Post by EPONINE DOMINIQUE DOLOHOV on Mar 15, 2011 18:20:20 GMT
The Revolution Has Begun
"There's no need to call me sir Professor."
FULL NAME: eponine dominique dolohov
NICKNAMES:
- she hates her first name so most of her friends call her dom.
- dommy
- pony (she'll hex you)
- pip
- pine
- doll
- dolly (she'll hex you harder)
- doll face (see above)
AGE: sixteen
BIRTHDAY: april 3rd
SEXUALITY: straight
BLOODLINE: pure
HOUSE: slytherin
YEAR: sixth
JOB: student
SIDE: death eater
SPECIES/SPECIAL ABILITIES: none
CANON: yes
"You don't know what I'm capable of, you don't know what I've done!"
GENERAL APPEARANCE: Eponine Dolohov was graced with her father's family's good looks, fortunately, and not her mother or uncles's grotesque and bizarre appearance. However, there is the added complication (for her) that she looks like a doll. Most people probably call her 'dolly' because of her last name, but now they most certainly call her that because of her appearance as well. She looks fragile and near death with her short stature, her translucent skin, and her victorian garb.
Eponine has white-blonde hair that could rival the Malfoy family's, striking pale blue eyes, and a oval shaped face that is youthful and doll-like in appearance. Combined with her short stature of five foot two, and the fact that she likes to dress up, it only aids in making her look like a porcelian doll. However, looks can be deceiving. She isn't as sweet as she appears to be.
She wears her hair short, yet girlish. She would not like to be confused with a boy, though, with her penchant for wearing very effeminate and stylish women's Victorian garb, that isn't bound to happen unless the person is partially blind or simply being rude.
She is very short, so she likes to wear heels that take her from five foot two to five foot five. It's not much of an improvement, but it makes her look less like child and more like a nearly average sized woman, which is a plus in her eyes.
MOST LIKED FEATURE: her hair, her eyes
MOST HATED FEATURE: her doll like, fragile appearance - her very translucent, ghost like skin.
HERITAGE: british
ETHNICITY: Caucasian, etc
"The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure."
GENERAL PERSONALITY: RELIABLE. pip may be a lot of things. tactless, angry, aggressive, immature . . . but if there's one thing you can count on, it's her. if she has to be somewhere, she'll be there. even if she doesn't want to be. she will do whatever is needed and expected of her because underneath the tough exterior she is a gentle and caring person. good luck finding that part of her, though. she keeps it locked away from most.
PRANKSTER. pip loves to pull pranks on people. whether it be something as simple as a prank involving fart noises or something more elaborate like getting someone into a room to scare them senseless, she loves a good joke. however, she knows where to draw the line. she would never scar anyone for life or ruin their childhoods simply for a laugh.
IMPATIENT. pip isn't the most patient of people. if you tell her that you're going to do something, you best do it as soon as possible. she will hold you to it, and if you have no intention of doing it, then you're going to face her wrath.
HOT TEMPERED. pip fits the stereotypical hotheaded slytherin. she has a really nasty temper. it is best to stay on her good side because once you've angered pip, there is literally nothing one can say or do that will make her back down. she becomes even more reckless and more of a dare devil than usual, and will take risks that she normally wouldn't when she is more levelheaded. risks that could end up getting her killed.
BLUNT. this sometimes has people insisting that she's tactless, and maybe that's true. however, she was always taught that honesty is the best policy. if she thinks the dress makes you look fat, she'll tell you so. so it's best not to ask her for her opinion if you don't want to be insulted.
PASSIONATE. pip is passionate about everything she's interested in. her family, her friends, dragons, animals, and quidditch. she throws herself into her work and her relationships, and is always one of those people that can become tiring after a few hours or even minutes depending on the person's personality. she is demanding and headstrong, and she is usually of the opinion that she is right. no matter what. so it is hard for this passionate redhead to admit that she's ever wrong, even if that's bound to occur, sometimes.
SARCASTIC. to pip, sarcasm is like a second language. she is always or nearly always rather snarky and snide. it's not that she doesn't like you, it's just she thinks that you're an idiot most likely. don't take offense, dom finds most people to be stupid. it's also a defense mechanism. it keeps people from asking her too many questions and getting down to know the true her. she uses sarcasm to shield herself from people she feels might hurt her.
