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Archived Applications / Wisteria Po
« on: 08/04/2012 at 07:45 »

THE BASICS
Name: Wisteria Po

Former Character's Name (if you had one):


CHARACTER DETAILS
House Request: I leave this completely up to you.

Year: First, Third.

Bloodline: Unknown (Pureblood- technically)

Magical Strength (pick one): Transfiguration

Magical Weakness (pick one): Divination

Biography: Wisteria sat on the musty couch, her hands placed precariously on her knees as she attempted to look as innocent as possible. She stared with wide eyes at the stinky landlord that lived above the flat that Wisteria and her mother stayed in. He always reeked of garbage and weeks-old dirty laundry, and today was no exception. His name was actually Stanley Smelter but he insisted she call him Mr. Smelter, or just sir, and that her mother call him Stan. Wisteria much preferred calling him Stinky Stanley, sometimes to his face.

But she couldn’t afford to call him any names at the moment because she was in deep trouble. Again.

It hadn’t been her fault, not technically. Wisteria had come home from a friend’s house that summer afternoon to find Stinky Stanley digging through their fridge, again. And when she had ever-so-politely asked him to kindly remove his smelly self from their flat he shifted around and grunted out the words he’d seemed to have memorized, “It’s my building, I’ll do what I want.”

She might have let him get away with it too if she hadn’t seen what he was holding. Now, normally Wisteria wasn’t one to waste theatrics on someone as dull and dimwitted as Stinky Stanley but she couldn’t help but exclaim, “Hey! That’s my birthday pudding! Put it back!” A pudding might have seemed trivial to anyone else but to her it was important. Her mother only made it once a year for her to have on her birthday, which had been the night before. 

At her outburst Stinky Stanley merely grinned, showing his slimy yellow teeth, and scooped out a bit of pudding with his grimy finger to taste it. She narrowed her eyes and then POP! The homemade chocolate pudding that Stanley had been holding in his meaty hand exploded, with tremendous force, up and out of the container, splattering all over him, the walls and the ceiling. The sudden burst of the pudding container had frightened her for sure and the kitchen was a complete mess but it was worth it to see the look of absolute shock on Stinky Stanley’s face. He had dropped the plastic container on the ground when it exploded and it was still spurting up gooey pudding onto the kitchen floor.

He shook his head for a moment at the messy scene before looking around in bafflement as if it were some sort of joke or trick. Then his eyes landed on Wisteria and her barely contained look of glee at his pudding covered face.

So Stinky Stanley stepped closer, wagging his finger in her face, his expression turning livid with rage as he sputtered, spitting chocolate all over her, “You think this is funny, girl? You think you can pull some sort of trick on ole’ Stanley? Just wait until your mother hears about this.”

Then, dragging Wisteria by the upper arm, he went into their cramped living room and pushed her down onto the couch, “Your mother should be home any minute now and you are going to explain to her exactly what happened.” Which got Wisteria thinking: What exactly did happen?

Even though she never touched it, she was sure that somehow that the pudding incident had actually been her fault. She just wasn’t sure how. And now she got the privilege of trying to explain why there was a container of pudding in the kitchen that was probably still spewing chocolate like a water fountain and why there was pudding dripping from the kitchen ceiling. Perfect.

“Did you hear me, girl?”

“Yes, Sir.”

So there Wisteria sat, waiting for her mother to come home with only a furious, pacing Stanley as company who occasionally muttered things to himself that sounded like he was reassuring himself he wasn’t crazy. It would have been utterly boring had Wisteria not been worrying about how she would explain a situation she didn’t understand, oh and if Stinky Stanley hadn’t still been covered in chocolate pudding. Still, she was beginning to wish she could take it back (whatever it was she’d done) and just be able to forget anything had happened.

When her mother did arrive home, Stanley wasted no time, dragging her into the living room and pointing a finger at Wisteria saying, “This little runt tried to kill me in the kitchen today!”

“With….chocolate pudding?” Her mother said slowly, taking in Stinky Stanley’s appearance.

“YES!” He said earnestly, clutching her mother’s shoulders. “Wait… well, no, with some sort of firecracker, or something, in the pudding in the fridge.”

“So she didn’t try to kill you with pudding?”

“No, well, she DID, I swear Lenore. Come see the kitchen.”

