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Author Topic: Asvarya Chadha  (Read 228 times)

Asvarya Chadha

    (24/12/2020 at 21:53)
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Application for Hogwarts School




→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.

Name: Asvarya Chadha

Birthday: April 22, 1946

Hometown: Liverpool, England

Bloodline: Pureblood

Magical Strength: Conjuring & Summoning

Magical Weakness: Divination

Year (pick two): fourth, third

Biography:
The house was close to bursting with the kaleidoscope of aromas from the preparations which were soon nearing its' apogee. Each new scent was the result of hours of work, the singular alchemy of spice and heat. Asvarya herself had been up since dawn-- chopping, measuring, stirring. Outside the broad windows of her auntee's kitchen, the sun leisurely rose as five generations of women toiled over the myriad of pots simmering into hissing fires and glowing ovens casting a reddish glow across inflating bread. A great-aunt clucked at and shooed a trio of desperate totting cousins too young to be responsible for a contributing task but old enough for their mouths to water for an early taste of the anticipated meal. In the other room, uncles and other male cousins shunned from the kitchen drank fresh chai while muttering over newspapers or intently bent over fashioning kites to chase after later.

Marking the transit of the sun, it was time to celebrate the harvest (although frigid January in England seemed all the more a contrast from the milder equivalent in India) and the coming winter’s end.

Asva gripped the handle of her large frying pan, watching the melted jaggery bubble.  Almost.

“Okay add it-- slowly… slowly!!” she chided with her superior knowledge. After all, she was the one in charge of the pan.

Her cousin Indali tipped over the shallow bowl of toasted sesame seeds, spilling into the sticky, syrupy jaggery as Asva worked to stir them thoroughly in. Not a moment after, tsking her tongue, she urged Indali, “Add it quicker-- before it cools too much!”

She watched the mixture come together, still bubbling, thickening with the seeds and chopped peanuts and cardamom. The toasted sweetness was added to the vivid ambience unmistakable of this annual celebration of many for which her family gathered. The sounds, the smells, the colors, and conversations which were new and yet the same all  swathed her in tradition. It was as predictable as the sun rising in the morning and the shifting phases of the moon. It was the order of things, a matter of course.

Picking up the hot dough and rolling it between her palms, as taught to her as her mother’s daughter, watching over her cousin’s efforts, “Roll it quickly before it sets.”

“Evenly! Make them more evenly," she pointed.
                           
Before long, their large pewter tray would be stacked full of the sweet, joining the burgeoning dining table which had plates which were stacked on and swapped for each new dish birthed from the kitchen. The family would eat, and rest, and laugh, and tell old stories and new stories until it was time to take the portkey to the Ganga and the Yamuna for bathing. And her pink lenga would be sodden and sacred water would be weighing down her wild, untamed hair. And as it dripped from her brows, she would see the solemn faces of her auntees, and her uncles, and cousins, and brothers and sister, each dripping, each reflecting. In the falling dusk, their radiating ripples would fan out, intersecting and disrupting in the undulating river sweeping them by.

And her senses would be awash with memories new and old; warm despite the coldness of the water. Asvarya, her family’s daughter.


→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
House Request: Ravenclaw

Personality:
Asvarya is not one to shy away from being the center of attention. As part of a large family, one must jostle and push your way to be heard. Though she is the third child out of four after her elder twin brothers, she is still the eldest sister. Which counts for something. If Asvarya has a thought on something, she will almost certainly speak to it and provide commentary even on subjects in which she may not be experienced, but surely she has read somewhere something profound which is very interesting. Even if she doesn’t know everything about something-- and really isn’t that a little unrealistic expectation?-- she at least has thought very much about it, likely. And that definitely ought to count for something.

Fear just an obverse of the coin of curiosity. And what better way to meet that fear except head on? Asva is not one to back down from a challenge, when flustered, her instincts are to rattle off all manner of reasons and motives to justify herself as she processes the new information. However, in the end, she tries to be fair minded even when doing so can be humbling.

