Ophelia De Morte (Complete!)

[OPHELIA DE MORTE]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,border:solid 5px #181E24; background-color: #31414A;] Ophelia Full Name: Ophelia De Morte Age: 16 {June 16} Gender: Female Sexuality: Asexual Blood Type: Pure Blood Species: Witch Familiar: Southern White-Faced Owl named Bonaparte Patronus: Crocodile Boggart: Her sister’s lifeless torn apart body as though ranked through by the claws of a demon House: ⇢ SLYTHERIN Year: ⇢ 6th Strong Subjects: ⇢ Demonology ⇢ Magical Theory Weak Subjects: ⇢ History of Magic ⇢ Music Wandcrafting: . ⇢Wood: Ash (A wand wood known to be used by the Ambitious) ⇢Core: ⇢ Ashwinder Ash ⇢Length: 13 1/2 ⇢Flexibility: Particularly bendy (Reflexes her personality nicely) Personality: ⇢ Good Ophelia is a flexible person, able to adjust to any situation handed to her. It helps that she is a particularly gifted speaker, one would even go so far as to say that she possess a silver-tongue. When not moudling herself to her situation, she is generally a bubbly, well-mannered, and goes out of her way to be polite to everyone-whether this is her actually personality, or just the one she found most pleasing to most people, is hard to say. This, either way, is a harsh contrast to the things she says and the hobbies she has (ex: “The Dark One will raise and swallow you all,” she said cheerfully). Ophelia’s hobbies could be considered dark and peculiar for a girl her age, she collects old bones and is unnersisarly obsession for demons and monsters. She is very creative and when not doing something creepy is off doing something to exercise that part of her brain, as she has an intolerance for boredom of any sort. Bad Above all else, Ophelia is a liar and notably two-faced and while she is bubbly and polite, it comes off as overly creepy sometimes. She doesn’t care for anyone, expect her sister, who she sticks to possessively as though she were an object. It can be said that she is greedy for her time and attention. With that being said, she usually has zero genuine empathy for other people and even less for other living things. Misc -She is a Kinetic learner. She has an awful time at being taught, and is typically a horrible student. The only way she can learn is by going and doing it herself. -Ophelia has no musical abilities. HISTORY: -When she was seven, she dared the neighbor boy to stand on the edge of the old, deep well. He did so. And she pushed him to see how far he would fall. He fell all the way down. It was the first time, she recalls, lying to get out of something. She's been at it ever since. -The happiest memory she has is a a toss up between finding out that she shared a dormitory with her sister or reading The Tragic Historie of the Damned Doctor Faustus for the first time. Aspirations: ⇢ To become the greatest demon summon in the world (That way, she can make sure that her sister will be the most famous witch of all time.) INVENTORY: She carries a slightly large very round very neon pink purse in which she always has on her in the bag: --She has a lighter, even though she doesn't smoke. Its a good thing to have on encase somebody does. --She always has a pen on her -- A magical skeleton key Face Claiming: [i]Blood +[/i], Diva, Ophelia De Morte. MY NAME IS WEDNESDAY AND I'M A WIZARD .

[OPHELIA DE MORTE]

☆ Ophelia De Morte

Occlumency

The family was visiting their dear old Aunt and Uncle, who were really their Great Aunt and Uncle but calling them Aunt and Uncle was way less time consuming. Their Uncle was a shrewd and astute man who cherished his privacy and liked to keep his belongs all locked up. Ophelia did not like that aspect of him. What was he going to do with all his things now that he was a wizened old man? He should have gladly given her his ancient tomes and whatnot when she came of age, knowing how much she wanted them all. That’s how she felt about it, and about him, he was a selfish and foolish old man. And if he wasn’t going to give it to her, she was going to take what she wanted herself.

