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Archived Applications / Imogen Renard
« on: 01/12/2018 at 04:14 »
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Application for Hogwarts School




→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.

Name: Imogen Miranda Renard

Birthday: July 14th 1944

Hometown: London, England

Bloodline: Halfblood

Magical Strength (pick one): Divination

Magical Weakness (pick one): Transfiguration

Year (pick two): 1st, 2nd (but definitely preferred 1st)

Biography:

I remember her face. Seeing her the first time. Being held by her. Those kind eyes. That kind voice.

I remember the first time I crawled. Towards her. She looked happy. Saying nice words. It felt nice.

I remember when I first walked. She cheered me on to get to her. And I did. After which, I collapsed in her arms. It was still difficult back then.

I remember my first word. Momma. She was in the kitchen, fixing dinner. I was sitting on a baby-stool next to her. She nearly fell over in surprise. I giggled.

I remember seeing Grandma the first time. And the rest of the family. And Momma's nanny. She looked a bit scary. But she's ok. I like her.

I remember kids on the street playing. I wanted to play too but they were a bit too big for me.

I remember the sun. The green grass. The flowers. The Hogsmeade Lake.

I remember so many things. Because all I have left now is these images in my head. Ever since that day in Diagon Alley ... when that mean man threw something at another man. And it landed at my feet instead. Then white light. And then ... Nothing.

I am blind. And this makes me very scared. That I will never see any of those images in my head with my own eyes again. And I just have one thing to ask that man.

Why?

*****

Those were my thoughts back then. I still feel the same way about that man. I still want to know why. Because, obviously, I am still blind. The family tried their best to help out. So far, nothing. But I cannot fault them for it. They have been awesome. They want me to help me see again. If the roles were reversed, I would too.

Merlin forbid. I don't wish this on anyone.

I am not scared anymore. Maybe become a bit reckless actually. After all, I did learn how to fly and how to play Quidditch. And ... duel. Yeah. I know you might think I am crazy. But, despite my issue ... I want to try and be a normal student. Probably won't be found in the Hospital Wing as a nurse though. Not as a newspaper girl either for Spellbound. Sorry! Still ... I'd like to try out both Quidditch and dueling. I had good teachers in both ... I am sure I will be fine.

So I am the girl with four senses. Without my eyes, I learned to rely on my other ones. Getting pretty good at it too. I am even considering leaving my sunglasses aside. Someone said I have pretty cool eyes. Plus ... normal students don't wear sunglasses indoors. And I want to be as normal as possible.

Well, normal ... if you ignore the obvious signs. And the dog. Yeah, Max is coming with me. At least I hope he does. I need to submit a formal request to the Headmistress. Well ... Gabby will, of course.

Alright then. I am ready. Hogwarts, are you ready?

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.

House Request: I will leave it to the Hat.

Personality:
Imogen is quite curious about everything around her. Obviously, since she's blind and wants to know what is going on around her. She dislikes loud noises or powerful smells in her vicinity due to her heightened sensitivity on the remaining senses. She used to be scared about her being blind, but not anymore. She wants to try and use her medical problem in her favor at any potential opportunity. She is also developing a little bit of a recklessness streak.

Appearance:
Imogen is brunette and has average height and build for her age. Her hair is either in a ponytail or straight to her shoulders. Her mother does her hair, for obvious reasons. Her eyes used to be blue, but, since the incident that rendered her blind, now they are a very pale blue. Sometimes, Imogen wears sunglasses to hide her eyes from others. Sometimes not. Mostly not wearing sunglasses with those people that she considers as friends.

In her day-to-day stuff, she carries a white walking stick and, most of the time, is also accompanied by a large German Shepherd dog named Max.

→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.

Option 2:

That rat of his was in for it now.

The gray little rascal had disappeared from his clutches at breakfast. Again.

Before Hugh even knew what was happening, Merlin had shot across the floor, somehow managing to avoid all the feet walking across the hall and had escaped through the open doors.

Which meant that Hugh was now stomping through rows of flowers and other various flora, searching for the small creature. It was like the rat knew Hugh was allergic to most flowers. Merlin always chose to run to the gardens whenever he got away from Hugh. It was as if the rat did not want to have him for an owner.

Hugh had named his pet Merlin because he had hoped the powerful name would give the rat more incentive to be more than a rat. Not that he expected Merlin to change into a wizard or anything, but rats were just so...useless, for the most part. With a name like Merlin, Hugh thought it might give the rat purpose.

The only purpose Merlin seemed to have was getting away from Hugh as often as possible.

As the fifth year trudged into the second row of flowers, not taking much care to avoid trampling the first row, he felt the first sneeze building up pressure in his nose and behind his eyes.

"You blasted rat! Where are you?"

He pulled apart a section of bright red flowers; he didn't know what they were called because he despised flowers, and ducked his head low to peer into the depths of the flowerbed. It was moving closer in proximity to the flowers that finally did it. Hugh took in three great breaths and then let out an almighty sneeze. It was strong enough to disturb some of the dirt on the ground before him.

Groaning, he stood up again and wiped his nose on his sleeve. It was as he was turning his head, his nose running up and down his arm, that movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Normally one who preferred to put his best face forward, Hugh was a bit embarrassed to be caught wiping his runny nose on his robes.

Nevertheless, Hugh put on his best haughty voice. albeit a bit thickly with his plugged nose and said, "Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare."

