Post by Brooklyn Surovy on May 21, 2006 15:58:49 GMT -5
Name: Brooklyn Olivia Surovy
Age: 17
Year: 7
Gender: Female
Parents: Tomas && Olivia Surovy
House Desired in order from least to greatest: Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw Hufflepuff
Family: Just her parents && her
Birth Place: Wiltshire, London
Personal History (1 paragraph+):
(Alrighty, let me start by saying that I suck at Histories. Please don't blame me for anything horribly sucky here. Not my fault. )
Brooklyn is queen of her castle. She and her parents live in Wiltshire, London, where they own a larger-than-life home, of which Brooklyn has every say in. She gets to order the help around, decide what everyone's eating, and how many pillows she wants each night. The only one that has more say than her is her father, whom Brooklyn respects more than anyone in the world.
She and her father have always had a better relationship than anyone she'd ever met before, this including her best friends. Her father got rich through illegal items, of which he didn't want to discuss with Brooklyn, and they certainly didn't hold back. Every night Brooklyn sleeps in emerald satin sheets, practically every bit of her room encrusted in Emeralds and Sapphires. Her mother, of course, wasn't neglected, but she wasn't exactly Tomas's wife anymore. She was more like Brooklyn's caretaker. Brooklyn didn't hate her mom, but that's all she saw in her. She just saw some lady who cared about her quite a bit. Brooklyn's father is rarely home, but when he is, he and Brooklyn spend quite the fair amount of quality time with each other.
Appearance (5 sentences+):
Brooklyn is EXTREMELY tall for her age and gender. Measuring up to a total of six feet, two inches, there is hardly a guy around that can match her height, which is most unfortunate for her personality. Her build is more than athletic. She loves every sport that anyone could come up with, and Lord knows that she'll play it 'til the day she dies. Her hair, au natural, is the perfect shade of blonde, always straight. The only trouble is it gets in her way more than it should. Her eyes, perfectly, shockingly ice blue enchant anyone who catches themselves staring for a bit too long. Some say it was a spell that the infamous Surovy created and performed herself, but no one knows for certain. Long arms supporting long fingers, this girl certainly looks like she was put through a stretcher. Of all her unique characteristics, she was most proud of the fact her chest wasn't suffocating her face, but she certainly had one.
Personality (5 sentences+):
A word that describes Brooklyn? Easy: S-L-U-T. She's a downright, straight up, completely forward very *friendly* person. Anything you ask of her that's remotely obscence, she'll ask the place and time. She has absolutely no problem with disrespecting herself and there is no way that anyone seems to mind taking advantage of her, either. More unfortunately for them, though, Brooklyn is like a thunderstorm; loud and never ceasing. You know when you've upset her; just about everyone does. She's cold and more than cruel and it takes more than brains and goods to actually get her heart. She's a lot more cunning and brilliant than she lets on. In fact, she wears the "blond" look quite well. It's an act, though, I assure you of that. She's extremely smart, but she's afraid to show it, simply because she doesn't want people assuming she's actually with "the crowd". If you act like you know a lot, you probably only know more than you should. That was her philosophy, and she was going to stick with it. What it had to do with why she concealed her actual knowledge amount was beyond anyone. Maybe she was more blond than she thought... Well, no matter what philsophy she goes by, one thing is sure, and that's the fact that Brooklyn Olivia Surovy is a slutty hypocrite.
Anything Else?: Nein
Pets: None
Wand: 13" Ebony, Grindylow Hair core
Broomstick: Firebolt 4 (Heh. Love my creativity?
)
Secret Word: Trials
Sample RP:
Now Ry was finally aware she wasn't the only one in this growing-warmer compartment. Ryley didn't mind the subtle heat, in fact, she quite liked it. She was the kind of person who self-conflicts. She loves being warm, but loves looking at snow. She loves thunderstorms, but loves to swim in the rain, which we all know you couldn't do in a thunderstorm, since you'd most likely be electricuted to death. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing to be so contrasting with yourself, it gave Ry more character. You never knew if you were about to say the right thing around her. You had to guess and hope she didn't rip your throat out for being too forward or too obnoxious.
