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WELLES, brittain

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brittain welles

Posted: Nov 19 2008, 09:39 PM

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Member No.: 118
Joined: 17-November 08

WELLES, brittain ophelia

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USED TO DREAM UNTIL I STOPPED WRITING FICTION (the player)
name; Laura
age; Dieciocho
gender; Female
rp experience; About six years or so.
how'd you find us?; Cadere Memoria
activity; A loooot. I have no life. xD
contact; PM; email (squeechan@gmailcom); MSN (squeechan@hotmail.com)
other characters?; Britt's the only one so far, but I'm sure I'll try to snag a minor canon at some point.

ALL RIGHT, WELL THAT'S NOT TRUE (the basics)
full name; Brittain Ophelia Welles

“Yeah, I don't even know what's up with my name. I guess my parents were trying to be new-fangled and different by coming up with Brittain. It's not because of a preoccupation with Great Britain. Nope, just their attempt of a new, unnecessary version of 'Brittany.' Then we move on to Ophelia, and things don't get much better. I mean come on, they could've picked a better namesake. Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with giving a nod to Shakespeare like that. But she goes mad and drowns herself! You can't tell me there aren't any potentially better options in any of his plays than that. Whatever though. I mean, I have to admit I do kind of like it. It's.. unique, certainly.”nicknames; Britt. A very select few—approximately .5% of the people in her life—can call her “Bribri” and not get hexed.
age; Seventeen
birthday; December 17
house&year; Ravenclaw, seventh year
alliance; Order of the Phoenix
blood status; Halfblood
sexuality; Heterosexual
pets; Gigi, a small, black Burmese cat ~~who acts like he's on speed~~
canon or original; Original
anything else?; --

MAYBE IT ENDED WHEN I ENDED COMPETITION (the physical appearance)
playby; Amber Tamblyn
hair; Somewhat long, reaching to her shoulder blades, medium brown and wavy.

“I have to admit I like my hair. It used to be a lot curlier when I was little, and not just because my mother liked to style it every now and then. That being said, it also used to be much frizzier. Believe me, I am not complaining about that feature gradually fading with the curls. It's still pretty wavy though, especially when I wake up. It's almost got some natural ringlets way down at the ends before I take a brush to it—which is about all I ever do to it, besides the obvious (i.e washing it). I'll pull it back in a ponytail maybe once a month, if that. Seriously. I'm really laid-back with how my hair looks.”eyes; Gray. Just plain gray.

“I would love to be able to say my eyes are emotional or warm. Heck, even cold sometimes. But they're not. They're just a boring, constant gray. I suppose it can be helpful when I don't want someone to know what I'm feeling. If I'm upset, my eyes don't care. I mean yes, they care if it's bad enough and I start crying, but that's not what I mean... I do have nice eyelashes, though. They're not abnormally long, but a good length with a nice natural curl.”height/ weight; 5'5”; 125 pounds
build; Average all over: could stand to lose some weight but still has nothing to worry about; tall enough to not have problems seeing in class but nowhere near potential model material (not that she wants to pursue such a career path); strong but certainly not obviously so

“My body is pretty average—story of my life, ha ha. I'm in between 'in shape' and 'overweight.' I do have lady lumps, but they're not very big, so that doesn't help me either—not that I go by that kind of thing. I'm not very tall, either, but I don't think I could be considered 'short.' Even so, to support that, I try to maintain good posture. Also, I'm a pretty strong girl. You'd never guess it—I don't have any bulging muscles, and let's face it: I'm a bookworm, not an athlete—but I am. So naturally my arms and legs are nowhere near resembling sticks, thank goodness.”style; Typically sticks to the Ravenclaw uniform, though when it's not required can often be found in jeans and t-shirts or tank tops; will occasionally wear bohemian-esque skirts when the weather permits it; always wears a silver necklace (Christmas gift from her father; quotes Jane Austen's Emma, “Where shall we find a better daughter or kinder sister or truer friend?”) and also has a fondness for bangle bracelets

anything else?;

BECAUSE I'D ALWAYS LOSE (the personality)

likes;

dislikes;

strengths;

lie

show

weaknesses;

important

never

forgive her

tell me

~~and completely absurd~~

third year.

