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 PEAKES, lena
Lena Peakes
Posted: Apr 10 2008, 03:15 AM


Newbie


Group: ALPHA
Posts: 1
Member No.: 22
Joined: 9-April 08



and every tear that had to fall from her eyes
and every day Lena wondered how she'd get through the night


user posted image


you get the life you're given

full name;; Lena Sophia Peakes.
age;; 20.
birthday;; November 5.
class;; Maculosus.

life has thrown me

likes;;
xx running.
xx sports.
xx boxing.
xx loud music.
xx the guitar.
xx late nights.
xx sleep.
xx scars.
xx being left alone.
xx soup.
xx fried food.
xx cigarettes.
xx new moons.
xx hard liquor.
xx sex.
xx breaking rules.
xx stickin’ it to the man.
xx guys over girls.
xx being right.
dislikes;;
xx upper classes.
xx little kids.
xx rich kids especially.
xx sympathy.
xx whiners.
xx the pass system.
xx the whole system.
xx being a werewolf.
xx losing fights.
xx forgetting things.
xx being late because of other people.
xx sweet food.
xx Indian cuisine.
xx stupid questions.
xx super talkative people.
xx being hit on by ugly people.
xx people butting in on her conversations.
xx full moons.
xx weak drinks.
xx weak people.
dreams;;
xx small victories being enough.
xx not having to work so hard.
xx being rewarded somehow for something.
fears;;
xx commitment.
xx closed windows with no curtains at night.
xx death.

personality;; Did you ever meet that kid? That angry kid who could’ve been so awesome in another life, who’s fighting every day and screaming at the glass ceiling when it can't hear them and trying to find the right way when it’s all wrong? Yeah, Lena used to be that kid. Lena was always the one questioning authority, breaking the rules and getting into trouble. She was the one who would’ve done very well in America during the 1960s. Fiery and intelligent, Lena’s been stickin’ it to the Man since before she was old enough to grasp the concept.

Today? Lena’s that kid, grown up, which basically means more responsible and about ten times as cynical. Where the child cries out at injustice, the adult has become used to injustice as a reliable certainty in life, and assumes a silent, if bitter mask for society while finding private ways to defy the social order. Lena has a very practical, down-to-earth view of things—and the view from here doesn’t stretch very far in Lena’s life. She isn’t interested in debating it or changing it anymore, because time and time again it’s been proven that she can’t. Powers larger than her constantly remind her of this truth. There is no where for Lena’s life to go to, and as such Lena has turned her life toward taking what she can day to day.

They say at the heart of every cynic is a disappointed idealist. Spot-on here. A wealthy equivalent of Lena at age thirteen would have been the sign-waving, sheltered hippy kid shocked at the slightest prejudice. Years of disappointment after disappointment turned Lena into the harsh, cynical woman she is today. Things going well is just something Lena isn’t used to or trusting of. Everything being peachy is one of the clearest indicators of inauthenticity.

Anyone who knows Lena really well can tell you that two words to sum her up could be “if only.” Lena is extremely intelligent and a very fast learner, and she could have been an immensely successful student if she had ever gone to school. Lena could have gone on to do great things, perhaps. She could have been articulate, sophisticated, even witty. Instead, Lena often comes across as ignorant, brash, and callous. Crass as any sailor, Lena fits in better with the male crowd than the female one.

Which brings us to another prominent trait in Lena. She’s strong, both mentally and physically, and knows it in both senses. A lifetime spent taking crap has made her very unkind to people who give her any kind of problems. Even if Lena has a decent hold on her emotions (meaning no, she does not have anger management problems, thank you) she is what you could call quite violent. Lena pretty much raised herself, which means in part that the only reason Lena has for not doing anything is that there’s no reason to, not that it’s wrong, so if at any time she feels like there’s a reason to, Lena doesn’t see the problem with punching someone in the nose.

Miss Peakes is undoubtedly a pervert. Now, she doesn’t make a habit of sleeping with every guy she sees, because she just doesn’t feel like it, but she certainly rides on the gritty side of humor. Lena doesn’t have the most sensitive conscience. In fact, it’s practically nonexistent. She has no qualms breaking the law for any reason, so if you need someone to help you out with something, Lena’s your guy as long as you offer some incentive.

the past can't be rewritten

mother;; Catrina “Cathy” Peakes (nee Dunas.)
relationship;; “I don’t remember my mom. I know she died when I was a kid, too young, but Dad never talked about her. I think he killed her on one o’ those nights.”

father;; William “Bill” Peakes.
relationship;; “Me ‘n my dad don’t talk. He has this big alpha male thing goin’ and it pisses me off. Besides. We’re both better off.”

history;; This young bitter pill was born Lena Sophia Peakes to parents William and Cathy Peakes some twenty years ago on the Isle of Stralizia. Cathy, a young Greek half blood and Bill, a complicated werewolf youth with borderline antisocial personality, always made a good couple. Both born and raised Maculosus, there was no other possible lifestyle choice for either of them. Cathy was a fiery young woman whose natural talent for arithmancy and runes was wasted on being a clerk at the Stralizia grocery store, and Bill mostly worked wherever he could get a job. Lena spent her time as a baby at either of her parents jobs, since they had neither the money nor the friends/family to get some other form of childcare. Cathy got in a fair few fights with her employer about this, since it was always easier for Cathy to take care of Lena during the day than it was for Bill, due to her more stationary job.

