WYMAN,alice

ALICE MNEME WYMAN

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INTRODUCTIONS

FULL NAME: Alice Mneme Wyman

NICKNAMES: Chub-tub, Big Bertha, Thunder Thighs, Chunky Monkey

AGE: Sixteen

ALLEGIANCE: Order of the Phoenix

PROFESSION OR YEAR GROUP: Sixth Year




SKIN DEEP

DESIRED PB: Carey Mulligan

HEIGHT: Five Foot, Seven Inches

KEY FEATURES: Dimples, stubby fingers, pierced ears.

DESCRIPTION: Alice is no longer the fat girl she has been for most of Hogwarts. Puberty has finally evened out her proportions and her predilection for running has helped slim the extra baggage. Her face has finally lost most of the baby fat, softening her round cheeks and shaping her jawline. She's still not keen on her hips and thighs, yearning for a more petite frame, but at least it is muscle, not fat, that's packed onto her pear shape.

Neither exceptionally pretty nor hideous, Alice has a average face. Her cheeks dimple when she smiles and her nose crinkles when she's focused. Her eyes are honey brown and warm. Alice has long, mousy brown hair that she wears to straight and out of her face.

Her hands are quite small, and her nails are normally chewed blunt. She has a few scars from herbology, and she avoids coloured varnish like the plague.

Alice's fashion is decidedly wizard in nature. Peasant blouses, skirts, dresses, and dragon skin boots are common mainstays in her wardrobe. She considers pants a bit too muggle for her tastes, and dons robes as one might a jacket,


PERSONALITY

LIKES:
`Droobles Best Blowing Gum
`The Caerphilly Catapults
`Gardening
`Tea
`Running
`Lazy mornings in bed
`The Wizarding Wireless Network-- Alice especially enjoys the radio drama On the Beat, a buddy cop drama about the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's Patrol squad.
`Family

DISLIKES:
`Blood elitism; it's a bunch of rubbish, but Alice knows better than to publicly voice her opinions.
`Shepherd's Pie
`Potions
`Cooking
`Running
`Puddlemere United
`Purple
`Floo Powder

STRENGTHS:
`Dueling
`Transfiguration
`Herbology
`Creative use of magic
`Relatively book smart and well rounded. She's not the next Morgana, but she's not an idiot.
`Work Ethic

WEAKNESSES:
`Potions. She's dead awful. Alice has to work about three times as hard as other students to keep up.
`Stubborn
`Organisation. She's a bit sloppy with her things.
`Cooking
`Large crowds
`Confidence issues. She's working on that.

BOGGART: Being completely lonely. Even in her worst years at Hogwarts, Alice has always had someone who has loved her dearly. She is extremely close to family and her precious few friends and would be devastated without them.

PATRONUS: Alice's patronus is slowly revealing itself to be a Swan. Alice identifies very strongly with the transformation from cygnet to swan. She reveres the fidelity, ferocity, and devotion of their kind.

Alice's happiest moments are summers in Wales, playing with her younger brother and their adventures with the families garden gnomes. She thinks fondly on helping her mum in the garden and listening to her father tell her stories.

DESCRIPTION:
Alice is a work in progress, as most people are at sixteen. Unsure about herself and the world she's entering, she is trying desperately to find her place. Unlike many in her house, Alice is convinced she was sorted incorrectly. A duffer like her should be in Hufflepuff, out of sight and out of mind. For many years, she's resented her sorting and wanted to have a few words with that bloody hat.

Shy, but not asocial, Alice is a bit wary around new faces. Her relentless teasing has finally started to thicken her skin, and though quiet, she's beginning to carry herself with a bit more dignity. She tends to stay in the background, very much as a protective measure. Alice is a very sensitive person and despite being well-versed with human nastiness, believes very strongly in the goodness of the human condition. Her time on the sidelines has allowed her to focus on her schoolwork, and this drive coupled with her natural smarts has given her rather fantastic marks. She's even scraped by into NEWTS potions, thanks to many late night study sessions and an almost fanatical desire to become an Auror.

Alice has a strong sense of right and wrong, and a desire to protect the weak. Her father, a lifelong Patrol Officer and now Head of the Patrol Unit, has instilled a very strong respect for duty in his daughter. Alice believes criminals should be brought to justice and have a fair day in court. The darkening world has only motivated her further to join the fight. Alice, rather understandably, empathizes with the downtrodden and is determined to use her ability to protect and serve.

