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Messages - Charlotte Noble

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Elsewhere Accepted / Charlotte Noble
« on: 03/04/2015 at 23:14 »

E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Charlotte Amelia Noble (Arterberry)
Gender: Female
Age: 35 1/5/09
Blood Status: Halfblood

Education: 
Hogwarts - Ravenclaw

Residence:
Noble House - Cambridgeshire, England

Occupation
Housewife & Noble Lady

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?
No

Requested Magic Levels:
Adult characters have 32 starting levels to distribute across these four categories (less levels can be used if you so desire, but no more than 32). The number of levels on the lowest ability must be at least half of the highest ability.

If you want levels above the usual 32 total, or a significantly uneven distribution of starting levels, please fill out and submit the Special Request form here.

  • Charms: 10
  • Divination: 8
  • 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?
The Noblessss

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Calla Locksley Douglass and Co.

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
In many ways my life has been charmed since the day I was born. For years my parents had tried and failed to produce a child. Even for the time, their failures at becoming pregnant were well above normal.

My arrival was met with much joy. I was cherished from my very first day in the world. Perhaps too cherished. It was apparent to them as I grew that I would be a great beauty. Long blonde waves, that my mother always refused to cut for as long as she possibly could, framed a heart-shaped face with piercing blue eyes, a button nose and rosebud lips. I was an anomaly to my plain, mousy parents.

They saw my beauty as a gift, as a way to raise their station in life. For selfish reasons, of course. Our family was on the nearly nonexistent branch of the Arterberry family. Both of my parents, although namely my father, had always strived for more. There was only so much reaching one could do, however, with very little means.

The took my abnormal beauty as a sign they truly were meant for greater things, to live a better life.

I was not so convinced that I was this ethereal creature they made me out to be. Blonde hair and blue eyes were not so uncommon. Over the years I would point out similarly-looking girls to my parents but they would only hush me.

To their credit, even if it was mostly for selfish purposes, they did give me the best that their meager earnings could afford. I was forced to attend every party they could muster an invitation to; and they tried so very hard to thrust me at every rich Pureblooded man they could find. I was taught grace and respect; etiquette and anything else deemed necessary for a young girl of highborn standing (even if that was not me).

This was not the way that most children wanted to spend their time but I did it without a word of complaint. Overbearing and ambitious they may have been, using their only child as a pawn to promote themselves, they were still my parents. I could sense that they loved me even if they did not always know how to show it.

Though I had caught the eye of many families looking to make a match for their son, even before starting school, it was not until I was around twelve or thirteen that a member of the opposite sex caught my attention.

Elliot Noble was everything a young man ought to be. Respectful, but not boring, well-spoken, but not arrogant, charismatic, but not obnoxious. Reserved, but not taciturn.

At first I wasn't sure if my attraction to him was based upon what I had always been told was attractive in a man or because I had found someone that spoke to me on a deeper level. It wasn't until I learned that he was a Halfblood, like myself, that I felt the attraction was real. For years it had been ingrained in me that marrying a Pureblood was in my best interest. To be so taken with a Halfblood it had to mean something significant.

Unfortunately, for a very long time, it felt that our friendship was all it would ever be. At times I felt more like Elliot's little sister than even a friend. I was nearly a handful of years younger than he, it was never something I expected to amount to anything, even if I had deep hopes it would.

And a proper lady never gives into temptation. Until one day, I did. We did. Suddenly the way Elliot looked at me changed and I knew what it meant.

Years, and six beautiful children later, and we still love each other just as much as we did that day.

Yes, my life has been charmed in many, many ways.


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

Option One -
Amelia Nixon was many things, but she was never a pushover reporter that people could just usher away with a busy shuffle past. She was dedicated and eager to cut to the very middle of the current political tensions because she was Amelia Nixon and her articles would most certainly become front page material.

“Sir, please! It’s for the Prophet, how do you feel-“

Another one brushed passed her, the shuffling busy masses making their way through Diagon Alley for the lunchtime rush. This had been the best possible time to get people, but none of them were giving her anything to go with.

Only momentarily discouraged, the short red headed lady took a seat on a nearby bench. Her quill resting in her left hand and her notepad ready in the opposite hand. Amelia pouted, tapping the quill against her leg as she scanned the waves of people for somebody - anybody - who looked like they had something to say.

She had been dreaming of her name in bold print, Amelia Nixon: The Source of Today’s Tomorrow. She had been dreaming of the larger office and the secretaries that would fetch her the morning coffee and fetch her anything she needed. The VIP interviews and the most exclusive press passes. But all Amelia had was a page seventeen piece on the rising number of frogs in London.

Hardened by a day of no success, the reporter stood up and started to trod off down the alley. A loose stone on the cobble path caught her heel, sending the distraught girl toppling down to the ground.

“Merlin’s fog watch, my heel is broken! Help!” she yelled as she tried desperately to recover her shoe frantically in the middle of the Diagon Alley moving crowds.

Roleplay Response:
Charlotte had been walking purposefully down the street, her long hair settled neatly against her back and magically shined black heels clicking sharply against the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley.

Several of her children needed school supplies for their upcoming year at Hogwarts and Charlotte was the type of mother to do all their shopping, unless they cared to trail along with her. They usually didn't and she didn't blame them. It was still their summer and they were kids who deserved to be having fun and making friends in this new environment.

The only one along with her was little Marjorie, tucked against her mother's hip, and babbling nonsense at all the passersby. Marjorie was her youngest and the one that looked most like Charlotte herself. Charlotte was not prone to leaving the four year old with babysitters.

The reporter's shout for someone to answer a question was met with a sharp click of Charlotte's tongue in disapproval. That was no way for a young lady to behave. It was no wonder none of the people in Diagon were stopping to answer her.

It wasn't until Charlotte had passed the woman herself and had moved on that she heard the woman shout again, except this time it was even more in distress than before. Charlotte turned and sighed. Though the woman clearly had not had any kind of etiquette or behaviour lessons growing up, Charlotte had. It would be rude to leave a woman sitting in the street without offering some help.

Turning back and coming to stand beside the redhead, Marjorie was set on the pavement and Charlotte grasped her hand firmly. Stooping, she reached out for the shoe, cringing just the tiniest bit at the state of it.

"Perhaps it broke because it is very old? Maybe it is time you purchased new heels."


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