ALICE MNEME LOGAN

with your feet in the air and your head on the ground
try this trick and spin it
your head will collapse
but there's nothing in it
and you'll ask yourself,
where is my mind?

Birth Certificate
Name: Alice Mneme Logan
Birthdate: April 30th, 1958
Age: Seventeen
Year: Seventh
Job: Student
Blood: Pureblood

At First Glance
Hair color: Blonde
Eye Color: Honey brown.
Height: Five Foot, Seven Inches
Distinguishing features: Dimples, rather stubby fingers, pierced ears.
Desired Play-By: Carey Mulligan
Description: Alice is no longer the fat girl. Puberty and a running habit have evened out her proportions and she has dropped her baby fat, softening her round cheeks and defining her jawline. Alice has womanly hips and thighs, much to her chagrin, but at least it is now muscle instead of fat packed on her frame.
Alice has recently chopped off most of her hair and lightened it to a warm blonde. The cut is very in keeping with wizarding fashion and flatters her more delicate features. Alice's cheeks dimple whenever she smiles and she often crinkles her nose while focussing. She keeps rather up to date with wizarding fashion and is still a bit wary of pants (they are a bit too muggle for her tastes). Peasant blouses, skirts, dresses, and dragonskin riding boots are the staples of her wardrobe.
Her nails are kept neat and blunt and free of coloured varnish. Alice's hands have more than a few scars from herbology.


Tell Me More
Likes:
`Droobles Best Blowing Gum
`The Caerphilly Catapults
`Gardening
`Tea
`Running
`Lazy mornings in bed
`The Wizarding Wireless Network - Alice especially enjoys the radio drama On the Beat, a buddy cup story about the Department of Magical Law Enforcement
`Family
`Schoolwork

Dislikes:
`Blood Elitism; it's a bunch of nonsense, but Alice has yet to publicly voice her opinion on the matter. She is in a bit of an odd position, as her mum is rather old hat and a firm believer in blood superiority.
`Shepherd's Pie; she doesn't like mushy food.
`Potions; she's barely passing her NEWTS course. She doesn't like following rigid instructions from a textbook and she's not nearly competent enough to freestyle it.
`Cooking ; see potions.
`Running
`Puddlemere United; wankers.
`Purple
`Floo Powder

Habits/Quirks:
`Cracking her joints; it's unladylike, but it helps her focus.
`Smoking; Alice picked up the habit from her father when she came of age. It suppresses her hunger, at least.

Strengths:
`Herbology; Alice has a gift for the garden, especially in encouraging weak and dying plants to flourish.
`Dueling; Alice is her father's daughter and exceptionally handy with her wand.
`Work Ethic; she isn't the cleverest witch (though she isn't dumb), but she compensates for her weaknesses by hitting the books.

Weaknesses:
`Potions; Alice has to work about three times as hard as her classmates in order to keep up. She hates the course and has almost no aptitude for it.
`Organisation; Alice can never find her things. She's a bit forgetful and usually running late. Her notes are never very organised and her trunk in the dormitory is a complete mess.
`Anxious; Alice is still working on her confidence issues after years of teasing. She doesn't do very well in crowds and gets terribly anxious when traveling to new places on her own.
`Stubborn; Once Alice has made up her mind, very little can change it, for better or worse.
`Curious; Although Alice is a sensible girl, she can't help her curiosity. It frequently gets her into trouble. She has this insatiable urge to know things. At least it makes her a good student.
`Food; Alice has a pretty difficult relationship with food. She used to use it to medicate herself, and now she avoids it like the plague.

Overall Personality: Alice is finally starting to come into her own. After years of feeling unsure about herself and her role in the world, she feels like she's finally found her place. It took her seven years to forgive and accept the Sorting Hat for placing her in Gryffindor, discovering her own quiet courage and resiliance along the way.

A little shy, but not asocial, Alice tends to observe others before speaking up. After years of relentless teasing over her weight, her skin got pretty thick. Despite being quiet, Alice carries herself with dignity and can give as good as she gets. She believes strongly in the good in people and is slow to anger and quick to forgive.

Having never been especially popular, Alice has had plenty of time to focus on her studies. This drive coupled with her natural smarts has earned her good marks, even scraping into NEWTs potions. Alice has a strong sense of right and wrong and an almost fanatical desire to be an Auror like her father. Duty, respect, and justice are some of her most cherished values, instilled in her by her father. The darkening world only serves to motivate her to join the fight more. Alice empathises with the downtrodden and wants very badly to use her talents to protect and serve.

