SINCLAIR, genevieve acacia

[genevieve]

GENEVIEVE ACACIA SINCLAIR

||what do you see when you look at me [/font]

Name/Alias: Claire
Age: Twenty
RP Experience: Eight years, give or take.
How Did You Found Us: Ad hopping.
How Much Time Do You Plan To Spend Here Per Week: As much as possible.
Other Characters: None as of yet.

||you say you know me [/font]

Character's Full Name: Genevieve Acacia Sinclair
Nicknames: She detests petnames.
Age: Seventeen
Year: Seventh
Canon or Original: Original
House: Slytherin
Birthday: September 14th, 1959.
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Blood Status: Half Blood

||still you've got no clue [/font]

x x

Play By: Claire Danes

Appearance: There are very few things in such a broken world that one might deem ‘beautiful’. In fact, there seems to exist nothing of the sort amongst the rubble and ruin that lay haphazardly in all directions. Waste – all of it – for miles it lays in all of its deformity, and so if there had been anything sublime to speak of; it was tarnished by the ugliness of the war-torn city. Genevieve, the name that ironically bears the recognition of ‘fair of face’ personifies instead the intense darkness of the home that has since collapsed around her. It was as though she were purposely sculpted to reflect the disaster and bleakness that now wholly consumed a place that had been so full of vivid colour and resilient spirit. One notable difference that separates these similarities however, is the fact that – for all of her gravity, there is no bleakness to speak of. In fact, the most appropriate way to describe her striking countenance would be to say that she bears quite a great deal of volume. A horrific refinement so utterly arresting that simply looking upon her is a beautiful agony.

With a heritage as rich as the Sinclair’s, it came as a surprise – albeit not an unpleasant one – that Genevieve had inherited none of the stereotypical features associated with any aspect of either of her ethnicities. Instead she conveys something of a romanesque profile, limbs abnormally long and thin; comparable to delicate bone-china liable to shatter into a hundred pieces upon the gentlest of persuasions. Her height, although it adds an air of superiority and regality, has lessened the evidence of feminine curves and steep dips commonly related to young girls her age. Unfortunately this also includes the coveted supple breasts that stand as a prevalent and sought after feature, standing as something of a landmark of womanhood. Despite her boyish figure however, it would be quiet a feat to deny that she has an enviable grace about her. Rhythmical in the way she moves and elegant in every sense of the word, Genevieve carries herself in a fashion reminiscent of a queen amongst her humble subjects. Subtle gestures such as the lift of her chin and the perfected frown upon her lips are expressed artistically to demonstrate as much, expressed almost artistically across the haunted pallor of her sharp, dramatic features.

Perhaps her most startling feature, the colour of Genevieve’s eyes stand as a metallic inky blue-green so dark it appears black at a distance, echoing the hue of the center of brittle sapphires dug from the deepest crevices the moist underground. Fringed in long, almost ornamental lashes which break like a wave across her cheek, and startling against the ashen colour of her skin, they carry the weight of her emotions within their mysterious depths. Many people have remarked that her slender nose and rosebud lips resemble that of a porcelain doll’s, eerily flawless in their placement and never giving anything away; such small details are all excruciatingly symmetrical so that staring at her for too long may cause one to wonder whether she’s alive or simply a life-size statue of alabaster and ivory. Sunken, shadowed contours, exquisite bone structure, high sweeping cheekbones and a pointed jaw do well to reflect the aristocracy coursing through her veins, rarely painted or made up in anything more than lotion and a dab of perfume.

It should also be noted, there is no uncanny resemblance to her parents, much to their dismay, save for the swirl of glossy golden curls which spill unbound over her small, sloping shoulders. It was the same blackness of her mother and grandmother’s hair before her, groomed with great care and left long and always loose, it stands as the only source of femininity about her person, occasionally dressed up in ribbons and ceramic combs.
Lastly, as it isn’t quite so relevant as some might assume it to be; Genevieve’s attire is very simply put, tidy. The cloth is as expensive as one family would dare to invest in and custom-made to suit her awkward figure, or lack of one. Corduroy, suede, silk, stiff jackets and ties compile the extent of her wardrobe, and perhaps is somewhat more masculine than one would expect from a young lady her age. Pearls are her gemstone of choice before diamonds and she adamantly refuses heels save for special occasions.