They went into the kitchen and talked for some time, with Stinky Stanley eventually stalking out of the kitchen and skulking back up to his floor of the duplex. Whatever her mother had said to him, it must have convinced him enough to leave them alone for the time being. Wisteria went around the corner into the kitchen to find her mother sitting down, staring at a pile of mail that had gone unsorted for the past few days.

Wisteria was amazed at how little she resembled her mother. Lenore Po was a tall, normally imposing woman with short, blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. Wisteria figured she must have taken after her father, whoever he was, because she was short, even for her age, with a dark, olive complexion and brown hair and eyes. The only thing she shared with her mother was her long oval face and a wide smile. Her mother looked like she hadn’t smiled in a long time even though she had the laugh lines to prove that she was indeed a happy woman at some point in time.

Her mother gave her a bright, albeit, somewhat forced smile, and for a moment Wisteria could forget the confusing incident and the rest of the tiny, uncomfortable apartment. She sat across from her mother at the little table in the corner of the kitchen and rested her chin on her folded arms.

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” But the way that she said it made Wisteria almost believe that her mother knew it had been her fault.

“Something came for you in the mail today.” Her mother said absentmindedly handing her the letter addressed to a Miss Wisteria Po.

Her eyes caught the seal on the envelope and they widened in confusion, then in anticipation. “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?”

“Sounds crazy.” Her mother said, her head snapped up from whatever bill she was looking at. She frowned and reached to take back the letter.

“Sounds perfect.” Wisteria said, somewhat spurred on by her mother’s strange reaction, while ripping open the letter to devour its contents.

But her mother could only sit there across from her staring at the letter like it was on fire. "But I'm a squib." She said quietly.

Wisteria looked up from the letter, "You're a squid?"

"No, a squib, with a B. It means I'm a non-magical person and I thought you would be too. Oh, I've been ignoring the signs for so long now. It's clear you take after your father."

"My father? Magic... wait, what?"

But Wisteria's mother could only continue to mutter to herself, something about pure-bloods, and suddenly the letter in her hands felt heavy as lead so she let it drop out of her hands and flutter down onto the table. Her vision became fuzzy and unfocused and the only thing she could see was the letter sitting innocently on the table, inviting her into a world she couldn't have imagined in her wildest dreams. A world that she, apparently, belonged to.

And only when the wild possibilities of this new situation hit her, did she slowly smile in anticipation (a slowly creeping feeling of needy ambition) and neatly fold the letter back into the envelope for safe keeping.


ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

Personality: Wisteria is ambitious to a fault, she jumps into new situations with gusto and without thinking them through too clearly first. She is clever, however her intelligence does not extend to the classroom. Wisteria is loyal and trusting towards only a select few people that she has known a long time. As such, she does not easily trust new people. This makes it difficult for her to make new friends. Most people are turned off by her initially cold disposition, however she can eventually warm up to some people, as mentioned.

Appearance: Wisteria is and always will be short and petite and she looks a bit younger than she actually is. She has a long oval face with an olive complexion owing to her Italian heritage. She has dark brown eyes and very dark brown hair.

SAMPLE ROLEPLAY

Option II:

Sample Roleplay Response: “Hey!” A light voice echoed down the corridor. A girl’s voice belonging to what appeared to be a tall blonde probably several years older than Wisteria (who wasn’t particularly in the mood to be talking to anyone seeing as she couldn’t find her way around the many winding corridors. Perhaps she could ask for directions…)

The girl, Astrid if she recalled correctly, was calling out something about it being for the paper, whatever that meant. Wisteria couldn’t have cared less, just so long as she got out of that infernal section of the castle and back to her dormitory. She had better things to do that day than wander about aimlessly.

By this point Astrid had reached her and had been blabbering on breathlessly about something to do with frog legs and then promptly leaned closer in anticipation with her quill at the ready to write down Wisteria’s response, which was bound to be a disaster given that she hadn’t been actually paying attention to the eager reporter. So she just said something real intelligent like, “Oh, um, frog legs, yes they sound…” Disgusting, revolting, slimy. “Interesting.”

Relaxing and slowly easing her way out of the girl's personal space, Wisteria breathed and tried her response again, hoping it came out more diplomatic than insulting. “To be honest I’m not sure what is was we were talking about but if you could possibly help me get to the main hall, I’d be glad to give you some quotes for your newspaper along the way. Deal?”

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