Post by JAMES NORRINGTON on Aug 21, 2010 7:17:27 GMT -5
JAMES NORRINGTON
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࿂
[/b]: James
SURNAME: Norrington
ALIAS: N/A
TITLE: Captain (since he is in command of a ship) or Sir
AGE: Thirty-two
AFFILIATION: East India Trading Company
BRANDED?: N/A
RANK: Admiral (only recognized by the EITC)
SHIP: HMS Dauntless
࿂ DESCRIBE YESELF![/color]
James stands at 6'2"--a favorable height. As such, his broad-shouldered frame is stretched a little thin, and he weighs approximately one hundred and seventy-three pounds. James's skin is peachy-pale, but when flustered, it has been known to turn an unattractive beet red color. His irises boast a rare and mesmerizing emerald green, and are accompanied by golden flecks, which give off a noticeable shine when exposed to sunlight. Beneath that infamous white wig of his lies a properly trimmed head of dark brown hair. Hypothetically, if he were to grow it out, its texture would be quite thick and wavy.
James dresses rather stiffly, as his British heritage and societal standing would have it. Everything is always in its place. Since he hails from a wealthy family--his father Lawrence was an admiral in the Royal Navy--he can afford the very best. However, during the period of time in which James had resigned his commission from the navy after failing to catch notorious pirate Captain Jack Sparrow, his style... Well, it left much to be desired. He appeared as any other common drunkard: shabby, disheveled, and utterly miserable. His old commodore’s uniform was tattered, his wig frayed, and he was completely covered in dirt, mud, and other unspeakable things. But now that Cutler Beckett’s basically given him his "life" back and his brief respite is over, he has returned to his old grooming habits as if he’d never left them.
࿂ WHAT GIVES YE PLEASURE?
Like/description. Like/description. Like/description. Like/description. Like/description.
࿂ WHAT MAKES YE ANGRY?[/color]
First off: pirates. James charged himself with the task of ridding the brutish, fiendish scoundrels from the seas, and he intends to see it through. It doesn't matter that a pirate once saved his life, or that a pirate rescued Miss Swann from a watery grave. One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness. More specifically, Captain Jack Sparrow is the pirate who angers James the most. The scalawag played a pivotal role in ruining Norrington's career--at least, in the admiral's opinion. James's patience with Sparrow's antics is wearing thin. After all, the arduousness of chasing the pirate across the Caribbean Sea and beyond would, after a time, cause most men to turn tail and sail back to the port from whence they came, defeated. Dishonesty is not something James is too fond of, either. It detracts so severely from a person's honor, value, and merit. If James himself encounters a situation in which he is forced to conceal the truth, he would surely, deeply regret having to do so.
࿂ WHAT DO YE HIDE?[/color]
James has a habit of concealing his frustration and contempt for Jack Sparrow, especially whilst in his presence. However, his facial expressions tend to give him away. This next one isn't a secret, but it isn't a well-known fact, either: as a boy, his life was saved by a pirate. Not just any pirate, though: Captain Teague, Jack Sparrow's father. You see, James had accompanied his father, Admiral Lawrence Norrington, on a mission to pursue Teague. In the midst of a chaotic battle, young James was knocked overboard and into the water. Teague saved him, and while Lawrence was grateful that his son hadn't drowned, he was humiliated that his rescuer was a pirate. He said he would rather James Norrington die than be rescued by a pirate.
࿂ WHAT SKILLS DO YE POSSESS?[/color]
Strength/description. Strength/description.
Weakness/description. Weakness/description.
James is a swordsman of legendary repute, the equal of Hector Barbossa, surpassed only by William Turner. He can wield practically any sword or cutlass with delicacy and deadly precision. James is also an excellent marksman, and carries a pistol with him at all times.
࿂ HOW DO YE ACT?[/color]
Determined/description. Sacrificial/description. Brave/description. Despite his past mistakes, James is, on the whole, an honorable man. Honest/description. Dedicated to the law/description.
