Post by Han Kim on Jul 30, 2010 2:27:58 GMT -5
take out your wands, it's
han EUL kim !
[/color]han EUL kim !
hello! introduce yourself, you nifty person ![/color][/center]
name , han eul kim.
gender , boy.
age , 16.
year , 6th year.
blood , half.
wand , 9 1/2", elm, centaur tail hair.
playby , taemin lee.
tell me all about your pesky behaviour !
[/color][/center]personality , at a glance, mr. kim seems somewhat rude. a smile almost never crosses his face, his mouth practically clamps shut at the sight of other people, and his initial responses to people are curt.
in truth, han tries almost unfittingly hard to mask his emotions. his façade gets harder to keep up every day, but still he works at it in hopes that one day he might finally be a normal guy. the smallest things remind him of his mother, but he suppresses the tears. even the biggest events hardly get him excited, and even when they do, that stays inside too. han has somewhat of an inability to trust people, the task takes years to accomplish.
this is due in part to his insecurity about his english skills; two years in canada hasn't been enough to even take the edge off his accent really at all. han repeats himself for people who don't quite understand all too often, and sometimes the words he has to repeat aren't even the right ones. this, combined with remarks about 'chinks' and 'japs' made straight to his face, don't exactly build up confidence. han would rather say nothing at all than speak in english.
underneath his pretenses, he manages to be somewhat of an alright guy. he's loyal (han still hasn't managed to quite give up on his extended family back in kaesong) and loving, though he's only ever had one girlfriend. affection in public isn't something han goes for, usually, but in private he's a total romanticist. unfortunately he's also somewhat judgmental and his first impressions of people are consistently mean. the inner han comes out only for special occasions: those who have managed to gain his trust or hate might see him, as well as anyone who's around when he gets his hands on a joint, which is more and more frequently these days.
likes , fashion. painting. nachos. good asian food. making bracelets. the beach. marijuana. hair dye. polaroids. older girls and boys.
dislikes , math. fake asian food. anime. english. needles and their various uses. boats. preppy clothes (at least he says so.) everyone assuming he's chinese. snakes. elevators.
patronuses , cooking. making jewelry. bargaining.
dementors , english. self-confidence. borderline ocd.
mirror of eriseds , to master english. to be in love. to die with people who love him by his side.
boggarts , elevators. needles. snakes.
flaws , lacking english skills. judgmentalness. shyness.
what about the story of your spiffy life ?
[/color][/center]history , [ just a note before i start: this history is kind of obnoxious but i'm lazy, so. ]
han was born in the little industrial city of kaesong, north korea, on september 18th. the apple of his parents' and grandparents' eyes, the little boy lived a far from lacking life. though food was in short supply in north korea, and magic was the worst thing one could do, the new pride and joy of the kim family was everyone's first priority. life was good for little han even in a communist nation that was falling apart at the seams. as he grew up, the family around him morphed from a quite typical north korean family to one quite detached from the way of life everyone else lived. sure, he attended the same school as everyone else in his neighborhood, but once he got home, his parents taught him that things weren't like they were at school. that he could manipulate the world around him. that north korea wasn't quite the wonderland it was made out to be. that the propaganda was not quite true. little han was taught everything that his government was trying to keep from him. by fourteen, he was a full-fledged enemy of the state. he didn't quite realize the consequences, and the authorities didn't realize the trouble the boy had the potential to cause.[/blockquote]
but instead of rebelling against their country, as one might expect, the kim family (one of around 19 million kim families) had different plans. one day after getting home from school, han was told to pack a few of his things and to pack them quickly. his two male cousins as well as his mother and father were waiting with their bags already. han didn't bother to ask for a explanation, instead opting to do as he was told. the group sat in silence on the drive to the namdaemum—the south gate of the city, one of the tourist attractions. the place crawled with tourists, flashing cameras, the south korean accented chatter... han and his family hardly stood out. perhaps that was the point, because they boarded a bus with south korean tourists and crossed the border, produced fake ids, and no one thought anything of it. they were the lucky ones.
