Hogwarts, A Future

Sixteen Years After the War has Ended, Two Wizarding Schools Exist. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Salem Academy
 
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 Angel D' Monica

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Angel D' Monica
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PostSubject: Angel D' Monica   Fri Dec 21, 2012 6:31 pm

Full Name: Angel D’ Monica
Birthdate: January 7th
Age: -
Country of Origin: Italy
Current Home: Spain
General appearance: Tall, pale, slender. blonde, wavy hair that falls till mid-back. Silver eyes.
Special Features: Wings when she wants them.
Blood purity: Half-blood, in terms of magical creature.
Sexual alignment: Hetrosexual.

Personality: Angel is very bipolar person. She is the kind of person who might yell angrily to get what she wants but then get really sad for yelling and being mean and would try to make it up to whoever she was yelling at with some homemade cookies. She has the tendency to be very hyper, nice and helpful one moment, but get set off at the slightest words and will be really angry and scary. The only thing that she can’t change her mind about, however, was the fact she hated her parents for creating them into this state.

Background: Angel and Angelo were twins, raised in a Wizarding orphanage in Tripoli, Italy until they were 9 years old. All they knew about their parents were that they were an angel and a demon, and that they shouldn’t have been conceived. When Angel was in her sad moods she would often think that she was unwanted.
The twins were adopted by a friendly couple, witch and wizard, who welcomed them to their home with a smile and brought them to Spain. Angel loved them the way a daughter should love her mother, even though she may sometimes act otherwise. They tended to scare them with their constant mood swings and their weird accidental magic – wizard, angelic and demonic magic. They struggle to control with such things.
Unlike Angelo, Angel was extremely excited when she got her Lugarmago acceptance letter. She didn’t think twice about the other children there because she has already went through being bullied at one point in her life and she knew that it couldn’t get much harder. When she provided the information about her heritage, people tended to be really scared and weary of her.

Family: Mother: Name: Gabriel/ Age: unknown/ Living or dead: Living/ Blood status or species: archangel
Father: Name: Appolin/ Age: unknown/ Living or dead: Living/ Blood status or species: Demon
Siblings: Name: Angelo D’ Monica/ Age: twin to Angel/ Living or dead: Living/ Blood status or species: Half-angel, Half-demon
Pet: Name: Jello/ Age: 2/ Living or dead: Living/ Blood status or species: Phoenix.

Family Background: Gabriel and Appolin met in Italy in their human forms, sent for their own different missions. As they were complete opposites, they were naturally supposed to fight each other, but they had a romantic history from when Appolin was still a heavenly angel, rather than a fallen one. They couldn’t fight each other, but they surrendered to their growing emotions and had a one night stand, and returning to their missions as though that night in Italy never happened. When Gabriel found out that she was pregnant, she had immediately taken to begging for forgiveness and she received it, though her offense had already been noticed, on the grounds that the babied be taken to Earth and left there when they were born. Appolin’s mistake had already been noticed, but was not forgiven easily, and was brutally punished for his act. Both Angel and Angelo had never seen their parents.

Rosa and Rodrigo were a happy Spanish couple, until Rosa realized she can’t have children. This made them both sad, but they cheered up when they came up with the idea of adopting an Italian set of twins. As soon as they met the D’ Monica children, they were amazed at how angelic they looked and immediately took them home. They soon realized they were angelic, but they were also demonic. Who knew a couple of half-angel, half-demons could create such a mess around the house?


Last edited by Angel D' Monica on Thu Feb 27, 2014 10:54 am; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: Angel D' Monica   Sat Nov 30, 2013 3:37 am

Accepted.
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Angel D' Monica
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PostSubject: Re: Angel D' Monica   Thu Feb 27, 2014 10:53 am

NOTE: There are violent scenes here, so you might not want to read this.

As soon as you are born, you being to die.

Usually, it takes around seventy to eighty years for the person's body to wear out completely. Sometimes, a person is just not meant to live that long. They may catch disease, they may be killed. Angel D' Monica's brother was not meant to live. He hadn't even been twenty years old. Fate was cruel, the half-demon knew this, but she was never prepared - she could have never prepared - for such a tragedy.

At first, there were tears. So many tears, salty sobs splashing on her face, her clothes, the ground. Days and weeks of blurry images and chronic sadness, digging into her heart. And then, Michael proposed. Lovely, sweet Michael - the man who took her shattered heart and put it together, like the pieces of a puzzle. And yet, she couldn't feel happiness again. She should have felt happy, she was going to be Angel Livingston. It was going to be perfection. But her feelings were drained from her.

