FULL NAME. Lily Oteale Evans
BIRTHDAY. 30 January, 1960
SEXUALITY. Polysexual (experiencing attraction to multiple genders); Polyamorous
RELATIONSHIP STATUS. Dating James Fleamont Potter
SPOKEN LANGUAGES. English
BIRTHPLACE. Cokeworth, England, Great Britain
ASTROLOGICAL SIGN. Aquarius
EX-HOGWARTS HOUSE. Gryffindor
BOGGART. confinement (more as a concept; but any small, dark space conjures the same sort of feeling); witnessing death; failing herself + failing others
ALLIED WITH. the Order of the Phoenix
thick. coarse. curly, and a deep shade of orange-red. Lily’s hair is altogether unmanageable. especially now that she’s not taking good care of it, it tends to tumble as it pleases: down her back, so long that it gets caught under her while she sleeps (or worse, under James– waking him when this happens is always a chore beyond comparison, partly because he sleeps like a goddamned dead person, and partly just because she’ll find herself simply stuck in a position that isn’t the most opportune for kicking him into consciousness); it tangles in her eyelashes and knots up in the wind; it frizzes over the edge of unruly in the humid English summers. she only ever manages to work a comb through it in the shower, on the second round of conditioning– trying to brush it at any other point, wet or dry, is like combing a horse’s tail. luckily for her, she’s used to it. Lily grew up very mindful of the condition in which she kept her hair, but since she moved in with Dorcas and Marlene, and the War entered a darker place than she could have anticipated, it’s been altogether too high-maintenance for her. she had Marlene hack off a good five inches when it reached that unbearable length where she could sit on it. even so, it remains long, massive, and aggravatingly in her way. now, in her unconcern, she showers every couple of days, maybe twice a week. she’s taken tying it up into marvelously oversized buns on the top of her head while she sleeps, and pulling it lazily free in the mornings. her favored style changes every so often, but lately she’s been keeping it in a low ponytail, secured at the base of her neck.
fair & extremely freckled. Lily’s skin looks positively polka-dotted in some places– her shoulders and upper back being exceptional examples. her entire face sports the soft orange pencil points of freckles: cheeks dotted; forehead, too, especially around her hairline; crowded thicker at her temples; traveling along her jawline and chin. growing up, she found it entirely atrocious. standing next to Petunia, who seemed to be the poster-child for fair skin, made her flushed and self-conscious. she would hardly even look in a mirror. but sometime during her years at Hogwarts– perhaps coincidentally (and perhaps not) close to around the beginning of James’ courting of her– she finally grew into them. or, at the least, into an appreciation of them. now, she remains pretty indifferent, but certainly no longer does she nurse any insecurities.
ETHNICITY. English / French / Belgian / Senegalese
Lily is stretched out: long limbed and lilting in her walk. she’s tall and narrow, and, if she weren’t so self-assured, the surprising lack of grace in her movements would come across similar to that of a baby deer’s. she’ll knock things over in the sweeping gesture of her arm, or bump her hip into the edge of the table when she walks through the kitchen. even so, she’s got a self-assuredness that puts purpose in her oft’ clumsy or oafish movements; makes them distinctly her, and oddly charming. she’s got long fingers like a pianist, perfect for wedging a cigarette between; and a long neck which she often extends to one side to show she’s bored with what you’re saying. she has never been a particularly muscular girl, but her arms are beginning to flesh out a bit as her physical limits are tested during stake outs and missions.
