Application for Hogwarts School
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.Name: June Hale
Birthday: 15 May 1957
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee → Chelsea, London, England
Bloodline: Halfblood
Magical Strength: Divination
Magical Weakness: Charms
Year (pick two): Fifth (preferred), Sixth
Biography: Gold Rush, Runningby June Ann Hale
(To be played with a country guitar, the good kind with the twang, or otherwise a dulcimer if you must.)They tell you write what you know when the song’s yours for singing,
When the story is yours for to tell.
Well, sugar, ink, it ain’t cheap, and my fingers are stinging
So I’ve got my story to sell
My momma came up all church hymns, flax hair, and no wrongs
Out in the hills out in East Tennessee
But Nashville it called with its gold sirens song
So off to the city she did flee
Chorus:She was a gold rush, running:
All dreams and a sweet tune.
She was a gold rush, running:
Carried away in tender June.
But the city’s not sweet to all those who find her,
Even those sworn to never go back.
To make ends meet, ma, she crooned as a singer
And instead of success she met Jack.
Jack, he was sweeter than Tennessee whiskey
Except for when he took to the drink.
First came love, but not marriage, and the rest? They say, history.
Then nine months later, my momma met me.
Chorus:He was a gold rush, running:
All promises out to the moon.
He was a gold rush, running:
Left behind a tender June.
In bars and in brambles, with onlookers wolfish,
Well, it ain’t no place to raise a kid.
Still the life of a singer is one often quite selfish
So it’s what my sweet momma did.
But the show life ain’t fancy, no, it can be downright loathesome
And no matter how momma did try
She raised a daughter not wholesome but winsome and lonesome
With a voice sweet and hot as July.
Chorus: I was a gold rush running:
No matter what momma could do.
I was a gold rush, running:
Soft sighs and tender June.
So we worked nights on Broadway, honkytonks and bright lights:
Me, backing, and her, front and center.
And to the men gathered, on the stage she’d sing of old hills and sweet times
Until one made his mind up to win her.
He promised us riches and lives of pure leisure.
That kind of gold, you can’t fake it.
And when he promised to wed her and that we’d be a family, together,
Well, it looked like we might finally make it.
Chorus:He was a gold rush, running:
A new city, a new tune.
He was a gold rush, running:
A fresh start for tender June.
But there’s a truth the devil don’t tell when it comes to a wish granted,
One wrapped up in soft ivory lie:
That when you grow up hard enough to thrive in bars and in brambles
A life of soft living, well, it’ll make you want to die.
So here’s the truth of my story, the mission, the moral,
For those kind or dumb enough to ask:
It’s that if a man shows up promising a new life without quarrel
Tell him quite plainly to kiss your tender ass.
Chorus:Because I’m a gold rush, running:
Unfit for the silver spoon.
No, I’m a gold rush, running:
So long from tender June .
→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.House Request: I’m just here for the vibes.
Personality:June’s a girl caught in the middle. Raised poor by a country western bar singer single mother in Nashville, Tennessee, a recent marriage has found her living in glamorous London, England with a ridiculously rich step-father (and, unfortunately, a ridiculously uppity step-brother). Going from having not quite what you need to anything you could want is enough to turn anyone’s head, but it has done so to June’s in unexpected ways. She’s always been rebellious (or, as her momma might say, contrary), but now seems to revel in doing what she shouldn’t. She doesn’t seem to mind spending step-daddy’s money, though–especially on things she knows will piss him off. June’s a singer and a songwriter (
and the daughter of a singer-songwriter) so she sees most every experience as inspiration first and the actual event second. While she’s mostly good-hearted and a real salt of the earth sort, she doesn’t hold with much nonsense or with those who do. And she’s a country girl, through and through. In the Big City (what she calls London), she’s learning that those don’t make it far. She hasn’t decided yet what to do about that and is hoping she’s passing off the deer in the headlights feeling as a disdain for the upper class in the interim.
Appearance:June’s never been fancy. She never quite caught a tomboy reputation as a child, but she didn’t
not, either; she’s always been a bit in-between in that regard as well, especially in the way she carries herself and in her manner of dress. Nashville-bred, she loves a denim jacket and has on at least one occasion stayed up late with her momma gluing rhinestones on to one for a stage costume for their mother-daughter singing act. Biscuit-fed, June’s thicker in the middle and some would say
curvacious, but seems neither to care nor to be impeded. She’s got her momma’s raven hair and presumably her daddy’s green eyes, though she’s never met him to know, and lips most often painted red and humming a tune. She’s pretty, in that acquired taste way.
→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.Option 2:“Does your momma let you talk to strangers like that?”
June clicked her tongue, shaking her head slowly.
“Mine sure wouldn’t.”
It never stopped her, in truth, but the core of it was there: she had been raised better than to deploy such a tone on a person she’d never met. And so far as she had seen of the United Kingdom (which was, to be fair, not much in the few months she’d been there), June was under the impression that most here folks had been raised up in the same way. Better, even, she guessed. Of her long list of complaints about her new step-brother, his tone of voice when talking to strangers (June, presently, included) was not among them.
There was an exception for every rule, though, and perhaps this boy was one of them.
Still, she took a step forward, careful to tilt her foot just so as she went, displacing the spray of dirt his sneeze had sent scattering across her crew sock. It didn’t do much by way of cleaning it, but it was a garden, so there wasn’t much for it. The inside of the school still felt rough against June’s skin, all heavy stone and the sort of history so deep it felt like a breathing thing over her shoulder. She’d take the outdoors, dirt and all.
Besides, the boy was clearly in a state.
“Come on now,” she coaxed, talking to him as if he was much smaller than she was, though she recognized him as someone from her year. “Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face.” A snotty one though it was, June thought to herself, smiling richly at her private joke. “I’m going to venture it’s you, actually, that needs a spot of help.”
And even though the boy had done her no kindness, June had been raised better.
“I can offer you that.” And then, as an afterthought, she added, “If you’d like.”
→ ABOUT YOU.Please list any characters you have on the site (current and previous): Tallulah et al.
How did you find us?: Strangely, this time on Instagram?