STUBBORN. pip is really rather stubborn. she doesn't like being told no or what to do. which leads us to another of her traits. rebellious. dom has always been doing the opposite of what people have told her to since she was a child. it means that she got into a lot of trouble, but bull-headed pip never learned or never cared to learn how to play by the rules.
BOLD. pip is rather daring and does do things that other people would consider rather stupid or rash. she doesn't care, though. if there's anything dom loves, it is proving people wrong. she loves to prove to people that she can do everything they said that she couldn't.
Underneath this tough exterior there are other traits that dom expresses...
LOVING. pip will love you to death if you let her. she is very adorable around the people she truly adores like her little brother louis and her cat, augustine. she doesn't like to let most people know she is this way because she feels as if they would take advantage of her.
CARING. pip will lend you twenty galleons to save your life or lend you a shoulder to cry on if you're down. even if she doesn't like you (this, of course, excludes order supporters and the like). she knows that even strong people have their limits and she knows how hard and painful it can be to go through things on your own.
LOYAL. pip is loyal. earn her friendship, and she'll never steer you wrong. earn her wrath, and she will never stop disliking you until the end of days.
COMPASSIONATE. pip is very compassionate. she loves people and she loves animals. sometimes she loves the former more than the latter, but the fact of the matter is that pip cares even if she wants you to believe that she doesn't.
CONFIDENT. like most of the her family, pip exudes an aura of confidence. she walks with her head lifted high. pip knows that there isn't anyone that could keep her down for long and she knows that there isn't nothing that could keep her down, as long as she puts her mind and heart into it.
SENSITIVE. pip may be tough and strong, but underneath it all she's sensitive. she's a fragile little girl, that is prone to pessimism, fits of anger, and immaturity. dom simply wants to be loved, but she has a problem with letting people in. she cries often, when alone because she feels that people wouldn't understand and only think less of her and think she was weak for doing so.
HOBBIES:
- dancing
- spending time with animals especially dangerous ones.
- taking care of dragons.
- quidditch
- singing
- people watching
- collecting sea shells
- making clothes
DISLIKES:
- mudbloods
- spiders
- suck-ups
- cowardice
- stupidity
- rape
- being told no
- being exposed
- being lied to
- gossip - she has little time to go around gossipmongering, she wants the truth and nothing but the truth. that way she can mock people properly.
- rapists
- easily confused people
- unintelligent conversation
- unintelligent people
- trolls
- order members
- order supporters
- aurors
- divination
- arithmancy
- history of magic
- transfiguration
- distasteful clothing
- sluts
- pimps
- people that show too much skin, especially simply to get attention.
- bad hair days
- voldemort - he creeps her out.
LIKES:
- care of magical creatures
- potions
- intelligent conversation
- sarcasm - as long as it's not directed at her.
- making fun of idiots
- snape's witty remarks at retarded people
- watching people argue
- people watching
- reading
- singing
- dancing
- making her own clothes
- victorian fashion
- staying covered
- looking good
- voldemort - she agrees with his principal, even if she personally finds him creepy.
- boys
- handsome boys
- vodka
- ladylike people like herself.
- daggers
- dragons
- lying - not being lied to.
- the taste of blood
FEARS:
- acromantula - she hates spiders
- inferi - even if they're on her side, she finds them creepy
- dementors - see above
- dying alone - she's scared of chasing off mr. right, or her father doing so.
- drowning - she has an irrational fear of water, despite the fact that she's a good swimmer.
- that the dark lord will be defeated.
SECRETS:
- she likes the taste of blood - something that both terrifies her and amuses her.
- she doesn't really mind being called doll, but she isn't about to admit it. in a way, she finds it sweet, but she can't let on to it or people she doesn't like would probably call her it, more often.
- she has wondered what it would be like to be a boy.
- she has wanted to kiss a girl before simply to see what it's like, but she isn't about to admit that or act on it.
"I enjoyed the meetings, too. It was like having friends."
GENERAL HISTORY: Eponine Dolohov was the first born child of Antonin and Alecto Dolohov. She knew as the first heir and a girl, she wasn't exactly what her father was looking for. But she made it her personal vendetta to make him proud no matter what. She would not be the typical girly girl too afraid to soil her nails, and yet she wouldn't be a complete brute, either.
