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→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.Name: Arcelia Grace Hunt
Birthday: 3/3/59
Hometown: London
Bloodline:Halfblood
Magical Strength (pick one):Transfiguration
Magical Weakness (pick one):Conjuring & Summoning
Year (pick two): 1, 2
Biography:The tingling in her fingers and the swirling in her belly made for an unsteady hand with her paintbrush. Add in the faster beat to her heart that was affecting her concentration and Arcelia was finding this to be a terrible painting. The fairy forest she was trying to paint as a gift for Aurora was looking more like something she made as a three year old. Not that she’d ever be great as an artist, but she knew she could do better than
this.
She dropped the brush into the bowl of water at her side and sighed. Her eyes left the muddled brown that was seeping too much into the green of the branches on the trees and across her bedroom. She knew the feeling that was causing her to ruin the painting, but she thought the act of painting would soothe her nerves.
Her eyes landed on her circular bed with the wooden background her and Daddy had painted to look like a sunrise over the sea in summer. Brown eyes trailed over the circular set of shelves built into the bed that started at the base and wound around to the top over the sunrise scene. There were favourite books and little pieces of artwork she’d created tucked into every single shelf. Seashells and sea glass collected from the shore were scattered about as well. The bed was unmade because she always had something better to do than organise things.
In just a short few days she wouldn’t see her room or sleep in her own bed for months and months. Everything was about to change and parts of her mind were telling her it probably wouldn’t be for the better.
Her focus turned to the left and the little piano that she’d painted violets onto the black keys after her daddy had given it to her. There were plenty of colourful smudges over the white keys too, since Arcelia could go from wanting to paint to wanting to play the piano in just a few seconds. She never cleaned those smudges either; the piano was just another piece of her artwork.
And something she wouldn’t be able to take to Hogwarts with her. Hogwarts had to have one, right? There were times she absolutely hated playing the piano, but there were other times when it was all she could think to do to clear her head. Not even throwing paint randomly at a canvas helped with that every time.
Her eyes strayed back over to the corner of the room she’d set up as her little paint studio. It was the closest to the window that overlooked the alley below and the building next door. There was also just a tiny sliver of the city beyond if she leaned far enough to the left. A city that would keep moving along even if she couldn’t go out and explore almost every day anymore.
There was still so much about London she didn’t know and now she was about to leave for a place she knew even less about. She’d asked her parents a little about Hogwarts but it was just in the last couple of weeks that the impending change began weighing on her so she hadn’t gotten a ton of information. Daddy barely mentioned magic at all. Her mum had been a little more helpful, it just hadn’t soothed Arcelia’s anxiety like she hoped.
Her fingers twisted together while her eyes fell over all the paints and brushes and various cups of water mingled with both finished and unfinished pieces. There were several palettes laying about, too, with different colour schemes on them. It was one of these that caught her eye as her new kitten, Sonata, decided to walk right across it. It seemed to be a recently used palette based on the little red and purple paw prints left on the wood floor after Sonata skipped across it.
Finally, some of the tension holding her down lifted and Arcelia giggled as she bent to pick up her new little friend. She spun around her room one more time with the kitten in her arms and told him, “I might have to leave most of this behind, but at least you get to come with.”
→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.House Request: Sort me, please!
Personality:Introverted but mostly in a way that keeps others from really getting to know her. She’s pretty friendly and good at making people feel comfortable. Very creative; she loves painting but is also musically inclined and enjoys playing the piano (most of the time). Generally shows her positive feelings through touch or with supportive words but is mostly emotionally distant. She has no problem telling someone if she doesn’t like them, however. She can be sensitive but is pretty good at hiding that from others. Don’t ever call her soft.
Appearance:She’s a bit of a fairy princess mixed with a little rebelliousness. She loves having her long brown hair in a pretty style and usually prefers wearing dresses. Over her dresses she often wears her Daddy’s old leather jacket, resized to fit her better, but still a bit big on her. She’s a bit under average as far as height for her age. Her big, brown eyes mostly look innocent (or naive, to some), but there’s also a sharpness that most people don’t see in them.
→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character. Remember, you can only roleplay your own character's actions, not Evangeline's or Hugh's.
Option 2:That rat of his was in for it now.
The gray little rascal had disappeared from his clutches at breakfast. Again.
Before Hugh even knew what was happening, Merlin had shot across the floor, somehow managing to avoid all the feet walking across the hall and had escaped through the open doors.
Which meant that Hugh was now stomping through rows of flowers and other various flora, searching for the small creature. It was like the rat knew Hugh was allergic to most flowers. Merlin always chose to run to the gardens whenever he got away from Hugh. It was as if the rat did not want to have him for an owner.
Hugh had named his pet Merlin because he had hoped the powerful name would give the rat more incentive to be more than a rat. Not that he expected Merlin to change into a wizard or anything, but rats were just so...useless, for the most part. With a name like Merlin, Hugh thought it might give the rat purpose.
The only purpose Merlin seemed to have was getting away from Hugh as often as possible.
As the fifth year trudged into the second row of flowers, not taking much care to avoid trampling the first row, he felt the first sneeze building up pressure in his nose and behind his eyes.
"You blasted rat! Where are you?"
He pulled apart a section of bright red flowers; he didn't know what they were called because he despised flowers, and ducked his head low to peer into the depths of the flowerbed. It was moving closer in proximity to the flowers that finally did it. Hugh took in three great breaths and then let out an almighty sneeze. It was strong enough to disturb some of the dirt on the ground before him.
Groaning, he stood up again and wiped his nose on his sleeve. It was as he was turning his head, his nose running up and down his arm, that movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Normally one who preferred to put his best face forward, Hugh was a bit embarrassed to be caught wiping his runny nose on his robes.
Nevertheless, Hugh put on his best haughty voice. albeit a bit thickly with his plugged nose and said, "Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare."
Roleplay Response:The gardens were one of the most colourful places in all of Hogwarts. There were shades of so many different colours, Arcelia wasn’t sure they all had a proper name. Not to mention the flowers that had different colours mixed together in their petals, creating swirls and patterns that the little girl could study her entire seven years in the school and still not see every single one.
It was one of the few places she’d found so far that helped her escape her own head. If she was concentrating on studying a new shape or working on her canvas to recreate one of the remarkable colours found here, she wasn’t letting her mind wander to the darker feelings that tried to find her if she wasn’t keeping herself busy enough.
"You blasted rat! Where are you?"The interruption scared her. A gasp flew from her mouth and her paintbrush skittered across the canvas, leaving a wide brown streak across an area that should have only had red. Arcelia huffed out a puff of air and began chewing the corner of her bottom lip as she debated if she could salvage the scene on her canvas or if she’d need to start over. Her head tilted side to side as she studied her piece and it was on one of those tilts that she saw a boy rampaging through the landscape she was trying to copy in her painting.
She jumped up from her cross-legged position on the ground and stood as tall as she could, gathering her voice and began to shout, “Hey-” when the boy released a great big giant sneeze.
Her anger evaporated and her hand closed over her mouth to stop a laugh escaping. She was still trying not to laugh at him when he seemed to catch sight of her.
"Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare."Arcelia shrugged. Maybe staring wasn’t polite, but she was an artist (or was trying to be, anyway), staring at people and things is what she spent a lot of time doing.
Her brown eyes narrowed on him as her arms crossed over her chest. “I wasn’t staring at
you. I was painting those flowers you’ve just ruined, so unless you want to become a part of my painting I reckon you should move.”
→ ABOUT YOU.Please list any characters you have on the site (current and previous): Calla Douglass and fam.
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