Ryan Davenport

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Ryan Davenport

Post by Tom Tom- on Fri Mar 14, 2014 6:58 pm

Full name: Ryan Alexander Davenport
Gender: Male
Age: 15 years old (Fifth year)
House: Proud Gryffindor
Blood Status: Presumed Muggleborn, due to being raised in an orphanage, he is not completely sure of his blood status
Wand Type: Vine with Unicorn core, twelve and a quarter inches, solid

Appearance: At 5’7, he is considered average in height in relation to his age, light brown eyes that always seem to be laughing, a crooked, omnipresent smile stuck to his face, fingers that constantly seem to be moving, a thin build due to not getting much exercise at Hogwarts and his orphanage. Disheveled brown hair that reaches his neck. Ry does not seem to care much about his appearance, considering how he dressed, while his clothing is school-appropriate, his robes are forever messy and disordered.

Personality: Davenport, personality-wise, leans more toward Hufflepuff behavior, kind to strangers, jack of all trades, not rude unless another individual is, quick to defend his friends, loyal to the very end, while he is not particularly stupid, he is not rather intelligent either, jumps right into the fray without thinking and is impulsive to an extent, but can calculate plans in his mind quickly, rushed thinking etc etc. He will approach random people and introduce himself, friendly towards all and quick to forgive on the outside, but he is very, very bitter, once wronged he shall not forget his enemy’s name, while maintaining an outward expression of cordiality. Ryan Davenport’s personality type is Extrovert, obServant, Feeling, Prospecting (ESFP).

Backstory: Ryan Davenport, raised in an orphanage, had been plagued by questions since the moment he had the ability to comprehend his situation. His curiosity hidden under a cheerful, amiable facade, asking questions that nobody could answer would prove a waste of his time, and thus, he waited. He waited and he waited, in that orphanage in central London, abandoned by his parents, he had been told curtly. And then, on his eleventh birthday, one grey, drizzly London morning, a hooded figure appeared, introducing itself by the name of Minerva McGonagall, briskly educating him on … magic. It was fantastic. He was ecstatic. Finally. There was some meaning to his life and a new route … maybe, just maybe, to the answers he so desired.
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