Reply to Option 2

Imogen was spending some quiet time in the Gardens. Because it was quiet. No sounds to focus on. Just smell of the flowers. Which wasn't too strong. Just the way she liked it. Anything that would be a bit extreme would be too much for her heightened senses. Her sunglasses were on. She looked like a normal student, just enjoying a peaceful stay in the gardens.

'Normal' ... if you ignored the white stick she was holding to the side.

Then she heard rustling. Something or someone was going through the flowers. Actually ... There were two distinct noises. Imogen had gotten rather good at that over the years. But back to the noises ... one seemed softer, the other louder. Maybe there was a 'something' and a 'somebody'. In fact, there was a voice that confirmed that. There was a boy. And there was a rat.

Imogen wasn't quite sure if the rat would be an issue. Max wasn't with her. Hopefully the rat wouldn't bite or something. But the softer noise seemed to vanish somewhere to the side of her. While the louder one, stopped momentarily and then turned into a big sneeze. Amplified further by her ears. Her head turned in the exact direction of the sound. It was so loud that she couldn't quite miss it.

"Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare."

Finally, she did recognize that voice. Hugh. Not someone he knew too well. But he did sound obnoxious at this point. So Imogen decided to give him a proper reply. She took her sunglasses off slowly and she stated, with a deadpan face.

"I cannot stare."

→ ABOUT YOU.

Please list any characters you have  on the site (current and previous): Gabrielle Renard, Skye Orchid and all the others

How did you find us?: Evil board, then Yuku (which doesn't exist anymore) ... then here.

2
Elsewhere Accepted / Elsewhere Child - Imogen Renard
« on: 03/12/2016 at 08:04 »
E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Imogen Miranda Renard

Gender: Female

Age: 5

Bloodline:
Halfblood

Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): 
Birth mother, deceased. Birth father, unknown, likely deceased.
Gabrielle Renard (adoptive mother - yes, she's played). No adoptive father. Anybody want me?

Residence:
London, England

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?
Mmmm. Nope.

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
No, thank you.

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Gabby Renard and co.

Biography: (100 words minimum.)

I remember her face. Seeing her the first time. Being held by her. Those kind eyes. That kind voice.

I remember the first time I crawled. Towards her. She looked happy. Saying nice words. It felt nice.

I remember when I first walked. She cheered me on to get to her. And I did. After which, I collapsed in her arms. It was still difficult back then.

I remember my first word. Momma. She was in the kitchen, fixing dinner. I was sitting on a baby-stool next to her. She nearly fell over in surprise. I giggled.

I remember seeing Grandma the first time. And the rest of the family. And Momma's nanny. She looked a bit scary. But she's ok. I like her.

I remember kids on the street playing. I wanted to play too but they were a bit too big for me.

I remember the sun. The green grass. The flowers. The Hogsmeade Lake.

I remember so many things. Because all I have left now is these images in my head. Ever since that day in Diagon Alley ... when that mean man threw something at another man. And it landed at my feet instead. Then white light. And then ... Nothing.

I am blind. And this makes me very scared. That I will never see any of those images in my head with my own eyes again. And I just have one thing to ask that man.

Why?

Roleplay:
Reply as your character to the following:

Godric Park.

Overhead, the sky was a crisp blue, for once clear of the ever-pervasive spongy clouds and rain. The sun was a lemony-yellow presence, high in the Eastern sky, and in front of it zipped three broomsticks in a straight line, or something very like one. One... two..... three... the boys passed, their shouts of excitement echoing as they chased the snitch, a tiny shimmer reflecting the sunlight.

Far below was another, much smaller broomstick.

It trugged along the ground, hugging close to it like a sluggish choo choo train and occasionally shuttering in protest. This was because said stick was currently being occupied by a very small girl who was tugging upward on the front of it with all her might, trying to coax it into doing what it had been expressly designed NOT to do.

"John, I said wait up!" The tiny girl squealed, giving the broomstick another tug.

Begrudgingly, it drifted upward a foot, and then sank, depositing the troublesome girl safely on the ground. Janey Hurst was not pleased. In a huff, she hopped off the toy safety broom, grabbing it firmly and thrusting it handle first into the turf.

Her brother was such a beast. He NEVER let her play! She folded her arms, seething blue eyes fixing on another figure nearby.  "You!" She barked, much more sharply than she meant to.

"...Do you want to play?"

Roleplay Response:

She had learned all there was to know about Quidditch. From Mother. Mom. Mommy. Gabrielle. Gabby. Any of those names were acceptable with her. Bit weird, but OK. Imogen wasn't going to argue with that. Why should she? It was like her Mom was her best friend. And she was, as far as Imogen was concerned. Until Imogen would have her own best friend in a classmate or a neighbor or something. Mom looked so young too ... like a teenager, almost. Even though she was 30. Almost.

Unfortunately, things had changed. For the worse. Mom kept blaming herself for what had happened. But Imogen didn't want to hear about it. It definitely hadn't been her fault. Not one bit. Just that mean man. The last person Imogen ever remembered seeing, before everything had gone dark. Now she could see nothing. She had to rely on her other senses. Mom kept saying that. Learn to depend on what you hear. What you smell. What you touch.

Because they weren't sure if this could be fixed. This sucked. She might never be able to do what she wanted to do.

"You!" "...Do you want to play?"

Imogen looked in the general direction of that voice. Rather mean. It was unlikely that the girl would understand the meaning of those sunglasses that Imogen wore. Or the little white stick that she was carrying. But perhaps she would understand this.

"I'm sorry. I would like to, but I can't."

Pause.

"I can't see."

OTHER
How did you find us? Been here since the time of Ezboard.

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