In between studying to meet her parents’ expectations, Asva deeply enjoys romance novels and keeps a large stack under her bed. Consequently, the spell which she has the most experience with is most certainly ‘Lumos’.

Appearance:
Asvarya’s most striking feature is her eyes, not for their earthy color, but certainly for their direct clarity and the deftness with which she uses them to accentuate a point or else to burst into exuberant laughter. The effect is emphasized by the sharp kitten kohl lines painted on her upper lid.

As part of her morning routine was her favorite gift from chaacha* Manan, her perfumery set. It made Asva feel like a real raajakumaaree** to be surrounded in a delicate cloud of jasmine and agarwood. But she had been warned earlier on by her mother to not put on too strongly, but rather to be a flower in the breeze.

Her wardrobe is filled with beautiful colors and fabrics, mixing both her heritage and her Liverpool home with modern paisley and bold floral prints alongside bright silks and sparkling brocades. She had her father cast an expanding charm on her closet to fit her growing collection of clothes-- which of course made it easier to hide the increasing number of mini skirts. 


*chaacha - HINDI, paternal uncle
**raajakumaaree - HINDI, a princess


→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
Option 2:
Asva was twirling a gerbera between her slim flingers, feeling the smooth stem twist and turn as the petals fluttered with the movement. Enjoying the bright sunlight warming her dark hair, Asvarya headed to one of her favorite places on the grounds. It reminded her of her family’s potion store houses and the fields they owned back in India, fragrantly rich and abundant.  It wasn’t quite the same, but it was close, and in any case, better than any more hours in the library. She had already exhausted her wrist after many meticulous rows of ink, to the point of her palm smelling faintly of parchment.

By now, keeping up with her schoolwork was about as tedious as brushing her teeth. With almost little effort and fastidious handwriting, she breezed through her assignments and had little qualms about sharing her exhaustive notes with her friends. Afterall, the quicker she finished studying, the more she could read her novels. A parcel of new books had just delivered the other morning and she was dying to open them.

That was why today she had sped ahead several chapters for Charms and even written the introduction of the Runes essay due next week. All this would leave her the rest of this afternoon and then the weekend as well to enjoy her books in peace and possibly head to Hogsmeade on Saturday with her friends.

Just as she was coming up the path, she noticed another student floundering ‘round like an oaf. The look on his face was quite sour as well. But whatever was his issue-- it was no fault of the flowers. Interloper, she scoffed.

Quickening her steps and sending the pressed gravel scattering beneath her neatly polished oxfords, she came up to him, but the boorish boy didn’t even take notice until she was practically right in front of him. “Hmp!” she huffed with great exasperation. Until finally he noticed.

And was rude to boot. Who was this oaf to talk about what was and wasn’t polite? How arrogant.But what was she to have expected?Asva sighed to herself, from someone who was stumbling so carelessly through other persons’ hard work with no consideration?

“Well, if there was anyone who needed help knowing what was polite and what was not, I would think it is the boy who is trampling all of these flowers!” Color flared to her cheeks and her brows angled severely, emphasizing her disapproval.

Honestly. Boys do not know anything.


→ ABOUT YOU.

Please list any characters you have  on the site (current and previous):
Laskos et. al.

How did you find us?:
You mean that pm wasn’t a beacon?

* Calypso Ross

    (25/12/2020 at 12:55)
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Hey Asvarya, welcome back!

Your application looks good, there's just one thing you'll need to edit before we can get you accepted.

Asvarya's birthday is listed as April 22, 1946, which would make her a fifth year if she was in her correct year. However, you've requested fourth as your first choice, which means her birthday should be April 1947 to make her the correct age for her year. Assuming that there is no specific reason she would be a different age to her classmates, you'll need to edit either her birth year or her school year to make this correct.