no one, that is, except the north korean government. their citizens moving to south korea, or to europe, which was where the kims were headed, was not on the agenda for the socialist regime. people who break the law must be punished accordingly. if they're not around to bear the punishment, their family makes a perfect substitute, and thus the remaining members were taken away from their simple lives as factory workers in kaesong. not that han's little group had time to worry about that. his father, the oldest member of the group, was in charge, leading his wife, son, and nephews and niece. they had booked their tickets to london a long, long time ago. from the border it was on to incheon. on a plane to los angeles. back on to finish the journey and settle in their new home.
adjusting to life in england was, to say the least, interesting. english education in korea lacked in teaching its students much of anything when it came to real english and han struggled. the korean magic community seemed impossible to reach. school was a ridiculous waste of time. as far as han was concerned, life in london may have been free, but life in kaesong was the life he preferred. resentment began to set in and the distance between han and his parents grew and grew.
as he entered freshman year, han finally began to understand how this brave new world worked. his english vocabulary expanded exponentially, but his voice still carried a cute little accent. han tested his parents' tempers nearly every day with his new activities and his new friends and his strange new life. was this not what they had wanted? their son was growing up as a member of a nation where he could be free, he was growing up the opposite of the way they had. his first year of western high school marked a good number of milestones for the second youngest boy in the kim household. his first kiss, with a girl who knew what she was doing much more than he did. his first cigarette, after which he nearly coughed up a lung. his first hair dying escapade, which resulted in a bleach blonde catastrophe. his first time doing something his parents didn't quite like.
in losing his innocence, han also lost his parents' approval. he was no longer their little angel but a rowdy teenager—a rowdy western teenager. his cousins earned love with their perfect grades and family-oriented habits; han earned time without friends. this wasn't the life the kims had envisioned. this especially wasn't the life taehee kim had wanted for her boys and especially not for her only son. she tried to straighten him out; she took him on mother-son vacations, enrolled him in an outpatient rehab (though he hardly used any drugs at the time). she was ostracized by her husband, her eldest nephew for not being able to keep han in line. taehee kim simply couldn't get through to her son.
was it all her fault? mrs. kim asked herself the question daily, over and over. her husband's venomous words pounded in her head regularly. his shameful expression towards her flicked across her mind every time she thought of him. it was too much for a woman who was truly innocent to take. life as the shame of her family took its toll eventually. the summer before han turned fifteen was the final straw. a lawsuit for graffiti and marijuana smoking in the local mall led his mother to the edge, and soon after, taehee kim was dead by her own hands.
the aftermath of his mother's suicide blurred together in han's mind—too many suits, tissues, and plates of food that no one wanted to eat. all han knew was that it was his fault. even with that in mind, however, he found no way to stop doing what he was doing or to stop living how he was living. he just had to add in the suppression of his emotions. no one wants to be the freak. so han told no one about what happened to him; in fact, he emotionally detached from everyone around him.
unsure what to do with his son, han's father looked for some way to take care of him. the answer presented itself in the form of an acceptance letter to hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry--a few years late, it explained, because of postal problems. han packed his trunk and off he went, hopefully to return the ideal son next summer.
mother , taeehee kim, deceased.
father , jaemin kim, 50, assembly line worker.
siblings , none.
others , paul kim, 15, cousin, student. andrew kim, 17, cousin, cashier.[/size]
aside from this epic fantasy, who are you ?
[/color][/center]name , why, halley of course!
age , 16.
experience , ughhh i don't even know. 6 years maybe?
sample ,
paul stumbled into olly's room--the room in which they had so often shared glances but had done nothing to act upon them, in which they toiled on the none-too-easy act of getting paul to pass his classes--with neither invitation nor grace. he should have known better than to intrude upon a neighbor, what with his father's strict upbringing, but unfortunately the few manners the elder mr. neil had instilled in him disappeared in the presence of more colorful characters such as mr. jack daniels. he didn't speak for a while, taking in his surroundings and trying for a moment to remember where he was. "orry!" paul exlaimed suddenly, as though he were surprised to see the boy here, in his own room. he sloppily threw his arms around olly in an alcoholic embrace.
