Leila Engel

[Jacki]

ooc name: Jacki
character's name: Leila Maybelle Engel
character's age: 22
character's former house: Ravenclaw
occupation: Daily Prophet; Head of the Editorial.
how can we contact you?: email, [e-mail].
how you found us: Advertisement on the Harry Potter Dialogue Center.
maybe we'll find: Better Days.
sample:Hm... I have a sample from a letter-form rp that I think is good. However, if you rather I give a normal RP, then I will gladly supply one.


Hóla Ted,

I do hope you don't mind being bombarded by letters - I'm sure you are quite popular among the ladies by now; you always were such a gentleman. Vacationing in Spain proved to be one of the best decisions of my life (I'm sure you can tell by my astoundingly good Spanish - I've even learned how to ask where the bathroom is) and by far one of the most interesting trips I have ever taken. As it turns out, there is a muggle sport called bull fighting, which consists of a man dressed in tights and a curiously french-looking beret waving a red flag at a bull. It's quite amusing, especially when the man loses and is chased by the animal. A peculiar form of entertainment, but enjoyable nonetheless.

Oh yes! As I have been meaning to tell you - I finally found a nice job. At Hogwarts, too, of all places! Why, your almost-cousin who could never hold down a job - a teaching position! And you'll never guess what it is - it's bloody care of magical creatures! I barely even passed the subject, and they run up to me like ants to a picnic and practically beg on their knees for me to come teach there. I suppose it's since my dad was the "widely acclaimed grandson of the brilliant Newt Scamander" that I'll pass on some of his knowledge. Well, it's a load of bull if you ask me. I seemed to have gotten my knowledge on the subject from neither mum nor dad, which is downright unfair. Still, I suppose I could ramble on for hours about Crumble-Horned Snorcacks and nobody would care. Just sitting there. Staring at me. I'm so bloody gorgeous, aren't I? Ah, no. I bet it's the rainbow socks that Uncle Ron got me for Christmas last year. Despite the fact that I look like someone threw up a pack of skittles (a type of deliciously vulgar muggle candy) on my feet, they are quite comfortable. Teaching at Hogwarts should be a spot amusing, but I'll still have to come home early from Spain. Here's where I sigh in sadness... sigh. I'll miss the streets of Spain - the stench of fresh cra.p, stray mules that will kick your arse without warning, grossly overweight women with facial hair giving you grossly overpriced souvenir... sigh.

Let's see... I bet you're wondering about how Lorcan is doing. Well, I'm not, but I'll let you know anyways. He's still his same old self - womanizing. Clubbing. Getting drunk. Living with mum and dad; too much of a lazy arse to get himself a bloody job. Well, that's sort of the pot calling the kettle black, but I still can't stand him - I never could. Always getting the attention... outshining me... getting all the girls... the "normal" one... but now I'm rambling as well. Mum and dad are doing just fine. Mum just actually discovered a new species of... well, you'll read all about it in the Daily Prophet. You do still use the subscription I gave you for your eleventh birthday? It's good to keep up with current events. Dad's same as ever - he got a neat little Quidditch Pitch in our backyard. Not that it'll be any use to us, see, mum's never been one for Quidditch (except for commentating. Now, that's something), and dad and Lorcan has about as much athletic ability than you have in you're finger. And that's saying something. Me? I'll be too busy with my job. Ha. Haha. I laugh. Anyway... dad probably just got it to entertain his little buddies. More like mum's, but dad's too socially ambitious to care how much he mooches off of her reputation. Not that I don't mind having you guys over, it's just that dad's a little bit... I don't know how to explain it. But you know what I'm talking about, right? Ah, I'm so glad to have my own little flat. Even though Wales has worse weather than England does - hard to believe, right?

I've been talking about myself way too much. So selfish. Bad, bad Lysander. Sigh. So, now some stuff about you. Still living with Granny Dory? Uncle Harry? All by yourself? Maybe with... Victoire? I heard you guys were getting a little friendly, but that might have been a rumor... you never know. Are you getting bombarded with autographs? Taking care of little Lily and James and Rose and Hugo and Albus? Oh, now they're going to have a tough time at Hogwarts. I'll have to visit them soon; I swear, they are the most charming little kids I've ever seen - besides you, of course. They love me, too... I think. It's hard to read kids! Oh, no, here I go again. I really got to learn to stop talking about myself. Take any good vacations this summer? Read any good books? Gone shopping in Diagon Alley yet? Are you going to take my subject? Are you ever going to grow that mustache? Just kidding about that last part. I think. Anyways, have a nice summer, and I hope to hear back from you soon. Don't let the medical potions get you down! Just remember that story Harry used to tell us about when he had to regrow all the bones in his arm - then you'll almost be drinking hot cocoa. Good luck in love and life; I'll be sure to send you a little souvenir from Spain.