anything

everything

fears;

dreams;

patronus;

“My patronus is an elephant, a male African elephant to be precise, with enormous tusks. I didn't find any evidence as to how great their memories really are, but they say an elephant never forgets, and I do have quite a memory. They typically appear as fairly peaceful animals, but when they're angered or feel they have to protect their brood, they can be a formidable force, which is kind of like me; I generally take things one at a time as they come, and I don't make a fuss until someone has crossed the line. Then once they've gone and upset me, I like to make sure they get the “cut it out, bitch” point. They're actually rather family-oriented, if you can call their groups families, and they're there for one another and protect each other. Finally, elephants are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, as am I.”boggart;

“Ugh, I hate this question, for obvious reasons... Well, there's darkness; it's kind of like a stage, with a single spotlight on me, but I can see everyone I love standing around me in a circle. Jimmy steps out and just starts slamming me with this horrible criticism, how I'm such a horrible person and don't deserve anything I have, et cetera, and I'm in tears by the time he's through, and then Dad denounces me as a daughter. Everyone leaves then. Completely alone, highlighted in total darkness.”dementor;

“The night my mother left. They'd been fighting again—somehow they thought I couldn't hear them, like I was sleeping that soundly; I would've had to have been in a coma to not hear them. I watched her leave. Just scream one more time she never wanted to see him again and with a little pop she was gone... I could never really shake the image of Dad then, this total broken man. He never gave up on her until then. Then our neighbors were such gossips... Fuck, the kids didn't want to play with me because their precious mummies said the parenting in my home must have been horrid if the marriage went so bad. They left me. They told me why they couldn't play with me anymore, supposedly, and just ran off... It's kind of funny now to think that Dad and I still live there. Anyway, yes, worst memories. The broken man and the abandoning playmates, without a doubt.”amortentia;

veritaserum;

»personality description; Take a moment to picture the elephant, the very animal Brittain's patronus embodies. There is a certain silent power with such a creature, deep strength and a kind of demanded respect with how the beast carries itself. It does not go out of its way to get attention, nor does it shy away from situations requiring its guidance. When its loved ones are threatened, it will jump into action, though overall the majority of its emotions are guarded and kept concealed. That is the mighty elephant, and that is also Brittain Welles.

Let's begin with the strength factor. Brittain is not a bodybuilder by any means, but she's got enough (inner) strength to get through just about anything. She knows that time marches on, and if the rest of the world is falling apart she might as well serve as an example of composure. The last thing she wants from anyone is their pity or help to deal with something. Their time could be spent on something much more important. Yes, she's had her share of bad times in her life. So have plenty of other people. They don't need to hear about hers. There's more important things in the world that need to be taken care of. Brittain can deal with her own concerns later.

That leads us to her modesty. She's not going to say she's nothing special, but she's not throwing herself out there demanding she be paid attention to. She's not the messiah or anything; why should anyone fawn over her? Sure, she's a talented and charismatic young woman. She isn't the first one. Nobody has to make a fuss over her. Quite frankly, if they did, it would probably freak her out to some extent. She also isn't the type to fawn over other people, either. Just as she isn't the best thing since sliced bread, neither is anyone else she knows. If they are, then they apparently haven't given her decent proof. On the other hand, there's also those who play themselves down too much. Brittain doesn't consider herself that bad, but it drives her to distraction when there's a perfectly wonderful individual who thinks they're just shy of worthless. There's absolutely no reason for that kind of thinking to take place. Brittain is a firm believer that everyone has a purpose of some kind. Everyone can be useful for something. That being said, if she goes out of her way to express this and all her effort appears to be a waste of time, she will move on.

