Rowan Vexeley -Ravenclaw -1st Year

21 Dec 2025, 22:13

INDEX

⌲
𝕴. 𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖑

⌲
𝕴𝕴. 𝕬𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊

⌲
𝕴𝕴𝕴. 𝕻𝖘𝖞𝖈𝖍𝖊

⌲
𝕴𝖁. 𝕭𝖎𝖔𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖞

⌲
𝖁. 𝕿𝖗𝖚𝖓𝖐

⌲
𝖁𝕴. 𝕯𝖊𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖘

“Hell is other people.” – Jean-Paul Sartre

Last edited by Rowan Vexeley on 10 Apr 2026, 21:46, edited 16 times in total.

Ability: cat's grace

21 Dec 2025, 22:19

General

Name: Rowan Anne Vexeley

Age: 11

Blood Status: Half-blood

Gender: Female

House: Ravenclaw

Year: 1st

Ethnicity: Irish-French

Species: Human

Languages: English/French

Height: 146cm
Weight: 82 lbs
Skin: pale white
Eyes: Green

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People first see Rowan as sad and unbothered, like her mind is always somewhere else. She's not quiet, she's actually pretty funny and sarcastic, but even when she's joking, she looks a little bit tired and far away. It makes you wonder what she's thinking about, and why someone who always carries a smile on their face also seems so lonely.

Last edited by Rowan Vexeley on 10 Apr 2026, 21:47, edited 12 times in total.

Ability: cat's grace

21 Dec 2025, 22:22

Appearance

Physical Description:

Rowan Vexeley, by all means, was not a beauty. Though, her appearance spoke more of cleverness rather than conventional charm. She stood just a bit taller than her female peers, and much skinnier. All limbs and sharp angles, she looked rather boyish. She had a pale round face framed by a fringe of dark brown hair cut straight across her brow. Her bangs often fell into her eyes, those green eyes, like a felin's, were her finest feature. They were slanted and carried a certain amusement and mockery, heightened by her fox-like smile.

Facial Features:
Rowan has a nice enough face, but it's not perfect. Her green eyes are pretty, but they're always tired-looking, with permanent dark circles under them. Her nose is a bit too upturned, giving her a look that can seem accidentally dismissive or a little haughty when she's just thinking. Her mouth is quick to smile, but the smile is small and sharp, not warm. She has a few faint freckles and one eyebrow sits just a tiny bit higher than the other, making her look perpetually skeptical. She's pretty in an interesting, off-kilter way, but it's the kind of face that makes you look twice, not because it's stunning, but because it seems like it knows something you don't.

Style & Attire:
Rowan doesn't really care about clothes, or at least, that's how it looks. At school, her uniform is always a bit messy. Her tie is usually loose or undone, her skirt is wrinkled and her socks escape her lanky knees. She wears clothes that are a little too big for her, oversized sweaters and jeans in muted colors like grey, black or dark blue and knee length skirts or dresses with big jumpers or old brown leather jackets.

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Last edited by Rowan Vexeley on 7 Jun 2026, 22:24, edited 10 times in total.

Ability: cat's grace

21 Dec 2025, 22:22

Psyche

Positive Traits:
Rowan is fiercely loyal to the few people she really loves, especially her mother. For them, she is brave and completely honest. She would do anything to protect them, not because she wants something in return, but because she truly cares. It’s the one part of her that isn’t selfish or calculating. Her intelligence was clear, though it manifested differently from the studious obsession most Ravenclaws were known for.

Values & Principles:
Rowan believes in looking out for herself first, because in her experience, no one else will. She is honest, mostly because lying is too much work and gets you caught unless it serves her interests then she becomes a very skilled liar. The only rule she never breaks is loyalty to her mother, for her, Rowan would do anything. Rowan's moral compass doesn't really point "north" to good or "south" to evil. It mostly just points at herself. She decides what's right or wrong based on what keeps her safe, gets her ahead, or protects the one or two people she actually cares about. Morally, Rowan operates in shades of grey. She does not believe in rigid rules of right and wrong; she believes in outcomes. If a lie protects her future, she will lie. If helping someone aligns with her goalsor sparks her curiosity, she will help them with surprising dedication. Because of this, people often find her unpredictable: she can be unexpectedly protective one moment and completely indifferent the next. Morally grey was the only description that ever seemed accurate, though Rowan herself would never
bother using the term.

