Acacia Murillo
Acacia's adoption date that she celebrates her birthday on: 17.11.2011
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Name: Acacia Murillo -------------------------
School: Castelobruxo
Year: Second
Blood status: Halfblood
Species: Human
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Appearance:
Acacia is a Columbian witch with long curly mahogany coloured hair that stretches down to her waist. She normally keeps it tied up in a low pony-tail which swishes when she walks. She has dark skin and an easy smile, and normally walks around either barefoot or in boots with no in between. Her dark brown eyes and slightly taller than average height mean that she can blend in with crowds with ease.Personality:
Any friend groups "big sister" Acacia is an extremely kind and welcoming person until provoked. Her anger is somewhat legendary around the school though it's very rarely awoken, as she has a good handle on not letting her emotions rule her. She is very loyal to her friends, and is a believer in second chances. This often makes people see her as weak because of her forgiving nature, though she can and will draw the line at what she is able to excuse from the people she loves. Her schools close proximity to the jungle brings her a lot of joy as she loves nature and hiking, always finding joy in uncovering the secrets of the Amazon.History:
Acacias upbringing is somewhat of a strange one, her parents having given her up to muggle foster care at a young age. Her father never told her mother he was a witch, and they had a dramatic break up just before Acacia was born once she found out. Her mother decided that alone and without a stable job she was unable to take care of a young child, so she gave her up to foster care. She bounced around from foster family to foster family, her childhood one filled with anger and confusion about why no one seemed to love her like other families seemed to.
After she ran away from her latest foster family when she was ten after issues with bullying at school after her dramatic first instance of magic (She had been playing football with a few other kids when one of them made a joke about how her parents must have left her because she was "so bad at football" and when she got angry the guttering above the other kids head burst with a loud pop and showered him with water). An old couple named Ada and Maria Ferreira sheltered her for a few days, as they didn't have any children of their own and Maria who grew up with problems controlling her anger recognised that Acacia needed somewhere to go and someone to lean on. She was initially very cautious and didn't trust them, but warmed up once Maria talked to her and shared stories of her own over dinner.
When she was picked up by the police, they signed up for the foster child program to give her a home. Due to how difficult she had been and how many families she had gone through, they were quick to agree. Ada was a muggle, but Maria was a witch who recognised Acacias magic after she made all the cutlery around her float accidentally during a screaming match. Those years where hard for her, but she had support from her family and over time calmed down a lot to the point where many wouldn't recognise the hurt, angry girl from years before. Her experiences left her with a strong belief that family was found, not based on blood.
She was raised to believe that everyone had their own struggles even if they chose not to share them, and as a result she isn't quick to give up on anybody even those who have hurt her in the past. When her letter came by bird, another piece of came from her new family. Adoption papers. Though she chose to keep the last name given to her by the muggle foster system, she officially became a part of their family that day.
Last edited by Cass Ito on 21 Jun 2024, 00:21, edited 1 time in total.
I took a little journey to the unknown
And I've come back changed, I can feel it in my bones
And I've come back changed, I can feel it in my bones
Acacia Murillo
Is your character a Broom Racer?: No
Is your character a Quidditch Player? Yes (chaser)
Is your character a Duelist?: No
Stats
.| Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 8 | Strength: 8 | Wisdom: 6 | Arcane power: 0 | Accuracy: 10 |.
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Muggle condition | Chasers Interception | yr 3 | yr 4 | yr 5 | yr 6 | yr 7
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Muggle condition | Chasers Interception | yr 3 | yr 4 | yr 5 | yr 6 | yr 7
Abilities
Muggle condition:
Reducio
Her dorm was a mess. Again. Out of habit, she started grabbing her textbooks off the floor and stacking them back onto the bookshelf. Growing up without any knowledge of the wizarding world, she had never really used magic for menial tasks like this. She hadn't even understood that there was magic until she was twelve, when her adopted parent Maria told her she was a witch after seeing her cause all the cutlery in the room to float during a screaming match. She paused for a second, remembering that with her newfound magic there was probably a spell for this. But then she continued stacking the books. It wouldn't do to turn into just another snobby wizarding kid with no idea how to clean a table. Honestly, the lack of knowledge she had seen among some of the purebloods was appalling. And frankly embarrassing, though none of the other wizards would say anything about it of course. Don't start a blood feud with ancient, stupidly-rich families after all.