Overall, roguish, intense, dark and mysterious are all attributes that would fittingly describe this peculiarity of the Sinclair lineage. Yet for all of her outward flaws there is a commanding aura that surrounds her, beckoning for one to venture closer and take a better look. Not all is what it seems after all, and though her features are much too hard and foreboding to be compared to the softness of her siblings’, there is no doubt that she possesses an eloquence left forgotten and underappreciated.

||off all the things that I can do[/font]

Likes:

| renaissance period art
| marble sculptures
| teardrop earrings and diamond bracelets
| dark chocolate
| intelligent conversation
| gambling
| surprises
| harmless banter
| scandals and secrets
| the thrill of being chased
| spontaneity
| adrenaline rush
| being the center of attention
| being admired
| scented candles
| assertive men
| cleanliness
| embracing the unexpected
| change
| classical music
| the piano and violin
| symphony orchestras
| rough foreplay
| the ocean
| holidays
| keeping herself busy
| crystal chandeliers
| a job well done
| money

Dislike:

| relying on others
| feeling helpless
| chocolate frogs
| gardening
| misconceptions about herself
| the cliché
| feeling unprepared
| failure
| disappointing others
| having to apologize
| pushovers
| untidiness
| anything with more than four legs
| her middle name
| being treated like garbage
| being looked down upon
| being manhandled
| the winter
| champagne or wine
| house stereotyping
| heartache
| admitting to her flaws
| the smell of fish
| having her freedom threatened
| anyone who threatens her family
| human weakness
| backstabbers and betrayal

Strengths:

| intelligent
| resourceful
| determined
| passionate

Weaknesses:

| emotionless
| unpredictable
| sarcastic
| secretive

Boggart: Her mother, hurt or dead.
Patronus: Songbird

Personality: Very few people in the world know exactly what it is they want. Even less are motivated enough that they will stop at nothing until they have achieved whatever it is they so fervently desire. Or perhaps it isn’t simply a matter of motivation; perhaps it’s a psychological mosaic of courage, desperation, self-deception and a materialistic, shallow undertone that no one seems particularly fond of admitting to having stroked. There is an embarrassment that greed often leaves in its wake, troubling even to those of supposedly admirable morals. Seldom does anyone step up and accept their indulgence for what it is. Considered wholly by society as one of many carnal sins, over-eager consumption is looked down upon so severely that there is a fear of social exile. Someone like Genevieve Acacia Sinclair therefore comes as an unpleasant surprise to the rest of these misguided fools, and offers no apologies for whatever painful truth she may bring recognition to.

Reasonably one could label her the perfect exemplification of what it entails to be ‘aloof’. Calculating, manipulative, intent on satisfying her needs and her needs alone, it isn’t difficult to see that she fits the bill nicely. What remains, whether purposely or otherwise, ignored however in the case of Genevieve, are the numerous other qualities – maybe not as glamorous as those aforementioned few – but certainly factors that influence her individuality. For that is what she is, an individual. Unique in her own right and quite mindful of it. The traits that personify those like her only scratch upon the surface of who she is and even allude to unfair stereotypes and judgments for so long placed upon the shoulders of the students who share similar values.

Genevieve may not be the kindest, nor most generous person but she is unquestionably loyal to those who have earned her trust. In their company she is as harmless as a newborn kitten and speaks with as much respect as she would a Professor or colleague. Her only confidants in a school of traitors, she is careful to keep them close and would make great sacrifices to ensure their happiness. And like any teenage girl, you can expect her to be much more at ease amongst them than, say, a group of giggling strangers. Fun-loving and with an insatiable longing to be in the spotlight, Genevieve knows how to have a good time and used to frequent late-night Quidditch parties held in the castle’s north towers, as well as other less-than-legal ‘functions’ at some underground pubs in London during the summer. Because the atmosphere was so sombre at home, Genevieve looked to make the most of the many months she spends at school, having wracked up quite a reputation over the course of her years in attendance. Despite her parents’ ineptness when it comes to expressing themselves through anything but frowns and narrowed eyebrows, it seems their only daughter picked up on the art of persuasion and socializing quickly. Able to mingle easily amongst even a large group of people, it isn’t difficult for her to adopt a feigned look of pleasant surprise at a moment’s whim. This has proven very useful, specifically at her mother’s garden parties or her father’s business luncheons when there are valuable impressions to be made and future connections to be gained.

