SEAN JAMIESON WHITEFOOT [accepted]

[SEAN "SPRUCE" WHITEFOOT]

listen to each drop of rain;;

lumos;;

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If your character is an adult...
occupation: (Aspires to be a professional Quidditch player)

If your character is a student...
house: Hufflepuff

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whispering secrets in vain;;

alohomora;;

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name(s): Sean Jamieson Whitefoot
birth date/age: 16 yrs, April 1st, 1996
heritage: Muggleborn
allegiance: Order of the Phoenix
place of birth: Ottawa, Canada
Wand Specs: 12 & 3/4ths, Spruce, Dragon Heartstring, bendy, good for transfigurations.
Pet: None Yet
Patronus: Brown Bear.
Position on the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team: Chaser

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frantically searching for someone to hear;;

protego;;

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eyes: Brown
hair: Black
height: 5'11
Scars/Distinguishing Marks? He has a nasty scar on the back of his head from a bludger in his 2nd year, but his hair covers it up for the most part. Sean also lost a tooth in his 4th year, had it 'regrown', lost it again in his 5th year, and had it regrown a second time. Hopefully it's the last time for that particular tooth. He has also broken a number of bones playing the sport he loves so much, but nothing the school nurse can't handle.

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their story before they hit ground;;

homenum revelio;;

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likes:
Quiddich (Favorite team: the Wailing Wendigos, a Canadian Team). Joke Books. Animals. Nature. Flying. The color green. Food (Just about any kind) and just about any sport. Loves Muggle Action Movies and Muggle Cars.
~*~
dislikes:
Bigots, Quitters, Cigarette smoke, people who are rude to Muggle-borns. Hates violin music, Potions Class, and unicorns/horses personally freak him out.
~*~
habits/mannerisms:
Spruce is usually always playing with something when he's talking, either tossing and catching a ball, twirling a quill or toying with whatever candy or piece of food he has in his hands. He's a little predictable when it comes to speaking, and rotated through a lot of catch phrases when younger. He has a habit of leaving his clothes wherever he removes them, i.e., the Hufflepuff locker room, he'll leave his hoodies and scarves and such in the Hufflepuff common room all the time.
~*~
strengths:
{Weirdly good at Wizard's Chess} {Quidditch Prodigy} {Extremely loyal, difficult to influence} {Difficult to put down, always optimistic and bright} {Sees things through to the end} {Polite and easy to get along with}
weaknesses: {Sometimes misses the obvious things.} {Doesn't hold a very high opinion of certain areas of academics} {Gets overly competitive} {Doesn't handle death or tragedy well} {Can sometimes be overly selfless, and forget to take care of his own needs or problems} {Sticks by his decisions, whether they're bad ones or not} {Thinks the best of the worst people}
~*~

personality:
If there was one possible comparison that could be made in regards to Spruce and anything else, every family member of his would probably liken him to a dog or some other happy animal with an intense loyal streak. Though he doesn't come off as smart - his bright facial expressions and personality tend to point towards a very dim light bulb in the intelligence department, but such is not the case - he actually has a good head on his shoulders. He thinks best when he's out doing something, and sometimes the perfect solutions come to him when he's not thinking at all - like playing quidditch or exploding snap or even browsing the joke shop in Hogsmeade - he's a little odd that way.

Something that's also startling, is how he can fail potions and need remedial lessons, and yet ace the Transfigurations quiz even without studying. To each his own, you could say; for some reason he was not given the attention span or even the memory needed to properly pour out ingredients and recall the proper measurements for this drought or this noxious cauldron full of...something. He's awful with potion names. He tends to just identify them by smell, which once again can be attributed to his dog-like personality.

He's more of a dog-bear, really, as Spruce tends to have a bit of a temper when he DOES, after many many many attempts to anger him, finally flip his lid. He grows moody and cranky and with the shortest temper imaginable, and had his grandfather been around him, he would've been given quite the smack in the back of the head for his attitude and his behavior. Fortunately, even though his highs are high and his lows are very grumpy lows, Sean tends to snap out of them fairly quickly.

Sean seems, for all the world, a happy guy who isn't out to be the greatest or the smartest, but still manages to stand apart from the crowd given his pleasant disposition and surprising intelligence. Of course, his extreme loyalty and brotherly behavior towards others then to make him very easy to get along with. Sean doesn't hate anyone or anything, he might distrust something, but despite all odds, he tends to avoid emotions such as loathing, hatred, and fear of the unknown regardless of whatever life throws at him.

Sean has very little understanding of girls, and while this goes beyond understanding the opposite sex, Sean CAN miss some of the more obvious signs of everything, and has always, always given people the benefit of the doubt. He can likely get very hurt that way, but that's just the way he is. He doesn't just live with his heart on his sleeve, he hands it to you on a silver platter with a ribbon around it. Still, knowing Sean "Spruce" Whitefoot, he'll bounce back, no matter what he has to crawl his way through.

~*~
strong areas of magic: Transfigurations, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures
weak areas of magic: Charms, Potions, Astronomy, Diviniations.

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can't we stay for a while;;

evanesco;;

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family:
Spruce has an older sister Kayla Whitefoot, who is currently employed as a herbalist. He has a younger brother in his 2nd year, a Gryffindor by the name of Dylan Whitefoot. His parents were Ravena Whitefoot and Jake Whitefoot, who were killed by a head-on collision with a drunk driver. He was raised by his grandfather, a muggle shaman referred to simply as "Grandfather".

background:
Jake and Ravena Whitefoot were muggles, and had absolutely no knowledge of the wizarding world and anything even closely related to magic. At the most, they could say Jake's grandfather was part of those 'unexplainable' things, considering he was the local shaman in the town they had both grown up in. Jake and Ravena had gotten out and made a name for themselves; Ravena was a nurse, Jake had actually finished getting his law degree by the time Kayla Whitefoot was born. Three years after their first child, Sean was born, and even at that age he was noted as being remarkably happy, as opposed to intelligent little Kayla, who seemed to develop and understand things rather quickly for her age.