for all her pragmatism, Lily’s style is a bit… eclectic. she’s an impulsive buyer, and a firm believer in muggle fashion and the “one-of-a-kind” jumper, which leads to her thrifting a lot of clothing, and especially a lot of useless and dysfunctional pieces. you’ll find her in wooly jumpers paired with straight-legged trousers; leather jackets thrown haphazardly over long muggle dresses & flannels & bright orange nail polish; soft camisoles hidden beneath rumpled tweed blazers; James’ t-shirt worn as a dress, with his roaring lion jumper overtop like a jacket (she does favor that one, in particular). fingerless gloves and thick socks peeping out over the top of her ever-present, and faithfully loved Doc Martens. Lily would be nothing if not recognizable for her Docs alone– plain and scuffed at the toes, the leather worn soft, the laces loose and floppy and in various states of actually being tied. she is also not the most orderly person– so much of what she owns (which is too much to begin with) can be found strewn about her floor, wrinkled simply from sitting out to dry on her bed or over the back of a chair. perhaps it’s the fact that she’s often fairly unconcerned to start with about which matches what, or perhaps it’s because she’s just enamored with all her jumpers– each more colorful and ill-fitting than the last– but somehow, despite the wool socks and holey denim, Lily still manages to make everything she puts on appear as “a look.” and anyways, she thinks she’s the most fashionable person ever; everything she owns is comfortable, and therefore practical, and what looks smarter than a closet full of useful clothing?
Lily’s got a way about her. she commands attention without any grand gestures; she can enter a room and shift everything therewithin towards the center of her gravity. it’s not that she’s particularly graceful, or boisterous, or overly charming; she isn’t. it’s more of a quality– the way the light settles on her hair, the steadiness of her hand when she raises her wand, the brightness of her voice when she speaks. there’s an effortless authenticity about her that’s absolutely compelling. Lily’s naturally a flame to which others find themselves drawn; her ingenuity, her confidence, and her kindness make her easy for almost anyone to talk to. she’s got a way of really making people feel heard, and she’s hugely sympathetic. she tends to loll her head to one side when she’s listening, furrow her eyebrows; little things that show she cares about what you’re saying to her. she’ll laugh the loudest at your jokes, but only if they’re really, actually funny, which somehow makes you want to make her laugh even more. Lily’s laugh is a praise most high. she’s passionate, and it shows in the flash of her eyes alone; Lily refuses for even one second to spend time talking about things that she finds boring, or to listen to people who think it is cool to talk about the things they dislike– she believes there’s nothing more interesting than having a conversation about things that are actually important to the person she’s talking to. it’s this inherent vivaciousness for life and conversation and expression; this unabashed honesty to be assertive about what she wants, that makes her so compelling. her compassion for others and her talent for encouraging vulnerability in her friends is an added draw.
x; smoking in bed. initiating physical contact in conversation (brushing hands, nudging shoulders, etc.). grinding her teeth in her sleep. kicking all the covers off the bed at night. falling asleep reading. walking around the flat in various states of dress and undress; cooking/cleaning/lounging in the common spaces in these varied states. leaving her clothes everywhere. not making her bed. twisting her hair in her hands when she’s nervous.
003. PERSONALITY TRAITS & TYPES.
POSITIVE. PRAGMATIC, PASSIONATE, JUST, RATIONAL, HEADSTRONG, OUTSPOKEN, RADIANT, HONEST
NEGATIVE. INDECISIVE, PETTY, CRITICAL, PARANOID, ENVIOUS, ARGUMENTATIVE, DISORGANIZED, BULLHEADED
reading for hours, stretched out diagonally across the bed, the light traveling across the room until it fades into evening; Defense Against the Dark Arts books, lately, in specific. pawing through muggle thrift stores for catchy jumpers. spending time in the company of others, lighting up on the balcony or curled together on the couch under a patchwork of blankets. watching old muggle movies. creating potions out of necessity or boredom, or both. turning James on in inappropriate locations. talking about Quidditch (with James, in particular) for hours; arguing over strategy and reliving past games. arguing with Dorcas about anything. smoking with Hestia. visiting muggle diners with Remus.