Flaws & Struggles:
Rowan's core flaws are her deep selfishness and her refusal to ever show weakness. She is sarcastic to keep people at a distance, cynical to the point of distrusting any kindness, and can be casually manipulative if it serves her goals. Her only struggle is with her own buried vulnerability; she is at constant war with any part of herself that wants to rely on others or admit she's hurt, believing that to need anyone is a fatal flaw. She'd rather be alone and in control than risk being seen as weak. She can also be very cruel and apathetic if it serves her purposes as much as altruisim doesn't really exist in her dictionary;She's not cruel for fun, but she's not kind for free either

Fears & Motivations:
Rowan is driven by a deep need to be safe and in control, because her childhood taught her that being powerless is terrifying. Her biggest fear is anyone seeing her weaknesses or knowing her secrets. She’s scared of needing people, because needing them means they can hurt you. Everything she does, the selfishness, the sarcasm, is to build a life where she never has to depend on anyone ever again.

"They say be good and you'll be happy. What if you're just... neither?"

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Last edited by Rowan Vexeley on 9 Jun 2026, 12:49, edited 13 times in total.

Ability: cat's grace

21 Dec 2025, 22:23

Biography

Rowan’s life before Hogwartswas lived in the quiet, grey margins of St. Brigid’s Church in Kilkenny, but it never felt like home to her. Her mother was a nun, sister Evangeline, and Rowan was nothing but the result of an affair between her and a french scholar, a wizard, who came in an academic trip to Kilkenny and left before Rowan was born, leaving only a book of french poetry, now Rowan's most precious posession.

Rowan helped around the church, cleaning and fixing rosemaries, along with the choirboys with scrubbed necks and the girls in pristine pinafores who came for Sunday service, catechism classes, and seasonal festivals. They had homes, parents, and Christmas dinners to return to; the church was a weekly obligation, not a prison. Thus, Rowan learned not to get attached to them or to anyone, ever, because she was sure everyone leaves one day or the other. She was tolerated by the nuns with a stiff, distant charity that always felt like disapproval.

Her mother loved her deeply but her love was only shown through quick gestures: a secret hug in the empty vestry, an extra biscuit slipped into her pocket, a warm cup of milk by Rowan’s bed before dawn , in fear of further scandal, as she was encouraged to stay far away from the child and make herself small and be grateful that she was not chased out by the Mother Superior. Rowan learned very early to fend for herself and not rely on anyone else.

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First instance of Magic

It happened during a particularly stark Sunday sermon. Rowan was nine and hated these sermons. She was forced to sit still next to sister Agnes on a hard pew while an old priest talked about things she didn't understand, nor did she care to. She could see her mother seated far away from her, weeping. Rowan felt a wave of hot calustrophobic shame and anger, not for her, but for her mother. Suddenly, the flame of every candle lining up the altar snuffed out at one, one second they were burning the next they were dead. A collective gasp filled the churh. Rowan sat perfectly still, shocked and thrilled, knowing with a child's pure, terrifying instinct that the extinguishing had come from her.

Last edited by Rowan Vexeley on 10 Apr 2026, 21:50, edited 12 times in total.

Ability: cat's grace

Game Master

Ministry of Magic

2 201 4 286

21 Dec 2025, 23:31

TRUNK

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STATISTICS

Stamina: 4 |Evasion: 8 |Strength: 3 |Wisdom: 8 |ArcPower: 6 |Accuracy: 6

ABILITIES

cat's grace

This is the "Game Master" account. Please do not owl this account, unless specified. This account is not moderated actively and therefore, you may not receive a response.

Contact a Head of House or the Headmaster if you need anything.