Alice is a startlingly warm and friendly person if you manage to get closer than an arm's length. She is fiercely loyal and the sort of friend who would drop everything at two in the morning to bail your arse out of trouble. She's strikingly maternal, and provides a good shoulder to cry upon and a willing ear. She is very willing to forgive any offences done to her, but the story is quite different if you harm her friends. Her temper has a slow burn and is not a pretty thing to witness.

HISTORY

FATHER: Mitchell Wyman - Fifty Five - Retired Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol

MOTHER: Chloe Prewett-Wyman - Fifty- Former Obliviator, Stay-at-home-mum

BROTHER(S): Simon Wyman - Thirteen - Hufflepuff Third Year

SISTER(S): N/A

OTHER: Molly, Gideon, and Fabian are her first cousins.

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOMETOWN: Caerphilly, Wales

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Hogwarts during the school year, the family house, Glan Tywyn Hall, during holidays.

BIOGRAPHY:
Alice grew up near Caerphilly, Wales, in a remote wizarding village. Her father's house, Glan Tywyn Hall, was situated on a sprawling farm with a flock of Aethonan that like to visit their fields. She was born to a family of respectable wizarding stock and a life of comfort. Her father's family had made a small fortune breeding winged horses and her mum pulled a considerable paycheck as an Obliviator.

Alice's mum quit work when she was born to focus on tending the house and raising her daughter. Alice had a simple and lovely childhood, improved fantastically when her younger brother, Simon, was born. As soon as he was able, he joined her on her childhood adventures. They got lost in the woods and were perpetually at war with the local pixie population. Alice had a great fondness for the gnomes in the garden and tried very valiantly to secure a gnome baby of her own to raise. Her mum eventually convinced her that the baby gnomes would rather be with their own mums. The village had very few children, and so Alice grew accustomed to playing elaborate games of make believe by herself. Still, her life was good. Her father worked long hours as a Beat Officer for the Patrol, but he would always come straight home to play with his children. Her nights usually ended with her father reading her stories of magical heroes and justice and honor.

Hogwarts was a bit of a slap in the face for Alice. She was sorted into Gryffindor and felt it was a bit of a mistake. Chubby and awkward, she was the perfect target for teasing. Alice withdrew and began to focus on her studies as a means for escape. This certainly didn't help the teasing, and her early years were filled with tearful diaries and a heaping dose of teen angst.

Fifth year was her turning point. During career interviews, she admitted to Professor McGonagall that she desperately wanted to be an Auror. Her Potions grades were dismal, to say the least, and her weight would certainly disqualify her alone. McGonagall suggested she look into other career paths, and that sparked her inner fire. Alice spent much of her fifth year running in the remotest parts of the grounds, reciting potions laws and recipes. She spent very little time sleeping, and managed to pass potions with an A.

Her running habit, diet, and puberty managed to slim her down about fifty pounds by the time sixth year rolled around. Alice is almost unrecognizable, and rather self-conscious of the change.

SAMPLE POST:
(Auror!Alice)

It had started without warning. Alice remembered how she'd looked out the window in the middle of paperwork, and saw a flicker of something on the horizon. She had resumed poring over Lestrange tax-records before the strangeness of the sight had sunk in. Alice would forever remember the way her stomach dropped as she bolted to the window. There she had stood, mouth opened into a wordless "o". Her fingers shook as they touched the glass.

The skyline was burning red.

Alice had shuddered, turned, and grabbed her cloak from her upended chair. And she had begun to run. Through every corner of the Department, rousing tired Aurors and Patrol Men, half screaming for them to move because London was burning. Sturgis had gaped at her until her hysterics clicked. He'd grabbed her arm and then they were running, running, running to escape the Ministry, wands aloft. And Alice was trying not to scream, because she needed her breath to fight, but London was burning.

When they had reached the flames , Alice feared that she might never be cold again. The heat was cruel, surrounding her, filling every pore in her skin with fire. She wondered if she would ever un-feel the touch of that furnace. For a moment, they had stared at the wall of flames, terrible and vast, that consumed the city.

Sturgis had said something frail and pithy, but Alice could only hear the burning. Could only hear the screams as London burned.