Alice is a warm and friendly person if you manage to get closer than an arm's length. Fiercely loyal and protective, she wouldn't hesitate to bail a friend out of trouble at two in the morning. Alice cherishes her few friendships quite deeply and will fight to the death to protect her loved ones.


Bring It Home
Father: Mitchell Logan - Fifty Five - Retired Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement
Mother: Chloe Prewett-Logan - Fifty - Retired Obliviator, Stay at Home Mum
Siblings: N/A
Other Important People: The Prewetts, her first cousins. The Weasleys, by marriage.

Overall History:
Alice grew up near Caerphilly, Wales, in a remote wizarding village. Her father's house, Glan Twynn Hall, is situated on a sprawling farm of Aehonan. Born to a family of respectable wizarding stock and a life of comfort, Alice had a lovely childhood. Her father's parents had made and left him a small fortune breeding and selling winged horses, and her mum earned a pretty penny as an Obliviator.

Alice's mum left work at the Ministry when she was born to care for her daughter. Alice spent her younger years getting lost in the woods on the family property and was perpetually at war with the local pixie population. Alice always had a great fondness for the gnomes in the garden. She tried valiantly to secure a gnomechild of her own to raise. Her mum found out after six days and managed to convince her that the gnomechild would much rather be with his own mum. Alice relented, more than a little disappointed at the loss of her friend.

There were very few children in the nearby village, and Alice grew accustomed to playing elaborate games of make believe by herself. She was a little lonely, but life was good. Her father, by then the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, began working fewer hours. Alice had always been a daddy's girl and loved listening to his stories. He ensured she understood and respected her families history, of what it meant to be a wizard, and how to be an honorable one. Alice remembers her father and the Tales of Beedle the Bard quite fondly.

Hogwarts was a bit of a slap in the face for Alice. Sorted into Gryffindor, she was convinced the hat had made a mistake. Chubby and awkward, she was the perfect target. Alice withdrew into herself and found solace in her studies, especially in Herbology. This didn't exacly help her case with the teasing, and Alice's early years were filled with tearful diaries and loads of teen angst.

Alice's fifth year was her turning point. During career interviews, she admitted to Professor McGonagall that she wanted only to be an Auror. Her potions grades were dismal and her weight would disqualify her alone. McGonagall suggested she should consider other career paths, perhaps botany, and this dismissal motivated her more than anything else. Alice spent her fifth year running around the lake, reciting potions laws and recipes, and very little time sleeping. With a maniacal desire to become an Auror, she managed an A on her Potions OWL and secured her dream.

In the past two years, Alice has dropped nearly sixty pounds. She's much less self conscious, though she's a bit put out at how much better people treat her now that she's thinner. Now a Seventh Year, Alice is preparing to take her final exams and intends to immediately apply for Auror training. Her prospects look quite good.

Show Off

It had started without warning. Alice remembered how she'd looked out the window in the middle of paperwork, and saw a flicker of something on the horizon. She had resumed poring over Lestrange tax-records before the strangeness of the sight had sunk in. Alice would forever remember the way her stomach dropped as she bolted to the window. There she had stood, mouth opened into a wordless "o". Her fingers shook as they touched the glass.

The skyline was burning red.

Alice had shuddered, turned, and grabbed her cloak from her upended chair. And she had begun to run. She ran through every corner of the Department, rousing tired Aurors and Patrol Men, half screaming for them to move because London was burning. Sturgis had gaped at her until her hysterics clicked. He'd grabbed her arm and then they were running, running, running to escape the Ministry, wands aloft. And Alice was trying not to scream, because she needed her breath to fight, but London was burning.

When they had reached the flames , Alice feared that she might never be cold again. The heat was cruel, surrounding her, filling every pore in her skin with fire. She wondered if she would ever un-feel the touch of that furnace. For a moment, they had stared at the wall of flames, terrible and vast, that consumed the city.

Sturgis had said something frail and pithy, but Alice could only hear the fire. Could only hear the screams as London burned.

Alice didn't remember when they sent for the Order. One of them had fired off a patronus into the night as they attempted to quell the fire. It wasn't fiend fyre, the Ministry would have been consumed if it had been, but it was magic, and more than simple flames from a wandtip. On they had struggled against the flames licking up the sides of homes, desperate to contain them. Their wandwork had been so pitifully small, and the flames had been everywhere, licking at their ankles, eating at their protective charms. There had been no stopping the heat. No charm had been unable to cool their skin from the onslaught.

