THE BASICSName: Rachael Lynn Yang. "Rach" works fine if she likes you. Feel free to call her "Boss" or "God", but not like anyone's going to do that. Not until she's rich and famous at least.
Former Character's Name (if you had one): --
CHARACTER DETAILSHouse Request:
s l y t h e r i nWhile her brash personality and seeming bluntness might make her look like a Gryffindor, her ambition and ruthlessness are the traits that dominate her most. She is not above toying with peoples' emotions and gaining their trust so that she will not be hurt, and possesses an insatiable drive to succeed. As for morals? Psh, she lives by her own code of honour, marches to the beat of her own drum. She'll do what she wants.
Year: fourth ! third !
Bloodline: Pureblood
Magical Strength (pick one): Divination
Magical Weakness (pick one): Conjuring and Summoning
Biography:
One day, in the middle of Chinatown, London, there was a Chinese couple that loved each other very very much. And so in the middle of a dark, stormy night, they created a wondrous being that would bring forth amazingness from the brightest shores of Hawaii to the darkest depths of a distant cave. People would drop at the feet of this amazing joy, wondering why it was absent in their long, miserable lives, clinging to it as a beacon of hope in this bitter, horrible land-
... They were busy making a new recipe for duck rice, of course. What did you think? Get your mind out of the gutter. But yes, Rachael's parents were a pair of restaurant owners that didn't initially plan to have children. Mama and Papa Yang were a pair of second-generation Chinese immigrants who met at Hogwarts. Bonding over Artihmancy classes and the lack of Chinese cuisine at the Great Hall's table, the two of them decided that they would run a restaurant together after graduation, using magic to enhance the quality of the food and serve wizards and Muggles alike. Hence, Rachael grew up in the kitchen and on their tales of Hogwarts, learning about her unique magical heritage despite going to a Muggle school. Both Mummy and Daddy had been in Gryffindor, she'd been taught, the house for the brave and strong, the valiant and daring, and she knew deep in her heart that she too wanted to be one of them too.
Her dad, especially, was her hero. Even though she was nowhere near as talented in the kitchen despite her parents' best efforts (food had a habit of burning when she walked near it) she wanted to be just like her father, who taught her how to read and write and with math when she was struggling with Muggle school. Her parents would take her to Hyde Park on weekends and her dad would hoist her up the trees, making her feel like the queen of the world, looking down upon her subjects. And to her surprise, he continued to take her out and to spend time with her even after her mother had a little baby boy when she was ten; her grandparents had always told her that girls were inferior to boys, the Chinese principle of 重男轻女 and all that jazz, but her dad had just laughed it off and said that they were just old-fashioned.
It was undeniable that she too took after her father's silly, convention-defying nature, and that she was truly a daddy's girl, and when she packed her bags to go to Hogwarts for the first time she expected to be in the same house as her parents! After all, she was just like Daddy, and if Daddy was in Gryffindor so would she. She'd been told not to trust Slytherin too much because they were generally cunning, she could recall her father saying, even if they weren't
all bad: some distant aunt was a Slytherin, if she remembered correctly, and of course there were Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw that were also supposed to be nice but they didn't matter, no other house mattered... Or at least, that was the way it was until the Hat sat on her head and said.
"You're destined for greatness."
The Hat then went on and on about remembering her parents and how they had been different too, how they were like her and could have fit into one of two houses, but before she could ask about what other houses they were in the Hat had chuckled and yelled to the Great Hall:
"SLYTHERIN!"
In a flurry of confusion she was quickly whisked over to the silver and green table full of cheering students; and that night she lay in bed crying, before scrawling out a letter and taking it to the Owlery the first thing next morning explaining exactly what had happened. Her father's reply was swift, and brought her eyes to tears once more:
"You're still my daughter, and I'll love you no matter what. Don't be silly. But just be careful, okay?"