What may come as the greatest surprise to most people about Genevieve is the fact that, though she is somewhat promiscuous, she does not make it a habit to sleep with just anyone who offers it freely. In fact she holds herself and her reputation in high-esteem and would never see it tarnished by such a vulgar means. Of course as a fairly attractive girl with ample curves and a brilliant smile it’s no wonder she’s taught herself to use her body to get places, but only by employing a more tactful, respectable approach than most other girls can claim. The Sinclair women were all born and bred to be proper, Pureblooded ladies and so that same responsibility and expectation has fallen to Genevieve. Being the only girl of two children, it is her duty to ensure their generation carries on the decorous, dignified manner of the ladies of her family name. Still, there are occasions when she allows herself to succumb to the wanton desires of hormonal teenage boys and has even been caught once or twice after curfew, engaged in less than appropriate ‘pastimes’ which has subsequently caused her much grief at home.

Contrary to her picture perfect behaviour in the effort to please her parents, Genevieve can also be as terrible as the words ‘callous pregnant dog’ paints her sort to be. Devious and easily jealous, it wouldn’t be considered a stretch for her to seek revenge on anyone who has crossed her. Wrathful and possessive, this could apply to anything that she believes ‘belongs’ to her in any way. Though she would never go so far as to actually harming anyone – she prefers to allow others to get their hands dirty, so to speak – Genevieve is normally the brains behind these vengeful operations. Something of a perfectionist, she will remain on the sidelines until everything has been carried out in exact detail. One mistake and prepare for a lengthily scolding. One thing Genevieve can’t stand is failure, whether by herself or someone else, being showed up by anyone is one of her largest pet peeves, faithful in her proficiency at seeing things through to the very end with favorable results. It is acknowledged even by herself that she is a sore loser and though she may curse and scream for a good while, Genevieve refuses to pout or sulk about it. Whining raises the hairs on the back of her neck. Such childish behaviour is beyond her and able to cause the girl to snap from the sheer frustration of having to listen to it. It is in this regard she is able to understand where even Muggle parents are coming from when they deny their children a lolly and then smack their bottoms when the little thing begins to cry shrilly its refusal.

And though many of her sort are made out to be pathological liars, Genevieve avoids doing so as often as possible. The more lies that are spun the likelier and likelier you are apt to getting caught up in the tales. Because she is so fearful of being outwitted, she strays from telling too many fibs and instead looks to exaggeration as a more effective tool.
One of Genevieve’s more interesting quirks is the enjoyment and fulfillment she receives from playing ‘cat and mouse’. After discovering someone who can play mind-games as well as she can, it’s only a matter of time before she puts up a challenge. Though this behaviour is mostly reserved for men, it is not out of the ordinary to see her doing the same for other girls – particularly those from her own house house. Because they tend to be very intelligent and quick on their feet, they’re usually a safe bet for a little bit of ‘fun’. Though she finds delight in learning new things each day, it seems her thirst for power and influence is more a priority than expanding her knowledge. More ‘street smart’ per say than ‘book savvy’ she has enough common sense to see her through and in her opinion, that’s all that matters.

Determined and aggressive, you won’t see her back down very often. Every bit as cold-hearted on the outside, you’ll also find yourself hardpressed to be the audience of her softer, sensitive side unless you’ve been taken into her circle of comrades. Though it isn’t easily noticeable she has a good heart that has just been broken and patched up too many times to function properly. A fallen angel who doesn’t count on her lucky stars anymore, Genevieve Sinclair is sure to leave a lasting impression.

||history may repeat itself [/font]

Father: Sebastian Sinclair
Mother: Melania Sinclair
Siblings: Gregory Sinclair
Other Family:

History: Love is an unpredictable thing. Intertwined with fate, it seems an almost impossible outcome to predict. Some discover it, some don’t … and whether others prefer to live without it, there’s no escaping it when it so chooses them. For Sebastian Sinclair, it had been a completely uncontrollable aspect in his life. A naturally hard man, there were very few who loved him. Many respected him of course, but it would prove to be a difficult task to honestly say that they loved him. His own mother and father had been strict and oftentimes overbearing. Hard work was what they lived by, with very little to no time to relax and enjoy one another’s company. Of course Sebastian himself might attest to the fact that even if they did take that time, enjoyment wouldn’t exactly be the result. Living in France, the majority of his childhood, he was attended to by a private tutor and schooled in magic far beyond the average age of those in the United Kingdom. There were also rigorous endurance tests to challenge the mind as well as the body, with the generation very much focused on honing the entirety of one’s self as opposed only to one side or the other.