Brittain is by no means an uncaring person. She does care, quite possibly more than she should. She's a fantastic listener, and plenty of people come to her for advice. A few of her friends joke that she's their therapist, only with no fees and no professional office. Sometimes people take it for granted, and while it is certainly possible to upset her, Brittain won't let on when it's happened, not until the perpetrator is gone—unless she hates their guts; then she'll tear into them. As one wouldn't want to upset a real elephant, one should avoid upsetting Brittain too. The details of those incidents can end up fairly messy and unpleasant. Not as bloody as on the African Savannah, but that's beside the point. Her listening skills and patience level are usually considered assets. It takes a lot to push her over the edge. Her temper is a slow simmer, every annoyance just barely turning up the heat. Most people know when to back off on a situation when Brittain Welles is showing signs of irritation, and again, most people know something genuinely bad has taken place when Brittain Welles is full-on angry. Mostly because she might be throwing things or screaming, one of the two.

She is, overall, a happy person. Why shouldn't she be? There are things in her life she would've had work out differently than what they did, but the world isn't out to get her. Whenever she catches herself even beginning to feel sorry for herself, she quickly corrects this with a reminder that there are people out there with far worse circumstances than her own. Yes, she witnessed a horrid divorce. Yes, she has a virtually nonexistent relationship with her own mother. She also has the privilege to be a witch and attend a fabulous school to train that part of her. She's never had to go without a meal. She's never had to wonder where she's going to sleep. No matter how bad it's seemingly been, there's always been a roof over her head and some glimmer of family. Far worse situations exist. This reminder never ceases to knock Brittain back into her “don't you dare worry about me, I'm fine and I'm looking on the bright side” mentality. Whether or not she's actually alright is another story, but she's not going to let that show.

Although she can appear to be stuck-up, all into her books and brains (the intention was not to make her sound like a zombie), Brittain tries to be a nonjudgmental person. She attempts to hears everyone out, no matter what she's heard about their reputation. It doesn't mean she'll agree with them or follow through with their request, but she will at least let them speak. Unfortunately, depending on how intelligently they present themselves, she might not necessarily be really listening to them. The same good intention goes for blood, as well. It's not any individual's fault what kind of heritage they have. Pureblood or halfblood, it is the individual's actions that determine how Brittain regards them. Above all, they are still human. That humanity applies in a variety of situations. As long as they are human, Brittain will strive to treat them with respect. Until they have deeply hurt her or a loved one by intention, that is.
anything else?; “And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.”

OH OH OH, WON'T YOU CARRY ME HOME? (the background)
nationality; English.
hometown; Sheffield, England
parents; JONATHAN WELLES; age 41; father; Ministry employee

“I love my father to teeny tiny pieces, then I glue them back together and do it again. He's raised me well, I think.”GENEVIEVE CARTER-WINSLOW (nee Carter); age 41; mother; stay-at-home mother ~~and trophy wife~~

“We do not speak her name. No seriously, we don't. She's a cheating whore.”siblings; ROBERT WINSLOW; nearly one; half-brother; infant

“I'm not going to judge an innocent baby over his parents' past actions... but I don't want anything to do with him, even if he is my half-brother.”other family; Ridiculous amount of aunts, uncles, and cousins, all but one set on her father's side.

background history; Once upon a time, there was a nice little house outside of Sheffield. In this house was a man, a woman, and their little girl. They were happy together, and even (literally) had magic in their relationship. They had their hardships from the beginning. The wife, Genevieve, came from a well-to-do pureblood family. Her sister had married extremely well, but herself... oh yes, she had to give in to that streak of rebellion and marry that halfblood dreamer. The couple really strove to keep things going. Jonathan tried his hardest to provide anything the little family could possibly need and then some. Their child, Brittain, was incredibly sweet and loving. For a while, she was the glue holding the trio together, but it wasn't enough. Genevieve's eyes wandered, and her body soon followed to the arms of a wealthy pureblood. It was only a matter of time before her activities were discovered. Jonathan, though a broken man, would not let it show for his daughter's sake. He had to stay strong for her. Clearly she had no suitable mother figure around, if that was how she was going to repay his steadfast “we can do this, we can make this work” efforts. It came as no surprise to anyone involved when the decision to divorce was announced.

The divorce was a nasty one. Brittain watched quietly in the background as fighting became more and more frequent in the house. A few times they came very close to violence, an occasional glass or two being smashed, but it was always Jonathan who remembered their daughter. The increasing moments of venom from her mother, although they were never truly directed towards Brittain, caused the girl to begin to fear the woman. She couldn't understand where the one she had called “mommy” had gone to. Wherever she was, it certainly wasn't there. Now there was just a monster. A vindictive, cruel monster, who was only still in the house until everything was ready for her to move in with her lover.

