Post by LUNA ELIZABETH LOVEGOOD on Jun 24, 2011 19:06:09 GMT -5
ANOTHER SWINGER WITH A SLICK TRIGGER FINGER
FOR HIS/HER MAJESTY[/FONT][/COLOR][/SIZE]
LUNA• ELIZABETH • LOVEGOOD ![/B]
the world is made out of boxes that i don't fit in .
ANOTHER ONE WITH THE GOLDEN TONGUE[/b]
• AND THEY'RE POISONING YOUR FANTASY • [/FONT][/COLOR][/SIZE]
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FULL NAME;
NICKNAMES;
AGE AND BIRTHDAY;
BLOOD STATUS;
HOUSE;
ALLIANACE;
ANOTHER TRICKY LITTLE GUN
• GIVING SILENCE TO THE ONE • [/FONT][/COLOR][/SIZE]
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HAIR DESCRIPTION;
EYE DESCRIPTION;
HEIGHT/WEIGHT;
BODY TYPE;
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES;
PLAY BY;
ANOTHER INCH OF YOUR SACRIFICED LIFE
• IN JUST THE NICK OF TIME • [/FONT][/COLOR][/SIZE]
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PATRONUS;
DEMENTOR;
BOGGART;
ERISED;
AMORTENIA;
OVERALL PERSONALITY
ANOTHER GUN THROWN DOWN
• TO TAKE AWAY YOUR FEARS • [/FONT][/COLOR][/SIZE]
[/center]
FATHER;
MOTHER;
SIBLINGS;
BIRTHPLACE/HOMETOWN;
CURRENT RESIDENCE;
OVERALL HISTORY;
ANOTHER MAN THAT STANDS BEHIND
• LOOKING AT YOU IN THE MIRROR • [/FONT][/COLOR][/SIZE]
[/center]
NAME/ALIAS; ash
AGE; 17
RP EXPERIENCE; 4-5 years, but new to HP
ANYTHING ELSE; hello. (: ! the rp sample is hermione if that's alright, because i am too lazy to find luna's. i can find hers if you want, though.
RP SAMPLE;
There wasn't any possible chance, that to what Hermione was seeing was real anymore. She knew well and she knew clearly that finding your body located in a different generation and waking up in a completely different time period was simply just preposterous. Yet, here she was standing on Hogwarts' ground from twenty years ago. Here she was, standing in amiss of students that she was supposed to see in her time as adults. And yes, she saw them too here, befuddled with the similiar astonished look Hermione was showing, if not similarly infuriated like her too. Nothing made sense to her anymore.
The young trees, and adolescent teenagers around her. And that made her more angry then she could ever imagined. Not even the libraries, or handful of books had assisted her, and not her intelligence she was clearly proud of had no reply for any sense for her predicament. Although she felt a bit wonderful that Harry could see his future-late family again, and also Ron with his deceased too, Hermione was left with nothing. Just with utter dissappoint, her own wits, and a worry. A worry that could penetrate her mind for months, that both her best friends seemed to strangely be intrigued to be with at the moment; her family.
Standing, with the most revolting migrane she possibly could ever had, she walked out of the library and had no use other then to give up. Yes, oh how un-hermione-ish this could of been but she could swore (and maybe it could be even true) that she had read all the books from Hogwarts: A History, to Weird Wizarding Dilemmas and Their Solutions a million times, and still there were no answer not even the reward of a hint displayed in any of the pages, only to display a more affronted Hermione in the library's hands and she couldn't help but to leave, having no sense of reason to be there anymore and also no sense of a barrier that was holding her temper. "...And the library never disappoints me." She murmured impatiently, clenching her fists ever so softly. "There has to be something in that bloody place to tell me. Anything! It's impossible, just impossible for the library to have no answers!"
But it did. For the little chances of ever it happening, Hermione's wits and books had been defeated. But had defeat, have to taunt her so ' fragile ' like this? So easy to let it go in her head? Here she was, ambling her haven she always loved, her area that never deluded her in all her life and yet still, how defeat could be so smugly leaving her in this place without any answer or any conclusion that this was possible, not even if this was actually some sick dream that someone was playing the puppetmaster over her, controlling her life. No, nothing, she'll say it once and she'll say it again---"No, nothing is making sense at all." And the only thing she could make use of herself was to follow the slightly younger Dumbledore's tips--- play the game of an transfer student. Which she found no more amusing then she finds when people snicker watching Ronald eat.
And that my friend, she is disgusted by.
