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| Lupin, Beo; Ravenclaw Seventh Year | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 17 2006, 10:24 AM (161 Views) | |
| + Beo Lupin | Sep 17 2006, 10:24 AM Post #1 |
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not a social leper [yet]
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CHARACTER DOCUMENTATION Character Name: Beo Lupin Character Nickname: Can you shorten Beo? People occasionally call him Bee, but venture towards any cute pet name such as Bumblebee and you will die. Character Age: 17 Character Year: 7th House/Alumni: Ravenclaw Physical Appearance: Beo Lupin takes after neither his father nor his mother, at least as far as appearances go. He shares his father's tall, wiry build, but his hair is a tousled jet black and curly as anything. It's often neglected, unbrushed and falling into his eyes. His skin is a deep tan color from long hours in the sun, in the pool during summers. He possesses a swimmer’s body, long and thin and flexible, not particularly strong but very firm and supple. His eyes are a pale gray, colorless, seemingly unfeeling, although this is not the case. However, the eyes tend to emanate false first impressions, so Beo prefers not to look people in the eye. As to attractiveness, one could say Beo wasn’t bad-looking. Seldom would you hear Beo and handsome in the same sentence. He’s no beauty. On the contrary, he’s quite plain. Quite normal. This normality, this adherence to the general laws of human composition aid him in blending in with the crowd and going unnoticed, inconspicuous. Clothing—obviously, most of the time, he wears Hogwarts robes. Outside of school, he wears—well, Hogwarts robes for the most part, as a matter of fact. Since his family grew up rather poor, he’s learned to behave frugally with his money and will only venture forth and splurge on a Muggle pair of jeans if he really has to. Tall, standing at five foot eleven, you would think that Beo would have a rather intimidating structure. However, this is a paradox even Bee himself cannot explain. His height makes him a bit self-conscious, and the slight lack of confidence on his part makes him subconsciously shrink inside himself, hunching his shoulders and walking with his eyes downcast. The effect is that of a cowering lion, a big and powerful being afraid of himself. His hair, as stated earlier, tends to fall into his eyes a lot, so he’s developed an odd habit of shaking his head like a dog’s (or a wolf’s) to shift the bangs away from his line of vision. It’s an unusual idiosyncrasy, but most of the time he has no idea that he’s even doing it at all. It may have something to do with the suppressed animalistic side to him. His face is usually broken into a scowl, his eyebrows furrowed through no intentional act of his own. Frustrated with the troubling intimacies of life, he will walk around with an angry expression on his face, although when doing something he likes the tensed muscles in his jaw will slack and his expression will peacefully relax. When not angry or frustrated (which are the two emotions he experiences most) Beo actually looks quite serene. His back straightens up as if he’s gotten rid of a load, and whispers of a smile can actually be seen occupying his face. It’s quite a change. If only he was like that more often. One last thing—his feet are huge. If Sasquatch had offspring with the Big Bad Wolf, the result would be swimming in Beo’s shoes. His feet are something he’s quite proud of. Personality and Traits: The majority of human beings who admit to being stressed out due to it being ‘their time of the month,’ they are, for the most part, females between the ages of fourteen and forty. Beo, while certainly fitting the age criteria, is sadly not able to use this as an excuse due to his apparent gender. The fact that he turns into a snarling, angry, feral wolf incapable of rational thought as regularly as a girl goes through her ‘monthly time’ would be a lot easier to handle if he could blame his sudden sour mood on cramps, fatigue, nausea or bloating. But the facts are, he can’t use the handy excuse to explain away his tempers, so he is forced to suffer in silence lest his condition be found out. Both of his parents encourage him to be proud of his heritage, no matter what species, but in fear of becoming some kind of social leper, Bee tends to keep this fact to himself. He envies his sister, Dido, and his mother, who can proudly display their Metamorphagus powers and be admired by all instead of feared or outcast. He envies his father, who has come to terms with what he is and is actually aided by the other side of him when it comes to fighting the Death Eaters. He envies his friends, who live normal lives, unhindered and unbothered by such nuances as becoming a big hairy thing every full moon. He envies, as the bottom line, pretty much everyone but himself. Most of his personality problems stem from the fact that he is a werewolf. In fact, his personality is practically defined by the wolfy side of him that resides in his brain until nature lets it out. His slight self-consciousness is not due to the fact that he feels he’s too tall, or too skinny, or too ugly. He doesn’t think any of these things, and likes himself when in a normal form. However, he carries himself the way that he does because he’s afraid that any minute, the urge will overpower him to lunge out and bite someone, kill someone he knows and loves. The fact that he studies excessively can be attributed to the fact that once a month, he cannot think, and so he feels he must think extra hard throughout the rest of the year in order to make up for the time he has lost. His self-control is nearly absolute, because of years of being trapped in his own mind while some savage animal occupied his body, roaming the streets for things to destroy. The fact is, Beo would be quite a different person if he weren’t a werewolf. But he is, and he has been, and he always will be, so that fact has no relevance. He’s slightly introversive (although not nearly to the point in which he picks and chooses his friends) and girls as of yet hold nothing in store for him. In his seventeen years of living, he’s had all of three girlfriends: one who dumped him, one who bored him, and one who ran away screaming because he’d forgotten to take his potion. So he’s not interested in love right now, as it’s only one more person he has to worry about. Background/Family History: Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks were strong advocates for the Order when Beo was born. He was quite an accident, and as a young