Since the divorce was finalized, Brittain’s childhood was anything but what she wishes it’d been. When her mother left—no, when her wickedness was found out in the first place—her father changed. A little less sparkle shown in his eyes. A little less spring showed up in his step. He still loved Brittain with all his heart, but something was missing—the love of that woman. He had truly loved her, but she had had him completely fooled. Where had he gone wrong? This was all his fault, wasn't it? He couldn't make her happy, even though they had a child together. He had never made her family happy, because of his parentage. He was to blame, but he wouldn't let his darling know this. She was too young. Her whole life was ahead of her, and Jonathan would not ruin her childhood by letting on about his pain. When Brittain was old enough to figure this out despite his hiding efforts, not to mention overhearing Jonathan let her mother absolutely have it over the whole ordeal, that was when she really started to hate her mother. Genevieve could only oblige, despising her daughter for bringing back constant reminders of a husband she wants to forget.

Brittain lived with Jonathan, and occasionally they would meet with Genevieve for the visits she was supposed to have with her daughter. Sometimes they would “forget,” as awful as that sounds. Neither of them wanted to see her again. That was fine with both parties, as Genevieve didn't exactly want to bring up dark memories either. When they did meet up, the conversations were always horrendously awkward. The feelings from both parties were all too clear. For a while, they reached an agreement that perhaps staying away from each other was the best thing to do. They would visit at least once a year, twice if they were somehow on good terms. Maybe even three times, although that was certainly pushing the limit. However, this all changed when Hogwarts approached. As soon as Brittain received her coveted letter, Genevieve screwed it all up again. If Brittain would be off at a boarding school for the majority of the year, she would no longer be able to make their scheduled visits. In short, Genevieve was demanding time with her in the summer. That was the first bad mark on Brittain's adolescent life. What had possessed the woman to want time with her daughter after all the adversity, no one could really see. Genevieve made it clear she meant what she said, whether it made sense or not. The second bad mark? The judge agreed with her mother.

It was decided that Brittain would spent a month of her summer with the woman. That alone should've rang warning bells. As the years passed, their altercations became worse and worse. Brittain took it upon herself to serve as a constant reminder of the woman's past mistakes. If there was tension between her mother and her stepfather, Brittain wouldn't hesitate to remind him that she had cheated in the past. What was to stop her from doing it again? What if there was an even richer pureblood wizard? When Genevieve would attempt to use some discipline, scold the girl or send her to her room, which was where she would ultimately storm off to anyway, it would never end well. Repeated attempts of running away from their London home are all over Brittain's record. Almost every required month would be shortened. Brittain could be satisfied with this, but every year, the tension was higher than before. The arguments mounted and became more and more vicious. Finally, when Brittain was going into her sixth year at Hogwarts, Genevieve stopped caring. She was pregnant with her second child, and had tried to explain to Brittain that she wanted her to at least acknowledge the baby, as it would be her half-sibling and hadn't done anything wrong, being just a baby. Take it well? Oh heavens no. Brittain simply stared at her and called her a whore. The baby may not have technically been a product of infidelity, as the affair had taken place long before the child's conception, but its father would always be the one who made Genevieve break Brittain's own father. The woman promptly sent her right back to Jonathan's with a lovely “Keep the little bitch” note.

At school, Brittain could forget about her problems at home. Within the walls of Hogwarts, her fellow house members become her family. Even if it’s only makeshift, Brittain has a happy family to look forward to each year. Hogwarts has provided her with the sanctuary she missed out on as a child. For the most part, she has gotten along well with others, and has done exceptionally well with her studies. The only subject she has ever really had a problem in would be Defense Against the Dark Arts. She could remember the spells in class, but under pressure when they were really needed, a sort of panic attack would set in and they came out rather weak. They have since improved, thank goodness, with much practice and some extra help after class.

