Title: BLACK, bellatrix
Description: { seventeen - seventh }
Description: { seventeen - seventh }
Bellatrix Black - September 27, 2007 01:32 AM (GMT)
Bellatrix Black
played by: lorelai
- THE PUPPET
- Bellatrix is the third brightest star in the constellation Orion. Also a star system known for being the home of small Greys.
Hydra is the largest of the 88 modern constellations. Also known in Greek mythology as being a treacherous beast with nine heads, nearly undefeatable due to it's double healing abilities.
Black is an expression used to convey the having of extremely dire or unfortunate consequences, giving ruin. Also the being of harshly ironic or sinister.
date of birth : The 1st of February, 1959
house : Slytherin
age : 17
year : 7th
wand type : 11" birch wood, wolf's vein
blood line : Pureblooded (Toujours Pur, of course)
pets : She used to have a cat. A rather adorable one. That, however, went missing quite a while ago.
- THE LOOKS
eye color : Her eyes happen to be her favorite feature, though she shares these with every other member of her family. They bore into your skull, with mesmerizing shape and colour, a mixture of Caribbean blue and metallic green. Yet, somehow, they come out as a peculiar grey colour.
height&weight : Last time she checked (which was a fair while ago) she came in at 5"9, weighing 130 pounds, on the dot.
played by : Megan Fox
full appearance :
- It's quite easy to say that Bellarix posesses something haunting about her, in her air, in her presence. But, at the same time, it's also true. Yes, she is of the Black clan, of a noble and presumptious birth, but, somehow, that just doesn't make up for it. She seems almost regal in her way, in her actions, her strong stance and lifted nose. Through a stranger's perspective, she might just be stuck up. To those who've met her, even breifly, or heard about her, however, she is something much more complicated. 'Something' might just be the right word to describe her, really.
Bellatrix Black is lovely, no doubt, but in her charisma and charm there is an x-factor, a beast-like intensity that is rarely rivalled. It is odd, really, to have a girl of her stature and rank, with the ladylike phrases and curtsies and expensive clothing, to hold such a dislike, such an immense prejudice to the people of one blood. However, being a Black, it is not. She openly displays this disgust with every action, with every lip-twisting snarl to passerbys who happen not to be of the purest blood. Her lips would otherwise be pursed in the look of a constant debate, pale and perfect upon her even complexion.
Her face, when not turned upwards or in the middle of a glare, is, admittedly, quite captivating. It is not entirely unique, but, in turn, very common. It is the common state of it, however, that makes it so uncommon. The symmetry is there, the pale, quietness is there, but, at the same time, it's meticulous, in a way. Every aspect of her face seems to be placed, not grown, not formed, but placed, painted on like the smile of the Mona Lisa. In some ways, it's eerie, but in others, it's art. It's the Black lineage, the beauty. It's inevitable, really.
Her body on matches her flawless features, but it isn't quite as perfect. She's curvaceous, but not as curvy, and slim, not lean. She's delicate-looking, but strong, with toned muscles and a distinctly built frame. Not to say she isn't just the right amount curvy and not too slim, however. But, to be honest, she's not at all satisfied with the way her body seems to have turned out. She is aware, though, of it's state, and how her legs do have the right shape and how her shadow does have a nice hourglass figure. What's to say she's not to flaunt it, to sway her hips a little much or unbutton her blouse just a tad when the professors aren't looking? Or, in some cases, when the professors are looking.
She adores clothing, even if it be muggle, though that's the only thing she'll ever like about them (not that a wizard didn't really come up with some of the more modern fashion statements). She'll dress to score on the weekends, when she's out at Hogsmeade, or wherever it may be that day. Muggle jeans tend to be her favorite, the way they cling to her legs and make her feel quite outstanding, really. And she does prefer the rather lowcut tops, to show off the most of what she does have. After all, she is a woman. But, in the presence of Mum or Dad, it goes without saying that she wears the necessary dress robes, which certainly aren't as flattering to her figure. But, then again, she could very well make up for it.