<s>Audios,</s> <s>Adiose,</s> Adíos,
Lysander Lovegood

[Jasper Black]

The letter is good, shows you can write letters. But I'd prefer a real rp sample, please. ^^

[Jacki]

[[Ah, here we go. I could do better if requested.]]

Have you ever seen those shows on TV, you know, where a man with a heavy British accent has his ego gets the best of him, and wrestles a crocodile or python or some sort of dangerous creature? Well, if you have, then you'll know Jesse Raquelle. Jesse was very confident in himself, and thought of himself as being independent, which wasn't too far from the truth. For example, he is more dependent than not to his parents for money to pay the rent on his small apartment. These qualities of Jesse's has gotten him into the too common situation where that man with the heavy British accent has his head snapped right off. But that has never stopped Jesse Raquelle from being who he is - after all, why would he still be here, in London, trudging through the snow on the way to a muggle pub? One of his friends - or as he called them, admirers - recommended a good one down on Kingston street. After several minutes of searching for the certain pub, he finally settled upon it, and giving a sigh of relief, pushed open the doors.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Jesse observed the inside of the slightly smelly, rather loud pub. He couldn't help but chuckle at the muggle men, far from sober and watching their football game. Pathetic, all of them, Jesse thought to himself, shaking his head in amusement as one of them stood up and cursed as one of the opposing teams kicked a goal. After getting his own fill of entertainment, a waitress walked up to Jesse, with a rather dirty look. "Look, either sit down and get something to eat, or get yer arse outta the place!" Jesse rolled his eyes, obliging to the waitress's demand, and began to make his way towards a table. He raised his eyebrows at the waitress, as if to say "Happy, now?" Not even looking at the menu, he promptly ordered. "Get me a... burger." Jesse found he had to hold his tongue; it was to be expected that the muggles wouldn't have firewhiskey, or even butterbear. The waitress left, obviously rather miffed, and Jesse sighed and leaned back in his chair, propping his seat on the table. Then, something caught his eye. Or, I should say, someone. Jesse was surprised at himself, he who always was quite confident around girls, found himself staring at a girl sitting a couple of tables in front of him. Veela. Defintely Veela. The only conclusion he could come to... now that he thought of it, the rest of the men in the pub were also staring at him, even a couple women. He shook his head to clear his mind, and stood up. Jesse rustled his dirty blond hair, and with his gray eyes sparkling, started on his way over to that girl.

Ah... girls. Jesse was a girl magnet. His lovely connections, his bad-boy sense of adventure, his muscular physique... just a few things that girls just couldn't help but fling themselves as. He was like a male veela, and it was in fact hard to believe that he was a muggle born. A certain fact that Jesse liked to keep a secret - gave those sexy Slytherin girls clear passage - but he was not ashamed of it. The best of both worlds; that's what Jesse had always called it. This one girl appeared to be no blow to his confidence - she was probably just like all the other girls, who thought that by playing hard to get, guys would want them more. Which, in a sense, was not true. It only forced the guys to make the first move - they wanted them just the same.

"Hey." Jesse said calmly, walking right up to the table. He took a seat from a table, and began to sit down. Boy, she was gorgeous, Jesse couldn't help think to himself. Her long, black hair... full, red, classically beautiful lips against her pale complexion. "Woah!" Suddenly, Jesse found himself lying on his back on the floor. What the hell was that? His face was red, as his eyes scanned the crowd that was now staring at him. Trying to keep his cool, Jesse swiftly jumped back onto his feet and shook his head. "Er, nothing to see here, people!" He waved at them. "Go back to your business." Jesse glared at the people, who shrugged it off and resumed their night. Sighing, he returned the chair and looked awkwardly at the girl. He wasn't too good with apologies, especially not with people like... her. "Um... sorry?" Jesse said, then waited for a reply.

[Jasper Black]

denied.
I'm sorry Jacki, but your style of writing is not what we're looking for at Better Days.

[Jacki]

No, that's... perfectly fine. Would you mind if I asked... what I could do to improve? No pressure. Just curious. In fact, you don't even have to respond if you don't want to.