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Archived Applications / Andromeda Psyche Acantha Crowley ; Student
« on: 31/08/2016 at 21:25 »
Application for Hogwarts School
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.
Name: Andromeda Psyche Acantha Crowley
Birthday: 14 November
Hometown: Oxford, England
Bloodline: Pureblood
Magical Strength (pick one): Divination
Magical Weakness (pick one): Charms
Year (pick two): Third (preferred), Second
Biography:
"But Mother, there are muggleborns there!"
There it was, the sweetest and most bitter truth, like a stale muffin or an unwanted Christmas gift. A twisted scowl boiled and dissipated just before it reached her face, and her fingers uncurled stiffly against the fabric of her skirt. The only sign of her discontent (of her absolute, terrible fury, too) was in the marginal narrowing of eyes and tension in her shoulders; Sephy would notice, and none else. How dare that woman.
Their exclusiveness had been a reality— and a blessed one— for as long as she could remember. Andromeda’s interactions with muggleborns, and even halfbloods, had been short-lived and ultimately undesirable, like gum that had lost its flavor. The last thing she wanted was to spend the next four years integrated with the little insects, but Rome was nothing if not adaptable. She would make the best of it, and earn herself a considerable gaggle of followers in the process.
"Well then, Sephy. I always believed Scotland needed a Crowley for queen."
It was a blessing (and a curse; ‘precious’ Mavis Lerner would dig her own grave, but Andromeda would only thank the gods for easier passage— a monster had no care for a flower it trampled) that she and her twin had been allowed a shared cabin this summer. Valencia Bienvenida, too, was good enough company, on the rare occasion that she swallowed her pride and bent to Andromeda’s lead. The frilly blood-girl should know by now that even the cadaverous status of her cousin, and her pathetic snake, could not raise her to the level of a Crowley.
"I have a new friend,"
Andromeda looked away from her book— 'Politics for the Overachieving Witch', though it had proved useless, just like every other book of its kind; she’d be better off writing her own book— to acknowledge her sister. A thin smile slid across her face, a snake in and of itself. "Yes, I noticed," she said, and slid the heavy volume under her mattress. "Tall, brunette, hopeless for Christopher Loveless?"
"Use her how you want."
The two of them shared everything. Secrets, clothes....and pets. This was no exception. Rome had stats on near to every student at camp, and the counselors too— each had their own use, or none at all, and Andromeda would be the first to utilize them if needs be. She would do anything and use anyone to get to her destination— Minister of Magic; the title called for her— and she took it as a comfort that Sephy would be at her side.
"Want some?"
She wasted no moment. Andromeda sipped slowly and grimaced at the taste, mauve lips leaving imprints on cheap ceramic. Certainly, this had been purchased and brewed by some greasy kitchen halfblood, or a house elf on a budget— if this was going to be their future in education, Andromeda wanted no part in it. She pulled a face and fixed her sister with an expression of pure contempt. "Lord, do they not have proper house elves in Scotland?"
→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.
House Request: Slytherin, please.
Personality: Andromeda will do anything and use anyone to get to the top-- Minister of Magic is her ultimate goal, though Queen of the United Kingdoms would suffice. She cares about little more than her ambition; only her twin Persephone
→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
Please reply to one of the Sample Roleplays below.
OPTION 2:
Hogwarts thus far had dropped further to the floor than Andromeda could have possibly predicted. Its first impression had been, and continued to be, dirt-cheap and hopeless. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was too far gone to revive, even under her influence.
The gardens were especially below standard today-- trampled red carnations scattered across the path, and Rome grimaced. She would have to have a word with the gardener (that is, if she deemed the lowly peasant worthy (read: attractive) enough for her company; chances are, he was an ugly muggleborn). Then the sneeze. Andromeda stiffened for a moment, disgusted, before the offender rose from its bushes, looking very much like an ugly rat with that scrunched up nose and falsely arrogant expression.
"Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare."
A smile slipped onto her face like a well-fitted shoe, and Andromeda cocked her head to the side curiously. "Why yes, actually," she said, voice smooth as melted butter and as deceiving as salt in a sugar jar. (That's all she was in the end, wasn't it?) "I seem to be lost, would you please escort me toward the Great Hall?"
One more pretty little grin, and Andromeda believed she had him caught. "I'd appreciate if you accompanied me for tea."
→ ABOUT YOU.
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