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Messages - Vivienne Fortescue
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« on: 19/12/2013 at 07:47 »
Transfer Application
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.
Name: Vivienne Ianthe Fortescue
Birthday: February 9
Hometown: Boston, MA.
Bloodline: Pureblood
Current Levels:
C8D7T6S4
Current Year:Junior (6th)
Year Requested:7th
Reason for Transfer:
Continuing her studies in the UK due to relocation. Closure of Salem Institute.
Biography:
“Smile, dear.”
Vivienne ignored her stepmom, Tinsley, who was cradling a towheaded toddler, her mollycoddled stepbrother, against her breast. What kind of name was Tinsley anyway? And Maximilian, really? She glanced stoically over the kid’s head and directed her icy gaze to her father.
“Are we there yet?” Rhetorical. They were smack dab in the middle of Hecate knows where, UK. Its barbaric weather and gloom threatening to split the poor girl’s head apart.
She stared up at the majestic Fortescue manor casting its oppressing shadow over her. Vivienne wrapped her fur coat tighter around her, trying not to flinch at the cold.
“Gran and her house elf ought to be here at any moment now…” Henry confirmed, pulling at the woollen scarf around his neck, rocking on the balls of his feet. He seemed nervous for someone so ‘excited’ for this goddammed reunion.
Sure enough, the massive oak doors opened to reveal a shrivelled figure. From Viv’s vantage point, she knew not whether it was her grandmother or the house elf. The girl suppressed her smirk, choosing to impress upon her impatience with her boot-clad foot ceaselessly tapping on the ground.
“Bout time,” muttered the 17-year old, rolling her eyes away from the waddling figure.
It was the house elf, unfortunately. The deformed creature called itself ‘Dolly’. Viv’s cheekbones were sore from not being able to guffaw at the irony, maintaining a poker face for hours on end was her record-breaking achievement, but this? This was a little too much. A small snicker escaped her lips just as the elf carried away their belongings.
Momentarily, a statuesque lady emerged from the dark hollow, wearing a silken robe, white curls tied up in a bun. There were deep wrinkles around her eyes and forehead - Viv tried not to cringe. The lady’s voice was high and her arms were outstretched, as if to gather them all to her non-existent bosom.
“Oh, my Henry!” She kissed her father on both cheeks and embraced him fondly, her wrinkled fingers fluttering on his back. She did the same to Tinsley, and Viv watched as the blonde tried to survive the constricting hug. Her grandmother cooed over the baby boy, making him wail and cry like the cur he was. Then, it was her turn.
“Ianthe?” For the love of Hecate! Instinctively, Viv stepped back from the old woman as the other’s bright blue gaze snapped to her own pale blue orbs. It was like staring into a distorted reflection of herself in a mirror.
“Oh, look at you! That face would’ve rivalled mine in my youth.” Ha! Vivienne thought, over my dead body. The old woman twittered more things and moved in for an embrace. Steeling herself, Viv tried not to push at the woman, accepting her warm fragility.
“Thank you, Grandmother.” A saccharine smile plastered itself on her glacial face, emotions all in check. How she detested to be touched without permission! In such a weather, she was sure that bacteria thrived most profusely. Viv shuddered at the thought.
“Nan, will do, Ianthe. And please, rid yourself of that horrible accent.” And by Hecate, her name was Vivienne! And what accent was she talking about?
In any case, she’d always imagined her grandmother to be some shrivelled hag, who had warts all over her face with bad breath accompanied with punctuating flatulence. The same went to her grandfather, the girl had supposed. Her fingers started to twitch in that familiar urge.
A stocky man came ambling out of the door, wrinkled fingers wrapped around a walking cane. He stood gallantly, without any indication of arthritis in his bones, his chest suffused with pride.
“Welcome home, my boy!”