And she couldn't help, despite all her common sense, couldn't help feeling like she had let her father down, disappointed the man who she had looked up to all her life even though he wrote regularly, sent her the nicest of gifts, and acted like nothing had changed: because he insisted, nothing
had changed, nothing had changed at all even though her mother was spending more and more time with her baby brother rather than her, it was stupid jealousy she knew, kids needed attention. But it couldn't help but create the feeling that amongst the sea of people she was always in, she was somehow alone. Quickly allying herself with friends from other houses, Rachael always remembered to keep up a front, to be cordial, to act like she was one of
them when there had been a mistake and she wasn't a Slytherin after all...
Right?
ADDITIONAL INFORMATIONPersonality: Her mind and her mouth go at a million miles per hour. Rachael is quick to act and quick to think, with a thirst for adventure and a drive to succeed. She is friendly, chatty, overwhelmingly so at times; but there is a warmth to her that endears her to people and renders her likeable. Sarcastic, blunt, but seemingly full of perpetual sunshine, many people wonder why she was not initially sorted into Gryffindor with her love for pranks and outgoing personality, and she plays up the act with seemingly brash actions and random talk.
Talk,
talk is all she's full of, using randomness and words to fill in the void where emotional connections to others should be. She acts like everything is all right even when it isn't; she paints a mask of happiness over her true feelings especially when things aren't going her way. It helps others underestimate her, after all. Because she is so loud and seemingly air-headed, people tend to think that her mind is full of fluff, and it is something that she hates yet loves about herself: the fact that people think she is always happy.
Perhaps she would say that she is generally content, but Rachael definitely has a very cynical, jaded view of the world. She believes that morals are relative and that humans are inherently evil, and distrusts most of her peers, especially her fellow Slytherins. She knows
exactly what she is capable of and why she was put into the house. Not many people would have guessed this but she is guarded, incredibly guarded, more so than anyone else. Willing to speak a mile a minute on every subject in the world except her thoughts, one thing about Rachael is that even if she allows you to see what she is feeling there is no way you will ever have an idea of what is going on in her head, and prying will likely result in her laughing and tossing you a quick change of subject.
Save for those who she regards as family or like family, everyone is held at an arm's length. She will make you comfortable around her and pretend that she is laying all the cards down on the table, all the while wondering whether people can catch the hidden undertones behind her chipper laugh and dimpled grin. She will tell anyone about her hopes and her dreams but god forbid she reveal a thing about her fears or what she really wants out of her relationships. You will think you are close to her and that she has given you everything she has got, but in reality, once you put the pieces together, she has held almost everything important back.
While it is unlikely that she will ever give you her full trust or see you as more than just another friend, she will be protective of you and do
anything to help you
if it is not of great inconvenience to herself. There is a hidden caring side to her, one that genuinely loves the people she holds close to herself and that have proven themselves to be loyal, and she will fight for their safety and wellbeing with everything that she has got, but that side is hard to truly access unless you have broken down her walls.
If you're truly with her, you always will be. And one day, when she gets to the top, she'll drag you up there as well whether you like it or not... Laughing and joking the whole dang way.
Appearance: Sexy, mysterious, and drop dead gorgeous...
Yeah, right.
Sure, she might have long raven locks that might give off a feeling of allure, and she stands at a good height of about five foot nine, but all of this is offset by a face that, on the occasion if you were to find it pleasing, would be adorable; perhaps pretty with the right grooming and make-up, but most of the time she is too lazy for eyeliner and foundation, or even the faintest tinge of blush. So what most would see are a pair of plain brown eyes, a little on the small side, which she hates. Her favourite facial features are her nose and a pair of nice lips, not too full and not too thin, just about the right size for her square jawline, made to look slightly less masculine by the way her hair frames her face.
Weighing at about sixty-two kilos, she is not chubby per se but there are parts of her that she feels like she could do with shaking off, namely the little bits of meat on her thighs. A flat stomach and broad shoulders however take away the illusion that she might be overweight, instead causing her to have a passably decent physique. As such she tends to wear clothes that emphasize the top half of her body while disguising her bottom half as something that might be more pleasing.
SAMPLE ROLEPLAYOption II:“Oh, come now!"