But only if she could rather feel disgusted then mentally insane. Sure, hide your identity to the soon professors you have already met, but what happens if there's no loophole out of this? What happens when the Dark Lord rises back and the 1970's are over and everyone who's stuck here sees the baby of who's already been alive? Nothing fantastic will happen ever that would be obvious, and as Hermione's newly mind had been pulled whole with questions with no one to answer, she mentally pulled them back and held on her temple.
She needed a time off. Just something to get her out of this hindering state.
And supposedly if that meant doing what the normal transfer student would do (which by the way, wouldn't any staff if not the ministry be questioned about this?) she went off to travel to Hogsmeade to get what she needed for school because after all, if she was going to have to stay here she couldn't take her doubt in front of her education. School was school, and Hermione isn't going to drop out because she isn't in her own time period. It's not like she can't learn something just because she's in a older time, anyway. Heck, she might even learn something more in the past you never know.
Leaving Hermione lucky that their Headmaster was still a altruistic and generous man, she was content that he'd allow her to both go and also give her some currency to bring along (Which then again, another thought popped in her brain, her belongings she was left nothing where had everything gone?) And quickly only ignoring her mind for the time being she was left, and found in the beautiful's fall breeze as she lit down and vaguely grinned momentarily watching the scene of the small town she knew best and loved, happy that there was at least something that hadn't changed much; Hogsmeade. And also the familiar place she always shared a joy to go in, Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. Like she even thought about going to Zonko's for the things she needed most. Hermione Granger was no child looking for a toy, for a excuse of a quill.
Ambulating inside trying to make herself as small as possible, she sighed albeit less stressed now feeling the mundane yet elderly aurora grow tense within her mind. To Hermione it hadn't changed much, really it didn't. Everything was set normally in place, perhaps with a few changes when it came to position, and maybe a bit chatty elders (or well, former elders) that seemed to create the scenery more joyously. Which frankly, Hermione didn't mind that much. She needed some support in cheering her stressed and agonized days and it gave it to her, even it was just a bit. If only if she could see the elder man back on the desk, welcoming her name and sharing his own thoughts about new merchandise could she feel a bit better. The time she thought about it, she really missed the little things in life right now.
Foraging around, she took much notice of the background of the quill shop in more detail. It's lamps were a bit out-dated, the quills were a bit modified, and the ink looked much older then what the seemed at her time ironically. But out of everything, most of what she saw had been practically normal, and she almost felt like she was actually back in her time, in the 1950's.... Why, it almost looked like she could even see a girl, a older girl she recalled, back in her years with the usual red-ink stain she had on her shirt....
Hermione blinked, as if she was confunded surprised. What?
Piercing and leaning more over to the figure she blinked again with more and more in surprise before concluding to herself thinking: ' No...it couldn't be. Surely people back in the days, had to look similar to those in the future? ' But no, she couldn't just simply think that. Her curiosity and stubborn attitude had got the best of her feeling her legs in a way, betray her going towards to the other female. Anyway, she honestly did remember her seeing the seventh year in the halls at times now that she thought of it; Wasn't she a Ravenclaw?
"E....Excuse me?" She stuttered softly clearing her throat as she finally reached her seemingly bit frustrated face. She went quieter, "Are you another of the ones stuck here? Your from...Ravenclaw, aren't you? I don't quite think we've met formally, i've just seen you around the halls. I'm Hermione Granger. I doubt you'll know how we got here, either."
Paying attention to her stain immedietly after the words came out of her lips, she pulled her wand out before simply saying, "My, that looks bad! Tergeo." Before the stain quickly transferred out of her shirt back to it's cleanliness which Hermione supposed she first came into, which it best fit in.
The young trees, and adolescent teenagers around her. And that made her more angry then she could ever imagined. Not even the libraries, or handful of books had assisted her, and not her intelligence she was clearly proud of had no reply for any sense for her predicament. Although she felt a bit wonderful that Harry could see his future-late family again, and also Ron with his deceased too, Hermione was left with nothing. Just with utter dissappoint, her own wits, and a worry. A worry that could penetrate her mind for months, that both her best friends seemed to strangely be intrigued to be with at the moment; her family.
Standing, with the most revolting migrane she possibly could ever had, she walked out of the library and had no use other then to give up. Yes, oh how un-hermione-ish this could of been but she could swore (and maybe it could be even true) that she had read all the books from Hogwarts: A History, to Weird Wizarding Dilemmas and Their Solutions a million times, and still there were no answer not even the reward of a hint displayed in any of the pages, only to display a more affronted Hermione in the library's hands and she couldn't help but to leave, having no sense of reason to be there anymore and also no sense of a barrier that was holding her temper. "...And the library never disappoints me." She murmured impatiently, clenching her fists ever so softly. "There has to be something in that bloody place to tell me. Anything! It's impossible, just impossible for the library to have no answers!"