Alice didn't remember when they sent for the Order. One of them had fired off a patronus into the night as they attempted to quell the fire. It wasn't fiend fyre, the Ministry would have been consumed if it had been, but it was magic, and more than simple flames from a wandtip. On they had struggled against the flames licking up the sides of homes, desperate to contain them. Their wandwork had been so pitifully small, and the flames had been everywhere, licking at their ankles, eating at their protective charms. There had been no stopping the heat. No charm had been unable to cool their skin from the onslaught.

At some point, reinforcements had arrived. A variety of Order Members and Aurors roused from their beds. Alice remembered how Moody had taken her side, wild eyes squinting into the flames as he had lent his wand. But she had only had eyes for the burning orphanage. Aguamenti and glacius and every water spell they knew barely made dents in the flames. But a fresh half dozen wands had eventually stopped the blaze, and she had thought they had saved the brick home.

And then the building had collapsed on itself, and Alice couldn't stop screaming. She remembered sprinting for the wreckage and cruel, thick arms holding her back, voices shouting in her ears to stop, they're done for, there's still so much to do-!

It had lasted all night. Any time they stopped the flames, more sprang up elsewhere. They had encountered a small band of Death Eaters along the way, and Alice couldn't remember much of the duel (she would later find out she spent most of it unconscious after taking several stunners to the chest). Someone, one of the McKinnons, had revived her after the battle, because more of London was aflame and they needed every able wand.

That night had dragged on for what felt like a lifetime. And then, as suddenly as it had started, it had stopped. The dawn grayed the sky. And London was no longer burning.


Five days had passed. The Obliviators had worked three days straight to calm the muggle community, planting the story of a massive gas rupture and subsequent fire. They erased surviving memories of men and women with sticks dousing the flames, replacing them with bright red fire engines and hoses. The Accidental Magic Reversal Squad worked in secret alongside rebuilding muggles, and within days, life at the Ministry began to return to normal. All was well.

As if five days ago, there had been no fire at all.

"Alice. Are you in?" A voice. Alice jumped, looking into the bright eyes of Devon Dawlish, a rather more senior Auror. He was in her cubicle, leaning against her nightmare of a desk, watching her. Alice quickly took stock of herself. She crushed her cigarette in her ash tray, and sat up straight. Her shaking hands went to her lap. She smiled pleasantly at Dawlish.

"Yes. Hello. What is it?"
"Your report, from the fire. It's late." He spoke of the fire so casually, as if it had simply been a rainy night. Devon had been on holiday for the nightmare in Majorca, and Alice tried to forgive his ignorance.

But she couldn't unknown that awful spice of seared flesh and stone. No matter how many times she washed her hair, she couldn't seem to escape that monstrous smell of death. She had binned the clothes and boots she had worn that night, hating how they stank up her flat.

"Are you well, Alice?" Dawlish interrupted her thoughts, a hand on her shoulder. Alice jumped, swallowed, and spoke in a very small voice,
"No, I don't think I am."

Dawlish, for all his poor taste, was a good man. He sent her home with a firm smile, dropping her cloak on her shoulders and squeezing them in a fatherly sort of way. Alice walked numbly through the office. It seemed impossible that life should be so normal today. Vance was chatting with Bones about having to see his daughter off on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow. Moody was chewing a young witch out about constant vigilance. Wizards gossiped in the lift. There was no somberness in the Atrium, only busy Ministry workers heading home for the night.

Alice wasn't sure how she ended up in the Leaky Cauldron. Perhaps it was the noise that drew her in, the warmth of the fire, so unlike the nightmare last week. She just knew she couldn't go home, couldn't bear to be alone in the quiet.
She perched herself on a stool at the bar. Her black cloak was folded and sat haphazardly on the floor by her feet. Her robes joined them in a graceless heap. Her boat neck, black and white striped dress was a touch dated, but no less flattering. Grey tights hugged her legs, disappearing into black dragon skin knee high boots. Her hair, tousled by the evening wind, hung down her back.

Alice bent over awkwardly, hunting for a pack of cigarettes in her robes. Victorious, she lit one with her wand. The smooth pull of nicotine set every nerve alight, soothing and familiar. Flagging down the barman, she was rewarded with a shot of fire whiskey.

Shifting her cigarette, she grasped the pale glass with a small hand, raising it wordlessly to the ceiling. Alice threw back the shot, forcing herself to swallow, not to cough nor choke, hating how it burned all the way down.

OOC:

YOUR NAME: Ed Taco

RP EXPERIENCE: I've been writing and roleplaying for over ten years.
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