Looking away from the window and the now-boring blurred trees, Ryley was glad that she wasn't forced to share this little seating area with someone she disliked. That would most certainly be murder in itself. Glancing down at the paper in Wyatt's hand, she bubbled inside with anger, the anger that only happened when you get insulted. It was disgusting how much the media seemed to revolve their stories around Death Eaters. Because of people like reporters, Ryley's parents didn't stand a chance on escaping the Ministry. Anywhere they went, they'd be seen and it would be all over. Ryley had gotten to a point where she didn't care anymore. She still wished her parents would be home, but she had set up an iron wall, internally, of course, against anyone or anything that dilludes her family. She knew she had a bad reputation for just being Bella Lestrange's daughter, but it wasn't something Ryley was ashamed of. Oh, no, she prided it. She would physically and verbally abuse anyone who down-talked her family, even if she didn't care about what was said about them. Another self-conflicting personality trait.
"It's ridiculous how those silly little reporters can do nothing more than pick at the lives of people involved in the Fall," Ryley spat, glaring at the paper. She always referred to the time when the Dark Lord was "defeated" as the Fall.
Was Wyatt actually enjoying the story he read? Surely not, for Ry saw his father there as well. Frowning, she glanced for another Rookwood in the paper. Not one in sight. Wyatt had never mentioned a mother, nor did Ryley ask. Questions about family never mentioned was a major regret on the interrogator's part. That went without saying. No one ever questioned Ryley about her parents -- at least, not people who befriended her. People who looked to annoy her and set her off always bothered her with petty questions, merely to see how aggrevated Ryley could get. Always worked, and Ryley had served many detentions to show it.
People had always told Ryley how much she resembled her mother, even prettier than her, at that. Ryley never ever saw it until just that moment. The picture in the paper looked nothing less than a picture of Ryley. Her father looked hardly related to Ry at all, yet she favored him slightly more. Bella was, of course, dark haired with heavy lids, the latter Ryley had never recieved. Her father's were light and thin, which is where Ryley's must have come from. Every other feature was the exact same, down to the sinister smirk and downright evil grin. Ryley liked this new discovery.
Pulling her feet up on her seat, she folded her arms across her knees and rested her head on her forearms, eyes still on the paper.
Sometimes Ryley had thought about going to Azkaban to see her parents. She doubted highly the Ministry would let her past the transportation, if she could find any, and the Dementors would surely give her a run. But nonetheless, the thought occurred, more frequently than ever now. Maids and family advised her to keep those thoughts to herself, but she couldn't help discussing such with her twin, William. Liam was always there for her. They were the best of friends until the end, no matter what. They had their differences, but they essentially got along fantastic. Ryley trusted him with everything, even her life.
Age: 17
Year: 7
Gender: Female
Parents: Tomas && Olivia Surovy
House Desired in order from least to greatest: Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw Hufflepuff
Family: Just her parents && her
Birth Place: Wiltshire, London
Personal History (1 paragraph+):
(Alrighty, let me start by saying that I suck at Histories. Please don't blame me for anything horribly sucky here. Not my fault. )
Brooklyn is queen of her castle. She and her parents live in Wiltshire, London, where they own a larger-than-life home, of which Brooklyn has every say in. She gets to order the help around, decide what everyone's eating, and how many pillows she wants each night. The only one that has more say than her is her father, whom Brooklyn respects more than anyone in the world.
She and her father have always had a better relationship than anyone she'd ever met before, this including her best friends. Her father got rich through illegal items, of which he didn't want to discuss with Brooklyn, and they certainly didn't hold back. Every night Brooklyn sleeps in emerald satin sheets, practically every bit of her room encrusted in Emeralds and Sapphires. Her mother, of course, wasn't neglected, but she wasn't exactly Tomas's wife anymore. She was more like Brooklyn's caretaker. Brooklyn didn't hate her mom, but that's all she saw in her. She just saw some lady who cared about her quite a bit. Brooklyn's father is rarely home, but when he is, he and Brooklyn spend quite the fair amount of quality time with each other.
Appearance (5 sentences+):
Brooklyn is EXTREMELY tall for her age and gender. Measuring up to a total of six feet, two inches, there is hardly a guy around that can match her height, which is most unfortunate for her personality. Her build is more than athletic. She loves every sport that anyone could come up with, and Lord knows that she'll play it 'til the day she dies. Her hair, au natural, is the perfect shade of blonde, always straight. The only trouble is it gets in her way more than it should. Her eyes, perfectly, shockingly ice blue enchant anyone who catches themselves staring for a bit too long. Some say it was a spell that the infamous Surovy created and performed herself, but no one knows for certain. Long arms supporting long fingers, this girl certainly looks like she was put through a stretcher. Of all her unique characteristics, she was most proud of the fact her chest wasn't suffocating her face, but she certainly had one.
