Application ~ Boomtown
Mar. 11th, 2013 05:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tsingtauensePlayer's Name: Merry
Are you over 16? And then some!
Characters Played Here: None
Character: Lily Evans-Potter (will be going by "Evans"—in place of first name too)
Series/Canon: Harry Potter/books
From When? Moment of death
History: HPwiki
Personality: There are two answers to this section. BV and AD, or Earth and New Dodge, or youth and premature age, or…
BV/Earth/Youth: "Uncommonly kind"; gives of herself so fully and willingly, to anyone and everyone, as only the phenomenally self-possessed and secure can do. Has incredible inner strength which fuels her to be almost inexhaustibly gentle. She occasionally chooses not to be gentle. Just because she approaches everyone with an assumption of goodwill doesn't mean she's not prepared to be proven wrong, and won't act accordingly. The only times she's really yelled at anyone have been in defense of someone else—or when she finally gives up on all other methods when it's absolutely called for. (…Which is also in defense of someone else, really. That someone just happens to be the same person as the one she's yelling at. See: Severus Snape.) Her kindness, optimism, gentleness and generosity all stem from a place of power and decision: though she's led a somewhat sheltered—some might say "charmed"—life, she is not blind to the nature of the world, is wise beyond her years, and has decided that the best way to approach the pain of the world is not to add to it—nor even assume she can fix it. But she will fight entropy the only way anyone really can: in whatever increment is available, with steadfastness, not worrying about winning, only about enduring; because the bad things in the world just make the good things all the more worth appreciating and fostering; whether one can overcome the other is irrelevant. …Except or even in war?
AD/New Dodge/Aged: …numb. Is probably the word. Maybe shock. She doesn't give the impression of being in shock. But there are issues on which her brain simply shuts down. All personal and introspective, she's still very in touch with the world around her—far more so than the world within—but you can't rule out triggers. There may be some memory loss. It doesn't occur to her that she was killed, for example. Then again, she considers that possibility pretty much irrelevant. Except that it may explain why it also doesn't occur to her to try to take her own life… but no, she's not the suicidal type. Not even under these circumstances. But you'd think the thought would at least, dispassionately as an option out in the universe even if one she would reject, have crossed her mind.
Why do you think your character would work in this setting? While not clear on her own state of life (and truly not thinking about it), she does know her husband, James, is dead; and is certain her son, Harry, is also dead. Another thing she's not clear on, and not thinking about, is exactly how she came to New Dodge. She has some notion that perhaps she was sent her for rehabilitation and protection—by someone like Dumbledore, perhaps, or even Remus, Sirius or Peter. She's not in a state to argue. She'd like to aid the cause, but knows she can't right now. She can't fight against Voldemort and hope to win; not enough self-control. She'd go down in a glorious blaze, but probably to little effect. She'll accept this place.
And take the opportunity with full vigour and dedication to try to build something new, entirely for others/outside herself, entirely unrelated to everything she cannot currently think about. She may or may not be giving anyone her real name.
Inventory: A willow wand wrapped in a baby blanket. This is the main reason she thinks (wrongly, but nevermind) she was sent here by someone; she has no memory of taking either. And knows deep down in her last conceived-of moments she hadn't access to the one, and would never have removed the other unless…
Room 113
Samples:
Third-Person Sample: [Prompt: 3. FIRE! Help put out the blaze (or for the love of god, get out of the way!)]
For an unthinking moment, for the first time since arriving, she reached for her wand.
She remembered she'd foresworn magic a second before remembering it wasn't there.
First lesson: no matter where you are, what's happening, what you feel, always keep your wand. You could have saved them if you'd only had…
No!
She repulses the blackness before her eyes. Not because (for a change) she doesn't want to face the memories, but because not now! This is not the moment to get lost or disconnected.
There are people here in the barracks.