And then came the anger. The pure, unadulterated anger pulsing through her, begging to be let out. She attempted to calm herself, running around the neighbourhood a dozen times every day, punching walls angrily. The beast inside her could not be tamed. Her thoughts were too focused on the fact that her brother was intentionally murdered, not even given a chance to live. How DARE they kill Angelo?! HOW COULD THEY? WHY COULDN'T THEY HAVE KILLED ME? A force was driving her into a self-destructive state, she was torn between becoming homicidal or suicidal. Michael never knew about the whirling in her head, and she was convinced he thought she was finally happy. She was as far from happiness as she could get.

So she left. Separating herself from the love of her life had been the hardest thing she could ever experience, but she needed to leave. The Angelo Murderer was still in the world, possibly taking lives, ripping families apart, breaking hearts and minds… It was never an option for the girl; driven by anger and revenge, she knew it took an ineffable amount of willpower to keep herself in place. And yet, her willpower could never overcome the levels of her emotions.

*

It had been weeks and weeks and possibly even months, since Angel decided to part with Michael in search for a murderer. She had found three Black Widows, and after an interrogation, she knew who she was looking for. The person who destroyed her was still breathing. The person who destroyed her life will be destroyed.

His name was unknown. It did not matter. All that mattered was seeing his blood pour from his veins, feeling his bones crack beneath her fingers, hearing his pain escape from his lungs… All that mattered was watching him die.

The day she found him could have been simultaneously the best and the worst day in the entirety of existence. He was quite tall, yet thin and sharp, with an intricately embroidered coat on his back and a cigarette in his mouth. His hair was carefully curled, resting on his popped collar.

When she spotted him, she began to follow him. Honestly, he went to the oddest of places. She did begin to wonder if he was really the murderer as he entered Starbucks with his date, sharing an intimate conversation with a short blonde she did not recognise. The man could have been an innocent and Angel could have simply been a paranoid stalker, driven by a need to kill, not caring who gets caught in the cross-fire. The demon inside her growled and hissed, urging her to attack, but her better half made her wait, because asking questions before attack was crucial when taking revenge.

It took several hours until the man began acting suspiciously. He wandered into one of the many forests scattered around the country, taking long strides, in the direction of a clearing buried deep within the area. He turned around with a smirk on his face. “Angel D’ Monica,” he said. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Anger was the only emotion the girl felt capable of having. Right across from her stood the one person who burnt her brother’s wings and left him to die. He was the reason her mind stabbed at her heart. Him, and only him. He was the one who would die tonight. He was the one she was prepared to die to kill.

“Go to hell.”

And with those words, she cast a simple full body-bind curse, and he fell to the ground. Instead of killing him, she did something she never knew she had the ability to do. “CRUCIO!”

She watched with sadistic pleasure as he fought against her body-binding curse, writhing pain – pain she inflicted upon his pathetic body. And yet, it did not seem enough for her. The black hole in her stomach seemed to grow, feeling uncomfortable and weak. I really should give him a chance to fight back. It’s not very fair, otherwise. At this thought, she released him of her magic, only to push him against a tree sharply, scratching at his back.

His wand was in his hand in moments, and his weakened arm raised in her direction, but she cut him off with a hissed “Sectumsempra,” escaping her lips. His chest was slashed several times, and the red liquid drained from his body. She stretched her wings, satisfied with the way he was doomed to die.

As she prepared to take flight, she was oblivious to his last action. With one last breath, he took hold of her wings, and pulled. The wand in his hand dug into the soft white feathers, pulling them apart. He whispered the cutting curse, as she attempted to pull away, but his surprisingly strong arms kept her.

Her mouth refused to open, she refused to feel.

Feeling was murder.

Then she launched into the ground, face-first. Her back was bare. Her wings were gone. The feathers scattered around her, cut by the wand that killed her own brother. The curly-haired man was dead. Dead, dead, dead. Gone. She was not satisfied.

On her knees, she crawled over to her wings, too weak to stand. Her hands held the soft object, painted with the red colours of her blood and his. Her own blood dripped down her back, and she began to cry.

“M-mum? Do you remember me? I-I’m the result of your biggest mistake. I know I haven’t tried speaking to you since we were f-finally adopted, because-because I’d given up on you.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. “But I… I need you. Please. If you- if you’ve ever cared about me… heal me. I need to get back to Michael. Please…

In reality, her words were a garbled mess that sounded like gibberish. The mixture of tears, blood and dirt covered her words, as well as the sobs she unwillingly cried out. The pain was unbearable, but she was beginning to feel as though it was exactly what she deserved.

She did not save Angelo.

She left Michael.

She was selfish.

She tortured and killed a man.

Did she even deserve to live?

As she fell into a deeper state of self-hate, a soft tingle ran down her back, like light touches soothing the pain she was experiencing. The blood began to cease. The healing process was beginning.

Your father would have been proud.

Her legs wobbled as she attempted to stand up, but as she did so, all she saw was the glittery remains of what may or may not have been her biological mother.

All the girl could do was stare blankly, disbelieving. For the first time, she was answered. Walking out of her trance, she thought one thing, and one thing only.

I have to get back to Michael.
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