I know I'm 20 now but I'm pretty sure I've been 18 for the last two years, and six all my life.
ANYway, audition stuff coming later, like when I'm not getting dressed. I just want to crawl back into my pink, micromink Disney princesses in winter sheets.
Parents: Marcus Flint & Daphne Greengrass
Bio: Calm, cool, and cunning Tethys maybe young but she is most likely more talented than half of the upperclassmen at Hogwarts. Unlike her older brother Tethys is disciplined, no nonsense, uptight and to say she is annoyed easily is an understatement. Like most in Slytherin she holds pure-blood lineage as superior, and being related to the Malfoys through her mother, being cousins with Scorpious and Drakaina, she was
bred to personify the Slytherin code. Tethys oozes arrogance, ego, and superiority while still managing to remain refined and beautiful…at least superficially.
Model: Elena Sartison
Played by: OPEN
° Wand: Holly, twelve and three quarters inches long. Core of hippocampus heartstring. Rigid.
° Broom: Her father sends her whatever is newest and fastest, she doesn’t pay attention to them much since she believes sports are for trolls. No offense, Daddy.
° Boggart: Fire
° Patronus: Falcon
° Skills: Thethys excels at all indoor academia [even Muggle Studies, grudgingly.], only showing her weakness in flying lessons or Care of Magical Creatures. She’s been studying Legilimency and Occlumency on her own since her third year, and it’s why she often comes off as emotionless or insensitive.
° Quidditch Position(s): She’s much too refined for that.
✵ Out of Character Questions
°why did you choose this character?
I think I understand her. I was attracted to a good number of slytherin characters. I’ve played one similar to Arachne before [and with Meghan C. too.], and originally I thought Acantha would be my girl. But there’s something about Tethys that seemed a bit separate from the others. That even though she fits in with the Slytherin crowd, she’s not caught up in their petty house rivalry or upholding her family name. She just wants to uphold her own name. I can see her being sort of the quiet snake lurking behind every misdeed. Much sleeker, much more calculated, and that’s much more interesting. And yet her vanity constantly gets in the way of her being a truly great witch. This reminds me of a character I created for a would-be novel, the tragic villainess of the story who’s sympathetic back story conflicts with her current power-trip, self obsessed religious zealot crusade. Tethys is like her. She hangs in the middle between using her power for advancement or destruction--and she knows it.
°can you honestly be active?
I’m not gonna lie, I’m a one set per rp per week kind of active. College life, you know.
°why should we choose you for this character?
I think for the same reasons I want her--I feel I could do her justice and make for a very round, very integral character.
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I left London more or less on my own the morning of September first. My mother was “hung, dear” from a night of gallivanting with the neighbors downstairs again, as I found her in her usuual disposition on the antique black velvet couch draped across it as her dishelveled silk dress was across her. I mixed up a morning after remedy potion for her--so easy trolls could mix these things--so she did not suffer like muggles do. Normally I wasn’t so kind, but I wouldn’t be seeing the women again until Christmas, and who else would take care of her? Her husband was off again to f//uck knows where and the spit of his loins known as my brother was missing too. It wasn’t my concern whether or not he missed the Express, and so I left mother half awake and alone, bringing along only one enchanted trunk nipping at my heels and my latest Marc Jacobs shoulder bag [a Muggle, but occasionally excused.].
The care was waiting for me. Grandmother always sent it on the first day, normally to pick up both her grandchildren. That was her way of showing she had any interest in us; she was not the kind to be cordial on birthdays or holidays, but she did fund all our educational expenses. The driver was a squib, otherwise useless had my grandmother not made him her prized obedient servant [only as she jinxed him to be mute]. I ingoredd him as he opened the door for me, and pulled my luggage into the trunk, and ingored him still as we drove to King’s Cross. He made himself useful thereby dragging my trunk through a raid of muggles who would have glanced twice at hovering, moving objects. At the wall, he left me, bowing.
I shooed him. “Tell grandmother I said hello,” knowing full well he wouldn’t say anything at all, before entering into the other side.