Cathy died one night, though, when Lena was two years old, because Bill had made the mistake of getting drunk before leaving the house for the evening. Cathy came home to a husband in the throes of a painful transformation, without any hope for a Wolfsbane potion (they never had the money). Somehow or another she attracted his attention and she was killed. Bill would spend years trying to distance himself from that night, and never spoke of it to Lena. The only time Lena asked how her mother had died, Bill took her by the arm and told her very sharply that her mother was dead, and that was that. It was always clear that it caused Bill pain, though.

Lena always sensed there was something wrong with the way they were forced to live. Every chance she got she made that apparent. There weren’t many people too willing to listen to her, of course. Any adults she ran up to as a kid just shoved her off like the next begging child. Lena managed to get a few neighborhood kids together one time when she was ten and they led a small protest on life in Stralizia, but there was no one who had any power to do anything around anyway, so it was more like a bunch of little kids yelling random things and parading around the streets. Lena didn’t really have too many friends as a kid. Even within the mostly Maculosus community Lena was usually the odd one out, because of her condition. Overall this means that Lena found ways to entertain herself—once she was old enough to walk and talk her dad thought it was okay to leave her alone—and even today Lena is not easily bored.

With nothing better to do a lot of the time, Lena’s first job as a kid was running messages back and forth between illiterate workers in the area. The really messed up thing was that being illiterate wasn’t that uncommon in Lena’s neighborhood. Lena herself didn’t learn to read and write until she was fourteen and getting ready to get her pass as an adult. When first entering the workforce as an adult, Lena wasn’t sure quite what to do. As a woman she couldn’t just pick up any heavy lifting job, because there were always men twice her size willing to do the same work. So, she weighed her options between desk job, prostitution, or primary unemployment with occasional odd jobs. Then, the decision was made for her when she got an offer for a job cage fighting at Joe’s pub. The money was better than any other occupation she could get (unless she somehow managed to get a generally high rate in prostitution, which wasn’t too likely.) She’s been there three years now.

chances i just threw away

alumnus school;; N/A
alumnus house;; N/A
place of employment;; They call it Joe’s.
previous places of employment;; N/A.
feelings on career/job;; “I’m a cage fighter. I get paid more on full moons ‘cause dumb fuckers get extra kicks out of fightin’ me like that. Money’s good but it kinda sucks ‘cause on full moon nights I wake up wherever I got left if I lost or wherever I crashed if I won.”

lessons learned

your name/alias;; signe.
rp experience;; four years.
what can you tell me? Rachel likes Paris Hilton’s doggy?
rp sample;;
QUOTE
Vikki Frobisher hated her cat.  Fricking stupid idiotic crackhead moron cat.  Okay, she didn't really hate her cat, but that was beside the point.  The thing had started parading up and down her sleeping body and woke her up, so that was reason enough to hate the excessively cute and sweet animal, wasn't it?  No?  Who asked you, anyway?  Vikki was now thoroughly awake and in no mood to change that, and it was around two-thirty in the morning.  Ruddy cat...  And now she wanted Vikki to pet her.  Ah well...

Before Vikki knew what she was doing, a rumble in her stomach had her pulling on a pair of trainers and climbing out of the Gryffindor portrait hole.  Eyes well adjusted to the dark guided her down stairs and around corners of Hogwarts.  At one time Vikki might have been afraid of the various horrors being out of bed after hours could yield: an encounter with Peeves, a harsh round of detentions from some foul-mood bearing professor, points deducted, getting lost... but when there were so many worse things that could happen in the world, Vikki really couldn't bring herself to care what happened.  And anyway, now that there was no Snape, nothing any professor decided to do to her would likely be worse than the year before last.  Vikki hadn't been permanently scarred by Umbridge's pen, but she'd had a couple detentions where it was used and had friends who had been scarred.

Anyway, any points she lost Gryffindor were definitely worth what she would get from the kitchens below the ground floor (anyone would agree that anything made by the Hogwarts elves was worth a few points)  Vikki felt bad about the house elves who toiled day and night, but if they were happy, why shouldn't she be?

Vikki shivered in the drafty castle.  She was starting to wish she'd put on more than a long-sleeved muggle shirt and jeans before skipping out of Gryffindor tower.  As she climbed down her last flight of stairs the temperature dropped further and she hurried along on her small feet, anxious for the warmth that she would find in the kitchens.  When finally she came to a huge portrait of a bowl of fruit, a satisfied smile found its way onto her features, and she tickled the pear with a practiced hand.  The portrait swung open, and Vikki entered the kitchen to find herself immediately swamped with house elves asking what they could do for her.

Smiling, Vikki asked for just a small snack, knowing that whatever they brought would be excellent.  Sure enough, a silver tray with a pot of Earl Grey and some biscuits was carried to her immediately.  Once she was situated, the house elves went back to their business, every once in a while coming over to where she was seated to ask if she needed anything else.  Vikki sipped her tea after adding some milk and way too much sugar.  Perfect.

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