Another year passed slowly and Sebastian was officially an adult. No longer was he obligated to abide by his parents’ wishes, but surprisingly, marriage was not on his mind. During that year he’d pushed himself harder than he ever had in an effort to forget about the only woman he’d ever loved. He’d lost himself in the process until all that he could think about was establishing a place for himself away from the security of his father and mother’s influence. He wanted to do it on his own and so ended up immigrating to Britain, taking up permanent residence there and quickly finding work in the Ministry. Because of his reputation and flawless academic history, he was spotted quickly and referred to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement by the man who would become his senior. They became close friends from there, and some even venture so far as to say that this friendship was the cause for Sebastian’s turn for the worse.

Melania Peters had always been a sweet young thing. Full of energy and reared by a grandmother who pampered her to her heart’s content; it wasn’t a surprise she grew to expect to always be seated in the lap of luxury. Initially she wasn’t particularly interested in her studies, and had to be quickly broken of this rebellious attitude. However she continued to mature with age and grew to be the lady her demanding mother expected. Because her father owned large corporations overseas, she rarely saw him but it concerned her very little. Over time she was allowed to attend her mother’s social soirees, paraded about much like a prized poodle with ribbons in her hair and a fake smile across her lips. Eventually she was even able to run some of them on her own, and grew to be respected and admired for her beauty and charm by many of high-society’s wealthier ladies. In fact it was at one of these parties Sebastian and Melania first laid eyes upon one another. One of the younger cousins had convinced him to go and he had agreed. Sparks flew the moment they were introduced. In his eyes, she was Britain’s princess, all golden hair and long, delicate limbs and he was her French rogue; dark hair, swarthy skin and a thick brogue which was beginning to acclaim some British feel. It didn’t help that they were both young and ambitious with all the time in the world at their disposal. One thing led to another and as most might assume, fate decided to make its arrival. It was just as shocking to note that Sebastian’s parents had approved of the union to begin with, considering Melania was indeed a half-blood. Still, she was respectable and it made him happy .. and that’s all that mattered.

First it was Genevieve, and the proud parents were happy. However with their businesses flourishing and Sebastian’s work more demanding than ever, there was no desire for any more children. These things happen however; passion overcomes sense and one night after a long drawn-out argument, newly wedded Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair conceived what he would at least soon consider a mistake.
It was true, for a long time Genevieve was nothing but a liability to Sebastian. With little respect to spare for women save for the pleasure their bodies elicited, they were nothing. However, astoundingly, it was he she took after and a mutual respect settled between them.

Concerning the relationship she had with the younger brother that eventually made his way into their lives, it was vague and really nothing special. There were always points of tension between the two however. This might have been due to the fact that Genevieve was older and wiser than and not quite as spontaneous as her younger counterpart. Gregory – the young boy – was understandably upset when Genevieve accepted her invitation to Hogwarts. At first it had been Beauxbatons she’d been interested in, and her father would have supported it whole-heartedly had he not had his heart set on having his oldest daughter join the Ministry upon graduation, and living in France would have made that impossible.

She proved herself to be an ideal student, content and kind despite the notoriously pregnant dogy reputation that seemed to trail her everywhere. She’d lost a few friends along the way, but it wasn’t until mid second year when she began to change. Her current companions speculate it was due to the revelation of her father’s long-term affair and the night he – reportedly – man handled Melania. It was shocking to everyone who knew about it that she didn’t file for divorce. But how could she? He was everything to her. Besides, she vowed she still loved him even if he no longer reciprocated the same. She believed she could change him and so life went on as normal as possible with her brother playing stupid. It seemed to affect the Sinclair daughter the most, to see her mother in such a troubled state. It seems now she has taken to distracting herself by doing exactly as her father had done, pushing herself to do better than her best in order to please her mother and bring her some joy, as well as throw herself into the social scene and ensure that people remember her name.

