ROBINS, nora gabrielle

WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES I SEE YOU
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NORA GABRIELLE ROBINS !
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IN MY DREAMS YOU WILL BE NEAR[/center][/b][/color]

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I WON’T LET YOU DISAPPEAR
BUT I’M HERE ON MY OWN
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FULL NAME:

NICKNAMES:

AGE:

BIRTHDATE:

GENDER:

BLOOD:

MEMBER GROUP:

YEAR

ORIENTATION:

AFFILATION:

WAND:

PET:

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I AM CRYING OUT FOR YOU
IN THE CENTER OF MY HEART
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LIKES:

DISLIKES:

STRENGTHS:

WEAKNESS:

GOALS:

BOGGART:

PATRONUS:

ERISED:

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YOU USED TO HEAR ME BREATHE
WHEN YOU TOUCHED ME DEEP
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HAIR DESCRIPTION:

EYE DESCRIPTION:

HEIGHT/WEIGHT:

BODY TYPE:

DISTINGUISHING FEATURE:

SCARS/MARKS:

FACE CLAIM:

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CAN YOU HEAR THE SOUNDS?
CAN YOU FEEL THE HEAT?
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BIRTHPLACE:

RESIDENCE:

PARENTS:

SIBLINGS:

IMPORTANT RELATIVES:

OWLs grades:

NEWTs grades:

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I HAVE LEFT PARADISE AND
I DID NOT EVEN SAY GOODBYE
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OOC NAME:

AGE:

EXPERIENCE:

OTHER CHARACTERS:

DID YOU READ THE RULES:

ROLEPLAY EXAMPLE:

Lucy Weasley loved to paint, no loved wasn't strong enough a word. She adored painting. Ever since she'd been a young child, her mother would set up millions of small little paint pots in the back yard before sending her youngest child out into their yard with a long, fat roll of parchment and a few brushes. She would spend hours outside, dipping her fingers, hands, feet and occasionally her face, into the paint and smooshing it onto the paper. She loved the way the colors would just appear on the page, the way certain ones looked together, and the way she could make anything she wanted out of it. But her favorite paint play time had always been when her mum or dad had joined in. They’d site there, splattering each other with paint, and just getting covered in the sticky stuff. Lucy's fascination with the colorful substance continued on even after she left home for Hogwarts. In her first year, she'd often bring her paints and a few pieces of paper into one of the empty classrooms, and just paint her worries away. It was quite relaxing, and it never mattered if she ever got paint on anything, a few simple cleaning spells would rid the dingy classrooms of every speck of paint. She continued doing this throughout her first year, and on until the end of her 2nd year, where the paint episodes began getting fewer and farther apart. Eventually they stopped all together. The need to drain herself of stress was gone, as she now had a somewhat partial control over her temper.

However, she still missed feeling the raw emotions that splattering paint about a classroom gave her, and the way everything was covered in multicolored goop by the end of the activity. And so it was one rainy evening, just past curfew that she decided it was time to start up once again. So, taking the big box that was full of jars of paint, brushes and a few scraps of paper from under her bed, she went in search of an empty classroom.

Lucy wandered the halls, peering into classroom after dark classroom; until she finally came upon the one she had used since her first year there. She had no idea what it was used for, as she'd never had a class in it, but it was large enough that she could push the desks and chairs to the sides of the room and still have ample space to fling the paint.

Moments after slipping into the room, she had everything set up. Her paint splattered easel was in the very center of the room, a fresh sheet of parchment clipped to it, hundreds of jars of paint surrounding her. Lucy had poured some of the jars into pans, and others into little pots, while some were still in their jars. A few different sized paintbrushes were scattered about the room, one tightly clutched in the redhead’s fist.
She looked around her, making sure everything was set before sticking the handle of her paint brush into her mouth and pulling her unruly mane of red hair into a loose braid, pinning back the straight curls with a few bobby pins. No need to get her hair covered in paint while she went crazy with the colorful substances.

And so the flinging began. She doused her brush in color after color, flinging it at the parchment, desks and ceiling, mesmerized by the whirlwind of colors. If one had chosen to look in on the scene, they would've seen a slightly paint covered floor, brown desks splashed with rays of color, a redhead, (equally covered in splatters of paint), flinging the stuff like a madman, and in the very center, an almost clean piece of parchment. Her aim was pretty off, all those months not painting had obviously stopped her from being able to control were she sent the bright blobs, but it was still a heck of a lot of fun! So much fun, that she didn't realize it when the classroom door swung open, a human standing just inside the door frame.

THIS FORM WAS MADE BY MISTRESS SNAKEY OF CAUTION PLEASE DO NORT REMOVE THIS PART.
SONG LYRICS ARE HERE ON MY OWN BY SWEETBOX.

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Welcome to DDB! Make sure to read the plot and rules if you haven't already and post in the claims. We're happy to have you on board, have fun!