Post by Xanthe Lynnette Murder on Feb 16, 2010 18:15:15 GMT -5
XANTHE|LYNNETTE|MURDER
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What's the hook, the twist, within this verbose mystery?
I would gladly bet my life upon it.
That the ghost you love, your ray of light will fizzle out, without hope.
I would gladly bet my life upon it.
That the ghost you love, your ray of light will fizzle out, without hope.
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[/size]IT’S A LIE SHE’S BEEN CARRING AROUND
IT’S THE LIE THAT WILL BRING HER DOWN
[/font][/size]IT’S THE LIE THAT WILL BRING HER DOWN
m a k e y o u r m o v e[/center]
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[/size]Name: Xanthe Lynnette Murder
Nickname: None
Age/Birthday: July 5th, 1961. 15 years old
Gender: Female
Orientation: Straight
Blood Status: Half-blood
Affiliation: Death Eater
Year/House: 5th year Slytherin
Wand: 13 inches, Rosewood, Chimaera scale
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[/size]TAKES PRIDE IN APPEARANCE
AND THE JOB IN HAND
[/size]AND THE JOB IN HAND
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[/size]Eyes: Green
Hair: Light brown
Height: 62 inches
Weight: 105lbs
Distinguishing Features: Glasses
Play-by: Me, Jessica Murder (minus the pink hair).
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[/size]IT’S THE SIMPLE FLAW
THE MIND FORGETS TO LOOK FOR
[/size]THE MIND FORGETS TO LOOK FOR
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[/size]Erised: She sees herself standing proudly with her robes rolled up to her elbows to display her Dark Mark. Xanthe’s arms are to her sides and she’s smirking, holding the head of her victim in her right hand by the hair. She’s somewhat blood-splattered but looking very triumphant and pleased. Xanthe only wants to please and get revenge on those she dislikes, even if they haven’t done anything wrong.
Patronus: Xanthe’s Patronus is a cat. Her best memory is her first day at Hogwarts, getting sorted into Slytherin. She sat and listened to Lucius Malfoy and his friends and ate quietly, eavesdropping. She remembers the pride and excitement of just being in the castle, going to the girl’s dormitory and looking at her reflection in the window thinking, This is me. I’m finally here.
Boggart: She is very frightened by Inferi, so, so scared. She hates the way they stumble and crawl, how bony they are, how their flesh is slowly decaying. It makes her cringe just thinking about the living dead, so much she cowers in fear sometimes.
Dementor: Xanthe’s worst memory is the night she almost drowned by the docks near her home. She had been angry at her parents and decided to go off exploring, but only slipped into the water. Xanthe couldn’t swim. She was only six years old, and that traumatized her for many weeks after. She couldn’t bear the thought of water for the longest time.
Amortentia:
Vanilla
Roses
Cinnamon
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[/size]THE PIECE YOU DIDN’T SEE
AND THE PIECE YOU DIDN’T FIGHT FOR
[/size]AND THE PIECE YOU DIDN’T FIGHT FOR
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[/size]Likes:
Potions
Dueling
Divination
Writing fictional stories about existing people
Drawing
Voodoo dolls
Causing pain to whom she dislikes
Cats
Quidditch
Being “awesome”
Death Eaters
Desserts
Strawberries
Fighting
Fire
Dislikes:
Lily Evans
Gryffindors
Mudbloods
Muggles
People who have no respect for their House
The color yellow
Gold
Chocolate
The outdoors
Being a half-blood
History of Magic
Rules
Strengths:
Once she makes a mistake, it is never made again
Decent spell knowledge
Somewhat advanced in Potions
Straight-forward
Hardly has any fear for anything
Brave
Never backs down from anything
Weaknesses
VERY competitive
Has no regard for rules
Arrogant
Sarcastic
Unreasonably violent
Will do anything to prove herself
Listens to anyone higher-up than herself
Indulges into admirations
Overall Personality:
Xanthe is what you might call a mean person. She doesn‘t take trash from anyone, but she will gladly give it to anyone she feels deserves it, and then some. She likes to torment Mudbloods and Gryffindors physically, mentally, emotionally, any way she can. Xanthe hardly likes anyone and when she does, it is completely biased and extremely selective.
She is a dreamer, fantasizing about anyone and anybody in various ways. When she draws or writes, it is usually about murder and deception. Some of it is love-based. After all, she is a girl and likes a variety of boys. Xanthe overlooks anyone who doesn‘t fully meet her standards, signaling she will most likely be single her whole life, but she tries, especially for Slytherins.
She is very deceptive and likes to keep secrets, giving off a somewhat mysterious vibe. Self-centered and foolish, she likes to make people she doesn’t feel worthy enough to speak with her work for her attention, even if she isn’t worth it. She also likes breaking the rules.
Anyone who messes with her artwork and stories is going to get stupefied. Xanthe does not want anyone seeing her inner feelings. She feels that could later be used against her as blackmail if need be.
In short, Miss Murder is arrogant, selfish, cruel, sadistic, and uncaring. However, she does have love for those very few people, and will die for them. Only for those she likes will the nice, sincere Xanthe shine through, just enough to get a peek.