As a baby she was calm and controlled, barely crying. She was merely observant and curious, and was fonder of her father holding her than her mother mollycoddling her.
Her first sign of magic happened when she was four, she was angry at her mother for one reason or another and turned Alecto's hair bright indigo for two weeks. No matter what potion that anyone procurred couldn't set her mother's hair right. So the Death Eater had to go around with indigo hair. She may have not laughed to her mother's face, but she found it hilarious.
When she was eleven, she was sent to Hogwarts. The sorting hat considered putting her in Gryffindor, but she would have none of that. So in the end, she was sorted into Slytherin, the only house she knew would make her father proud of her, and she wanted to make him proud.
Now in her sixth year, Eponine has the ambition to become a dragon tamer. After all, dragons could come in handy in keeping the mudbloods and mudblood lovers at bay. It might make them come to their senses and see that Voldemort and his followers will not easily be defeated.
FAMILY:
mother - alecto dolohov nee carrow
father - antonin dolohov
younger brothers: patrick - fourth year, nevan - first year.
"Make way for the heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through..."
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE: I don't know if it's my best, but it's one of my favorites. I'm sorry, but it's not of this character.Linda didn't know what was going to happen to her and she hated that more than anything else. She hated not being in control of anything especially in the direction of where her life was going. It wasn't a pretty little picture and she despised herself for it. This was partially her fault no matter how much she wanted to blame it on Severus, it wasn't something that had spiraled in it's entirety out of her control. The red head closed her onyx eyes wanting nothing more than to be able to dream in peace. She hadn't seen her father for days since his house-elf had tried to persuade her to stay where she was, she considered herself lucky and figured this had to do with him being so busy with his work. She had, of course, refused being the stubborn creature that she was. The elf hadn't been impressed. But she had slipped from the room and to the Astronomy Tower probably against her better judgment singing of all things. Once Upon a December, a song which her mother used to sing to her. She had treasured that song so very much. Ever since her youth, it had been one of her favorites. Sadly it was the only thing she remembered of her mother's voice. For the woman had died when she was six, she wondered what life would have been like had her mother lived. She was sure her parents would have divorced at some point even if it was a thing frowned upon in pureblood societies simply because they always fought. She knew not about but she knew that things couldn't been easy for them, supporting opposite causes and all . . .
It pained her that she couldn't remember anything of her mother, but she couldn't. Matilda was fading slowly from the girl's mind, and though, she had a good memory she wondered if her mind was doing this to her to make things less painful for her. But she would remember, always, even if it were painful. Her mother deserved to be remembered. Sadly, today was the anniversary of her mother's death. She couldn't give the woman her usual red rose that she put on the woman's grave normally. She had already risked leaving Hogwarts once and even that as Dumbledore pointed out was too much. She tried not to give out a huff of impatience as she considered the predicament she was in. Well, it certainly wasn't a good one, at any rate. She wished that she could just will her eyes shut and think of a better tomorrow and then it would just appear. Like a miracle. Now that would be something for one to truly treasure, the ginger considered. Not for very long, however, before sleep flung itself upon her like an unwanted lover forcing themselves on with the strong scent of alcohol on their breath. Her eye lids slowly fell and her long lashes fluttered until the young woman's head collided with the autumn leaves littering the forest's floor in a blanket.
Her body shook with tremors she couldn't control, and sweat ran down her brow, yet her body slept on completely unaware. Somewhat at ease and yet not completely. Until of course, the man pointed his wand at her and whispered Advada Kedavra in that cruel voice of his and a flash of green light shot from his wand. "NO!" she shrieked, waking herself. Her heart thundered loudly in her chest and it took her a few moments to realize that it had been a dream. It was nothing but a dream. But what a troubling dream it had been, indeed. What a troubling notion to see oneself killed in their own dream and then she realized the redhead in her dream had blue-green eyes. "Mother," she said in a soft whisper, putting a hand to her head which was now throbbing as her body had been moments ago. Why was this conflicting memory manifesting itself into a nightmare time and time again? Did it mean something? Should she just forget it? She wished that she could. But the dream kept pounding her in the head as if it were telling her it shouldn't be forgotten. What could she do with it, though? What was to be done with it?