Their Britishness overwhelmed Vivienne as they chattered, the girl gripped her skirts tightly, her lips trimmed down into a hard line. She had been right, they were hoity-toity people, the ones who put on airs, who fluttered and floated like they were goddamned butterflies but in reality, they were nothing but slowly rotting corpses. Vivienne shivered again at the imagery, and now, she supposed - she was one of them.
A Fortescue in blood and bone - she couldn’t run from that. Even so, there was something else that loomed closer on the horizon. In the fall, a mere two months further, she would be student in Hogwarts. Goodbye, beloved Salem.
Vivienne held her hand against the ticking vein on her temple, biting her lips until metal coated her tongue. She would have to do over her reputation, build her influence and climb that social ladder once more, push anyone who’d dare stand in her way - anything to get to the top. The urge to clean/arrange something became stronger.
Damn it, but she would show them all.
I'm the Queen.
→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.
[Hogwarts] House Request:
Slytherin, most preferably.
Personality:
Glacial and reserved, Vivienne comes off as a forbidding character. However the girl having bouts of unbridled anger is not quite unheard of. Having possessed a sharp, slandering tongue, she is capable of cutting down anyone she’s displeased with.
Vindictive and manipulative, Viv does not play fair. She will use any means, be it blackmail, bribery or deceit to acquire what it is that she wants. Having said that, she grew up duplicitous, spoilt and materialistic- might be due to the lack of a motherly presence in her life.
When under extreme stress, Viv might display her OCD-like tendencies, perhaps, to make up for the chaos in her life. Particularly, she is fanatical about cleanliness and order.
Also, she likes the color pink.
Appearance:
Vivienne has dark brown hair, light blue eyes and a pale complexion that freckles easily. Her face used to be heavily freckled, until she started using lemon juice to get rid of most of them (of course, they only faded off). She is generally slim, with just a bit of baby fat on her belly. Being vain, Vivienne is quite particular with her looks and obsesses over them more often than not.
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« on: 12/08/2012 at 04:51 »
Application for Salem Institute
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.
Name: Vivienne Ianthe Fortescue
Birthday: February 9, 1960
Hometown: Has origins in Devon, UK. They are currently based in the Boston, Massachusetts.
Bloodline:
Pureblood
Magical Strength (pick one):
Divination
Magical Weakness (pick one):
C/S
Year (pick two): 3rd or 4th (preferred)
Biography:
A knock on the door alerted the girl lying on her cot, buried beneath her quilted covers, eyes closed.
“Ianthe.”
That wasn’t her name. She refused to acknowledge it. Her grandparents gave it to her, and she hated them. She hated them as much as she hated her first name.
“Ianthe, darling. Open the door!”
Darling? Who’s darling was she? Definitely not her step-mother’s.
“Vivienne, please. Let’s talk about this.”
The dark-haired girl looked up, grabbed her pillow and threw it at her door, hitting the wood with a soft thump.
Too bad. It didn’t do as much damage as she expected, but it did quench some of her anger.
“Go away! There’s nothing to talk to about. I told you, I’m not going!”
She heard a sigh, then a jangle of keys.
“Vivienne?” A deeper voice queried. Dad.
Already?
Hastily, Vivienne kicked free of her blankets, jumping out of her bed, grabbing a chair, intending to prop it against the doorknob. She couldn’t let them in. Even if it had just been for show.
Oops, too late.
Her father, in his late 30s, with his immaculate suit and slicked back hair, entered. Tall and authoritative, his presence sucked in everything in her room, utterly frightening. Her stepmother leaned on the doorway, one hand on her unbelievably distended belly, she looked as if she was about to burst any time now.
Some folks told her about a baby growing in there.
Not that she cared, she hated it. It was all because of him, or her. Thank Merlin they weren’t at all blood-related. She wasn’t going to be associated to a lowborn cur.
Apparently, Gran and Gramps insisted on seeing the baby. They said they were too old to travel, that they were about to die. Their last wish was to see the whole family before they passed on, that the Fortescue Manor back in Devon, be handed over to their favourite son. Stupid old people and their death wishes, didn’t they ever think about her own needs?
