Post by alexander on Jun 27, 2012 20:15:00 GMT
alexander langston mclaggen
[/b]
full name: Alexander Langston McLaggen
age: fifteen
year: fifth year
birthday: December 10th
blood line: pureblood
house: Hufflepuff
"So, Mrs. McLaggen, you're Alex's mum."
"Yes - unfortunately so, at times. Don't get me wrong - I love my dear little Alex, poor soul that he is, but he's got his father's blood in him, that boy. He's always been marked with that troublemaking streak...bound to get himself arrested one of these days, that boy is. It's really rather exhausting to deal with...did you know after a certain amount of howlers, they stop letting you send them?"
"Troublemaker? Sounds more like a Gryffindor than a Hufflepuff, eh?"
"Yes, well, his father was and so was I as well, but I suppose the sorting hat had different plans in mind. I can see why - despite his rebellious streak, he's really rather the shy, meek Hufflepuff type. Takes to his work. Nonetheless, I'm proud of him no matter what house he's in. I wish I could say the same about his father."
"You speak a lot about his father....not all of it sounds so good."
"Ah, yes, well, not all of it is. I loved - still love - him dearly, but he hasn't made the best choices, let's just say."
CHAPTER TWO: His sister
"So...Alex and his father. What happened?"
"Oh, good God, what did my mother say to you? Well, I wish I could tell you, but I honestly can't answer that question. He hasn't spoken much at home since Dad was put into Azkaban. The only time he ever says much of anything at all is when Mum's shouting at him. Alex gets in a great deal of trouble now; never used to. He was always a shy, sweet boy. I still think he is. I just...I don't know. I really don't know what to say about him."
"Are you not proud of your brother?"
"Oh, no - you can't mistake what I said for that! That's unfair! It wasn't what I meant at all, oh, no...I only meant that Alex's personality has, erm, changed, and, honestly, I wish I could explain it; I really do, but....please, no more questions."
CHAPTER THREE: His best friend
"So...what can you tell me about Alex?"
"Alex? Why do you ask? Well, he's buckets of fun, usually; the type of guy who makes you laugh...got a bit of a dry sense of humor. Likes to pull things on the professors; pretty sure they all would hate him if it wasn't for the fact that he's a bit of a genius - writes the best essays of anyone I've ever met. Honestly, though, Alex isn't really that guy who wants attention. He's a bit of a wallflower, actually. Not a huge people-person. Likes to have fun but doesn't open up much. We've been friends for as long as I can remember, but I can't recall a single conversation about feelings or...anything important, really."
"But he's your best friend."
"I never said he wasn't. It's just...I don't know. He's one of those complicated people. You would think that the jokester, troublemaker guy would be this big snob - all full of himself, y'know? - but he's really not. He tries to keep the eyes off him. I just think he's got these urges to, like, 'live on the wild side' or something. Maybe someone said something to him or something....I don't know."[/size][/ul]
alias: Haley
gender: female
rp sample: Charlotte Evercourt absolutely, positively hated owls. Her older brother, Tom, had had an owl during his time at Hogwarts, named Hermes. All she remembered of it was the awful sound of his screeching, like nails on a chalkboard, day and night. Hermes had been one of those awful attention-seeking pets that never shut up. Ever since then, she'd never been one for owls. However, now that she knew how much worse it could be, she was sort of starting to regret not choosing an owl.
Charlotte had made the mistake of choosing the most temperamental cat in the shop when it was time to choose her Hogwarts companion. A small tabby named Gideon, all she had thought about was how cute and small it was - typical, for an eleven-year-old girl. Five years later, she realized how stupid she'd been to get a cat. Gideon was the most arrogant, stuck-up, annoying pet a girl could possibly have, especially when it was time for his weekly bath. This Saturday just happened to be one of those days, unfortunately, and he had responded to the sound of the running water by darting out of the dormitory and getting himself lost.
"'No, mum; I want a cat,'" she muttered to herself as she checked for Gideon under a chair. "Brilliant idea, Charlotte; just brilliant...damn it, I feel ridiculous!" If one of her fellow Ravenclaws were to walk in on her in the midst of her desperate search for her cat, she knew she would just die of embarrassment. What was worse was, she'd checked anywhere and the cat wasn't anywhere to be found. If he'd gone past the common room and she had to go look for him, Charlotte could be sure that she was going to get a whole lot of strange looks, and even more snide comments (oh, how she hated Slytherins...stuck-up, ignorant little gits...). It was absolutely mortifying to admit to having no idea where your cat was - even more so to admit that it was because you insisted upon bathing it even though you caught it cleaning itself with its tongue pretty much every time you saw it...not that that was often, of course. The only times Charlotte ever saw Gideon, sly little thing, were at morning and at night, when she fed him.
"Should've gotten an owl..." Charlotte mumbled, cursing in Gaelic when she stubbed her toe on the edge of the fireplace. She made a mental note not to ever let her children bring a cat to Hogwarts.
[/blockquote]
