First Name: Given:No , Chosen:Ashe
Last Name: Given:MinWoo , Chosen:Mimmeaux
Blood Status: Halfblood
Spoken Languages: English only (with awkward Korean accent)
Place of Birth: North Korea (currently British Citizen)
Age/Date of Birth: age 14, born April 11, 1996
Approved Special Features: (unsure how to request these) His father created a serum called angel wine. It is made from the distillation of the blood of thirteen still living persons and grants an almost horrible kind of immortality, along with total insanity in some cases. The user is forever immortal, though that doesn’t mean they cannot be rendered useless. Either severing their body parts and burying them/locking them in separate locations will make it imposible for them to move, escentialy killing them. Also without continued doseing of the serum the user will surely go insane and begin to decay without ever being able to fully die. His father gave it to him because of an accident in his past that nearly killed him. The serum is by far illegal to produce and must be made in secret, including the killings needed to produce the raw materials. One could easily end up in azkaban, or worse captures and forced to produce the serum for the dark wizards.
Eyes: Bright Honey brown, usually covered by Jade green contacts
Hair: Such a bright platinum blond that in direct sunlight it can blind some if they look directly at it. It is held at impossible angles by copious amounts of styling product. Some refer to it as cotton candy shaped.
General Appearance: Very slender, bordering on anorexic. Skin is very pale and nearly flawless, accept for marks on his arms from his serum doses and a large conglomeration of scars from gashes and burns caused by a car bombing when he was 2.
Dressing Style:Durring class, he covers his slight, long frame in a tent of a robe that is kept closed to hide that he isn’t wearing the uniform beneath it. Out of class, a better fitting white version of the robe left open to show his billowy jade green top and tight white laced leather pants. His shows are generally black ankle-height cowboy style boots made of alligator or snake skin, and he has one piece of jewelry which never leaves his body. A black cuff made of Italian leather, adorned with a blooming rose of the same material and painted with red streaks so that blood appears to be dripping down the pettals.
General Character Traits: Tends to be a loner by choice despite his innate ability to attract people, and when angered he flies into violent fits that generally end with both himself and anyone else involved making a trip to the infirmary. His father once mused toward him that his mother might be hiding some veela in her blood.
Likes: Solitude, quiet, small creatures, remembering the time he saw a real Imugi and almost touched it, and playing the drums and piano. He also is fond of things which are unique and rare.
Dislikes: Getting dirty, being stuck in one place, uniforms, snobs and the overly friendly alike, things that are too big and powerful for their own good, and when people speak of guardian angels (the mere thought of such a thing sends him into a rage). Also, for some reason, he cannot stand being called by his birth name.
Habits/Mannerisms: He is never one to start a conversation unless someone looks depressed to the point of murder or suicide. Every once in a while he will approach, but never speak first. He is not easy to anger, but quick to fly off the handle once he is enraged. Usually though he is impossibly calm, atleast from the outward point of view. He spends most of his free time trying to make friends with the voices in his mind. When he does have moments of peace, he can be found outdoors or in an open window either writing or playing an imaginary composition on an imaginary instrument.
Strengths: Living with constant voices has taught him how to quiet his mind and remain calm in very stressfull situations. Because of this he has quick reflexes and a somewhat higher ability to retain new information. He is very good at puzzles and solving mysteries, and always has an artfull approach to anything he does.
Weaknesses: Many times he tries to hard to keep himself grounded and eventually the anger explodes, causing him to black out and begin spouting off curses and hexes at random until he fully falls unconscious. The only upside to this is that he hasn’t got the required knowledge to use the truly dangerous curses even if he tries to and they will send him unconscious faster. On this note, he will also try to skip ahead lessons, since he is three years older than the other first years, and will often end up injuring himself because of it. Beyond that, he cares far to much about his appearance, even if others opinions do not matter to him; and this causes him to spend more time primping and preening than studying.
Mother: Porche Mimmeaux-MinWoo
Blood Status: Pureblood (speculation of possible half-veela)
Father: Imugi MinWoo
Blood Status: Halfblood
Siblings: Sister Kim MinWoo, died at infancy.