THE INSIDES
- - cold showers
- breakfast in bed
- snow
- skating
- her family (excepting that horrible Gryffindor boy)
- duelling
- the Dark Lord
- money
- springtime
- mudbloods being punished
- kissing
- boys (pureblooded, as always)
- late nights
- later nights
- sunflowers
- red
- looking in the mirror
- being herself
- - humid-hot days
- too much rain
- classes
- professors
- mudbloods
- any sort of blood traitor
- dirty places
- blue
- chocolate
- sugary foods
- being sick
- rabbits
- reading
- wet grass
- the smell of cinnamon
- smoke
- - being flirtacious
- most of her classes, really
- being loyal
- messing with people's minds
- getting out of tight situations
- insulting pathetic students
- - being nice
- controlling her temper
- little self-control
- Transfiguration
- being prejudice
- not talking back
- -twirling her hair around her fingers
- bititng her bottom lip
- blowing in people's faces
- clenching her fists
- making noise, constantly
patronus : Raven
It really was a day like any other day. At first. And then, of course, she got to go to Hogwarts. She was merely 11, but the overwhelming feeling of being sorted into Slytherin would be amazing. She just knew it. A place where everyone shared the same thoughts, the same feelings, the same opinions on things. That, of course, would be one thing she would never forget.
dream job : Job? What the hell are you rambling on about?
overall personality :
- Three words to describe Bellatrix Black; dangerous, evil, sadistic. The scariest part is, however, that it's true. It's all true. Bellatrix Black is the epitome of eveyrthing you see in the movies-- only twofold.
She's not the type of villain with the cigarette in hand, deathly glare on all those below her. She is, moreorless, the one with the bomb thrown towards the ones below her. She has no conscience, really, no second thoughts. She is an impulsive thinker, however muxh of an oxymoron that may be, and when she thinks, she does it once and only once. She's never wrong. Never. If you accuse her of being wrong, you'll probably end up with a mild hex coming your way. The second time, it'll be a curse.
Bellatrix is veyr idependent, and rarely asks people for help. When she does ask, she expects it, without hesitation, and she expects it to be just the way she wants it. She may be cocky, and arrogant, and evil and disgustingly prejudiced, but she knows that already, and you'll probably end up with something either boiling hot or dangerously sharp in your face. When angry, it's nearly impossible to control her. She doesn't stop her rages for anything, even if it may mean telling some hidden secret or hurting someone, whether she loves them or not. She hates to regret things (which she doesn't do often, no matter what), so she often isolates herself when angry or upset. But, in that dark, charcoal heart, there is a shread of good.
She loves people. She doesn't love boys, she doesn't love her boyfriend of the moment, or her fling... she loves her family, she loves her friends. She will do anything for them, just short of... well, anything. Even if it is murder. If you can get close enough to her, you can manipulate her, convince her to do whatever you want her to. This does have it's limits, and don't expect to be fully intact the next day if she finds out you were using her. She doesn't often consider the consequences of her actions. More like living for the moment.
Though she is a strong individual, Bellatrix has weaknesses and doubts and sometimes even straying thoughts. She's a deep thinker, which often leads her to bizarre conclusions. Like if, one day, she doesn't like the colour green, she'll think maybe she doesn't like Slytherin and that she's softening up and that she may be becoming more acceptable to muggles. But it'll all be blown over once she stalks out into the halls and has a screaming match with one of those mudbloods. Bellatrix has her weaknesses and she’s aware of them. Love is something she has never been able to control, something that burns in her and controls her. And yet, she loves the feeling, the feeling of being wanted, of being needed. Losing someone close to her always found its way into her core, breaking her down slowly from the inside until she was crying and lost in the world. She couldn’t control her weaknesses and fears and because of that, she was helpless with no protection whatsoever. And of course, her old “habit” of flirting with every guy she saw. It grew out of her but she knows it’s still a weakness. Not just for her but for her old flings. Each fling knew her weaknesses, in some form or another.
- THE BEGINNING
hometown : Turnberry, Scotland (she was born there, but that was a bit of a fluke)
mother and father :
- Cygnus Black (47, ministry official)
Druella Rosier (37, housewife)
- Narcissa Black (16, sixth year Slytherin)
Andromeda Black (17, seventh year Ravenclaw)
- Sirius Black (16, sixth year Gryffindor)
Regulus Black (16, sixth year Slytherin)
- Born on the 1st ofFebruary, she was the first and eldest child of Cygnus and Druella. Ever since a child, her father would take her in his lap and tell her stories of the wizarding world and her past. She would be told about muggleborns, the mixing of blood and soon, she was the “perfect” pureblooded girl. When Andromeda came along, Bella was determined to be a good big sister and teach her all she knew but this was a failure to her. The two were just so different that they weren’t compatible. They talked civilly together, they comforted each other when needed and there was that sisterly love but it wasn’t very strong. And when Narcissa was born, Bella looked down on her. She thought that the spoiled brat would turn out like Andromeda but to her surprise, she didn’t. She became Bella’s favorite little sister and they spent a lot of time together.