Still, her family would never let her live it down if she forgot how to clean a room over the year. Juggling a fresh pile of books from off the floor, she went back to shoving them into the bookshelf. It may not be a professional clean, but hey at least she wont trip over and fall on her face again next time she needed to go to the bathroom at 3am. To add insult to injury, one of her dormmates had woken up and chose chaos threw one of the quaffles she had for practice at her. She obviously missed that catch, as not even she was fast enough to grab a quaffle while in mid-flight towards the floor.
Done with the books, she moved on to separating everyone elses shoes from her book rack. Their disgusting flip flops did not belong anywhere near her babies. It was only half of her collection, the other twenty were at home. Fourty pairs to her seemed like a meager collection, but everyone else assured her it was "Too many". Ridiculous. With the imposter's separated from the rest (and thrown outside, into the dirt, where they belonged), she dusted off her hands. Victory. Well, if you didn't look at the other half of the room. The ability to clean the muggle way didn't quite equate to having a tidy dorm.
Cleaning was kind of relaxing in its own way. Though still not an activity she planned on doing often, to the remorse of any teachers who had to come in here looking for the students. Her mind wandered back to why many wizards had such messy dorms- it was literally just a wave of their wand (unless you refused to do it the easy way like her). Unless they were double-useless and didn't know any cleaning spells. Their poor parents (or in some cases, whoever their parents paid to clean it). Being an actually competent person wasn't her favourite advantage that growing up without much magic had though- stuck up purebloods always expected an attack to come from her wand. In the (very) rare occasion she felt the desire to prove them wrong with physical force, most of them had no idea what to do if jumped on.
Still, her family would never let her live it down if she forgot how to clean a room over the year. Juggling a fresh pile of books from off the floor, she went back to shoving them into the bookshelf. It may not be a professional clean, but hey at least she wont trip over and fall on her face again next time she needed to go to the bathroom at 3am. To add insult to injury, one of her dormmates had woken up and chose chaos threw one of the quaffles she had for practice at her. She obviously missed that catch, as not even she was fast enough to grab a quaffle while in mid-flight towards the floor.
Done with the books, she moved on to separating everyone elses shoes from her book rack. Their disgusting flip flops did not belong anywhere near her babies. It was only half of her collection, the other twenty were at home. Fourty pairs to her seemed like a meager collection, but everyone else assured her it was "Too many". Ridiculous. With the imposter's separated from the rest (and thrown outside, into the dirt, where they belonged), she dusted off her hands. Victory. Well, if you didn't look at the other half of the room. The ability to clean the muggle way didn't quite equate to having a tidy dorm.
Cleaning was kind of relaxing in its own way. Though still not an activity she planned on doing often, to the remorse of any teachers who had to come in here looking for the students. Her mind wandered back to why many wizards had such messy dorms- it was literally just a wave of their wand (unless you refused to do it the easy way like her). Unless they were double-useless and didn't know any cleaning spells. Their poor parents (or in some cases, whoever their parents paid to clean it). Being an actually competent person wasn't her favourite advantage that growing up without much magic had though- stuck up purebloods always expected an attack to come from her wand. In the (very) rare occasion she felt the desire to prove them wrong with physical force, most of them had no idea what to do if jumped on.
Chasers interception:
Reducio
Coming to castelobruxo after so long in an environment with very little magic had been hard for Acacia. All this nonsense about blood status and she had no idea of her own- she just told anyone that asked she didn't know. It might lead to awkward questions, but she refused to keep guessing about her birth parents. They had given her up for one reason or another, and she didn't have to keep clinging to them. She had a family now, one that had proved that they would be there for her through everything. A family that she chose. If that explanation wasn't good enough for everyone else, they could stick their inflated heads into a beehive.
