragrance.“ Victor Hugo.
„Life happened. In all its banality, brutality, cruelty, unfairness. But also in its beauty, pleasures, and delights. Life happened.“ Thirty Umrigar.
Personality
MBTI INTP - The Logician. Logicians view the world as a big, complex machine and have the ability to recognize how all parts are interrelated. Their endless ideas may seem counter-intuitive at a glance, and many never see the light of day, but they will always prove remarkable innovations. They are a reserved personality type, but if another person shares an interest, t hey can be downright excited about discussing it. Oftentimes Logician personalities get so caught up in their logic that they forget any kind of emotional consideration and sometimes dismiss subjectivity as irrational. They tend to become forgetful, missing even the obvious if it’s unrelated to their current infatuation.
Western zodiac Scorpio. A scorpio is a water sign, which live to experience and express emotions. Although emotions are very important for scorpios, they manifest them differently than other water signs. In any case, you can be sure that a scorpio will keep your secrets, whatever they may be. Scorpios are known by their calm, cool behavior and their mysterious appearance. Scorpios hate dishonesty and they can be very jealous and suspicious, so they need to learn how to adapt more easily to different human behaviors.
Chinese zodiac Fire tiger. People born in a year of the tiger are brave, competitive, unpredictable and confident. They are very charming but are also likely to be impetuous, irritable and overindulged. Moreover, fire tigers are optimistic and independent but possess poor self-control.
Temperament Choleric. People with choleric temperament tend to be goal-oriented and prove themselves to be logical and straightforward. They dislike smalltalk and enjoy deep, meaningful conversations. Choleric types would rather spend their time in solitude than in the company of shallow, superficial people.
Alignment True Neutral. A lawful neutral character acts as law, tradition or personal code directs them. They may believe in personal order and live by a code or strandard, or they may believe in order for all and favor a strong, organized government. Being a lawful neutral can mean one is a truly reliable and honorable person or it could pose as a dangerous alignment when it seeks to eliminate all freedom, choice, and diversity in society. It is the view of this alignment that law and order give purpose and meaning to everything. Therefore, whether a low is good or evil is of no importance as long as it brings order and meaning.
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