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Messages - Ivory Summers

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Archived Applications / Re: Ivory "Baby" Summers
« on: 29/08/2015 at 05:48 »

Application for Hogwarts School

Name: Ivory "Baby" Summers

Birthday: 14th February, 1930

Hometown: London, England

Muggleborn / Halfblood / Pureblood / Unknown

Magical Strength (pick one):
Divination / Transfiguration / Charms / Conjuring & Summoning

Magical Weakness (pick one):
Divination / Transfiguration / Charms / Conjuring & Summoning

Year (pick two): 5th year!!  But...if that’s not possible, 6th year

Ivory was born into a broken home.  She was the unwanted result of a careless drunken night between a disowned muggleborn witch and a rich muggle businessman, and neither of her parents wanted anything to do with her.  Her mother had always been depressed, rejected from her family upon the discovery of her powers, and Ivory, in turn, suffered a similar fate.  Her parents never married - had met only once before Ivory, as a tiny, pale-skinned baby, was left - chilled and whimpering - at the door to her father’s home.

Ivory’s father had never been a particularly gentle man - the ambition had washed it right out of him - but the housekeeper had already seen the child, so he couldn’t very well abandon her without ruining his pristine reputation.  So, with some amount of reluctance, he took the babe in, though she was left under the care of the housemaid Emilia, who named the child Ivory after her pale, delicate skin.

Business was good then, so Ivory’s father didn’t bother to be rid of her.  And she never a nuisance, because from a very young age she knew there would be consequences for getting in her father’s way.

They carried on this way for a few years, and little Ivory matured faster than any of her peers - peers that she never once saw.  Ivory didn’t play with dolls, or run about the house grinning like most children her age.  Ivory learned how to make coffee just right, how to clean the house, how to do laundry.  How to stay clear of her father.

Ivory was five when the business fell, a result of bad budgeting and disregard for the great financial depression that had swept its dark hand over the nations.  That day her father came home an angry man - promptly fired the maid and shattered their crooked routine, in which Ivory was timidly safe and strong - taciturn.  That night he broke into his whiskey stores and never locked them again.

It was the same year that Ivory began her muggle schooling, and the months stretched out across universes to break down her spirit.  Yet, Ivory was no thing to be cast aside, and her bones had been cast in steel.

Then two months before Ivory turned seven, the Time Warp swallowed up her broken world.

She awoke that morning to a musty, empty house and a trembling pit in her stomach.  And she took that whisper of a chance.  She ran the streets of London like they were her solace, for that was - indeed - what they were.  A freedom from her father's drunken sway and barbed-wire sneers, and a choice: to continue on trapped, terrified, and hidden away, or to live a life for the lowly.

And it was the lowly she chose.  For exactly two months and eleven days Ivory was as a rat off the streets.  She took santuary in staying hidden from the other wanderers, found relief in the thrown-out garbage leftovers and the hours spent observing the peculiar and expected behaviors of the passersby.  And it was then, three days before her seventh birthday - as she gazed out from her corner for something to look at - that she was found.

By Emilia, her father's old housemaid.

And with her in her little apartment she lived comfortably frugal until the arrival of that beloved, long-anticipated letter.  The morning was a symphony of wrinkling papers and Emile's shaking hands (for she - the unfortunate soul - was a squib, and had never received such an honor), and Ivory couldn't move, for she knew that once again, she would have to find a new life for herself.

It was on the first day of term - freshly sorted - that Ivory first saw him - Action Grey, sitting there in all confidence and stability.  The leader of a little pack (of wolves, they seemed, for they grinned and batted at each other like reckless little cubs), and Ivory knew in an instant that she needed to be with them.

With him.

And her wish was granted, though even now it is questioned and her validity in the group is a half-hearted joke passed between cigarettes, while Baby (for so they dubbed her) sits upon her beaten-down purple throne.  They'll defend her to the end of the line, but for the life of them they won't make the road easy on her.

And Action the least of all.

Action is the king to Baby’s lionheart.  He is the spiteful dragon holding her captive, and he breathes fire on her - the bellows of her spirit, the flame of her soul, the destroyer of her heart’s will.  As Action lives, Baby will stand by him, ever committing to her downfall by his poisoned mouth.