It was shortly after their third son had had his 4th birthday, Dylan Whitefoot, that there was an accident. Jake and Ravena Whitefoot were killed when a drunk driver - behind the wheel of a semi truck, of all things - struck them head on while they were returning from the movies. The kids had been put to bed, and were under the careful watch of a trusted babysitter; there was nothing magical or destiny-related about the car crash. The car crash was not a cover up of something shady; sometimes bad things happen to good people.

With no other living relatives, 10 year old Kayla, 7 year old Sean, and 4 year old Dylan were sent to live with their grandfather back in the crappy little town Jake and Ravena had tried so hard to put behind them. Sean's older sister Kayla received her letter one year later, and the Whitefoots were plunged into a completely different world from that point on.

Three years after Kayla had gone on to become a Ravenclaw, that letter finally came for Sean, and at first there was some serious debate as to whether he would actually go or not. Sean personally couldn't wait, especially since he'd discovered the wonderful sport of Quidditch, but their grandfather was getting old, and that would leave only Dylan and Grandfather all to themselves. Kayla was still in school and couldn't come home to take care of either one of them; fortunately one of the neighbors, Mrs. Dunley stepped up, and Sean would come to thank her a few years later, because without her kindness, he probably wouldn't be where he is today.

It wasn't long before Sean was already having so many wonderful experiences; a ministry official came to help them with their shopping by the name of Ronald Weasley, who had quite a bit of valuable advice about Hogwarts, the staff, the students, etc. Sean soaked it up like the happy-go-lucky sponge he was at that age, and nearly drooled enough that an ark was necessary when he first caught sight of an actual racing broom. It wouldn't be until his second year that he acquired one, but it was another big shove towards what was going to be quite the lifelong love.

While on the Hogwarts train, it was natural for the incoming first years to want to chat with each other, get a feel for possible friends or enemies even before they'd crossed the lake in those little boats. It was during one such conversation - the subject of wands - that Sean was immediately singled out. Out of close to 50 incoming first years, Sean Jamieson Whitefoot was the only one with a wand made of spruce; that wasn't an uncommon wand wood, heck, his wand as a whole didn't seem all that unusual. Being the only kid out of the whole group of first years to have a spruce wand, however, kind of was. Thus he got the nickname of "Spruce", from being referred to as the "Spruce Kid" so many times by his future classmates. The name stuck, not that he minded. He was a nature-lover at heart, and he felt that a name like Spruce was perfectly fine.

Unlike many of the other students, Spruce did not show up at Hogwarts with a pet; he'd simply forgotten to get one, and never got around to it. Spruce was eventually sorted into Hufflepuff, joined the Quidditch team in his 2nd year, and the rest has been, as they say, history.

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it's just so hard to say goodbye;;

finite;;

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name/alias:Fawn or Fawny

rp example:
He came back in completely drenched in rain and spattered with mud. It was nothing a good shower couldn't take care of - but what soap and water couldn't rinse off, however, was the white-toothed grin he wore as though every day was Christmas. The incredible high and love of life he felt after flying was almost indescribable, not that anyone ever asked how he was feeling - they could see it, usually, written all over his face. Clutching an Infernos 2700 - the latest and fastest in racing brooms, of course - Sean excited the Hufflepuff locker rooms, barely able to tug on a hoodie and not let go of his broomstick at the same time. You'd think he was used to this same old song and dance, but no, Sean still managed to look a little awkward with one arm through his jacket and the other trying to tuck a broomstick up against his armpit and not hit himself with the bristles at the same time.

Eventually his uncoordinated little tango ended, and Sean was able to stroll merrily on his way - until he saw something out of the corners of his eyes that made his footsteps slow and his heartbeat race. Was that Rachel Langley and Bruce Millerstone? Er...awkward... It was especially awkward for Sean, who'd always been a little fond of Rachel; quickly averting his eyes, Sean chuckled uneasily to himself and picked up the pace. Nothing spelled lonely like watching two people swap spit - but that wasn't how he was feeling, really. On the contrary, Sean was quite, quite happy. Even if he was currently without that 'special other person', it didn't bother him. Why should it? He was passing most of his classes, he was on the quidditch team, his friends were still his friends, and nothing, as of yet, beat going back to the Hufflepuff Dormitories bone-tired from a hard day's practice.

"Hey Spruce! See you on Saturday's match, eh? Better bring your best!"

The words of Thomas Branagan had him glancing down the hallway, his automatic response a grin even before the lightly competitive words had reached him, and this grin lessened into a slightly more angled smirk. "You too Branagan! Let's hope you can stay on your broomstick this time, right?"

If Thomas responded, he didn't hear him - a natural sense of navigation had him turning to the left and down a hallway, the young man doing a little bit of wandering of his own despite subconsciously knowing exactly where he was going. Like a homing pigeon, Sean found himself in front of the portrait of the bowl of fruit near the kitchens. "Thunder Trout." He called, calmly and surely; the proper password given was rewarded with the portrait swinging open, and Sean, broomstick and all, disappeared into the hobbit-like common room that was purely Hufflepuff's.

Home sweet home, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

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[CASSANDRA SINCLAIR]

accepted!