But it did. For the little chances of ever it happening, Hermione's wits and books had been defeated. But had defeat, have to taunt her so ' fragile ' like this? So easy to let it go in her head? Here she was, ambling her haven she always loved, her area that never deluded her in all her life and yet still, how defeat could be so smugly leaving her in this place without any answer or any conclusion that this was possible, not even if this was actually some sick dream that someone was playing the puppetmaster over her, controlling her life. No, nothing, she'll say it once and she'll say it again---"No, nothing is making sense at all." And the only thing she could make use of herself was to follow the slightly younger Dumbledore's tips--- play the game of an transfer student. Which she found no more amusing then she finds when people snicker watching Ronald eat.
And that my friend, she is disgusted by.
But only if she could rather feel disgusted then mentally insane. Sure, hide your identity to the soon professors you have already met, but what happens if there's no loophole out of this? What happens when the Dark Lord rises back and the 1970's are over and everyone who's stuck here sees the baby of who's already been alive? Nothing fantastic will happen ever that would be obvious, and as Hermione's newly mind had been pulled whole with questions with no one to answer, she mentally pulled them back and held on her temple.
She needed a time off. Just something to get her out of this hindering state.
And supposedly if that meant doing what the normal transfer student would do (which by the way, wouldn't any staff if not the ministry be questioned about this?) she went off to travel to Hogsmeade to get what she needed for school because after all, if she was going to have to stay here she couldn't take her doubt in front of her education. School was school, and Hermione isn't going to drop out because she isn't in her own time period. It's not like she can't learn something just because she's in a older time, anyway. Heck, she might even learn something more in the past you never know.
Leaving Hermione lucky that their Headmaster was still a altruistic and generous man, she was content that he'd allow her to both go and also give her some currency to bring along (Which then again, another thought popped in her brain, her belongings she was left nothing where had everything gone?) And quickly only ignoring her mind for the time being she was left, and found in the beautiful's fall breeze as she lit down and vaguely grinned momentarily watching the scene of the small town she knew best and loved, happy that there was at least something that hadn't changed much; Hogsmeade. And also the familiar place she always shared a joy to go in, Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. Like she even thought about going to Zonko's for the things she needed most. Hermione Granger was no child looking for a toy, for a excuse of a quill.
Ambulating inside trying to make herself as small as possible, she sighed albeit less stressed now feeling the mundane yet elderly aurora grow tense within her mind. To Hermione it hadn't changed much, really it didn't. Everything was set normally in place, perhaps with a few changes when it came to position, and maybe a bit chatty elders (or well, former elders) that seemed to create the scenery more joyously. Which frankly, Hermione didn't mind that much. She needed some support in cheering her stressed and agonized days and it gave it to her, even it was just a bit. If only if she could see the elder man back on the desk, welcoming her name and sharing his own thoughts about new merchandise could she feel a bit better. The time she thought about it, she really missed the little things in life right now.
Foraging around, she took much notice of the background of the quill shop in more detail. It's lamps were a bit out-dated, the quills were a bit modified, and the ink looked much older then what the seemed at her time ironically. But out of everything, most of what she saw had been practically normal, and she almost felt like she was actually back in her time, in the 1950's.... Why, it almost looked like she could even see a girl, a older girl she recalled, back in her years with the usual red-ink stain she had on her shirt....
Hermione blinked, as if she was confunded surprised. What?
Piercing and leaning more over to the figure she blinked again with more and more in surprise before concluding to herself thinking: ' No...it couldn't be. Surely people back in the days, had to look similar to those in the future? ' But no, she couldn't just simply think that. Her curiosity and stubborn attitude had got the best of her feeling her legs in a way, betray her going towards to the other female. Anyway, she honestly did remember her seeing the seventh year in the halls at times now that she thought of it; Wasn't she a Ravenclaw?
"E....Excuse me?" She stuttered softly clearing her throat as she finally reached her seemingly bit frustrated face. She went quieter, "Are you another of the ones stuck here? Your from...Ravenclaw, aren't you? I don't quite think we've met formally, i've just seen you around the halls. I'm Hermione Granger. I doubt you'll know how we got here, either."
Paying attention to her stain immedietly after the words came out of her lips, she pulled her wand out before simply saying, "My, that looks bad! Tergeo." Before the stain quickly transferred out of her shirt back to it's cleanliness which Hermione supposed she first came into, which it best fit in.
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