truth
| Full Name | |
Valdis Linnea Eurén
| |
| Nickname | |
None such
| |
| Birthday | |
September 11th
| |
| Age | |
14
| |
| Nationality | |
Swedish
| |
| Ethnicity | |
Caucasian
| |
| Home | |
Kristianstad, Sweden
| |
| Status | |
Single
| |
| Sexuality | |
Bisexual
| |
| Location | |
Hogwarts
| |
| Gender | |
Female
| |
| Titles | |
| Year/Occupation | |
3rd year
| |
| House | |
Ravenclaw
| |
| Species | |
Witch
| |
| Family Blood | |
Half-Blood
| |
| Wand Core | |
| Wand Wood | |
| Wand Arm | |
Right
| |
| Boggart | |
| Patronus | |
| Model | |
Sophie Turner
| |
| Gender | |
Female
| |
| Eye Color | |
Green
| |
| Hair Color | |
Red
| |
| Height | |
5'7"
| |
| Body Style | |
Thin
| |
| M/E State | |
| M/E Disorders | |
| Physical Disorders | |
| Ethnicity | |
Caucasian
|
| Mother | |
Livia Eurén
| |
| Father | |
| Brother(s) | |
| Sister(s) | |
| Other(s) | |
N/A
| |
| First Kiss | |
N/A
| |
| First Love | |
N/A
| |
| First Ex | |
N/A
| |
| Most Recent Ex | |
N/A
| |
| Relationship Status | |
Single
| |
| Dating(?) | |
N/A
| |
| Sexuality | |
Bisexual
|
| Likes | |
| Dislikes | |
Vendela is loud. Vendela is impulsive. Valdis is none of that.
She's the silent contributor; she talks as rarely as possible, and there is a real emphasis on rare. Unless you're Vendela or someone who legitimately wants to talk something rational with Valdis, she really would rather not talk. She behaves as if she were mute to anyone else; it just shows how little interest she has in other people. She's a textbook definition of antisocial... but far from the textbook definition of apathetic. On the odd occasion, she might show some interest in others, with reason.
Valdis is calculated. She takes risks... granted she can reap a reward from them. She is not one to accept foolish challenges, unlike Vendela. She much prefers to invest herself in a single and large effort over many smaller ones. After all, it is not every day that things will go the way that is desired; you need to throw down the effort to make them go your way. Sparing parts of your effort will result in disaster; it's all or nothing. All or nothing. Valdis' own personal belief.
Despite her silence and her general lack of interest in people, Valdis has a powerful presence when she speaks up. Perhaps it is the result of the fire burning inside her soul; the very fire that has been burning since she was born. When she has something to say, she'll say it in the most brutally honest way possible, and without a filter either. She's not afraid of the consequences if such follow; she's not afraid to speak her mind, to ignite the spark of change.
Vendela is loud. Vendela is impulsive. Valdis is none of that.
She's the silent contributor; she talks as rarely as possible, and there is a real emphasis on rare. Unless you're Vendela or someone who legitimately wants to talk something rational with Valdis, she really would rather not talk. She behaves as if she were mute to anyone else; it just shows how little interest she has in other people. She's a textbook definition of antisocial... but far from the textbook definition of apathetic. On the odd occasion, she might show some interest in others, with reason.
Valdis is calculated. She takes risks... granted she can reap a reward from them. She is not one to accept foolish challenges, unlike Vendela. She much prefers to invest herself in a single and large effort over many smaller ones. After all, it is not every day that things will go the way that is desired; you need to throw down the effort to make them go your way. Sparing parts of your effort will result in disaster; it's all or nothing. All or nothing. Valdis' own personal belief.
Despite her silence and her general lack of interest in people, Valdis has a powerful presence when she speaks up. Perhaps it is the result of the fire burning inside her soul; the very fire that has been burning since she was born. When she has something to say, she'll say it in the most brutally honest way possible, and without a filter either. She's not afraid of the consequences if such follow; she's not afraid to speak her mind, to ignite the spark of change.