28 Feb 2026, 14:18

Details

⌜ basics ⌟

pronouns:	she/her
mbti:	ENTJ
patronus:	N/A
amortentia:	N/A
Scent:	Clean soap and fresh mint.
Voice	low and dry, with a rasp at the edges
Achetype	Tragic anti-hero

⌜ she likes ⌟

☾	rainy mornings
☾	Watching people
☾	The Daily Prophet
☾	butterbeer
☾	cats
☾	Admiring Artworks

⌜ she dislikes ⌟

✗	loud crowds
✗	pumpkin juice
✗	Performative kindness
✗	Crowded spaces
✗	cold tea
✗	Losing

⌜ favourites ⌟

book:	Le Petit Prince
color:	midnight blue
flower:	lily of the valley
class:	Charms

⌜ if she was... ⌟

a song:
♫ California Dreamin' ♫
by The Mamas & The Papas

a season:
autumn.

an animal:
fox.

✦"I don't want to save the world, I want to save my corner of it. The rest can burn."✦

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Last edited by Rowan Vexeley on 11 Apr 2026, 18:05, edited 4 times in total.

Ability: cat's grace

10 Apr 2026, 23:24

⌜ 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 ⌟
𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔧𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔬𝔣 𝔯𝔬𝔴𝔞𝔫 𝔳𝔢𝔵𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔶

The shadows here are long in the evening. They stretch across the stone floors like fingers reaching for something they can never quite touch. I watch them sometimes when I can't sleep. When the convent is quiet and the only sound is the wind rattling the old windows and the soft creak of wood settling into itself. The candlelight trembles when the wind blows. I can't help but notice these things, after all, there is hardly anything to do here besides...notice everything and anything.I'm very fun at parties.

I wonder if my father felt it. When he was here. When he was with my mother. Did he notice the way the shadows stretch across the stone floors? Did he hear the silence speaking? Or was he too busy leaving to pay attention? This place is made of silence, not the peaceful kind or the heavy kind. The kind that sits on your chest when you're trying to breathe. The nuns don't notice it anymore, I think they've been here too long that the silence has become part of them, like the grey in their hair and the creases around their mouths. I notice it every day. Every hour. Every breath. I don't think I belong here, I've never really thought I belonged here. But I don't know where else to go.

My mother came to my room tonight. She sat on the edge of my bed and held my hand. Her fingers were cold, they're always cold and I cannot figure out why. She talked about him again. My father. She doesn't say his name, she never says it as if saying it would reopen an old wound long forgotten. She just says "your father" like it's a title, like it's something he earned just by existing. She told me he was a wizard. Not the kind with a wand and a pointy hat like those in the books and novels they throw away frm the donation box at St.Bridgid's church. She said it's different, real magic, old magic. The kind that runs in blood.
I thought she meant party tricks like taking out a coin from someon's ear, or card tricks. Things that make people gasp and clap and then forget. I nodded like I understood but I didn't understand. I never understand when she talks about him.
I asked my mother once if my father ever thinks about me. She got that look on her face, the one she gets when she's trying not to cry. She said, "Of course he does. How could he not?" I didn't believe her. I don't think she believed herself either.

The other children come and go. They stay for a few months, a year, and then they leave: Foster homes, relatives, sometimes nothing. Just gone one morning with no goodbye. It's like being in a train station where you're the only one who never boards a train. And I have, honestly, lost count of how many faces I smiled at and then they just left, so I stopped smiling at faces. I stopped making friends with them once and for all. I used to. Clara. I still think about Clara Davis. She was small and quiet and scared of everything. She used to hold my hand in the chapel when the nuns weren't looking. She left three years ago, one second she was here, the other she was being shoved into a car to somewhere or someone, I don't know where she is. I don't know if she's okay. I hope she's okay. I hope she forgot about this place.

Oh. I got a letter today. From some witch school, Hogwarts or something. I thought my mother meant my dad did party tricks, but he's actually a wizard. A real one ! With magic and everything. don't know if I want to go to his magic school. I don't know if I want to be part of his world. I don't know if I want to give him the satisfaction of existing in a space he probably walks through. But I also don't want to stay here, so I guess I'm going.

Merry Christmas to me !

❝ "I don't pray anymore. But I still talk to the dark, It's the only thing that's ever listened. ❞

𝔰𝔬 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫, 𝔰𝔬 𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔯𝔡𝔢𝔡..𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔬 𝔩𝔢𝔣𝔱 𝔲𝔫𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔡

Rowan Vexeley — 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

Last edited by Rowan Vexeley on 30 Apr 2026, 18:00, edited 2 times in total.

Ability: cat's grace