James is rather blinded by ambition. He tends to forsake his better judgment in favor of attaining his goals, although he is not as corrupt or power-hungry as Lord Beckett. He's slightly awkward around women, a trait which resides perhaps in one of the more minor aspects of his personality. In short, it really isn't that big of a deal, and it only crops up whilst in the presence of very special women. Ever since Jack Sparrow escaped his grasp, James has beome especially bitter. While not normally the type to hold a grudge, he has made an exception for Sparrow. Unfortunately, James has a tendency to be gullible, or assume too much of a person or situation. (With the gracious exception of Sparrow, or anyone else who's crossed him too many times, thus proving that they cannot be trusted.) Insecure/description.
࿂ WOULD YE BE MISSED?[/color]
FIRST PERSON. DESCRIBE THE RELATIONSHIP WITH PARENTS AND SIBLINGS. ALSO LOVE LIFE, FRIENDSHIPS, ETC... DO NOT USE LIST FORMAT PLZ.
࿂ YER STORY![/color]
FIRST PERSON. AT LEAST TWO GOOD PARAGRAPHS ABOUT YOUR CHARACTERS PAST. WHERE THEY WERE BORN AND RAISED, ANY IMPORTANT EVENTS THAT OCCURRED AND ALL THAT FUN STUFF.
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SIXTEEN ࿂ JACK DAVENPORT ࿂ FOUR YEARS
CHARLOTTE/CHAR
CHARLOTTE/CHAR
RP SAMPLE. <3
She leaned heavily against the cracked, gray stone of the pillar as a wave of tiredness washed over her. It had to be nearing midnight. How many regulations have I violated now, twenty? Kiara chuckled, a bit more loudly than she had intended, assuming she was the only one out of doors after hours. Since when had school rules ever come into conflict with her intentions? Since when had any rules ever come into conflict with her intentions?
She’d snuck out of the common room a half hour before. It was a fairly simple feat to perform, much less get away with. Kiara hadn’t even bothered using magic to aid her. All those idiots can’t hear over their own snoring, anyhow. The problem was the journey up. Occasionally, one or two faculty members would patrol the labyrinth of corridors late at night, making sure there weren’t any students, regardless of house or year, attempting exactly what Kiara had done for the past week.
Kiara loved the rush of adrenaline she always received after committing a transgression such as that. The sudden increase in heartbeat was her favorite part. She relished it less often, though, since she had been experiencing it more frequently as of late. It didn’t always feel as perfect as she expected, however. Her latenight excursions were becoming less and less enjoyable. Sometimes she would argue with herself, urging herself to stay in bed. Kiara wouldn’t be able to get any sleep, of course. She hadn’t slept regularly in at least two months. It was almost as though she was searching for something. As if something were compelling her to sit in the courtyard and stare at the stars until daybreak. Something she hadn’t found. Each time she thought she’d moved that much closer to finding out what she lacked, or what was amiss with her own mind, she drew a blank. But tonight was destined to be different.
Her memory immediately flashed back to that summer, the summer of 2021, as it did every night. It was Scotland, mid-June, and rainy. Her father, Gregory Goyle, was to host the annual ball that most pureblood families attended each year. To say Kiara was looking forward to it would have been an understatement. It was to be the first time that the Goyles would host their summer estate to the event, at least while Kiara was alive. (The Malfoys hosted it more often that not.) Her cousin wouldn’t stop sending her owls, practically cross-examining her to obtain a copy of the guest list. She was invited, of course, along with around five hundred or so others.
She vividly remembered the day her mother had dragged Kiara and her sister to Diagon Alley for dress shopping. They were held up for four hours browsing all sorts of patterns and materials, at exactly six different boutiques. Kiara had decided on a foot-length, forest green, empire waist gown within the first hour.
The evening before the ball was almost as hectic as the ball itself. Pansy, her mother, had unspokenly asserted herself as the overseer of every component of the ball’s preparation, and was rather undecided on a number of things. First it was the place settings, then the music selection, the colors, her hair...