But up in the air, no one bothered asking awkward questions about her birth family. On a broom, she was free. Skill didn't depend on who you were born to but how well you could play. Perhaps that was why she had turned to quidditch. Becoming a chaser on the school team, though she would never admit it had changed the way she saw things even more. She was growing up, and she refused to remain the same hurt, angry kid she had been when her parents left her. She was becoming a better, kinder, more forgiving person and she did not have to be who circumstance had made her.
She was also becoming a better chaser. The extra time she had put in on the pitch to catch up with the rest of the team was really paying off, and she had really noticed the difference between her skills as a awestruck first year and now, as a second year with so much practice under her belt. Her reflexes were becoming lightning quick, and it was a game for her dormmates to throw random roughly-quaffle-sized objects at her to test them. Nine out of ten times she caught it, which for some reason they found immensely funny. Her rising hours before them to throw around the quaffle on a broomstick with whoever she could bully into joining her was serious business.
Solo training when no one would give up their precious sleep to join her was more difficult, as there were only so many laps of the pitch you could do before you started learning nothing from it. She had tried bouncing the quaffle off walls and catching it, but turns out the teachers weren't so thrilled with that. The rainforest however, was certainly something to fly through. Its upper canopies were in most places relatively clear enough to fly through, and the branches just added an extra obstacle. Sometimes she would take a quaffle out and throw it up into the air, and then chase after it on a broomstick. Most of the time she just loved to explore. The forest was its own kind of magic. Though thankfully 80% of the time she was able to convince someone to play with her.
Her skill as her chosen position as chaser had reflected all of her early starts and late nights. She had held off joining the team in her first year to give her more time to hone her skills, and hone her skills she did. Getting up early every morning for more time on the pitch and attending every team training she could had made her broom feel like an extension of her. Not to mention heading to the stands every time there was a game to watch all the different strategies. Though she may regret nothing, it was most definitely exhausting. She smiled and pulled her long hair up into a loose ponytail. Speaking of training, she should probably stop reminiscing and get out there. It wouldn't do to let her newfound skills go rusty after all.
But up in the air, no one bothered asking awkward questions about her birth family. On a broom, she was free. Skill didn't depend on who you were born to but how well you could play. Perhaps that was why she had turned to quidditch. Becoming a chaser on the school team, though she would never admit it had changed the way she saw things even more. She was growing up, and she refused to remain the same hurt, angry kid she had been when her parents left her. She was becoming a better, kinder, more forgiving person and she did not have to be who circumstance had made her.
She was also becoming a better chaser. The extra time she had put in on the pitch to catch up with the rest of the team was really paying off, and she had really noticed the difference between her skills as a awestruck first year and now, as a second year with so much practice under her belt. Her reflexes were becoming lightning quick, and it was a game for her dormmates to throw random roughly-quaffle-sized objects at her to test them. Nine out of ten times she caught it, which for some reason they found immensely funny. Her rising hours before them to throw around the quaffle on a broomstick with whoever she could bully into joining her was serious business.
Solo training when no one would give up their precious sleep to join her was more difficult, as there were only so many laps of the pitch you could do before you started learning nothing from it. She had tried bouncing the quaffle off walls and catching it, but turns out the teachers weren't so thrilled with that. The rainforest however, was certainly something to fly through. Its upper canopies were in most places relatively clear enough to fly through, and the branches just added an extra obstacle. Sometimes she would take a quaffle out and throw it up into the air, and then chase after it on a broomstick. Most of the time she just loved to explore. The forest was its own kind of magic. Though thankfully 80% of the time she was able to convince someone to play with her.
Her skill as her chosen position as chaser had reflected all of her early starts and late nights. She had held off joining the team in her first year to give her more time to hone her skills, and hone her skills she did. Getting up early every morning for more time on the pitch and attending every team training she could had made her broom feel like an extension of her. Not to mention heading to the stands every time there was a game to watch all the different strategies. Though she may regret nothing, it was most definitely exhausting. She smiled and pulled her long hair up into a loose ponytail. Speaking of training, she should probably stop reminiscing and get out there. It wouldn't do to let her newfound skills go rusty after all.
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