Once you've made the required change, please repost your entire revised application below, and we'll be more than happy to take another look. Thanks!
look out! look out!
'CAUSE EACH TIME I FALL
I'LL BE CRASHING DOWN
RIGHT THROUGH YOUR ARMS

Asvarya Chadha

    (25/12/2020 at 13:49)
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Ah math.
Reposted :)



Application for Hogwarts School




→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.

Name: Asvarya Chadha

Birthday: April 22, 1947

Hometown: Liverpool, England

Bloodline: Pureblood

Magical Strength: Conjuring & Summoning

Magical Weakness: Divination

Year (pick two): fourth, third

Biography:
The house was close to bursting with the kaleidoscope of aromas from the preparations which were soon nearing its' apogee. Each new scent was the result of hours of work, the singular alchemy of spice and heat. Asvarya herself had been up since dawn-- chopping, measuring, stirring. Outside the broad windows of her auntee's kitchen, the sun leisurely rose as five generations of women toiled over the myriad of pots simmering into hissing fires and glowing ovens casting a reddish glow across inflating bread. A great-aunt clucked at and shooed a trio of desperate totting cousins too young to be responsible for a contributing task but old enough for their mouths to water for an early taste of the anticipated meal. In the other room, uncles and other male cousins shunned from the kitchen drank fresh chai while muttering over newspapers or intently bent over fashioning kites to chase after later.

Marking the transit of the sun, it was time to celebrate the harvest (although frigid January in England seemed all the more a contrast from the milder equivalent in India) and the coming winter’s end.

Asva gripped the handle of her large frying pan, watching the melted jaggery bubble.  Almost.

“Okay add it-- slowly… slowly!!” she chided with her superior knowledge. After all, she was the one in charge of the pan.

Her cousin Indali tipped over the shallow bowl of toasted sesame seeds, spilling into the sticky, syrupy jaggery as Asva worked to stir them thoroughly in. Not a moment after, tsking her tongue, she urged Indali, “Add it quicker-- before it cools too much!”

She watched the mixture come together, still bubbling, thickening with the seeds and chopped peanuts and cardamom. The toasted sweetness was added to the vivid ambience unmistakable of this annual celebration of many for which her family gathered. The sounds, the smells, the colors, and conversations which were new and yet the same all  swathed her in tradition. It was as predictable as the sun rising in the morning and the shifting phases of the moon. It was the order of things, a matter of course.

Picking up the hot dough and rolling it between her palms, as taught to her as her mother’s daughter, watching over her cousin’s efforts, “Roll it quickly before it sets.”

“Evenly! Make them more evenly," she pointed.
                           
Before long, their large pewter tray would be stacked full of the sweet, joining the burgeoning dining table which had plates which were stacked on and swapped for each new dish birthed from the kitchen. The family would eat, and rest, and laugh, and tell old stories and new stories until it was time to take the portkey to the Ganga and the Yamuna for bathing. And her pink lenga would be sodden and sacred water would be weighing down her wild, untamed hair. And as it dripped from her brows, she would see the solemn faces of her auntees, and her uncles, and cousins, and brothers and sister, each dripping, each reflecting. In the falling dusk, their radiating ripples would fan out, intersecting and disrupting in the undulating river sweeping them by.

And her senses would be awash with memories new and old; warm despite the coldness of the water. Asvarya, her family’s daughter.


→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
House Request: Ravenclaw

Personality:
Asvarya is not one to shy away from being the center of attention. As part of a large family, one must jostle and push your way to be heard. Though she is the third child out of four after her elder twin brothers, she is still the eldest sister. Which counts for something. If Asvarya has a thought on something, she will almost certainly speak to it and provide commentary even on subjects in which she may not be experienced, but surely she has read somewhere something profound which is very interesting. Even if she doesn’t know everything about something-- and really isn’t that a little unrealistic expectation?-- she at least has thought very much about it, likely. And that definitely ought to count for something.