Things are fast-paced for Genevieve with very little certainty as to where exactly she’ll end up.
Of course, there never really is a guarantee as to how things will end. She just hopes it was all worth it.

||at least I've got skills[/font]

RP Sample: There was something to be said about Hogwarts when the afternoon rush had dissipated and the students retired to their respective Common Rooms. Suddenly everything was quiet, everything was peaceful and Genevieve Sinclair – perhaps one of the most irritable students in the whole of the school – was in particularly good spirits. It reminded her of the days her father had left to travel across the country for the sake of various business endeavours, or so he’d referred to them as such. The atmosphere seemed to become that much more relaxed once he’d gone. Genevieve herself had always suspected he’d been running off to enjoy a few evenings in the company of a younger witch who wasn’t her mother. Whether Melania had been aware of his infidelity before he’d actually confessed to it she did not know. The woman wasn’t exactly the most intuitive sort, unless of course it came to what set of expensive dishes to use for their next dinner party or which colour slippers best matched the gown she would wear that day. Often she found it horrifying that she could be related to someone so naïve and witless, a stark contrast to her aggressive and astute father. And then she remembered that most Pureblooded women were destined to revert to the dreary existence of a mindless trophy wife, no matter the potential they possessed upon graduating from school. It was as though any talents they’d been blessed with were suddenly considered void, forced to be cast aside in favour of a housewife’s domestic essentials. Still, it surprised her to be comparing the empty hallways with the Sinclair manor, as the two were quite different in a single most important way. Within one she felt comfortable and capable, while the other provided her with nothing but reasons to resent the very people she should have loved and trusted. How could such places be in any way similar then, aside from the sudden quiet?

Most lazy subjects inhabiting the elaborate portraits which hung in cluttered masses upon the walls barely stirred as the tall Slytherin passed by, slender hand running along the smooth stone railing of the staircase as she continued to climb steadily towards the platform. With thoughts of home swirling mercilessly about her head, she found herself nearly veering off in completely the wrong direction. She wasn’t normally someone who roamed so aimlessly about the corridors, her attention wandering from one matter to the next without really focusing on it long enough to come to a plausible solution. And yet that seemed to be the case for the past several weeks. Often Genevieve found herself lounging upon one of the sofas in the Common Room simply brooding, waving off the curiosity of anyone who inquired as to her strange behaviour. She had no answers, and that fact alone infuriated her. If there was one thing she hated, it was feeling lost or losing her sense of direction and purpose. Constantly living by strict schedules and set regimes, it felt awkward to be stumbling through her days without really knowing what she was supposed to be accomplishing. There were classes to attend of course, lessons from which she was supposed to be deriving some form of learning, but it simply wasn’t enough to keep the restlessness at bay. Once or twice she’d figured it had something to do with the fact that she was in her final year. Graduation was looming not too far in the near future and would be arriving before she had the chance to fully register, much less appreciate it. Was it the expectation to do something great before her time in Hogwarts came to its end? A desire to make a name for herself; establish some personal landmark in the hopes that her mere existence had meant something … had been at all significant?

Genevieve may have been determined and passionate about the course and arrangement of her life, but she was also realistic. Hogwarts had only acted as a stepping stone towards bigger and better opportunities that would come later. At the present time however her capabilities meant nothing and only extended so far, but there was a hunger that grew more pronounced with each passing day. That had to count for something.

The girl’s two front teeth snagged upon her bottom lip then as she glimpsed the darkening sky through one of the nearby foggy windows. She’d never taken into account how massive the entrance hall was until she viewed it without the usual congregation of students milling about in a less-than-orderly fashion. ‘Impressive’ would be putting it mildly in any case, considering the high vaulted ceilings and ornate wooden doors. Everything about the style and architecture of the castle had been executed with an eye for detail. To be honest, she found herself gaining some measure of respect for the people that had originated the establishment.
Curfew would officially be set within a few minutes, but the distracted brunette decided to take her time as she proceeded to saunter through the desolate dungeon passage at a relatively casual pace. It was as she approached the entrance to what many regarded as ‘the snake pit’ that she heard a bit of scuffling coming from a normally deserted storage room. Quirking a slender brow at this unexpected disruption, Genevieve slowed to a halt alongside the door. Having been left slightly ajar, she peered inside, unable to see much else besides a shapely figure shrouded by shadow. Instead of leaving it be like any reasonable person would however, she sighed heavily and shoved the door open to the fullest extent. Assuming it was simply two hormonal teenagers finishing up a quick shag, she flicked her wand uninterestedly with the intent to shed some light on the faceless couple.

Or person, considering she could only make out one form.
A desperate, lonely young bloke who hadn’t found the privacy to wank off in the dormitories perhaps.

“A storage closet? How dreadfully unoriginal.”

[narcissa acardia black||]

Accepted!