2) Write about the history of your character. How did they grow up? Is there an incident that made them the way they are? etc. (Again, you can copy this onto your character page later!) (Remember, history must at least be two paragraphs long for the first two characters, three paragraphs long for the third to eighth character, and four paragraphs long for the ninth to fifteenth character!)
It was a rather late night in a hospital in Kristianstad, yet the silence wouldn't last forever. Mere minutes before midnight, the rather unexpected cry of a little baby girl broke the peaceful silence. And yet, it was followed just minutes later by another. Their names? Valdis and Vendela Eurén. But neither Valdis nor Vendela could know, this shouldn't have happened. They shouldn't have been born. They never knew that their father never wanted this of all things.
They were a mistake. But it was too little, too late. And there was nothing that Livia Eurén wanted to do about it; they were her kids, and she wasn't about to take their lives over her husband's wishes. But in time, Valdis and Vendela would become Livia's greatest regret... for her husband had the audacity in him to speak very low of her. Valdis and Vendela knew no better; they were very young. And yet, they felt the divide in their eyes. They could see the tears in their mother's eyes, yet they never understood what it meant. But they'd never come to know... their mother's presence wouldn't last.
Det finns få saker i livet som jag verkligen förnekar. Min far är en av de sakerna. Om han skulle se mig idag undrar jag helt enkelt hur länge han ska leva; inte alls länge och jag skulle gärna gå ner till helvetet för att bara döda honom igen. Jag hoppas, för hans skull ... för min och Vendela, att han inte ser mig igen i den här världen eller den där nedan. För att jag ska till helvetet, och jag vill inte se honom igen.
I wondered day and night as a little child... when would mama and papa stop yelling? Perhaps I knew no better, but I could feel it. I could feel my mama's failure, but it was not long until we never saw her again. She disappeared one night, without a trace. I couldn't find the will in me to talk again; almost as if I had become mute. And I very well might have.
Papa was an a*s; even that is putting it mildly. In hindsight, mama knew better; she was doing what was right for us. But we'd never come to know that. Not until she had come for us once again. Until that moment, I had Vendela and no one else. Papa... I mean, he who does not deserve my recognition had custody of us. Not like I'll ever care about the meaning of that, but the short version is that he was our parent.
He was a lousy bast**d, and the cherry on the cake? He was most certainly not okay in his head. He had more problems with us than an average parent did. His insane insecurity - I honestly cannot bring myself to think any other way of it - resulted in him hitting us, and punishing us severely. And by us, I mean me. Supposedly, I'm not an example, I'm a bad older sister... I'd rather not go there.
Somewhere down the line, I picked up something for writing. Perhaps it was because I never spoke, and found something about the written word that the spoken word could never express. Vendela found something cool about art; well, if you call her kind of art art. Not that I don't, but I find Vendela's definition of art distinctly different from mine. Either way, our hobbies became our escape from reality. At least, mine certainly did. I cannot, and will not speak for Vendela. She can do that herself.
Perhaps I could have seen the future; I'm no Seer, have never been one, and will never be one. But something I wrote about during one lonesome night was about the chance for my mama to come back. For me. For Vendela. And come back she did. I think that was the last I ever saw my dad. And a spoken word would never... could never express my feelings. I think Vendela was over the moon about it; I wouldn't say that I relate on that level. Maybe I was too. I think that around the day we moved into mom's new home in England, I unexplainably changed one of Vendela's various paintings into a moving painting. How amusing that it was something with the moon. Huh.
At one point naturally, we had received that letter. Our acceptance into Hogwarts. Shame we were born a wee bit late, but at least I won't have to complain that I'm surrounded on all sides by idiots. Then again... not that I'd know. I got sorted into Ravenclaw. Vendela got Ravenclaw. Perhaps I was happy. I don't show much emotion, so sometimes I doubt myself even. Although, I often wonder how long until something goes wrong again...