While her mother was busy worrying herself sick, Kiara had effortlessly located the aforementioned guest list. Out of pure curiosity (and minor boredom), she decided to look it over herself, and discovered that it was not ordered alphabetically, much to her delight. She had the notion that she could somehow alter it to exclude anyone who displeased her at Hogwarts. By the time she reached the seventh page, she had already casually removed four names: Atherton, de Leveque, Smith, and Poole. She was just about to turn the page, and continue her surname hunt when something at the bottom of the page caught her eye. A name had been scribbled in ink. It looked like her father’s sloppy handwriting, and obviously last-minute, as though it’d slipped everyone’s minds. Fancy Dad forgetting to add someone important. It took Kiara a few seconds to decipher the otherwise illegible chicken scratch. When she had, both her eyebrows instantly shot up. Darcy, Othello, it read.
Over a quarter of the invited families arrived at the Goyle estate ahead of schedule, sending Pansy into a frenzy of massive proportions. She had sent Kiara back to her suite, reminding her to return in the following hour to greet the on-time guests.
The hour passed quickly, and Kiara promptly returned to the main entrance to receive everyone. Her hair was swept behind her ears and fastened at the back, while her bangs were added into the bulk of her dark brown locks, which disguised them flawlessly. She boasted a pair of elaborate, silver earrings given to her by her grandmother, and a silver necklace appropriately shaped like a snake. Several people appeared to find it hard to take their eyes off the sixteen-year-old.
As the guests filed in, Kiara spotted Othello Darcy in the procession–after all, he was pretty hard to miss. She nodded and smiled, as she had done with every other person, but the difference was that her eyes trailed after him.
Dinner was a bit uncomfortable, to say the least. Her father Gregory headed one end of the table, and a larger end of the conversation. Kiara mentally rolled her eyes in his general direction throughout the meal. Fortunately, someone had the presence of mind to change the subject towards the end of the fourth course.
The main event had of course been the ball, and what an extravaganza it was. Despite her mother’s sour mood, Pansy had remarkably outdone herself. Everything was as close to perfect as Kiara had seen in her life. She danced for half the night, chatting and enjoying herself, all while finding time to lapse into her old habit of watching, or rather, observing people.
After a particularly long and tiring waltz, Kiara had exited the ballroom in search of more interesting pursuits. But not before swiping one of her father’s bottles of fine wine. She knew exactly where he stashed it–he wasn’t a very complex man to begin with. She eased it open, and began to pour the alcohol down her throat. And after she’d downed an eighth of the bottle, Kiara once again located Othello Darcy–whom she knew better as the Hogwarts potions master. She didn’t have a clue as to what possessed her to talk with him, alas she did.
She gave him a tour of the estate, highlighting everything from the endless rooms to the artifacts on display to the paintings of Goyle ancestors to her mother’s choice of drapery. It gave her something to do. And as she spoke to him, she began to think...
Kiara’s room was located on the third floor of the estate, past three spare rooms and a study. She discreetly entered the study and retrieved two more bottles of wine. Her father had obviously been there recently.
She’d ended up getting him drunk. She had gotten her potions professor drunk in her room, and quite frankly she didn’t give a damn. They continued to talk for a while longer, one thing led to another, and...
Kiara did not regret it. It was the best feeling she had ever experienced in the entirety of her existence. Truth be told, she hadn’t wanted it to end there. She was deeply infatuated with the professor, and from that night on, she vowed to continue her pursuit of him. Even if he couldn’t exactly remember anything.
She was beginning to contemplate returning to the Slytherin common room and attempting to get some shut-eye when she paused, peeking out from behind the stone pillar. And there, on bench, was Othello.
He doesn’t remember, Kiara told herself. The only thing you’ll get out of this is a detention. But her emotions got the better of her.
She broke cover, and descended the short steps leading into the main courtyard, headed straight for Professor Darcy. She slowed her rapid pace as she neared the bench, shivering slightly as she adjusted herself to the cold air. ”Hello,” she began, half-expecting to be interrupted mid-sentence. ”May I sit down, Professor?”