There are children…
With a scream of effort, Lily pushes both her hands palm-outward to the flames—feels the tickling pain of the heat, they've come so much closer even in the seconds she's wasted on controlling her mind; but no further, she's the line—and from the centre of being that she hasn't accessed, has walled away, for all this time, she sends!
She may or may not bellow aloud, "Aguamenti!"
Without the channeling and direction of a wand, the power rips right out of her, like a soul being severed; but she doesn't collapse; she rides the feeling, wondering, at the back of her mind (which has, blast it, indeed disconnected entirely from the situation; but that's because it knows there's nothing more it can do right now except avoid the distraction of pain) if it's going to pull her along with the spell right into the fire. That would be a crown of red indeed.
But it doesn't. Out of her body, her essence, and through her hands, explodes a torrent of water; rushing like wild things, chasing and fleeing both, straight into the flames, attacking them like they took the whole thing very, very personally.
The fire had been out for long minutes before Lily slowly came back to herself, felt the water between her toes, looked down, and then stopped.
The place was flooded.
But the fire was out.
Oh, Ms Evans, murmured a loved professor in her mind, what happened to that famous control?
She sat down where she was, getting soaked (as she hadn't been by the spell, only the fallout) and, as the magic had wrenched itself out of her, unblocking everything in its path, she wept.
First-Person Sample:
Evans, updating. First day at the greenhouse. Went rather well compared to previous. Most of the imports are adapting well to the local conditions, and those that aren't are pretty much as predicted. They were finicky on their home soil already. The goal is to minimize the number of species we need to sustain artificially, not eliminate them. First transplants to outdoor beds will commence soon. I've been asked to oversee that project and am proud to be given responsibility so soon into my participation.
[private lock activated]
It's because I can't turn it off. They see how the plants react to me. At least they're not asking or demanding. Polite exploitation is about as good as I could hope for. I wondered if there would be hostility toward magic here but it's obviously a broader world, in some ways, than my parents lived in.
In others it's so terribly narrow.
At the moment, that suits me well.
I need to reclaim control.
I…
[That syllable is too broad a gateway, so for now she ends the entry.]
Are you over 16? And then some!
Characters Played Here: None
Character: Lily Evans-Potter (will be going by "Evans"—in place of first name too)
Series/Canon: Harry Potter/books
From When? Moment of death
History: HPwiki
Personality: There are two answers to this section. BV and AD, or Earth and New Dodge, or youth and premature age, or…
BV/Earth/Youth: "Uncommonly kind"; gives of herself so fully and willingly, to anyone and everyone, as only the phenomenally self-possessed and secure can do. Has incredible inner strength which fuels her to be almost inexhaustibly gentle. She occasionally chooses not to be gentle. Just because she approaches everyone with an assumption of goodwill doesn't mean she's not prepared to be proven wrong, and won't act accordingly. The only times she's really yelled at anyone have been in defense of someone else—or when she finally gives up on all other methods when it's absolutely called for. (…Which is also in defense of someone else, really. That someone just happens to be the same person as the one she's yelling at. See: Severus Snape.) Her kindness, optimism, gentleness and generosity all stem from a place of power and decision: though she's led a somewhat sheltered—some might say "charmed"—life, she is not blind to the nature of the world, is wise beyond her years, and has decided that the best way to approach the pain of the world is not to add to it—nor even assume she can fix it. But she will fight entropy the only way anyone really can: in whatever increment is available, with steadfastness, not worrying about winning, only about enduring; because the bad things in the world just make the good things all the more worth appreciating and fostering; whether one can overcome the other is irrelevant. …Except or even in war?
AD/New Dodge/Aged: …numb. Is probably the word. Maybe shock. She doesn't give the impression of being in shock. But there are issues on which her brain simply shuts down. All personal and introspective, she's still very in touch with the world around her—far more so than the world within—but you can't rule out triggers. There may be some memory loss. It doesn't occur to her that she was killed, for example. Then again, she considers that possibility pretty much irrelevant. Except that it may explain why it also doesn't occur to her to try to take her own life… but no, she's not the suicidal type. Not even under these circumstances. But you'd think the thought would at least, dispassionately as an option out in the universe even if one she would reject, have crossed her mind.