These days, Lily worries little about the frizz and curl of her ridiculously wild hair; her uncountable freckles; her long, bony fingers, always blue from poor circulation; her towering height. If she hasn’t come to embrace these things, at the least, she’s come to accept them– as wholly as anyone can accept themselves, exactly for who they are. Yet Lily fosters deep anxieties and insecurities, inwardly: she fears that she is not capable enough to protect her friends, who not only mean everything in the world to her but indeed build the entire world that she lives in. She doesn’t always trust herself to know what is best for everyone, & especially those she most seeks to help and protect; she is oft’ times self-conscious when speaking to other members in the Order as a result (even though she’d never much let on). She also is experiencing a great insecurity in her relationship with James (some thanks to bloody Black, though she wouldn’t let on about that either)– for the first time, their stability is not only in question but shambles; she makes up for it sporadically, and in, perhaps, the least thorough or thought-out way she has ever done anything before in her life.
ENNEAGRAM TYPE. Type 2 (2w3): The Helper (wing: The Achiever)
MORAL ALIGNMENT. Neutral Good
TEMPERAMENT (X). Sanguine
CONFIDENT OR SELF-CONSCIOUS?
CAUTIOUS OR CARELESS? (careless with herself; cautious with others)
BOOK SMARTS OR STREET SMARTS?
COMPLIMENTS OR INSULTS? (back-handed compliments & loving insults, by turns)
COLD HANDS OR WARM HEART?
COLOURS. the red underbelly of a sunset. the red of a bright nail polish. the soft red of a scab. the orange cast of autumn light. white fingers in black hair. the off-white of old sheets. the green of minty gum. the pink of a mouth. the pink of a rose petal. the soft, velvet tawny of a baby deer. multi-colored christmas lights.
WORDS. fire, radiance, gloss, clamor, coruscate, dalliance, appetite, anymore, sexual, volatile, shoulder, front, milky, feverish, bloom, fuck.
SCENT. the soft, left-over smell of cigarette smoke clinging to fabric. ginger & clove & chai. clean laundry. woodsmoke. the sweetness of wildflowers. chocolate & cherry.
TASTE. the salt of sweat. tobacco. cherry coke. warm, rich, chocolate cake with sticky icing. a shoulder in your mouth.
SOUND. peals of laughter like a bell rising above a crowd. a door slamming. a quill scratching parchment. piano music. the rustle of grass in a field. the rustle of fabric being touched, rumpled, falling to the floor. a gasp for breath; a girlish moan.
MAGIC. a hex to twist your ankle; a hex to tickle you. Lumos in the soft light of pre-dawn, to find clothes hastily discarded the night before. turning everything into teacups– even other kinds of glasses and mugs- with a lazy flick of the wrist. potions books collecting dust in towers alongside a mattress; big cauldrons doubling as laundry baskets. Colloportus!
WEATHER. the first, sudden warm day of spring, the sun spilling through the clouds onto the grass. the damp of pre-dawn, the sky solidly overcast, the light pale and washed. late, crisp, hot blue nights. a thunderstorm in the middle of summer.
FEELING. the drop of your stomach at the top of a roller coaster. fingers tracing up and down your spine. the leftover wetness of a kiss pressed to your neck. the almost uncomfortable heat of the sun on your face on a hot day. the buzzing energy of being turned on. a love so powerful & consuming it only takes one look. the worn softness of your favorite t-shirt. pulling at a knot in your hair with a comb. finishing a good book. the exhilaration of learning a new spell; the dizziness of apparition. the narrowing of the world to one other person.
MEMORY. the coolness of Hogwarts’ classrooms. the redness of cheeks and the fogging of breath as the entire school huddled in the stands watching a Quidditch match. the days lost to one long stretch of gray, overcast sky; cold winter water. the lurching of the train as it exits the station. waiting cross-armed and foot-tapping at the end of the corridor for the Marauders to come bustling out of class. a hand up her blouse in the Potions classroom; the pressing of hip bones.
TOUCH. thick, itchy jumpers. the tenderness of a bruise. hands pulling hair. goosebumps. smooth wand wood.
