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Messages - Venetia Cadwallader

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In case it comes across as powerplaying  ;D:

Venetia brushed pieces of glitter that had evidently fallen from the tinsel off her coat before averting her attention to the man on the ground. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice devoid of sympathy. He evidently was fine - he was standing up now. While it had been an accident, poor weather conditions were no excuse for carelessness. She offered back the strand of tinsel before rifling a hand through her hair, ensuring it hadn't been ruined by being crashed into.

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E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Venetia Gwendolyn Cadwallader.
Gender: Female.
Age: Eighteen years. (date of birth 30th January 1929.)
Blood Status: Pureblood.

Education: 
Homeschooled until age eleven.
Hogwarts - Ravenclaw (class of '47).


Residence:
Wizarding London.

Occupation:
Works as a secretary at St Mungo's - she's unsure whether she wants to become a healer in the future.
(I've had this approved by Caly.)

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the Ministry, Shrieking Shack) or to take over an existing shop in need of new management?
St Mungo's.

Requested Magic Levels:
  • Charms: 12
  • Divination: 6
  • Transfiguration: 7
  • Summoning: 7
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
No.

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Nina McCormick.

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
Venetia was born in the late January of 1929 to Morgan and Urien Cadwallader. Their second child, Venetia has an older brother, Arthur, a younger brother, Pellam, and a younger sister, Caelia, who Venetia is closest to. A large and prestigious pureblood lineage, she shares her family's general dislike for muggle blood, and loves very little more than a good exclusively pureblood party. She enjoyed a sheltered childhood in one of her family's many Welsh mansions, spending much of her youth painting flowers from the garden and reading books. Having attended more dinners and parties by age eleven than many witches and wizards would in their entire lives, perhaps their prominence in her childhood is a reason behind Venetia's love of social gatherings.

Venetia adored her years spent at Hogwarts, and was saddened to have to graduate and go out into the real world. Sorted into Ravenclaw for the studious and academic nature her parents had invoked on her from a young age, she spent a large proportion of her teenage years enjoying classical wizarding literature, leading to her becoming extraordinarily well read. Her other passions at Hogwarts included charms lessons, painting, and attending all the parties she knew of. Despite her love of books and writing, she never considered becoming a journalist for Spellbound; she would hate to be reminiscent of a reporter, as she associated them with desperation, neediness and a lack of class. Regrettably, she never volunteered at the Hospital Wing - although shortly after leaving school, she realised that a job at St Mungo's would probably be the career most suited to her. However, with her lack of experience and the general commitment issues she suffers, she decided to get a less involved job at the hospital shortly after graduating.

Currently living in London, she is enjoying her job - it brings all the advantages of having a job at the hospital, without the whole pressure of having someone's life in her hands. She is considering getting a job as a healer, but as she general struggles with sticking to anything for any longer than a couple of months, she is unsure about beginning the training. In her spare time, she can usually be found reading, painting, or gossiping in a cafe with her closest friend, Rosalie.


Roleplay: 
You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character:

Option Two -
The snow had been falling steadily all morning and it didn't look like it was going to stop any time soon. Joshua Campbell scrunched his face up in a frown as he lifted his gaze to look to the sky. Snow. It really was quite a bother.

And it certainly didn't make it better that Diagon Alley seemed to be getting more and more crowded. Joshua sighed and pointed his wand at the large box that was currently placed on the doorstep of his shop. He had to get going. He had an order to deliver.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The elderly man muttered and watched the box hover in the air for a moment. Honestly, did St. Mungo's really need that much tinsel? And with glitter of all things? He sighed again. If it hadn't been for the rather convincing stamp on the order, he would have been likely to believe it had been a prank by one of those orphaned rascals living up there. 

Oh well, there was no point in waiting. Joshua deftly stirred the box down the doorstep and out onto the street, carefully levitating it above the heads of the crowd.

"Coming through! Coming through!" His voice sounded over the chatter of the crowd. "Keep out! Move ahead! Go on!" This was going way too slow. People were in the way and walking like they had all day! He huffed. Luckily the road was down hill.

"Coming through! Coming th--- arrrgh!" Joshua let out a loud shout as his feet suddenly slipped in the snow and sent him, the box, and several long strands of tinsel tumbling into the person who had been walking in front of him.

"For Merlin's sake!" Joshua muttered angrily as he hurried to his feet again, red and gold tinsel now decorating his black coat. "I am so sorry! This blasted snow!" He looked apologetic at the person he had crashed into.

Roleplay Response:
While Venetia cared little for turkey, stuffing, or mince pies, Christmas was probably her favourite time of year. For one, the weather was always picturesque - less enjoyable to actually be outside in, but always great fun to paint. The sky always looked so gorgeous, particularly at night, and painting the snowy ground required little effort - she was occasionally guilty of leaving it blank in her drawings. Secondly, Christmas seemed, to many, one of the only reasons to have a good party. There was little better than an excuse to have a fancy dinner, or an occasion to wear a nice dress to. Finally, Venetia loved presents. Whether it was giving or receiving, she found presents one of life's greatest joys.

To buy gifts for her family was worth going out in the snow. Diagon Alley was extraordinarily busy - perhaps many people had the same idea she did - and weaving her way among witches and wizards was made all the more laborious by the snow that persistently settled in her hair and eyelashes. She headed towards the bookshop of the Crimbleton family, one of her favourite haunts, to buy books for as many family members as would accept them. She just hoped that she wouldn't come away with more novels for herself than for her family, like last time. Those who wouldn't enjoy a good book, perhaps she could paint something for - and anyone else could receive a smaller gift, simply because they were being rather inconvenient. A great disadvantage of having such a large family as the Cadwalladers was present buying. Venetia had an impressive number of cousins.

As she walked up the final slope towards Crimbleton and Co., her feet sinking in the trodden down, greying snow, she heard a yell.

"Coming through, coming through!"

Venetia watched a man holding a box approach, running down the hill, and didn't really think to move: she was transfixed by what a Christmas-sy sight it was - a man holding a box, overflowing with tinsel, running down a snowy hill. If ever painted anything that wasn't a landscape, flower or portrait, perhaps an action scene would be it. Everything you could conclude from it was almost comical, and it would be interesting to draw something for the atmosphere, as opposed to for the beauty. It was then she was snapped out of her reverie by a thud, and some golden tinsel flying towards her. The man was now on the floor, and strands of tinsel adorned the snow surrounding them.

"I am so sorry! This blasted snow!"

Venetia brushed pieces of glitter that had evidently fallen from the tinsel off her coat before averting her attention to the man on the ground. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice devoid of sympathy. He evidently was fine - he was standing up now. While it had been an accident, poor weather conditions were no excuse for carelessness. She handed back the strand of tinsel before rifling a hand through her hair, ensuring it hadn't been ruined by being crashed into.


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