Personality (5 sentences+):
A word that describes Brooklyn? Easy: S-L-U-T. She's a downright, straight up, completely forward very *friendly* person. Anything you ask of her that's remotely obscence, she'll ask the place and time. She has absolutely no problem with disrespecting herself and there is no way that anyone seems to mind taking advantage of her, either. More unfortunately for them, though, Brooklyn is like a thunderstorm; loud and never ceasing. You know when you've upset her; just about everyone does. She's cold and more than cruel and it takes more than brains and goods to actually get her heart. She's a lot more cunning and brilliant than she lets on. In fact, she wears the "blond" look quite well. It's an act, though, I assure you of that. She's extremely smart, but she's afraid to show it, simply because she doesn't want people assuming she's actually with "the crowd". If you act like you know a lot, you probably only know more than you should. That was her philosophy, and she was going to stick with it. What it had to do with why she concealed her actual knowledge amount was beyond anyone. Maybe she was more blond than she thought... Well, no matter what philsophy she goes by, one thing is sure, and that's the fact that Brooklyn Olivia Surovy is a slutty hypocrite.
Anything Else?: Nein
Pets: None
Wand: 13" Ebony, Grindylow Hair core
Broomstick: Firebolt 4 (Heh. Love my creativity?
)Secret Word: Trials
Sample RP:
Now Ry was finally aware she wasn't the only one in this growing-warmer compartment. Ryley didn't mind the subtle heat, in fact, she quite liked it. She was the kind of person who self-conflicts. She loves being warm, but loves looking at snow. She loves thunderstorms, but loves to swim in the rain, which we all know you couldn't do in a thunderstorm, since you'd most likely be electricuted to death. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing to be so contrasting with yourself, it gave Ry more character. You never knew if you were about to say the right thing around her. You had to guess and hope she didn't rip your throat out for being too forward or too obnoxious.
Looking away from the window and the now-boring blurred trees, Ryley was glad that she wasn't forced to share this little seating area with someone she disliked. That would most certainly be murder in itself. Glancing down at the paper in Wyatt's hand, she bubbled inside with anger, the anger that only happened when you get insulted. It was disgusting how much the media seemed to revolve their stories around Death Eaters. Because of people like reporters, Ryley's parents didn't stand a chance on escaping the Ministry. Anywhere they went, they'd be seen and it would be all over. Ryley had gotten to a point where she didn't care anymore. She still wished her parents would be home, but she had set up an iron wall, internally, of course, against anyone or anything that dilludes her family. She knew she had a bad reputation for just being Bella Lestrange's daughter, but it wasn't something Ryley was ashamed of. Oh, no, she prided it. She would physically and verbally abuse anyone who down-talked her family, even if she didn't care about what was said about them. Another self-conflicting personality trait.
"It's ridiculous how those silly little reporters can do nothing more than pick at the lives of people involved in the Fall," Ryley spat, glaring at the paper. She always referred to the time when the Dark Lord was "defeated" as the Fall.
Was Wyatt actually enjoying the story he read? Surely not, for Ry saw his father there as well. Frowning, she glanced for another Rookwood in the paper. Not one in sight. Wyatt had never mentioned a mother, nor did Ryley ask. Questions about family never mentioned was a major regret on the interrogator's part. That went without saying. No one ever questioned Ryley about her parents -- at least, not people who befriended her. People who looked to annoy her and set her off always bothered her with petty questions, merely to see how aggrevated Ryley could get. Always worked, and Ryley had served many detentions to show it.
People had always told Ryley how much she resembled her mother, even prettier than her, at that. Ryley never ever saw it until just that moment. The picture in the paper looked nothing less than a picture of Ryley. Her father looked hardly related to Ry at all, yet she favored him slightly more. Bella was, of course, dark haired with heavy lids, the latter Ryley had never recieved. Her father's were light and thin, which is where Ryley's must have come from. Every other feature was the exact same, down to the sinister smirk and downright evil grin. Ryley liked this new discovery.
Pulling her feet up on her seat, she folded her arms across her knees and rested her head on her forearms, eyes still on the paper.
Sometimes Ryley had thought about going to Azkaban to see her parents. She doubted highly the Ministry would let her past the transportation, if she could find any, and the Dementors would surely give her a run. But nonetheless, the thought occurred, more frequently than ever now. Maids and family advised her to keep those thoughts to herself, but she couldn't help discussing such with her twin, William. Liam was always there for her. They were the best of friends until the end, no matter what. They had their differences, but they essentially got along fantastic. Ryley trusted him with everything, even her life.
