Out of Character:
Name: Timmy
Gender: Male
Age: 20
How you found Potter's Army: Through the RPG
Directory
Any other characters on Potter's Army: None
Anything else: n/a
In Character
Name: Samuel Dean Peterson
Nicknames: Sam; Sammy
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Year AND Age: Year 1 - 10
Preferred houses: No Preference.
Birthday: December 22
Canon or Original: Original
Play-by: n/a
Blood Status: Muggle Born
Height: 5'3"
Hair: Black (Dark Brown, really), short, and straight
Eye colour: Hazel
Skin: Light Brown
Other distinguishing features: n/a
Personality: Sam is in short a lone wolf. Having
never gotten along with the other children at the muggle school he grew up at, and being constantly put down by his siblings, he found it was just easier to keep to himself. Although intelligent, Samuel is very self-conscious, and too shy to show off his gift – a result of his much older siblings and his mother’s coddling. The young, scrawny boy often feels slighted by God, and harbours an underlying anger because of this. At his heart though, he may give off a cold and indifferent persona a result of his deep-rooted paranoia, he is still kind and continues to hold the naivety that youth provides.
Skills:
Intelligent
Perceptive
Resourceful
Empathetic
Loyal
Courageous
Ambitious
Weaknesses:
Paranoid
Self Conscious
Physically Weak
A Loner
Naive
Impatient
Rash
Competitive
Likes:
Reading
Adventures
To Succeed (having the best grade, winning at a game, etc.)
Being on his own
Dislikes:
People, or more accurately Strangers – because he feels he
can’t trust them
Waiting
Attention
Motto: (Optional.)
Family Information: Sam is the youngest of three. His
brother and sister both dwarf him in age, his sister being 22, and his brother,19. His father died shortly after his 5th birthday, in a car
accident, and so his mother was left to raise him on her own. As a result, he is very close with her, and really she’s been the only person he’s been
comfortable with in his entire life.
Background: Born in the Toronto area of Ontario, Canada. Sam was still barely an infant when his father died and he was uprooted to England, in order to live with his mother’s family. He grew to dislike his aunts and uncles – they mocked his accent, which remained Canadian – and resent
his father – as his death prompted the move. His accent was the source of many problems, at school the other children picked on him because he was a foreigner and he ended up getting into daily fights. An outcast of his society, he grew hardened and resilient to the insults and jeers and slowly faded into mild obscurity as he grew older. After his 5th year of school, the fights had lessened considerably- down to once or twice a month – and a certain letter brought hope, that he might escape them forever.
Short Roleplay:
A hard fist cracked across Sam’s jaw, dropping him to the
ground. The boy that stood above him smiled sadistically while the cronies
behind him, stifled their laughter. Much of the Summer had gone this way this year. Sam’s resistance to the insults had been shattered by a more recent development in his life.
His brother, James, had flunked out of his second year at
university and that information had somehow spread quickly around their little, suburban neighbourhood. The new taunts, “You’re brother is a loser just like your dead dad” and the like, had forced Sam’s hand into retaliating. A stupid mistake, one that he regretted as he’d been outnumbered four to one.
“So, Sammy,” the boy sneered, “have enough yet?”
Samuel knew they wouldn’t stop regardless of his response;
instead he stared at his attacker defiantly, admiring the dark purple bruise he had caused before he’d been ambushed. He raised the middle finger on his right hand, making a rude gesture. The boy responded by stomping down on his stomach.
Sam groaned painfully, he knew that was going to cost him.
The boy had gripped his hair and was forcing him to his feet. His fat attacker was breathing rapidly, as he struggled to keep his muscles supplied with oxygen. He shoved the boy into one of his friends.
“Jordan,” he said through his breaths, “throw this piece of garbage out, I’m done with him. Come on guys.”
The young, black, athletic male named Jordan Johnson nodded
as he turned to Sam. He gave an almost imperceptible, sympathetic smile, before digging his fist into Sam’s gut, causing the frail boy to fall to his knees. At the same time, Sam knew he had held back. He looked up to see the boy watching his friends leave, when they did he held out his hand to help Sam up.
“Sorry about that man,” Jordan said embarrassed, “but you should know not to mess with Tyler and them by now.”
Sam slapped the boy’s hand away, “Screw you,” he muttered
“Aw come on, man,” J.J said, “you know I ain’t mean it.”
Sam turned his back to Jordan and began to hobble away, “All I know is you don’t have the balls to stand up for yourself.”
He ducked under the rock Jordan threw in anger and began to
sprint, as best he could, home. Jordan wouldn’t chase him, he was too
soft-hearted for that, but he wanted to get cleaned up before he was seen by his mom regardless.
After a few moments, he heard a familiar voice cry out for
his name , and turned his head, muttering a swear word under his breath. He turned his head and his eyes confirmed what his ears already knew, he’d been caught.
“Hey bro,” he said somberly.
“Hey, yourself,” James replied a grin on his face as he peered out his car’s window,” got the shit kicked out of you again, eh? Mom’s not gonna be happy. I mean how stupid can you get? Picking fights with the same guys all the time? You ought to know better.”
“I don’t start the fights, James.” He said angrily, eyes burning intensily.
“Sure you don’t,” his brother mocked. “You look like you want to kick my ass right now.” James laughed, “Hell I was going to give you a ride, but I changed my mind. See you at home little bro.”
“Whatever,” he replied indifferently and calmly, hoping his brother would change his mind. He didn’t.
Sam heard James’ laughter as he sped off, and rolled his
eyes. How stupid was he?! What did his brother think – he enjoyed getting beat up on a regular basis. He muttered angrily to himself as he walked, what had he done to deserve this?
(I was going to write more – but this should suffice as a short sample.)
Last edited by Samuel Peterson on Wed Oct 07, 2009 11:40 am; edited 2 times in total
by Guest Mon Oct 05, 2009 4:58 pm
