Real Name: Jasmine
Real Age: 20
How did you hear about Static? Search engines and webrings.

Character Full Name: Vivian Agnes Kirke
Age: 11; Born August 27th
Year: 1st
House: Ravenclaw
Wand: Willow, 12 1/4", Dragon Heartstrings

Appearance: Vivian stands neither noticeably taller, nor smaller than her female classmates. Her porcelain skin sports a blue birthmark high on her right thigh. Her full lips are usually pressed into a serious frown. Dark blue eyes glitter brightly behind thick lashes, and jet black hair, so long she could almost sit on it, flows razor straight down her back. She is fervently attentive to each detail of her appearance, each hair exactly in its place, nails perfectly trimmed, skin moisturized, uniform pressed and creased to perfection.

Personality: Obsessively neat with a pedantic fetish for detail, roommates are sure to be horrified by her constant attempts to turn the dorm room into a sterile environment. Her homework is always flawless, her notes color-coded; the work is perfect, the answers always correct, though her assignments lack inspiration and she barely manages to keep her plants alive in Herbology. She does not socialize, and generally eats alone, but for the few times fellow students have tried to reach out to her. She freezes them off like warts with icy silences and the occasional paralytic glare. She is deathly allergic to anything with fur and, some have speculated, sunlight. Her antisocial behavior is born partly out of a false belief that she can't attain academic perfection and still have fun.

History: INCOMPLETE [to be finished later]

RP Sample:

"I'm dying aren't I?"

Healer Fenwick withdrew his fingers from the young girl's neck and gazed down at her seriously, chewing on his lower lip.

Vivian Kirke gazed back, cupid's bow mouth pressed into a frown. Her question was matter-of-fact, voiced without the rising panic displayed by most hypochondriacs.

"Vivian, where is your father?" Fenwick asked her as he sat and began to fill out the paperwork unfortunately necessary of every patient visit.

"Father is home, working, and you're deflecting," dark-haired Vivian replied with a distinct note of impatience in her voice, "I sneezed this morning. There was nothing in my bedroom to provoke a sneeze. What's wrong with me?"

"Absolutely nothing Vivian. In fact you're one of the healthiest children I've seen in quite a while," Fenwick responded, flipping shut the folio of paperwork with a practiced movement of the wrist. The aging Healer stood and ushered Vivian to the door. "Of course that would be because most people don't come to St. Mungo's unless they are actually sick, and you have been here five times in as many months. I'll be notifying the receptionists that they aren't to admit you without your father's consent. That will be all Vivian, I trust you can see yourself out." He closed the door of his office before Vivian could speak and left the girl to voice her protests to the doorknob.