What could she honestly gain from thinking of it time and time again? Nothing good came from it and yet it wouldn't leave her be. It had to be meaningful, but it wasn't something she'd be willing to discuss with her father. He would just scoff at her for still having nightmares at her age, she was sure. Though, he had never mocked her for it in the past. Maybe she was just inclined to want to hate him. As if she needed to hate him. As if he hadn't endured enough pain in his life already. What in Merlin's name was wrong with her? Why was she losing focus and why was a dream affecting her so poorly. It was only a dream. A pointless, meaningless insignificant dream and yet it seemed poignant because it kept coming back over and over again. Surely that meant something, didn't it? Of course it did. But what did it mean? That something had happened to her mother, something other than what she had seen? But that had been impossible, she had watched her mother die. Yet her mind's eye saw that conflicting image with the man killing her mother. She never saw his face, she knew it was a male from his intonation, but that was impossible. She knew how her own mother died, hadn't she? She put a hand to her head letting out an exclamation of indignation. She shouldn't be getting so unhinged over a dream and yet here she was.
Unveiled to her through her subconscious was this terror. It twisted and meddled and played with her. For she was quite sure that this couldn't have happened, but doubt was seeping in, too. She wasn't so sure that she should doubt herself. What if this dream was real? What if it had happened instead of the Potions explosion. Her head throbbed and with trepidation she realized she was laying in a pile of leaves. Cursing herself inwardly for picking such a stupid place to expire in, she lifted her head, her ginger hair falling behind her like strange red waves. Her dark eyes had spotted movement, but her heart which was already beating in her chest like a drum relaxed at the realization that the movement had only been a unicorn and nothing more dangerous. She relaxed a bit, leaning up against the bark of the tree, her mind in a tumultuous flurry of confusion. She didn't know what to believe anymore and this reoccurring nightmares, she was beginning to think were an actually memory bubbling over the surface of someone's faulty memory charm. Which was odd, for if this were true, why didn't they just take away all memory of Matilda completely. Perhaps they had tried that, for there was very little she remembered of her mother and she had a very good memory. She cursed, her voice sounding like a mere mist in the vast darkened skies.
The wind played with her hair, as if taunting her with some secret it knew well, but she had yet to remember. She closed her obsidian eyes, trying to will the dream away, and yet she knew her efforts were futile. Still, she would try. She couldn't go on like this. Merlin knew she couldn't. What was she doing in Hogwarts anyway? It was her own fault she was here, her stupid Gryffindor bravery had gotten her into this mess and she saw no silver lining in sight. She felt like crying, but she wouldn't allow herself to do that. Crying was a sign of weakness and she refused to be weak. Merlin knew her mother would be ashamed of such thoughts or talk had she been alive, but Severus' lessons had rung hard and sharp and no matter how much she tried to deny any likeness to him, she had been influenced by him and he was in her. That's what she detested. She didn't want to be him or like him and yet she was trapped by her own being into being like him for she was his daughter and it was only natural that offspring take after their parents, most unfortunately.
She wanted nothing more than to belong to someone else to be an others daughter, sometimes. Did fate really hate her so much to have her sire be a heartless man like Severus Snape? Apparently it did, but fate had nothing to do with the current mess she had landed herself in. Linda knew that full well. The ginger haired girl ran a hand through her fiery mane. Oh what the mess she was in and her mind had to mock her on top of it all. She knew her mother had died in that explosion. She had seen it with her honest to Merlin eyes. Why was her mind trying to deny that? Perhaps, it was because she felt guilty for her mother's death after all these years. She wanted to bring Matilda back. She truly did, but she couldn't. Without warning, her flood gates went down and tears streaked down her cheeks like an unwanted flood. Her body shook with tremors, but these differed from the ones that had shaken her in her reoccurring nightmare. What annoyed her the most about these dreams was that she always thought it was herself dying before she realized, each time, the woman had blue-green eyes not black like hers. Was she coming unhinged?