At some point, reinforcements had arrived. A variety of Order Members and Aurors roused from their beds. Alice remembered how Moody had taken her side, wild eyes squinting into the flames as he had lent his wand. But she had only had eyes for the burning orphanage. Aguamenti and glacius and every water spell they knew barely made dents in the flames. But a fresh half dozen wands had eventually stopped the fire, and she had thought they had saved the brick home.

And then the building had collapsed on itself, and Alice couldn't stop screaming. She remembered sprinting for the wreckage and cruel, thick arms holding her back, a voice shouting in her ears to stop, they're done for, there's still so much to do...!

It had lasted all night. Any time they stopped the flames, more sprang up elsewhere. They had encountered a small band of Death Eaters along the way, and Alice couldn't remember much of the duel (she would later find out she spent most of it unconscious after taking several stunners to the chest). Someone, one of the McKinnons, had revived her after the battle, because more of London was aflame and they needed every able wand.

That night had dragged on for what felt like a lifetime. And then, as suddenly as it had started, it had stopped. The dawn grayed the sky. And London was no longer burning.


A week passed. The Obliviators had worked three days straight to calm the muggle community, planting the story of a massive gas rupture and subsequent fire. They erased surviving memories of men and women with sticks dousing the flames, replacing them with bright red fire engines and hoses. The Accidental Magic Reversal Squad worked in secret alongside the rebuilding muggles, and within days, life at the Ministry began to return to normal. All was well.

As if a week ago, there had been no fire at all.

"Alice. Are you in?" A voice. Alice jumped, looking into the bright eyes of Devon Dawlish, a rather more senior Auror. He was in her cubicle, leaning against her nightmare of a desk, watching her. Alice quickly took stock of herself. She crushed her cigarette in her ash tray, and sat up straight. Her shaking hands went to her lap. She smiled pleasantly at Dawlish.

"Yes. Hello. What is it?"
"Your report, from the fire. It's late." He spoke of the fire so casually, as if it had simply been a rainy night. Devon had been on holiday for the nightmare in Majorca, and Alice tried to forgive his ignorance.

But she couldn't unknown that awful spice of seared flesh and stone. No matter how many times she washed her hair, she couldn't seem to escape that monstrous smell of death. She had binned the clothes and boots she had worn that night, hating how they stank up her flat.

"Are you well, Alice?" Dawlish interrupted her thoughts, a hand on her shoulder. Alice jumped, swallowed, and spoke in a very small voice,
"No, I don't think I am."

Dawlish, for all his poor taste, was a good man. He sent her home with a firm smile, dropping her cloak on her shoulders and squeezing them in a fatherly sort of way. Alice walked numbly through the office. It seemed impossible that life should be so normal today. Vance was chatting with Bones about having to see his daughter off on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow. Moody was chewing a young witch out about constant vigilance. Wizards gossiped in the lift. There was no somberness in the Atrium, only busy Ministry workers heading home for the night.

Alice wasn't sure how she ended up in the Leaky Cauldron. Perhaps it was the noise that drew her in, the warmth of the fire, so unlike the nightmare last week. She just knew she couldn't go home, couldn't bear to be alone in the quiet.
She perched herself on a stool at the bar. Her black cloak was folded and sat haphazardly on the floor by her feet. Her robes joined them in a graceless heap. Her boat neck, black and white striped dress was a touch dated, but no less flattering. Grey tights hugged her legs, disappearing into black dragon skin knee high boots. Her blonde hair, tousled by the evening wind, brushed her chin.

Alice bent over awkwardly, hunting for a pack of cigarettes in her robes. Victorious, she lit one with her wand. The smooth pull of nicotine set every nerve alight, soothing and familiar. Flagging down the barman, she was rewarded with a shot of fire whiskey.

Shifting her cigarette, she grasped the pale glass with a small hand, raising it wordlessly to the ceiling. Alice threw back the shot, forcing herself to swallow, not to cough nor choke, hating how it burned all the way down.

Behind The Mask
Alias: Ed Taco
Age: Twenty four
Years Roleplaying: I have been writing and roleplaying everything from D&D 2nd Ed. to Harry Potter for just shy of eleven years. I am an old and nerdy fart.
Other Characters: I will be applying for Amycus Carrow.
Best way to contact you: PM, MSN, and AIM, though I do keep my Yahoo! open on occasion.
Read the rules?: Mermaid.

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