Fear just an obverse of the coin of curiosity. And what better way to meet that fear except head on? Asva is not one to back down from a challenge, when flustered, her instincts are to rattle off all manner of reasons and motives to justify herself as she processes the new information. However, in the end, she tries to be fair minded even when doing so can be humbling.

In between studying to meet her parents’ expectations, Asva deeply enjoys romance novels and keeps a large stack under her bed. Consequently, the spell which she has the most experience with is most certainly ‘Lumos’.

Appearance:
Asvarya’s most striking feature is her eyes, not for their earthy color, but certainly for their direct clarity and the deftness with which she uses them to accentuate a point or else to burst into exuberant laughter. The effect is emphasized by the sharp kitten kohl lines painted on her upper lid.

As part of her morning routine was her favorite gift from chaacha* Manan, her perfumery set. It made Asva feel like a real raajakumaaree** to be surrounded in a delicate cloud of jasmine and agarwood. But she had been warned earlier on by her mother to not put on too strongly, but rather to be a flower in the breeze.

Her wardrobe is filled with beautiful colors and fabrics, mixing both her heritage and her Liverpool home with modern paisley and bold floral prints alongside bright silks and sparkling brocades. She had her father cast an expanding charm on her closet to fit her growing collection of clothes-- which of course made it easier to hide the increasing number of mini skirts. 


*chaacha - HINDI, paternal uncle
**raajakumaaree - HINDI, a princess


→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
Option 2:
Asva was twirling a gerbera between her slim flingers, feeling the smooth stem twist and turn as the petals fluttered with the movement. Enjoying the bright sunlight warming her dark hair, Asvarya headed to one of her favorite places on the grounds. It reminded her of her family’s potion store houses and the fields they owned back in India, fragrantly rich and abundant.  It wasn’t quite the same, but it was close, and in any case, better than any more hours in the library. She had already exhausted her wrist after many meticulous rows of ink, to the point of her palm smelling faintly of parchment.

By now, keeping up with her schoolwork was about as tedious as brushing her teeth. With almost little effort and fastidious handwriting, she breezed through her assignments and had little qualms about sharing her exhaustive notes with her friends. Afterall, the quicker she finished studying, the more she could read her novels. A parcel of new books had just delivered the other morning and she was dying to open them.

That was why today she had sped ahead several chapters for Charms and even written the introduction of the Runes essay due next week. All this would leave her the rest of this afternoon and then the weekend as well to enjoy her books in peace and possibly head to Hogsmeade on Saturday with her friends.

Just as she was coming up the path, she noticed another student floundering ‘round like an oaf. The look on his face was quite sour as well. But whatever was his issue-- it was no fault of the flowers. Interloper, she scoffed.

Quickening her steps and sending the pressed gravel scattering beneath her neatly polished oxfords, she came up to him, but the boorish boy didn’t even take notice until she was practically right in front of him. “Hmp!” she huffed with great exasperation. Until finally he noticed.

And was rude to boot. Who was this oaf to talk about what was and wasn’t polite? How arrogant.But what was she to have expected?Asva sighed to herself, from someone who was stumbling so carelessly through other persons’ hard work with no consideration?

“Well, if there was anyone who needed help knowing what was polite and what was not, I would think it is the boy who is trampling all of these flowers!” Color flared to her cheeks and her brows angled severely, emphasizing her disapproval.

Honestly. Boys do not know anything.


→ ABOUT YOU.

Please list any characters you have  on the site (current and previous):
Laskos et. al.

How did you find us?:
You mean that pm wasn’t a beacon?

* Pythagorea Proud

    (27/12/2020 at 16:49)
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Dear Miss Chadha,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Term begins 1 January 2021. Currently, students have gathered at Camp Loki, and we encourage you to spend your summer there. Should you choose, you may also visit our Elsewhere board via the Floo Network to visit or purchase school supplies.


Yours sincerely,

Deputy Headmistress
F.O.I.L.-ed Again! Tee, hee hee.

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