Post by Luciana Greengrass on Nov 23, 2012 5:38:18 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 380px; background-image:URL(http://www.pixeden.com/media/k2/galleries/165/001-subtle-light-pattern-background-texture-vol5.jpg) ; border-left: 10px solid #1C161E; border-right: 10px solid #1C161E;] LUCIANA M. GREENGRASS  full name: Luciana Mae Greengrass canon or original: Canon age: 17 year: Seventh house: Slytherin blood: Pure wand: Eleven inches, dragon heart string, rosewood patronus: Peacock boggart: Getting old erised: She sees herself forever young and beautiful, able to have fun and do as she wants without any concerns or things holding her back. birth place: London, England ------------------------------------------------- When someone thinks of an rich pureblood girl who's all about blood supremacy, one would probably think about some uptight girl with dresses and teapots and ribbons who just wants to get married to a nice pureblood husband and produce an heir. Which is about as from Luciana Greengrass as it gets. Being the oldest of three siblings, Lucy loved to tease and patronize her brother and sister, even though they were all very close in age. Growing up she was pretty close to her sister but when her sister was sorted into Ravenclaw rather than Slytherin like the rest of the family Lucy distanced herself from her more. She teased her for being a nerd but she was rather disappointed when her favorite sibling didn't get into the same house as her. As they got older the disappointment and teasing turned into spiting or ignoring her sister's very existence and becoming closer to their little brother. As a little girl Lucy was much more tame and girly, content to sit at formal dinner parties and have flawless manners, she even allowed people to call her by her full first name without threatening to cut them. But as she got older Lucy found herself getting more restless. She wanted to go out all the time and any parties that she wanted to go to had better be ragers and not the stuffy pureblood kind. Social drinking and occasionally smoking weren't things that she was not a stranger to. She's incredibly vain and self-centered and always has been, though it's strengthened throughout the years. Her greatest fear is getting old, she'd rather stay young and party. She adores the male gender, having a reputation of being somewhat of a tramp, but settling down and having kids aren't things she wants anytime soon. Why ruin her body with bearing a child? Lucy isn't really the most caring and maternal person anyways. Despite being rather wild and a party girl, Lucy definitely does belong in Slytherin. She feels nothing but contempt for muggles and mudbloods and she doesn't even like to talk to half bloods unless she has to. She has a sort of Queen Bee personality, she's very catty and likes to be in charge, she can also be very manipulative and conniving and is always trying to see what sort of personal gain she can get from a situation before doing anything. She'd rather get other people to do the dirty work for her, or at least frame someone, rather than risk her own neck and she has no problems at all with throwing someone under the bus if it means saving herself. As long as someone continues to be of use to her, entertaining, or hasn't given her any reason to toss them aside, she's quite devoted. But if she doesn't like someone she will work tirelessly to make their life hell, usually by spreading some sort of nasty rumor about them. Lucy can also be rather violent as well and the quickest way to see that is by calling her Luciana. |
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your alias: Danielle
a roleplay sample:
Lucy wasn’t having the best morning. First of all, she wasn’t a morning person even on a good day. But here it was, Saturday morning and she’d forgotten to turn off the alarm clock, there was blinding light streaming in through the windows and she may or may not have been incredibly drunk the night before. What? It was a Friday! What did she think she was going to do all evening, sit around by the fire and read like a loser Ravenclaw? Do charity work like one of those stupid Hufflepuffs? Oh! Or better yet how about be a Gryffindor and just sit around all day and boast about how awesome and brave they were? Yeah, no thanks. She was Lucy friggin’ Greengrass and she actually had a life. Shocking right? It seemed as though everybody in Hogwarts were totally boring. What was the point in acting grown up when you were still young and in school?
Sure, going out to party all the time rather than studying for NEWTs wasn’t exactly the most mature thing to do, but hey, when did she ever claim to be mature? She was seventeen, so by Wizarding law, yes, she was an adult. But a young adult. And the whole point of being young was to go out and do stupid stuff so when you were old and supposed to be serious and taking care of kids or working you wouldn’t feel the need to do that because you’d already gotten it out of your system. Of course, if Lucy had it her way she wouldn’t ever get old. Who wanted to get old? Getting those wrinkles on your face and grey hairs? Pass. She liked having her pretty face void of all signs of age and her curly blonde hair didn’t need to have silver in it. Plus, when you were old people expected you to get a job and raise families. Well considering she was rich and it wouldn’t be too difficult to get a rich PUREBLOOD husband, after all just look at her, working wasn’t necessary. But who wanted to have a bunch of snot nosed brats clinging onto your leg and crying for your attention and getting whatever it was that made their fingers so sticky all over your nice clothes? Bravo to her mother for managing to live through Lucy and her brother and sister. Something that Lucy mentally promised herself that she’d never do.
Sitting up very slowly, the blonde immediately regretted doing so. “Ow,” she moaned, clutching her head. Yup, that hurt. Oh fire whiskey, what a cruel mistress you are. That was her only problem with drinking. You felt so good while you were doing it and then when morning came you felt like hell. Or maybe she just went overboard when she drank, not everybody had hangovers this bad as far as she could tell. You’ll build up tolerance, they say. How dare they all lie to her like that. One day they were going to just wake up at the bottom of the Black Lake with a note stuck to their chest saying “Oh don’t worry, you’ll build up tolerance to it.” Ha, that was a good thought. Running her fingers through her blonde curls, Lucy cringed as one of the other girls opened the door into the dormitory. “You don’t have to slam it open,” she complained, turning slowly to see who it was.
Sure, going out to party all the time rather than studying for NEWTs wasn’t exactly the most mature thing to do, but hey, when did she ever claim to be mature? She was seventeen, so by Wizarding law, yes, she was an adult. But a young adult. And the whole point of being young was to go out and do stupid stuff so when you were old and supposed to be serious and taking care of kids or working you wouldn’t feel the need to do that because you’d already gotten it out of your system. Of course, if Lucy had it her way she wouldn’t ever get old. Who wanted to get old? Getting those wrinkles on your face and grey hairs? Pass. She liked having her pretty face void of all signs of age and her curly blonde hair didn’t need to have silver in it. Plus, when you were old people expected you to get a job and raise families. Well considering she was rich and it wouldn’t be too difficult to get a rich PUREBLOOD husband, after all just look at her, working wasn’t necessary. But who wanted to have a bunch of snot nosed brats clinging onto your leg and crying for your attention and getting whatever it was that made their fingers so sticky all over your nice clothes? Bravo to her mother for managing to live through Lucy and her brother and sister. Something that Lucy mentally promised herself that she’d never do.
Sitting up very slowly, the blonde immediately regretted doing so. “Ow,” she moaned, clutching her head. Yup, that hurt. Oh fire whiskey, what a cruel mistress you are. That was her only problem with drinking. You felt so good while you were doing it and then when morning came you felt like hell. Or maybe she just went overboard when she drank, not everybody had hangovers this bad as far as she could tell. You’ll build up tolerance, they say. How dare they all lie to her like that. One day they were going to just wake up at the bottom of the Black Lake with a note stuck to their chest saying “Oh don’t worry, you’ll build up tolerance to it.” Ha, that was a good thought. Running her fingers through her blonde curls, Lucy cringed as one of the other girls opened the door into the dormitory. “You don’t have to slam it open,” she complained, turning slowly to see who it was.
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