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[/size]IT’S THE CRACKING OF THE GLASS
THE HAUNTING OF YOUR PAST
[/size]THE HAUNTING OF YOUR PAST
m a k e y o u r m o v e[/center]
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[/size]Family: Alexander Murder, father, half-blood
Fiona Murder, mother, half-blood
Pets: None
Residence: Liverpool
History:
Xanthe was raised in a middle-class home by the sea in Liverpool, England. Her father works for the Ministry, and her mother makes a considerable wage working as a wedding planner. She is an only child, so Xanthe always got whatever she wanted material-wise. She was sort of lonely most of the time because she didn’t make friends easily, given her snaky attitude. Of course, a few friends were acquired, but they weren’t sufficient enough to keep her interest since they were average Muggle children.
Once her Hogwarts life began, Xanthe began to feel like it was her purpose to be there. Around mid-year of her first year, she learned about Voldemort and Death Eaters, and desired to be one. The power and fame they upheld was so inspiring, and naturally, she began to work towards her goal of becoming one herself. This landed her a title of being a mean, selfish, deceiving girl. Which she proudly is.
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[/size]YOU TOOK YOUR EYES UP OFF THE GAME
YOU’VE GOT NO ONE LEFT TO BLAME
[/size]YOU’VE GOT NO ONE LEFT TO BLAME
m a k e y o u r m o v e[/center]
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[/size]Name/Alias: Xanthe
Age: 15
Roleplay Experience: around 3 years
How you heard about us: Mina
Code Phrase: -admin edit-
Roleplay Sample:
“Not strong enough to deal with your problems soberly, I see.”
Severus’s hatred-filled black eyes mimicked the feeling of disposition that coursed through his veins as he looked to Sirius Black from the doorway. He was always out to catch anyone doing something prohibited by the school, despite who they were. Severus was always sticking his nose into other peoples’ business and never paid too much attention to his own. His only concern in being here was to get this nuisance what he deserved; a trip out of Hogwarts, a school he now considered rather god forsaken.
Perhaps that’d only be too easy of a punishment, rather, not a punishment at all.
His body tensed as his hands did at his sides, curled somewhat into menacing pale fists. Snape wasn’t as dangerous-looking as he would like to be with his lanky frame, relatively short stature, and aged clothing. Sure, he wasn’t as rich and handsome as the Gryffindor that stood from him, but he had something Sirius didn’t; drive. Severus had the determination and passion for success, considering he felt his life meant nothing unless he was to do so. This simple frame of mind kept him breathing day after day.
A thin hand reached to the wooden door, shutting it quietly and in a deliberately secretive way. He didn’t want to be caught by any of the professors, especially not the headmaster himself. Being one of his worst imaginations, he hardly ever missed a class, and was always on time for each of them.
At least Severus was breaking the rules for a purpose unlike Sirius, who was only here to relieve a stress-ridden life.
Glaring sideways to the paint-chipped bathroom stalls, he crossed his arms defiantly, a frown forming on his lips. This place was completely a dump. Half of the toilets in the bathrooms didn’t flush, mainly from the results of troublemakers and pranksters, which was the same group as far as Severus was concerned. Graffiti occasionally littered the insides of the stalls as well as the dingy-yellow tiled walls, making them appear more worn-down than they were in the first place. Some obstinacies were damned enough to be inerasable, giving whoever happened upon them a scoff of appreciation or disregard. The sinks were ridden with only god knows what, but all the mirrors were thankfully intact. That was a surprise.
But all in all, Hogwarts was his home.
Blinking past an unpredictably flickering light over head, he stared to Sirius Black.
“You’re nothing without your bloody group of Gryffindors, are you?”
Severus’s hatred-filled black eyes mimicked the feeling of disposition that coursed through his veins as he looked to Sirius Black from the doorway. He was always out to catch anyone doing something prohibited by the school, despite who they were. Severus was always sticking his nose into other peoples’ business and never paid too much attention to his own. His only concern in being here was to get this nuisance what he deserved; a trip out of Hogwarts, a school he now considered rather god forsaken.
Perhaps that’d only be too easy of a punishment, rather, not a punishment at all.
His body tensed as his hands did at his sides, curled somewhat into menacing pale fists. Snape wasn’t as dangerous-looking as he would like to be with his lanky frame, relatively short stature, and aged clothing. Sure, he wasn’t as rich and handsome as the Gryffindor that stood from him, but he had something Sirius didn’t; drive. Severus had the determination and passion for success, considering he felt his life meant nothing unless he was to do so. This simple frame of mind kept him breathing day after day.
A thin hand reached to the wooden door, shutting it quietly and in a deliberately secretive way. He didn’t want to be caught by any of the professors, especially not the headmaster himself. Being one of his worst imaginations, he hardly ever missed a class, and was always on time for each of them.
At least Severus was breaking the rules for a purpose unlike Sirius, who was only here to relieve a stress-ridden life.
Glaring sideways to the paint-chipped bathroom stalls, he crossed his arms defiantly, a frown forming on his lips. This place was completely a dump. Half of the toilets in the bathrooms didn’t flush, mainly from the results of troublemakers and pranksters, which was the same group as far as Severus was concerned. Graffiti occasionally littered the insides of the stalls as well as the dingy-yellow tiled walls, making them appear more worn-down than they were in the first place. Some obstinacies were damned enough to be inerasable, giving whoever happened upon them a scoff of appreciation or disregard. The sinks were ridden with only god knows what, but all the mirrors were thankfully intact. That was a surprise.
But all in all, Hogwarts was his home.
Blinking past an unpredictably flickering light over head, he stared to Sirius Black.
“You’re nothing without your bloody group of Gryffindors, are you?”