Background Story: No’s family life was…odd. He doesn’t remember much of his early childhood, nor how he got the large burn scar on his back., he was much too young. The rest up until age six or so he doesn’t remember simply because it is not important. Around the middle of age 6 though, while his mother was cooking, No’s father once again made a bad conection in the fibers of the wand core he was working on. The backfire shocked No’s mother enough to cause her to drop the knife and cut into no’s arm deep, severing a vein. He had always loved the color red and generally red drinks were his favorite, so it didn’t take him long to decide that this red liquid would be good as well. Most children would have found out then that it doesn’t…Not No. Soon after his first taste of blood he passed out. Bacteria from the knife, his mother had been cutting some catfish, traveled through his bloodstream and collected in his heart. He became so sick that St. Mungo’s couldn’t even help him. That was when his father remembered the potion’s work he’d been doing while in North Korea. He had called it Angelwine to be ironic. It was as close to the elixir of life as one could get without the sorcerer’s stone. When they took No home, he injected the potion directly into the boy, thinking in sheer panic that he’d lost his son. After losing his daughter he couldn’t handle that.
When no came around again he seemed normal, and all he could remember about the whole incident was the taste of the blood. He absolutely loved it. His parents of course were shocked at first when he continued to try to find blood to drink, from the snakes in the yard to the trays of meat his mother brought from the butcher’s to every now and then trying to get more from himself. They even got him a few pets over the years to try and distract him…(The ferret they got him, he named it Timber, when he was 10 was the only one he cared for enough not to drink from) Eventually though they realized it wasn’t so bad, considering the medicine he had to take constantly. He even made a vampire friend, Maurice, who taught him how to tell who was and wasn’t safe to drink from. At age 11 he found he hadn’t received his Hogwarts letter and, taking it as a sign they didn’t want someone as odd as he – for he knew he was odd – he started trying to tone down the habit. Had he had access to it at the time he would have started smoking just to calm his nerves.
Three years later, after having gone three months without drinking a drop of human blood – his parents didn’t care so much about the animals since it kept him stable – he finally received his letter. They left it with Maurice for him to give to No after they left for a research trip of his father’s; as well as a Note explaining why the letter was dated for two years ago…and one year ago…and this year. They were afraid that he would not be accepted, or thrown out of the school, or possible jailed if an accident happened while he was getting his fix. Now that they trusted he could control himself they contacted the school and had the papers ready. The tickets and money were in his trunk which was packed for him. Timber had a new sturdier cage and a few new toys for the train ride. Maurice was to take him shopping. He finaly got to go to Hogwarts…a few years late though.
Strong Area of Magic: Transfiguration
Weak Area of Magic: Care of magical Creatures
Preferred House Choice: Slytherin
Responsibility or Guidance?: Responsibility
Forgiveness or Justice?: Forgiveness
Adventure or Security?: Security
What does "Never tickle a sleeping dragon" mean to your character? Don’t give anyone a reason to harm you, and then if you are harmed you have every reason to retaliate to the full of your ability.
Pets: Female ferret with raccoon style coloring named Timber
Wand: 14” Holly with Veela hair core. Wood is stained to look ebony, sealed with a lacquer containing gold flecks, carved to the tip with scale detailing, and a simple grip with gold ends and an emerald held at the bottom.
Quidditch position: None, does not play well with others
Anything else? Wants to be a wandmaker or portrait maker. Failing that a Model.
Are You A Native English Speaker?: Yes and no. He was never taught Korean, but learned English from parents who spoke mainly Korean so he has an odd accent.
Tugging at the leather cuff round his wrist, and more than a few times tripping on the oversized tent of a robe he wore, Ashe stood otherwise still. He was simply in awe of this place. He was also afraid, that since he had at least three years on the other boys in his year that he would have to work even harder at keeping himself in check. Was he really ready? Could he…Without a moment to spare he fell headlong into a table full of sixth year Slytherins, knocking a water goblet over onto what he could only describe as a yakuza boss in training. “Starting young these days I see…” He remarked before the large girl had a chance to show him what for. Without a moments thought he pushed past the group gathering, stumbling away and into a corner where he worked to make himself invisible.
With that Fiasco over and done with, at least it seemed to be, Ashe took a seat and nervously watched as the professors took their places and the hat was placed out….that ratty old hat which held all the wisdom of its long years on this planet, and it seemed to stare back at the teen in equal dread of the moment it reached him. And it wasn’t long either…It seemed that there weren’t many new students at the beginning of the alphabet… As Ashe stood and grit his teeth, tugging at the soft black leather round his wrist, he made his way to the stool.
‘It’s not fair,’ he thought as he sat ‘who knows where I would do my best better than myself…’ As soon as the hat hovered over the boy’s cotton candy puff of hair it started to cough “Hush…I don’t like thi-this…anymore than y-you…” Ashe just winced and tried to make it quick for the hat. He wanted to be in Slytherin, simply because it was where he knew people…well, his parents did anyway. Even if he didn’t want to see them, he felt safer knowing he had some kind of connections. Not a second later the hat tried to squirm away. “Enough, I can’t breathe…” It huffed as it moved away from the product-laden head of hair. “This one goes to-“