She didn’t want to leave her friends (or little posse of social-climbers) behind. Boston was her hometown- her parents’ hometown- and she couldn’t imagine ever leaving it for good. It was like leaving behind a piece of you and expecting yourself not to ever miss it.
How could they? Her parents, part of the Institute’s alumni, were one of the school’s primary benefactors. Surely, they couldn’t just leave their alma mater!
“We’ve decided Viv, we’re moving to England next Summer. We just can’t leave you here.”
“Why the hell not?!” The 13-year-old screeched, her eyes brimming with tears, stomping her foot.
“Language,dear.” Her stepmom commented, easing herself on a chair, grimacing slightly. Viv glared at the woman, an offensive expletive came to the tip of her tongue, but she held back. Daddy was here.
“You know why.”
“This is unfair, Daddy! Please.” Skye looked up at him, pleading. She knew her Dad was a sucker for her tears. She was her daddy’s little girl, after all. He could risk a compromise.
“No, Vivienne.”
No. No. No. This wasn’t what she’d planned. Daddy was supposed to cave in to her shameless display of waterworks and let her stay with one of her snub-nosed aunts. Or something like that.
“I’ll let you finish the coming term in Salem. Use that time well.”
The door slammed shut on her face.
It only took one second before everything in the room began flying in a fitful rage.
Oh, they’d regret this someday.
She’ll have to clean up, first, though.
→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.
Society Request: Rook, probably. Divination.
Personality:
Glacial and reserved, Vivienne comes off as a forbidding character. However the girl having bouts of unbridled anger is not quite unheard of. Having possessed a sharp, slandering tongue, she is capable of cutting down anyone she’s displeased with.
Vindictive and manipulative, Viv does not play fair. She will use any means, be it blackmail, bribery or deceit to acquire what it is that she wants. Having said that, she grew up duplicitous, spoilt and materialistic- might be due to the lack of a motherly presence in her life.
When under extreme stress, Viv might display her OCD-like tendencies, perhaps, to make up for the chaos in her life. Particularly, she is fanatical about cleanliness and order.
Also, she sleepwalks occasionally.
Appearance:
Vivienne has dark brown hair, light blue eyes and a pale complexion that freckles easily. Her face used to be heavily freckled, until she started using lemon juice to get rid of most of them (of course, they only faded off). She is generally slim, with just a bit of baby fat on her belly. Being vain, Vivienne is quite particular with her looks and obsesses over them more often than not.
→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
Studying was one thing, but doing so with a seemingly standoffish partner was another.
Vivienne tucked a wayward curl back in place, patting it flat with the rest of her hair as she assessed her partner, Simon. She didn’t really know the guy, despite the fact that they’ve shared many classes -- she knew enough to put two and two together. The boy didn’t seem to like working with someone else.
Good news. Neither did she.
Vivienne wanted to do things her way, but that would mean forcing her will upon another, which she didn’t mind doing on a regular basis, of course. After all, her way was the best; methodical, precise, and unquestionable -- add a beguiling smile if necessary, and it worked like a charm.
But no, she wouldn’t be so barbaric. At least, not yet.
Perhaps, she should try a more subtle approach? She was fairly certain of the outcome and more often than not, the odds would positively work in her favor
Watching the boy, light blue eyes alight with curiosity; Vivienne tilted her head to one side, letting her hair rest on her shoulder, manicured nails sifting through the dark mass. A perfectly groomed brow arched in amusement.
She could do this all day but it shouldn’t be long now.
"How about I write the essay and stuff? You can just put your name on it. Sound good?"
A smile grew on the girl’s face, satisfied.
Well, about time. And she didn't have to break a sweat.
“Perfect.”
Vivienne twirled a lock of hair around one finger, staring the boy down.
Your move, Simon.
→ ABOUT YOU.
Previous Characters (if applicable): Sera M. and many more.
How did you find us?: Bored one afternoon, made google my bestfriend and tada.
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