paul held the slightly shorter boy close to him for a few lovestruck moments. no doubt he made it undeniably clear how drunk he was not only because of the sudden change to their rather non-affectionate relationship but because of the smell of whiskey, tequila, vodka on his breath. how much paul could drink always seemed to amaze those around him. he was small, he was (half-)asian, he was a sissy with his violin. he couldn't hold alcohol. but then he amazed them all. he himself lost count of how many bottles he could down. god knew how many were in his room now, and god knew how much trouble he'd be in if he couldn't clean them up before someone found out about them. seventeen year olds weren't supposed to be drinking, and certainly not seventeen year old violinists attending school on a scholarship.
just as suddenly as he had enfolded olly in his arms, he pushed him away. glazed-over dark eyes took a moment to focus on him before remembering why he'd pushed the boy he wanted away. "orry! i, errsh, i don'trearry 'member what i wanted...." paul slurred the words almost beyond comprehensibility, but he thought them rather unimportant. what mattered was the fact that olly was standing before him, and no one knew what a drunk paul neil might do with him before the night was over. if, that was, olly was willing to consent. paul flashed the charming smile he used so often to bring girls back to his room for a good, old-fashioned round of bedding and forgetting.
with olly, though, following the smile paul drew a blank. he didn't know what to do. he didn't want to forget olly. something about the smart but hard-partying boy drew paul to him and made him cling there, unsure of what he felt for him. part of his mind said that surely it was only envy. of course he wanted to be like olly. he was smart, but he had fun too. he was popular, and he never seemed to make the dumb social mistakes paul made. all the same, paul was too proud to admit that he was jealous of olly. surely he liked him because he made good company. there was never a dull moment with him, even when doing the dullest of math worksheets. but his desire to be by olly's side always extended further than that, and paul knew it. what he didn't know was whether or not he could stand to love a man. not in the midst of his father and his all-male family who looked so far down on fags. fags like him.
"orry. orry," paul finally came to a conclusion about what he wanted from olly to come knocking on his door at random, "keep me companysh?"
paul held the slightly shorter boy close to him for a few lovestruck moments. no doubt he made it undeniably clear how drunk he was not only because of the sudden change to their rather non-affectionate relationship but because of the smell of whiskey, tequila, vodka on his breath. how much paul could drink always seemed to amaze those around him. he was small, he was (half-)asian, he was a sissy with his violin. he couldn't hold alcohol. but then he amazed them all. he himself lost count of how many bottles he could down. god knew how many were in his room now, and god knew how much trouble he'd be in if he couldn't clean them up before someone found out about them. seventeen year olds weren't supposed to be drinking, and certainly not seventeen year old violinists attending school on a scholarship.
just as suddenly as he had enfolded olly in his arms, he pushed him away. glazed-over dark eyes took a moment to focus on him before remembering why he'd pushed the boy he wanted away. "orry! i, errsh, i don'trearry 'member what i wanted...." paul slurred the words almost beyond comprehensibility, but he thought them rather unimportant. what mattered was the fact that olly was standing before him, and no one knew what a drunk paul neil might do with him before the night was over. if, that was, olly was willing to consent. paul flashed the charming smile he used so often to bring girls back to his room for a good, old-fashioned round of bedding and forgetting.
with olly, though, following the smile paul drew a blank. he didn't know what to do. he didn't want to forget olly. something about the smart but hard-partying boy drew paul to him and made him cling there, unsure of what he felt for him. part of his mind said that surely it was only envy. of course he wanted to be like olly. he was smart, but he had fun too. he was popular, and he never seemed to make the dumb social mistakes paul made. all the same, paul was too proud to admit that he was jealous of olly. surely he liked him because he made good company. there was never a dull moment with him, even when doing the dullest of math worksheets. but his desire to be by olly's side always extended further than that, and paul knew it. what he didn't know was whether or not he could stand to love a man. not in the midst of his father and his all-male family who looked so far down on fags. fags like him.
"orry. orry," paul finally came to a conclusion about what he wanted from olly to come knocking on his door at random, "keep me companysh?"
ps , yes i added this section in mysefl stfu. uh, i didn't see a spot for house.
he's a hufflepuff tho.and the academy award for best app goes to ...
[/color]credit goes to maya, or OH HIYA, MAYA PAPAYA. of caution.
i will seriously kill you with my bare hands if you DARE steal
this application, as i made it by myself and it took three hrs.[/font][/center]
