KAFKA, finola catrin

[ccole]

Nickname: Sophoooo
How You Found Us: I tagged along
Contact Via: PM

What can be found in a name:
Finola Catrin Kafka
When the day I was born:
14/12/1959
The Angels screamed:
Alexander & Yulia Kafka
And Hell shut its doors:
Christina Kafka
While creatures retreated:
Heracles the family's Eagle Owl
To depths unknown:
Pure

I hide from them:
Common room, home, school grounds, the great hall
Be who they want to see:
Like her sister, Finola is short too, roughly about 5'2, but appears much smaller as she has a much more petite physique. Her entire frame looks breakable and thin in the extreme. Her gait is not as confident or slinky as her older sibling, there is a more uncertainty about the way she fidgets with her hands or pulls at the ends of her hair, the way her eyes find refuge in the ground. Overall to a strange her body language is much more passive and covered, although she does tend to relax around closer friends and family. Finola's hair is something that changes frequently, the only thing that stays the same about it is the fact it's an ebony colour. It doesn't tend to be any longer than shoulder length and usually comes in two varieties, long and straight (with or without a fringe) and shorter and sticks out in all directions - "I've-just-woken-up" look. Although her skin tone is the same as her sister's, pale, she tends to look paler what with a darker complexion. Her eyes are blue, although they are much darker, sometimes appearing brown in poor light, although they are definitely blue. Like her sister she has high cheekbones and a similar face, and has gorgeous dimples when she smiles.
But that leaves no one:

To discover that inside:
Finola is the sort of person you want to give a big hug to. Your first impressions of her are that she is shy and doesn't have much self confidence. She prefers to take a back seat in the conversations and doesn't say much to strangers. She constantly compares herself to other people and hates people who brag and show off. Finola is the sort of person who keeps her feelings very much to herself and feels uncomfortable sharing them; even with people she is closest to. As a friend she is very loyal and sweet. She is the sort of person who will always remember your birthday, let you copy her essay and let you cry on her shoulder. To people close to her she tends to open up and relax, although if faced with an awkward social situation completely backs out of it. Finola gets very nervous about the smallest things and panics when things don't go exactly to plan. Around boys she's hopeless. She often ends up blushing or embarrassing herself. Finola is often very passive and won't stand up for herself is she is put down. It would only make matters worse, and she hates upsetting anyone. If given the opportunity, she would try and apologise to her worst enemy.
This soulless being:
- Reading
- Astronomy
- Orange
- Autumn
- Dogs
- Boys
- Being surrounded by close friends
- Being at home
- Expensive perfume
Is just as lost:
- Dressing up
- Big parties/gatherings
- Deep water
- Pumpkin juice
- The dark
- Being rejected
- Herbology
As everyone else:
- Is a brilliant Quidditch player
- Empathetic
- Dry wit
- Loyal
- Kind
In a world that knows only hate:
- Extremely socially awkward
- Low self esteem
- Slightly neurotic
- Shy
- Often gets 'the wrong end of the stick'
And causes pain for the soulless like me:
- In particularly grim times, such as when her parents died, she suffers from Neurosis
- She once told a muggle boy she was a witch - luckily he didn't believe her

They left me to die:
- Yulia Kafka (neé Verle) -- mother[deceased]
-Sergey Verle -- grandfather[deceased]
-Anna Verle -- grandmother[deceased]
On a bed of roses:
-Alexander Kafka -- father[deceased]
-Alice Kafka -- grandmother [deceased]
-Frank Kafka -- grandfather [deceased]
-Judy Williams (neé Kafka) -- aunt [deceased]
-Gary Williams -- uncle [deceased]
Blood seeping through:
- In the Verle side of the family, animagi is common. It tends to skip a few generations, Sergey Verle was one, now Christina is one. Whether or not this will be passed down again is unknown. Finola shows no signs of the gift, secretly she is quite glad.
The satin sheets of fame:
Rolling in it
What a bitter story of love:
Born into a Pureblood family with high hopes of her, Finola was always a quiet child. Her father had hoped for an heir, and was disappointed with another daughter, let alone one who was not as vivacious at their first. She showed signs of magic at about two years old when the teapot exploded during one of her tantrums. As a young child, with most of the attention on her older, boisterous sister, she prefered to read and lose herself in the world of fantasy. She particularly found muggle books entertaining, which worried her parents and they were destroyed immediatly. Her father ordered her to go out and play "like any normal kid." Her mother stood up for her then, after all, they were only children's stories. Finola was very close with her mother, closer than Christina. She passed a reasonably average childhood, not as happy as her sister's but she felt privaledged by her wealth and authority they seemed to have. Soon enough it was her first year at Hogwarts. Many of the children she and Christina had met in their childhood didn't pay much attention to her, which she didn't mind. She was put in Ravenclaw, the family tradition, but clearly wasn't as clever as her sister. However teachers soon saw she was determined and a hard worker, and grades slowly but surely improved to a high standard. Unfortunatly she found it hard to make friends as she was so quiet and was convinced that she was the smallest kid in the entire school. Her life hit rock bottom when her parents died in a freak accident. Being especially close to her mother, she went through a slightly neurotic period. She found it very hard to cope with their deaths, and after a dramatic decrease in grades and on weight scales, slowly began to improve again. As she progressed through the school she made a few friends and managed to keep her grades high once again.

(most recent)

It was hard to realise it was over a month that she had given birth to Alice, and it certainly had been a rollercoaster ride for Finola. It was all very well taking people's advice and reading on how to care for babies, but there was nothing like doing it yourself. The first week or so after coming out of hospital she had been awful, and extremely overprotective. Now she trusted Christina enough to babysit for a few hours whilst she had some rest, because they're not joking when they say babies will keep you up all night. But it wasn't her daughter's (that took some getting used to, the fact she had a daughter) fault, she didn't asked to come into this mess, which was why Finola was determined to make the best of it.

She hadn't been out a lot, unless she had to, not wanting to see other people. She was quite content in her own world, with Alice, Christina and of course Phoenix, they were the only people she desired to see. She still pondered on whether she and Phoenix would get anywhere, but was so tied up in looking after the baby she found she had little time for herself, and most of that was spent catching up on sleep. Like this morning, Christina had babysat and had now headed off to work. After feeding, burping Alice and having something to eat herself Finola found herself in the front room, seated on one of the armchairs with Alice, rocking her off to sleep.

Alice hadn't much changed in a month, except for she was a little bigger and heavy and her face wasn't all squashed up. Fortunatly, and Finola noted with some pride she looked more like her mother, although the dark tufts of hair that grew on top of her tiny head were definately brown, but Finola comforted herself with the fact baby's hair colour would probably change with time. Finola herself was tired looking, small circles ringed her dark eyes and her hair was pushed back off her forehead and stuck out in all directions. Hardly the most attractive look she had ever done but she had gone past caring. It wasn't like she was dressing up for anyone.

Alice, who had been staring back at her mother with an almost determined expression on her small face, was slowly giving into much wanted sleep and her eyelids began to drop, and soon enough she was sound asleep. As quietly and smoothly as possible as not to wake her Finola leaned down and placed the baby in the Moses basket they had bought down for sitting in the living room purposes, making sure Alice was well cocooned in her pale pink blankets before reclining into the chair and tucked her feet up under her; resting her head on the back of the chair. She closed her eyes, but did not sleep for the child's sake, but a quiet five minutes to herself wouldn't go amiss.

[.going down in flames.]