The pain that her father caused is long past healed - soaked up in that ivory-steel skin and bone through the mercy of time alone.  But Action's words and careless deeds would take much more than a few days or a well-placed spell to run from.

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

House Request: Whatever you think works best, but not Gryffindor please, as Ronnie's already a little lion cub <3

Personality: Baby's a tough cookie - strong and unafraid of telling off the boys when they screw up, a perfect little punching bag with a couple hits behind its eyes - but she's also a big softie; a mama bear if ever there was one.

Appearance: Ivory has brown hair and a pretty face.  Had she not been the way she was - had she been more keen on the company of girls than of boys - and had she not become so attached to Action, Ivory might’ve been very well-sought-after.  As it is, she is the object of affection for a few young boys - mostly eager, unassuming lads that look upon the voodoo crew with admiration and envy.

Please reply to one of the Sample Roleplays below.

Option 2 Response:

Ivory was not in a good mood, and it showed on her face.

Stupid Slick and his stupid flirting.  Stupid Cloudy and his stupid immature taunts (none of which, to Ivory's fury, were noticed by the other boys - where they all deaf and brainless?).  Stupid Action and his stupid, stupid messing around with her - did he not have a clue what sort of pain he caused?

But most of all, stupid Ivory for forever giving them another chance.  It was true then - she couldn't stay angry with them for long.  And especially not Action, whose boldness and lean stature sent shivers down her spine, and whose touch (though completely platonic, much to Ivory's chagrin) sent a thrilled whisper of a grin to her lips.  His voice - low and agonizingly haunted - was the bane of her otherwise firm resolve.

When it came to Action, Ivory was completely hopeless.

She'd only been with them for an hour before she had to excuse herself.  The subject of today's discussion was her least favorite - girls.  The boys were particularly awful when flaunting about the topic, and they all saw fit to brag about their exploits - how infatuated that blue-eyed Ravenclaw girl had been when they asked her to walk beside the lake with them, how star-crossed the fiery-haired Gryffindor when they kissed her.  And Ivory most definitely did not want to hear another word about Action's precious little star.

It was obvious that the summer had been kind to the boys - but it had turned its back on Baby; the hot-and-cold weather had found her chilled for a large portion of the holiday, and not even Scamp had visited her in early July when she'd been bedridden with fever for days.

Slick - her strangest annoyance, and the last person she wanted on her back - seemed to be the only one out the group who even saw her for what she was: a woman, and a pretty one at that.

And Cloudy - perhaps worst of all - wouldn't stop shooting her those awful knowing looks.  She was growing quickly tired of his careless quips and smirks in her direction, and the backhanded advice he threw at her - the winks, the smirks, the glances between her and Action, the raised eyebrows.

She had to get away from it all.

Walking through the gardens had meant to be a method to calm her down, but Ivory had never found solace in the flowers.  The petals of a rose fell individually from her fingers - wrinkled and smudged - perhaps as a twisted parody of the age-old tradition.

He loves me, he loves me not.  He loves me, he loves me not.

Ivory hadn't meant to be disturbed, and especially not by a foax-haughty, snot-smearing lad.

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

Baby quirked an eyebrow at him.  "Neither is it polite to pretend to be something you're not," she countered.  In other circumstances, she might have been more friendly, but now, she remained red-hot and unforgiving.  "And I suppose you, too, have a reason to hide?"

They all did, didn't they?  And this boy looked especially shifty - he had the same look in his eyes that Cloudy wore when he greeted her; his actions were polite, but the shine in his eyes showed a different emotion.

Well, Ivory was sick of false pretenses.


Please list any characters you have on the site (current and previous): Ronnie Jay Beckham and Victoria Lisbeth <3

How did you find us?:  Goooooogle, I think it was

Archived Applications / Re: Ivory "Baby" Summers
« on: 28/08/2015 at 13:06 »
Ack. Sorry, the above application was meant to be submitted with this account.  I apologize OTL

AW what a cute lil boyyyy
he's still up for adoption, all you lovers of epic bookworm charries <3

xoxo, baby

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