Post by gabby on May 11, 2011 20:21:33 GMT
gabriella sofia fray
THE SCARS OF YOUR LOVE
[/size]remind me of us - - - - - -[/center]
full name: gabriella sofia fray
nicknames: gabby, gabs, gabbster
birthday: june nineteenth
age: seventeen
house: gryffindor
blood status: pureblood
face claim: emma roberts
WE COULD HAVE HAD IT ALL
[/size]rolling in the deep - - - - - -[/center]
likes:
bertie botts every flavor beans
astronomy
reading
badly dubbed kung-fu movies
quidditch (watching, not playing)
swimming / the ocean
summer time/ hot weather
sleeping
singing / she's a pretty good singer
music gigs / muggle & wizard
dislikes:
thunder and lightning
flying on a broom
early mornings
two faced girls
liars / cheats
discrimination / bullies
wearing her glasses (she needs them for reading)
clowns. they really freak her out
being bored / doing nothing
playboys / heart breakers
fake girls
strengths:
she can burp the alphabet. it's gross but she can do it!
brave / headstrong gabriella is always willing to jump in to help the little guy
funny / goofy. gabriella is the type of girl who will laugh at herself if she does something stupid.
intelligent / witty
honest
organized
weaknesses:
sarcastic / blunt / very opinionated
flying. gabby can't fly a broom
short temper.
she wears her heart on her sleeve
stubborn / persistent
veritaserum:
she hasn't told anyone that she can't fly a broom
she might act tough but she secretly hates being alone
dementor:
Gabriella was eleven years old and in her first year of Hogwarts when she first gained her fear of flying. She'd gone out onto the Quidditch pitch with a group of her friends to throw around a quaffle, even though they weren't supposed to! The weather had taken a turn for the worse but they didn't care, they carried on playing in the rain. It was when Gabby had been flying on her broom, racing against a friend to see who get the highest without chickening out, that her broom was struck by lightning. It sent her flying from her broom and she spent the next three weeks at St Mungos hospital with severe injuries. Gabriella is well aware that she could have lost her life and has been terrified of thunder/lightning and flying ever since
patronus: White owl
Gabriella's best memory is of being accepted into Hogwarts. Because it meant that the stories her grandmother told her as a child were true. She'd never felt so happy to be joining the wizarding world
sexuality & relationship status: straight and single
I HEARD ONE ON YOU
[/size]ill make your head burn - - -[/center]
father: lucas fray, 51, writer, muggle
mother: sofia fray, 49, nursery teacher / ex-auror
siblings:
annabelle king (married) - 26 - Ministry of Magic - Department of International Magical Co-operation
sophie fray - 24 - sales assistant - muggle
louise fray - 24 - university student - muggle
others: her grandmother, daisy-anne, deceased
overall history: Gabriella has had a rather normal and average upbringing. Raised by her mother and father in Nottingham, England, Gabby attended a muggle primary school. As a child Gabby had plenty of friends and was often well behaved. Like any other little girl she enjoyed sleepovers, playing dress up, pointing out cute boys and giggling girlishly. She was a normal girl in a normal world. At least as far as she knew.
Daisy-Anne, her grandmother, would tell her stories of a different world. A world with magic and dragons and people that flew around on brooms. A world filled with wizards and witches. Sophia, would often chastise her mother for telling her daughter such ridiculous stories. But Gabby loved them. They were always told in such great detail, as a child Gabby couldn’t help but believe they were real. Of course Sophia would dismiss the stories as silly nonsense. But there was something about the way she brushed off the subject and kept her gaze averted that made Gabby think otherwise.
Her suspicions were confirmed when she was 11 years old and had received a letter from Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry. Gabby was over the moon. All of her grandmothers stories, most of which surrounded the life of one Harry Potter, (Those were her favourite stories to hear), were true! Harry Potter existed. Hogwarts existed. Magic existed. Her grandmothers stories and the fact that Gabby had been accepted into Hogwarts couldn’t have been coincidence. It was then, Daisy-Anne, her grandmother decided it was she, Gabby and Sophia sat down for a talk.
The night of her acceptance, Gabriella found that both her mother and grandmother were witches. Her grandmother a ‘pureblood’ and her mother a ‘half blood’. Gabby was the second of her sisters to be accepted into Hogwarts. Annabelle was the other. All that time Gabby had presumed her sister had gone to a boarding school up north. Well she had, just not the one she originally thought.
After everything that had happened with Lord Voldermort, Sophia had never stepped another foot in the wizarding world. She refused to be involved with anything magic related and apparently she’d originally been opposed to allowing Annabelle to attend Hogwarts. She didn’t want any of her children in that world. However, she eventually caved and then Anna had disappeared, returning during the summer.
Sophia tried to talk Gabby into staying, though the youngest daughter was having none of it. There was little to nothing that could have stopped Gabby in her decision to attend Hogwarts and her mother knew it. Gabriella knew that she blamed her grandmother for filling her head with “stupid” stories but Gabby knew that even if her grandmother hadn’t old her stories, she would have wanted to go anyway. Out of sheer curiosity.
Gabriella's time at Hogwarts has been a fast and exciting one. She fell in love with the wizarding world the moment she got on the train and met the other wizards and witches. She knew that this world was where she belonged.
YOUR GOING TO WISH
[/size]you had never met me - - - - - -[/center]
name/alias: dubzie
gender: female
age: twenty
contact: pm
how you found us: through an ad :]
other characters: none
experience: on and off over the last few years
role play sample:
'Sitting in the cramped tea shop, Emilie felt severely out of place and incredibly over-dressed in her designer mini-dress, black tights, suede ankle boots and dark blazer-jacket. It was an outfit she had thrown on, without paying much attention. As long as she was actually dressed and looking half-decent then she was happy. She’d been tempted to wear her uniform. But what sane person wore their uniform on a Saturday morning?
“Here you are. Coffee Black.” The middle aged woman, with frizzy curls decorated with a large yellow bow, placed a small white cup onto the wooden table. “Will that be all?” The woman’s eyes darted to the empty space across from Emilie and then back again. Emilie shook her head, her smile strained and brief.
Once the woman had left, Emilie looked around the small shop, her blue eyes taking in the area. There weren’t many occupants in the cramped tea-shop, just a couple or two. Which was why she had chosen this place rather than The Three Broomsticks or The Hogs head. It was the weekend and those places would no doubt be booming with students. They chattered and joked and laughed loudly. They weren’t ideal places for a private conversation. Madam Puddifoots was different. Only couples came here to talk and they normally kept to themselves, too wrapped up in each other to pay any attention to their surroundings. Here, you could have a private conversation without having to worry about eavesdroppers.
A chime rang through the air and Emilie lifted her head immediately, waiting for the shops newcomer to round the corner. When they did, she frowned, disappointed and slumped back into her seat.
Tracing the tips of her fingers over and around the rim of her tea-cup, Emilie stared hard at her hands and frowned. Why did she feel so - so - self-conscious and on edge? It wasn’t like her at all. In any normal situation she would face a problem or person head on, pushing her worries and concerns to the back of her mind. It was always easier to handle situations that way. Today, however, was different. She couldn’t bury her worries or hide her nerves. She hated it.
Pulling her blazer tight across her chest, she folded her arms across her chest and slouched back into the chair. If her mum had been here, she would have ordered her to sit up right, reprimanding her on how un-lady like it was to slouch like a child. Well her mum wasn’t here and Emilie thought that if she slouched back into the chair enough, she just might disappear into it. If only.'.
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