Astrid Bixby’s voice carried down the corridor, the tall blonde girl not far behind. Her interviewee – or victim, depending on perspective – turned a corner and she frowned. They were always so elusive when she needed them. Sure, they would talk as if there was no tomorrow during class, but once she actually needed them to say something, they were nowhere to be found. Gryffindors.
Flustered, Astrid stopped in the middle of the corridor and stared, her parchment hanging limply from her hand. She was a good reporter, really, and she always did her best to make sure that everything she wrote was accurate. She glanced down to the quill, eyeing it with disdain. It wasn’t her fault if her quill misquoted. How was she supposed to know? It made for interesting articles, at least, and if she had misquoted the Head Boy last term as saying he had a love for stuffed animals, then that gave him personality. Astrid sighed.
A pout formed on her lips as she turned away, discouraged. The corridor was mercifully empty, though the doors to The Spellbound – the school newspaper – were ominously closed. Corbridge was a mercifully sweet editor, but Astrid was terrified of disappointing her all the same. She had to come back with quotes.
Her eyes, blue, trailed her surroundings before choosing a new path, and she turned down a new corridor. A figure was ahead, and her eyes lit up, an impossibly rosy smile blossoming across her lips.
“Hey!” Astrid called, her voice light and singsong. She trotted to catch the person, her shoes clicking on the stone floor. “Wait up! It’s for the paper!” Her legs aided her admittedly poor running, and Astrid gasped as she came closer. “What do you think about serving frog legs at lunch? Some say it’s a delicacy, but others think it’s plain gross.”
Sample Roleplay Response:
She was surrounded, wasn't she? Confucius help her. Actually, Lao Tze needed to help her too. Oh, the great Qin dynasty emperors had better come down to Earth to do her bidding right there and then because she was
cornered and there was no way of backing out, so she needed all the divine ancestral intervention she could get. Even if they weren't really her ancestors (contrary to popular belief not all Chinese people were related) she could dream, right? Because she was faced by a certain blonde-haired girl who wanted answers, which the girl would inevitably twist into something completely irrelevant and full of crap.
Wonderful. Brown eyes narrowed at the girl's beaming face. Rachael had never been particularly fond of Astrid, and there was no reason to pretend to be. The two of them had never had much reason to interact in the past and frankly speaking, she hoped that they would never have any reason to interact in the near future. Which meant that she could be as mean as she wanted without having to act all sweet and happy. Oh yes. Sure, she knew she was going to get her name slandered in whatever magazine the stupid bitch was writing for, but hey, it wasn't like her reputation for crazy wasn't infamous anyway. If anything, nothing that the Quick-Quotes Quill could concote would have anything on what she was fully capable of saying if she wanted...
But then again, this was Spellbound. Every idiot and their mother in this school took the stupid magazine seriously, and while she did have a reputation for crazy she didn't exactly want her friendly image to be completely wrecked. Dang, she really needed to get her butt onto the committee so that she could take over and show them what
real journalism was. Which meant that she'd have to watch her words around this cow, just like how she had to do it around everyone else, huh? Man, there went the idea of flailing dramatically and throwing some fit about Astrid being racist. Frog's legs, after all, were highly valued in Chinese cuisine and she enjoyed having them with some rice congee back at home, and her initial game plan had involved calling Astrid out for disrespect towards her culture.
Not that Rachael was very cultural, of course, but what the blonde didn't know wouldn't kill her, would it? (To be fair, if it
did kill her, it would probably be a favour to all humanity.) Responding was out of the question, so she did the only logical thing to do in circumstances like these:
Lie.
"I've got to go to Potions, sorry," Rachael muttered, hoping that Astrid would think that her eyes narrowing earlier had simply been a consequence of her eyes being so small already- yes she was allowed to be racist against herself, double standards, what were they- "Sorry about that, but I'm sure that someone else would be able to answer you faster!" A smile, a skip, and a hop; and Rach was practically flying, running towards the other end of a corridor to a Potions hall that was, strangely enough, in the direction of the boys' bathroom.
Referred by Robert Oliveroot and Juniper Kedding.