Even after all the girls were accepted to Hogwarts, there were strong differences between them. Bellatrix, the eldest, had gotten a reputation for being the school’s Slytherin Queen, the beautiful and deadly flirt of the school, as well as the most sadistic girl alive. But that wasn’t a surprise. She did well in school and her intelligence had its benefits. Andromeda was the family’s Ravenclaw, in a way. She was still a Slytherin but this girl was extremely smart. Bellatrix had been proud of her sister when younger, knowing that her intelligence would make her a nice Death Eater. And the favorite little sister was well… the spoiled Slytherin Princess, no? Yet, Bellatrix tried to work with her and to her satisfaction, the hard work paid off.
- THE PUPETEER
contact :
AIM- zomglorelai
other? : I am awesome?
roleplay example :
| QUOTE |
| "Excuse me, could I-" "Miss Evans, I have neither the time nor the patience to deal with you at the moment. If you'd like extra help, please visit me at the designated place at the designated time." Professor McGonagall's wand extended and pointed to a piece of parchment on the wall, on which was scrawled a few hours and, as she said, the place. Could she be even a little more lenient? "Please, I just need it explained one more time." "At the appropriate time, Miss Evans." Once again, the wand to parchment routine. "I don't understand, Professor. And, if I'm not correct, it's your duty as a professor to both teach and encourage students in the learning process! You're pushing me away from learning of any sort!" "Miss Evans," she replied calmly, keeping her composure calm and unaffected, "One more outburst like that, and you can expect your Head Girl privileges taken away." So, she shut up. It wasn't that hard, considering. But, as for McGonagall, Lily was right. My God, she didn't get it. She didn't get it at all. Why was the professor being so ignorant as to leave her sitting there without a hope of getting it? She didn't understand any of it. Not how to make a mouse into a cockroach, or vice versa. She hadn't the slightest inclination on how to do whatever it was you were supposed to do with the goddamn button. What was the point of changing a stupid, little button into some sort of small animal or insect? She could make more use out of the talent to sneeze with her eyes open. She narrowed her eyes at the professor and she turned and walked out of the classroom promptly, as if she were the best thing that happened to this stupid, idiotic facility. Well, she wasn't. At all. If she was the best thing that happened to this stupid, idiotic facility, she would actually have the compassion to help her. Goddamnit. Son of a- ahggh. Lily gave an aggravated groan before thunking herself down at a desk and slamming open her textbook. Well, then. If the professor refused to explain it to her for the seventh time, she'd teach it to herself. Couldn't be that hard. Even the Slytherins understood it. She flipped to chapter 16, ripping a few pages along the way. Oh well. She would sit here in the empty classroom and learn it. And learn it well. As she took out a few pieces of parchment and her quills, however, a thought came to her. She could get help. A tutor even. But, that would probably ruin her reputation of being the smart one. So, what was the point of that? Besides actually learning something in this cursed class. All she ever did in here was doodle. She had hundreds of pages filled with drawings-- hundreds of them-- tucked away inside her bag. She could just as easily take them out right now and continue. But, no. She wasn't missing dinner for doodling. She was missing dinner for Transfiguration. Resisting temptation, she set out to work. Yet, unsurprisingly, within a few minutes, she had already made a few little faces in the margin of her paper, one of them nearing on the limit, such as herself. She glanced around the room nervously, almost expecting someone to be there witnessing her psychotic fit. But, no one was there to see the once beautiful hue of emerald plagued by scorn and anger. Her eyes did convey more emotion than she liked. Now would be one of those rare times when she didn't mind. She just didn't get it. Those explanations seemed absolutely foreign to her. Converting and changing, what was the difference? Reversing? What the hell? Did she need to care? No. Did she need to learn it? Yes. Could she? Another negatory. God-bloody-damnit. Damnit, damn, damn. She was getting angry again. Aggravated. And, if this didn't stop, she'd probably go all rogue on someone. Which wasn't what she planned. So, silently keeping her anger inside, she got up and lay down on the floor. As odd as this may seem, she honestly cared more about staying sane than people seeing her lying on the floor in the middle of the Transfiguration classroom. Plus, the ceiling was far more interesting than her textbook. |
Lily Evans - September 27, 2007 03:01 AM (GMT)
Accepted.
Welcome to Buried with Secrets.
Welcome to Buried with Secrets.