Ophiliea waited until two hours after everyone went off to bed. She slithered out from under her blankets and on to the floor as silence as she could. In nothing but her nightgown and undergarments—wand in hand, she opened the bedroom door as carefully as she could as not to wake her sleeping sister. She took a deep breath, once the hard part was over with she thought hard about her cover story in advance. ‘I’m going to the bathroom and I saw one of the cats with something in its mouth and wanted to see what it was.” No. A delicate frown crossed her face. Too complicated. ‘I wanted to take one of the cats to bed with me.’ Yes. She smiled. That was more like it. With that settled, she repeated that in her mind over and over again as she made her way to her real destination. As quiet as a mouse with cotton on its paws, Ophelia navigated the halls in the dark until she came to the tall dark wooden doors, locked of course.

She didn’t bother with an opening spell. It would be obvious that the man would have protected against that. Ophelia bent down slightly and pulled out from her sock a small, unassuming, old fashioned silver key. The witch hoped it would work as she slid the key into the hole. She turned it slowly, listening to the tumblers click and clack muffled like. Ophelia realised then that she was holding her breath. So she released her breath and started to breathe normally again. In a similar manner as earlier, the dark haired girl opened the door carefully as she could and closed it behind her. She then relocked the door, sticking the key back into her stocking.

“Lumos,” She whispered into the dark room in her high and airy tone of voice. Her wand came to life casting a pale white light from its tip. Ophelia, on her tip toes, walked across the wooden floor. There were many expensive pieces of furniture in the closed room, statues and china too, but she wanted none of that. What she wanted was locked away in an armoire. She came up close to it, inspecting it the best she could without touching it. She then tried the knob. Locked, as expected. She once again took her key out, shrinking it with a whisper and a flick of her wand. The now small key was inserted into the hole and twisted all the way around until pop the door opened wide.


Ophelia felt her eyes grow wide with delight. There were so many nasty, nasty things in the armoire! She wanted to take them all! But no, not this time. She would come back for the rest of the some other time. Right now, she was here for one item in particular. A dusty, ancient book that sat on the middle shelf next to jars that were filled with sinister things. She jabbed the spine of the book with her wand and casually
muttered “Reducio” and shrunk the book down enough to fit nicely in her bra. She dug around inside of her bra and pulled out a book she had shrunk earlier and with a mummer, she grew it to the same size as the other book once was, and with a whisper and a stab of her wand, transfigured the plain black book into a cover replica of the one she had stolen. Its pages, of course, were blank. But by the time he would notice, they would be back at the school.

Once that was all situated and ready to go, she relocked the armoire and tip-toed across the room. Regrowing the key to its original size, she unlocking the door again and stuck her silver friend into her stocking after relocking it. In the hallway, safe and sound, she thought pleasantly as a smile spread wide across her face.

‘Now,’ She thought, her mind all summer and sunshine, ‘About that cat.” She knew a great big one slept on one of the velvet lined chair closer to the kitchen. So Ophelia walked now, feeling completely at ease, towards the kitchen until she came to the chairs. And right on money, the fat old cat was sleeping there.

“C’mon you! <3” She chirped, picking the old cat up. It flattened its ears against its graying head but she paid no mine to it.

“What are you doing up?” The sudden coolness of her Great Uncle’s voice made her jump, almost dropping the large fluffy cat. She turned around, holding the beast to her chest to cover up evidence. The caught child repeated her story over and over in her head until the words became meaningless, until they leaked into her subconscious so much that she believed it herself if she didn’t know otherwise. Her Uncle looked down his nose at her; he was indeed a towering and imposing figure.

“Getting a cat to take to bed with me” She said as innocently as she could with her honey and sugar voice. Ophelia gave the cat a squeeze that it didn’t appreciate. The Maine Coon looked like a grumpy raccoon in her arms or a tiny upset bear. She looked up at her Uncle, her eyes wide and shiny, yes she could feel them. She replayed the thought over in her head, slowly, as though rewinding a tape in still frames. She could almost feel his metaphorical fingers try and pry open her mind. There was a moments pause that felt much longer than it really was.

“Oh…” He looked away, “Try not to stay up too late then.” He finished in a pleasant tone, before passing her by and going on his way—into the kitchen, she assumed. Ophelia waited a moment, before turning around herself and headed off in the direction of the bedrooms. Her sugary sweet smile grew and contorted as she squeezed the clawless cat to her bosom.

[ƒσятє]

☆ OCCLU WHAT?

ACCEPTED.