Why do you think your character would work in this setting? While not clear on her own state of life (and truly not thinking about it), she does know her husband, James, is dead; and is certain her son, Harry, is also dead. Another thing she's not clear on, and not thinking about, is exactly how she came to New Dodge. She has some notion that perhaps she was sent her for rehabilitation and protection—by someone like Dumbledore, perhaps, or even Remus, Sirius or Peter. She's not in a state to argue. She'd like to aid the cause, but knows she can't right now. She can't fight against Voldemort and hope to win; not enough self-control. She'd go down in a glorious blaze, but probably to little effect. She'll accept this place.
And take the opportunity with full vigour and dedication to try to build something new, entirely for others/outside herself, entirely unrelated to everything she cannot currently think about. She may or may not be giving anyone her real name.
Inventory: A willow wand wrapped in a baby blanket. This is the main reason she thinks (wrongly, but nevermind) she was sent here by someone; she has no memory of taking either. And knows deep down in her last conceived-of moments she hadn't access to the one, and would never have removed the other unless…
Room 113
Samples:
Third-Person Sample: [Prompt: 3. FIRE! Help put out the blaze (or for the love of god, get out of the way!)]
For an unthinking moment, for the first time since arriving, she reached for her wand.
She remembered she'd foresworn magic a second before remembering it wasn't there.
First lesson: no matter where you are, what's happening, what you feel, always keep your wand. You could have saved them if you'd only had…
No!
She repulses the blackness before her eyes. Not because (for a change) she doesn't want to face the memories, but because not now! This is not the moment to get lost or disconnected.
There are people here in the barracks.
There are children…
With a scream of effort, Lily pushes both her hands palm-outward to the flames—feels the tickling pain of the heat, they've come so much closer even in the seconds she's wasted on controlling her mind; but no further, she's the line—and from the centre of being that she hasn't accessed, has walled away, for all this time, she sends!
She may or may not bellow aloud, "Aguamenti!"
Without the channeling and direction of a wand, the power rips right out of her, like a soul being severed; but she doesn't collapse; she rides the feeling, wondering, at the back of her mind (which has, blast it, indeed disconnected entirely from the situation; but that's because it knows there's nothing more it can do right now except avoid the distraction of pain) if it's going to pull her along with the spell right into the fire. That would be a crown of red indeed.
But it doesn't. Out of her body, her essence, and through her hands, explodes a torrent of water; rushing like wild things, chasing and fleeing both, straight into the flames, attacking them like they took the whole thing very, very personally.
The fire had been out for long minutes before Lily slowly came back to herself, felt the water between her toes, looked down, and then stopped.
The place was flooded.
But the fire was out.
Oh, Ms Evans, murmured a loved professor in her mind, what happened to that famous control?
She sat down where she was, getting soaked (as she hadn't been by the spell, only the fallout) and, as the magic had wrenched itself out of her, unblocking everything in its path, she wept.
First-Person Sample:
Evans, updating. First day at the greenhouse. Went rather well compared to previous. Most of the imports are adapting well to the local conditions, and those that aren't are pretty much as predicted. They were finicky on their home soil already. The goal is to minimize the number of species we need to sustain artificially, not eliminate them. First transplants to outdoor beds will commence soon. I've been asked to oversee that project and am proud to be given responsibility so soon into my participation.
[private lock activated]
It's because I can't turn it off. They see how the plants react to me. At least they're not asking or demanding. Polite exploitation is about as good as I could hope for. I wondered if there would be hostility toward magic here but it's obviously a broader world, in some ways, than my parents lived in.
In others it's so terribly narrow.
At the moment, that suits me well.
I need to reclaim control.
I…
[That syllable is too broad a gateway, so for now she ends the entry.]
