Name : Rivner PierceGender : Male
Age : 11
Grade : First year
House : Slytherin
Ethnicity : British
Blood : Half-blood
Hair Color : Back - Light tan
Bangs - Bleached cream
Eye Color : Brown
Pet : Marge, a bright pink pygmy puff. Sports quite a loving disposition and is very attached to her owner. Loves it when Rivner confides in her.
Wand : Hippogriff Talon, Cherry, 8 inches. (Maroon hued) A slim wand that is ideal for charm work.
Family : Father - Cornelius Pierce, the wizard in the family that Rivner inherits his magical blood from. Works in Diagon Alley, at Flourish and Blotts. On the floor, helping students and the like find books they need. [Accepted]
Mother - Rachel Pierce (Maiden name: Fiefer) [deceased], a muggle who had no idea Cornelius (Or his affectionate nickname, Corn) was a wizard. He told her when Rivner was 4, leading to Rachel's premature death. Back when she had breath in her, Rachel was a kind, motherly woman who had a green thumb. From Scotland.
A Bit About Him/Her : When you first spot Rivner skipping down the corridor with an alarmingly pink pygmy puff on his shoulder, the first thing that would run through your head would be, "Cripes...that little Slytherin girl must have done something so awful to be so happy..." but upon a closer inspection, you would notice that shockingly there was nothing sinister about their facial expression, nor that it was a girl at all! With his long draping hair and quite serene expression, Rivner could easily pass off as a girl. Not to mention sporting an eye-popping magenta pygmy puff from Weasly's Wizard Wheezes.
Rivner is very calm through thick and thin, and never looses his head. However his docile disposition causes him to daydream quite a lot during classes. Amazingly enough, Rivner seems to absorb anything said by the professor and need only close his eyes and smell a flower or two to remember what they taught. A quirk is that he is absolutely frightened of dirt, scum, or any state of upheaval. It doesn't help that he's OCD about cleanliness and everything being neat and orderly. Rivner's uniform's always spick and spany and his four-poster bed is always neatly made every morning.
Why Rivner was placed in Slytherin, no one knew. Perhaps it was because of that minuscule, dark spot in his heart that he had? It wasn't really a threat, but Rivner had found that he was quite capable of sneaking around unnoticed. He never seemed to draw attention to himself, and was quite fine with that.
A Moment By Himself/Herself : "Eww...ick...GROSS!" A shrill voice pierced the humid air. A small, if scrawny, sand haired boy flailed around as dirt and mud were splattered all over him. Brandishing multiple layers of dragon hide gloves and a pair of long pincers, he went on cursing Herbology and snipping off dead leaves from a kicking plant in a pot. Rivner dreaded when he would have to take Care of Magical Creatures.
Sulking in the greenhouse, he finished his job and picked up the pot. Carrying it at an arms length, Rivner whimpered and brought it over to the professor for examination. He had passed satisfactorily and was soon peeling off the dull brown cover smock and wiping sweat off his forehead. He quickly returned it to the hook he took it from and deftly brushed dirt off from the front. The sun was high overhead and shone mercilessly into the greenhouse where the Ravenclaws and Slytherins had congregated for Herbology. Sighing, Rivner took off his gloves and stowed them away in his bag. Soon, everyone's freshly sheared plants were checked and the students started to mill out of the greenhouse, gasping for fresh, non-mulch infused air.
Rivner stretched casually and reached into his messenger bag to let Marge out. Marge was his beloved bright pink pygmy puff that he always talked with. Naturally, with his oblivious and blissful wanderings, there wasn't much of a person rather than an imagination to befriend. Thinking about his schedule, Rivner remembered that transfiguration was next and that he could daydream fitfully until the professor had them practice. Either way, he was quite happy that the dreaded Herbology was over. Straightening his blouse and tie under his gray Hogwarts vest, Rivner jabbered on to Marge as he skipped through the courtyard to transfiguration. Although he was in Slytherin, Rivner survived many jabs and pokes from his fellow housemates for his flighty personality and over-all lack of snide. Also, Rivner had the ability to sit around so serenely and quietly that he just seemed to blend in with the woodwork.
Just as he was about to make his way up the stone stairs into the open-aired corrider lining the courtyard, a particularly heavy hufflepuff boy bumped him on the shoulder. "Oh, sorry there, mate. Didn't see ya...honestly!" When he looked down at the sight he had caused, the boy rushed off to his next class, as were the other students. Rivner had lost his balance on the top step and toppled over. It wasn't an incredibly high fall, but from the recent rain he landed in a disgusting mud puddle. "GYEEEEEEEEEHHH!" his high-pitched scream soared from his throat, and he shuddered at the touch of cool mud water seeping through his vest and shirt. Almost in a seizure, Rivner stood up and ran, still wailing to the Slytherin common room. Deserted, for students should have been in class, he ran to the boy's dormitory and stripped off his muddy clothes as if they were drenched in acid. He brought them to the dormitory bathrooms and dumped them in the sink. Rivner thoroughly scrubbed them till they reeked of the lavender soap that was supplied in the boy's dormitory bathrooms. He hung them on the metal bar in front of the furnace that usually housed socks to dry. He never let Hogwarts do the washing for his clothes because Rivner felt like they just didn't do his clothes justice.
It was now more than a mental thing than the physical damage done by stains. Rivner was currently in the shower scrubbing his pale body so hard that when he emerged his skin would be raw and pink. Soon, he was spotless and donned a clean set of his house robes. Smiling satisfactorily, Rivner hummed as folded his dry robes and set them in his trunk. All this time, Marge had been floating around lazily, waiting for her owner's return. When Rivner did come back and prop it back on his shoulder did he realize he was supposed to be in transfiguration. But looking at the ticking watch on his pale wrist, Rivner found out that there was only a few minutes to go before he had to head off to lunch. This was the first time he had skipped a class for anything, but didn't care. He was clean, and all was well. Frankly, he could be in Azkaban for all he cared, but as long as he was clean and had Marge, Rivner was happy. He giggled girlishly at something Marge had /told/ him as he skipped out of the common room and off to lunch. He knew nobody missed him in transfiguration and could easily ask the professor for a summarization of today's class.
His text color is #ad8665.
