Post by FRANK THEODORE LONGBOTTOM on May 26, 2012 5:20:28 GMT
frank theodore longbottom
[/i], which he knows is the favourite of the muggle's fictional character, sherlock holmes. oddly enough, it's also his granfather's favoured one, and his.
full name: frank perion theodore longbottom
age: seventeen
year: 6th
birthday: twenty-fourth, september
blood line: pureblood
occupation: student
former / house: gryffindor
he quickly takes out the object, places a few tobacco leaves inside, and whipping out his wand, taps the pipe, which immediately heats up. he sighs in blissful nostalgia as he breathes in. he suddenly chokes as a clearing throat sounds behind him, to which he quickly rounds to, finding a very feminine, very curvy lady in glasses, looking at him with stern eyes. she gestures for him to take a seat on the sofa in front of her, which he grins at-- holding on the pipe, he walks quickly towards his now-desired seat, sliding himself from the back and gently on the seats, nodding in greeting. "very nice, mr. longbottom." he tilts his head in playful questioning, taking another breathing into the pipe. "dear lady, you know my name. i think it's only fitting that i know yours. don't you?" he plays for a teasing grin, placing his arm on along the top of the seat, happily smoking the pipe. she's not very happy, which tells him to relax and just drown at the sight of her full lips and sapphire eyes. she was a brunette, which was all the more perfect.
"recklessly hitting on any woman's company, check." she looks down to the clipboard on her lap, which screws his face in a confused expression. "i'm sorry, i thought i was making conversa--" "has an impulsive need to swipe anything that doesn't belong to him, also check." he stayed quiet for a moment, feeling rather attacked. was he missing something here? "your father did mention that you would find your own way over here, and he was right. you cannot stand to be still, can you, frank?" now she was asking, with a slight smile of tease, thinking that she's gained the upper hand. "so.. my old man thinks he can read me now, huh? what a bugger.." silence reigns, only to be scratched by the quill writing on her parchment. in any case, this was clearly set-up already. "the pipe called me. i wasn't going to deny itself from me," he remarks with a smug shrug, narrowing his eyes at the real stature of the woman before him. although clearly new to her job, she seems to have already picked up the usual atmosphere of which, he thought, the ministry was drowning in. this comes to much of his disappointment-- she is really good to look at.
"so, what now? am i supposed to open myself vulnerable to you, talk about the troubles of my life--" "yes, actually." he purses his lips at how rational her tone has gotten, to which he responds by placing himself on a lying position on the sofa, an arm folded for his hand to support the back of his head, while the other holds on to the pipe. "i'd hate to disappoint you, there, miss. i'm not much for story telling, since my life holds no interest for your knowing." he turns his face towards her, an apologetic smile on his face. "i'm boring, see." he has never wanted to talk about his family or his past, and doesn't find any joy in passing his depressing past to others' ears. his father, being the senior secretary of the prime minister, who held a considerable amount of power and popularity among the wizarding commuity, had not been able to gain any leads on who or why his son's mother was found dead, right on their doorstep.
it has been eleven years, and he can still see the peaceful face of his mother, cold, pale, and still on their doorstep. thankfully, his grandfather from his father's side had been there, and gathered him in his company iniside the study, where he can still remember seeing his grandfather's shaky hands as he smoked non-stopped.
if this woman had the courage to resurface the misery of his past, then all he'll give in return is nothing but walls.
"mr. longbottom did say that you would get indirectly emotional when even just touching on the surface of your past." he looks to her with furrowed brows, unable to take in the faint, understanding smile on her face. immediately, he perks up-- she looks better with that. shrugging, he takes another smoke of the pipe. "did he?" she nods, continuing, "pleasant in company, irresistibly charming among his female throng, conducive to steer a conversation or any given topic with ease.." she squints, and adjusts her glasses. "it is in my understanding that your choice of friends is not closely-knitted, in a sense that each of your close friends belong in different houses. am i correct in this comprehension, then?" he smirks at this, nodding slightly. "most of them are older." he shrugs. "i'm not at all picky; there's this urge in me that just likes to make strong pacts and relationships. and besides, ravenclaws are fun to be around, because most of them are so seriously submerged in their reputation for being the smart-alecks, and so therefore susceptible to off-handed jokes and teasing. hufflepuffs are eternally permissive, which means i can get away with just about anything. slytherins are just arrogant bastards, judging others by their bloodline, but they're arrogance is what makes them so great, 'cause they don't give sh-- i mean, crap to anything anyone thinks of them. and gryffindors, well," he holds his pipe as he gestures to himself, grin widening.
"your father says that you are extremely close with his father, frank senior. says he's the one who influenced you into pipe-smoking. i presume this is true as well?" he cannot but smirk at the statemet. "ambidexterous, seemingly omnipotent in anything he can get his hands on, but occasionally lacks the drive to indulge in the company of books and words that expound the mind into greater things. a socialite through and through, he even goes out of his way to spend time in the muggle world during most of his summer. this has resulted for his influenced dress code.." to this, he merely smiles at her raised eyebrows. he's expected for it, since that's what everyone does when he answers their question on what he's been up to during the holidays. besides, he likes the old-fashioned look, what with the vests and pocket watches and suits that make dress robes look immortally feminine. not that he's complaining, of course-- he has just taken a great interest in the muggle's dress code.
she curtly nods, not knowing what to say to that. "very well.. receives astounding commendation in herbology, arithmancy and charms. uhh.. has a habit of swimming in the black lake during early morning, in attempts to greet the giant squid that resides therein?" he remains silent, but cannot help the small chuckle elicit from through his lips. "impulsive, good-hearted, has a way with words? his smile as his trademark, he doesn't take no for an answer.." he sits up in response, a devilish-grin plastered on his face. he places the pipe on the sofa, and stands as he points his wand towards the ancient-looking record player seating on the cabinet not far from them.
"..surprisingly astute in dancing.." he walks over as her last words are hushed, smirking as he spots the blush creep on her cheeks. he reached out his hand, feeling fantastic at how the tables have turned. but, there was still just one problem. "i won't take no for an answer, miss."
she's not alice.
[/color] [/size][/ul]
alias: she-who-must-not-be-named
gender: that-which-cannot-be-told
rp sample: which-i-cannot! whelp! :>
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