IT'S THE LAST TIME IN LIFE THAT I'LL EVER TRY (the last few things)
magic phrase; -adminedit-
member title; and after all, you're my WONDERwall.
anything else?; “Get thee to a nunnery!”
roleplay sample;

QUOTE

Had he gone to the wrong house? …Seriously? …No, otherwise they would’ve told him that Zach didn’t live in the house Dylan remembered – but this wasn’t the house that Dylan remembered anyway, so either way, his thoughts were jumbled. There were no signs of anyone having grown up here at all, ever, period. It was like one of those fancy-shmancy, immaculate houses they showed in magazines – although don’t ask how Dylan would know what the houses showed in magazines looked like. He didn’t really, but if he had to guess what one looked like, this would definitely fit the bill.

Where was Zach, anyway? His best buddy! His partner-in-crime! His soul mate! …Well, okay, maybe not that far. His creator, then, would be as extreme as the classifications got. He was nowhere to be found; that was for sure. Dylan had been all over this house searching for him… Well, as much as he could keep track of. The house was far too large for Dylan to be certain of his steps. He had probably covered certain rooms more than twice, and there were probably still rooms that he hadn’t even found. Jeez. Why did people have to live in this colossal things!? Dylan would’ve been happy with a cardboard in a tree! He could make friends with the squirrels and the birds that way. What fun they would have up there. They could make fun of the humans down below while drinking tea.

Finally, the imaginary male had found what he assumed to be Zach’s bedroom. It certainly didn’t appear to occupy more than one person, although it was far plainer than what Dylan would’ve liked to see. What had the world done to him!? Where were all the colors? Where was anything? Oh, poor Zach! It was enough to break poor Dylan’s little heart. In a fit of theatrics, Dylan had flung himself down upon the bed, whilst he assured himself repeatedly that he had nothing to worry about. Nothing had happened to Zach. His parents had always been spoilsports; this was just their doing. That was all. Zach was still the same boy that Dylan knew. Of course he was. There was nothing to worry about. Dylan was merely scaring himself.

By the time anyone else discovered this room, Dylan had changed to a sitting position. Leaning back on his hands, he had been content to stare at the ceiling. Maybe he could make this room livelier, for Zach’s sake. He could probably make it so only he could see the new décor, one of the perks of being an imaginary. Why not? It seemed like a wonderful idea to Dylan. He was almost certain that Zach wouldn’t mind. Heck, why not surprise him with it? It would be the perfect reunification gift! Of course, a unification gift wasn’t necessary or anything, but what did it matter? Since when were surprises necessary?

Of course, this plan of astonishment was ruined by an unexpected interruption, but it was quite welcome once Dylan knew who was doing the interrupting. The discarded bag wasn’t quite as welcome, but Dylan hardly noticed. Zach! Zach Zach Zach! Oh boy, Zach! Excited much? Oh yes. Dylan was very excited, and shoved aside the bag in an I-don’t-know-what-was-thrown-on-me-and-I-don’t-really-care manner, and jumped up with a wide grin – until Zach asked his question. Could he help him? Could he help him!? …What kind of question was that? He could help anyone. Probably everyone in the world needed help with something right that minute, whether they realized it or not. Either way, Dylan wasn’t sure why he was being asked that of all things, and he was about to begin pouting – then he noticed something.

“Ooh, what are these?” he asked, snatching up Zach’s glasses and peering through the lenses. “Ooh! Everything’s big!” he giggled, widening his eyes in them and therefore giving himself quite a comical look. Zach hadn’t had his glasses when he and Dylan had parted, so Dylan, of course, had never seen such a thing before. A few imaginaries had them, but not many, as in Verusido they could pretty much decide whether they wanted human problems, such as vision deficiencies, or not, and imagine them away.

“Heeyyy, you got tall too!” Dylan went on, finally noticing that Zach had, indeed, grown. He placed the glasses back on Zach’s face, carefully since he didn’t want to damage this wondrous magnifying device in any way, then he attempted to determine the height difference between himself and Zach. “I’m taller!” he announced triumphantly, grinning as if it was really something to be proud of.

The thought that Zach might not have remembered him never crossed his mind.

lyric titles credit to the song carry me home by the hush sound<3

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