boy served only to get in the way of the Order, so Tonks had to temporarily retire to take care of the baby. Two years later, Dido was born, though she was somewhat intentional on the parent’s part. The state of being a werewolf can be inserted into a human’s body by two methods; being bitten, or inheriting the trait. Only males can inherit the form. However, even for a male to become a werewolf through his father or mother is extremely rare and happens only in special cases. Beo was not a special case. He was born a normal human being, a perfectly human baby, until his mother was called away on an emergency mission with the Order and left him with his father. He was about three months old at this point, old enough for his parents to realize that he was going to grow up a normal boy. But so preoccupied was Remus about the safety of his wife that taking the potion slipped his mind, and he became feral in their living room at midnight. In a wolf state, Remus exerted enough self-control to keep himself from severely harming his son—but not before grazing the boy’s cheek with a canine tooth. Beo was sick for a long while, but recovered before his first birthday. Guilt-ridden, Remus and Tonks were relieved when he didn’t appear to show any wolfish symptoms and in the euphoria conceived Dido. But a month before his fifth birthday, his parents awoke to find Beo gone from his bed, and after a few eternities of frantic searching found him crouched behind a dumpster, sobbing about the vicious animal that had entered his spirit. After revealing the incident with his father at such a young age, Beo felt distanced from his parents. In all logicality, he should have felt closer, all three of them being different than normal, but the fact that it was through his parents’ carelessness drove all feelings of familiarity away. He still acts as a normal child, but feels uncomfortable sharing the intimacies of his days with his dad or cuddling on the couch with his mum. The Lupin family grew up rather poor, since both father and mother were wrapped up in Order problems and didn’t have time to work money-earning jobs. Through stipends from the Ministry they managed to rent a small apartment and run it efficiently, but suspended just a bit above the poverty line, the family never had many of the luxuries others did. They’ve all learned to be careful exactly when and how they spend their money. While distancing himself from his parents, Beo grew closer to his younger sister and eventually became the protective older brother, skeptically examining prospective boyfriends once they were older and tending to keep her close. Dido can get quite annoyed, but he is convinced it is for the best. Father: Remus Lupin Mother: Nymphadora Lupin, nee Tonks Siblings: Dido Lupin Pet: He’s enough of a pet himself. Besides, animal cruelty hits him hard, and he can’t bear to treat a dog like a subordinate. Broom: Wolves aren’t meant to fly. If they were, they would have learned to Levitate around the same time humans had got around to discovering the wheel. Wand: Nine inch live oak, crushed kappa scale interior Boggart: Anyone he knows, murdered by a wolf Member Title: not a social leper [yet] Role-Playing Sample: Beo shot a glance around the common room. A couple first-year girls had formed a study group in the corner and had been chatting excitedly about the homework that was due and the exams coming up well into the wee hours of the morning. A lone sixth-year sat alone in the armchair by the fire, fiddling with a pen as he had been for the last four hours, ever since his girlfriend had broken up with him in a loud row in front of the entire Ravenclaw house. Somebody’s cat patrolled the corners, the most effective pest control Hogwarts had yet seen. In other words, there was nobody currently in the common room who would care too much about an angry seventh-year slipping out of the dorms and making his way outside well past curfew. He struggled to control the shaking of his hands as he made his way swiftly down the stairs, formulating an excuse about too much sugar in the pecan pie or clogged-up toilets in the boy’s dorm lest somebody inquire why he was there. Turning a couple corners and racing up and down a couple staircases, he traced the well-practiced route, the route he had made in his first year and had traveled once a month ever since. The robes he wore were old and loose, his father’s old robes, the robes he always wore when the full moon loomed over the horizon. Robes that were easy to slip in and out of. Robes that wouldn’t be too much trouble to find when the night was over and he had just enough time to catch a spot of breakfast before first period. He pushed open a door cautiously and shivered as the cool night air met his body, naked save for the robes. Stepping onto the moist grass with bare feet, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves and set off across the grounds. He walked easily, nonchalantly, loping along as if he was merely a student taking a quick stroll to ease the aching insomnia. At least, that is, until he took a couple steps into the Forbidden Forest. He found the tree he had marked, and stripped, throwing his robes near the roots, his body bare and exposed in the damp moonlight. Then he turned, and tore off into the distance, dodging trees and shrubs with increasing agility. After a few moments of the frantic sprint, he felt the acute pain of something forcibly changing his body into something it was not. His spine tickled as hair sprouted instantaneously along his back, his legs and feet broadened and elongated and his backbone slowly curved. His fingers shrank and became paws; his chin and nose grew in a manner reminiscent of Pinocchio to form a snout. He howled in a frenzy, his arms meeting the forest floor and his body now sprinting along on all fours, a vulgar and vicious beast of the night. All rational thought in his brain was promptly gathered and herded into a small corner, where it was sealed off for a night to watch in horror as its body rampaged. In the morning, he’d be quite stiff and sore, due to the long night of physical exertion and the twigs and branches ripping at his sleek fur. For now, he wasn’t a creature of the night. He was the night. <span style='font-size:12pt;line-height:100%'>PERSONAL Name: Holli Your Age: In my teens Other Characters: Ocean Tawnyhill Contact Information: Info can be PMed if the admins request it. How Did You Find Us?: Er, it was on the Directory, I think. Role-Playing Experience: Waay too long Miscellaneous/Other: </span> |
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7:17 PM Jul 10