That would be lovely. She hadn't even run into Severus yet despite being his assistant and she didn't want to, either. She was sure his words would only be cutting and harsh as always and she didn't want to hear them. No, Linda Odette Eileen Snape didn't want to hear any words of wisdom or sarcasm from Severus Snape, thank you very much. She sighed, attempting to calm herself, tell herself it would be okay. But it wasn't working. She glared darkly at the stars with their false beacon of hope, wishing that she could shoot them down from the sky one by one for being the worst sorts of liars. This world wreaked of death and despair, though, and she knew it needed one shining light. She wouldn't lose her hope that a brighter day would come, but she couldn't help but be cynical and bitter about it. Her wings had been ripped out from underneath her and she was forced to stay at Hogwarts with a father she hadn't spoken to for two years. There was a good reason for that, but she doubted anyone would care. They always seemed to find her pitiless for not bothering to talk to him for two years, at all, and never saying goodbye. Perhaps, they were right, but what else could she be to a father who had never loved her but cold? She couldn't be anything less, he wouldn't allow it.
Indignantly, stubbornly the ginger haired woman glared viciously at the moon as if it were it's fault that she were in this predicament. She knew very well, that it wasn't, but she couldn't help but be irritated with fate and lady nature at this point in time. Why couldn't anything go right? Why shouldn't everything go right for her? Hadn't she had enough torture growing up with her father in her youth? One would think so and yet Lady Fate seemed to disagree wholeheartedly on that affair completely. Slight annoyance flashed in her midnight eyes before she sighed, falling back to silent introspection. It wouldn't do to lose her temper, nothing could be gained from that, but she hated being here of all places. Hogwarts wasn't a safe haven anymore but one that was tainted and darkened with the presence of the Death Eaters and she had to mingle around with her father's colleagues being his assistant and all. They all leered at her as if she didn't know what they were thinking. She had a pretty good idea and none of these thoughts were really wonderful things to consider, but she had kept her head held high. She wouldn't let it drop now because of some dream. Yet this dream haunted her. She wanted to know if it were truth or just a fiction that her mind kept torturing her with.
She wasn't sure how she'd figure that out because she never saw the face of the man in her dream. How was she supposed to establish the connection between an unknown man and her mother. A man who supposedly killed her mother? Well, that would be preposterous and would probably sound as such to any bystander. She winced, closing her ebony eyes, letting her long ginger tresses wrap around her tall, lithe frame. She stood at a natural six feet, which was tall for a woman but she didn't care. She had no control over that and she wasn't about to complain about that now. She opened her onyx eyes to hear a rustling of the leaves. Sitting here wasn't improving her mood or her thought process any. She thought she should stand up, but what good would that do? If someone was here, then they'd see her, and surprisingly the leaves were soft and comforting. Almost like a mother's touch. Perhaps, that's why they spoke of nature as a mother. She could be quite kind, sometimes.
Her dark eyes gazed into the depths of the forest's oblivion, almost as if she were a lost child who had no idea how to find her parents. But she was no child, the innocence of her childhood had been stripped away years ago. She was a young adult, a mere nineteen, with the whole world ahead of her. Her future had looked so bright too until she was captured and brought to that Merlin forsaken school, something she had her father to thank for. She wanted nothing more than to scream, rage, perhaps even hit him in the face for it. Why couldn't he just keep his interfering nose out of her business. He should have just let them kill her. She was no coward, though, that's probably what the Order thought of her thanks to Severus. How was she supposed to explain that she was still alive? Not to mention that bloody dark mark on her thigh. She gave a slight hiss, running a hand through her red hair. It wouldn't do to dwell on this, she'd only make herself angrier and she had agreed earlier that she shouldn't allow herself to be so angry.
Sighing, the sallow young woman let her dark eyes follow the progress of some leaves that were blowing around in the wind. She wondered if anyone would find her here and assume that she was nothing more than a mere student. With a snort she glanced at her knees, leaves were strewn all over her robes. She couldn't even see her knees. That didn't particularly bother her, believe it or not. She was just content in being alone, though, the thoughts of her nightmare, well, she wished those would bid her goodbye and yet they wouldn't. They lingered, tormented, and twisted almost as if there were a knife in her brain twisting and meddling until she bled out her ears from insanity. She wanted it to stop. Like most sane people she wasn't a fan of pain especially not mental pain and right now her head was throbbing. It made her wonder how she could be feeling this array of emotions if her head was throbbing so badly, but some mysteries of life would always remain unsolved. She hoped the dream wasn't one of those.
"Reading between the lines, I’d say she thinks you’re a bit conceited, mate."
NAME: linders
AGE: 24
GENDER: femme
YEARS ROLEPLAYING: close to 12 years now
LOCATION: USofA
HOW DID YOU FIND US: slayer
