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by **Anastaise Valois** » Mon Jan 23, 2012 3:12 pm

" s'il vous plaît ne laissez pas s'envoler,
jamais laissez-moi aller,"

ministry file;

FULL NAME: anastaise babette valois
KNOWN AS: anastaise, ana
NICKNAMES: ana, annie, an
ARCHTYPE: the broken china
FACE CLAIM: canadian model anais pouliot

AGE: eighteen years
DATE OF BIRTH: 14th may, 1978
PLACE OF BIRTH: etincelles, france
PLACE OF RESIDENCE: london, england

SPECIES: witch
BLOOD HERITAGE: pure-blood
ETHNICITY: french
NATIONALITY: french
ORIENTATION: heterosexual
MEDICAL HISTORY: diagnose of anxiety, paranoia and severe obsessive-compulsive-disorder
FINANCIAL STATUS: upperclass
PROFESSION: reserve chaser for the braga broomfleet
EMPLOYER: n/a
PAST EMPLOYMENT:

EDUCATION: Beauxbatons 1995 alumna
WAND HAND: right.
WAND: fleur de lys and matagot hair- 8 ¾ inches.
PATRONUS: empereur de papillon (emperor butterfly)
BOGGART: disorderly artefacts, chaos, mess, change

EYES: brown
HAIR: brown
HEIGHT: 5'7''
WEIGHT: 117
HEALTH: physically wise; able. mentally; poor
ALLERGIES: sashimi
PIERCINGS/TATTOOS: ears

FATHER: horeau yves valois
MOTHER: bernadette mathilde valois nee’ ackland
SIBLINGS:

PREVIOUS CLUBS/ORGANIZATIONS:

N.E.W.T. SCORES:
arithmancy; e
astrology; e
charms; e
defense against the dark arts; a
divination; e
etiquette; o
french history; o
potions; e
transfiguration; a

appearance;

It is acceptable to announce the sheer prominence of the Valois line amongst Anastaise’s features. Her bee-sting swollen lips and constantly drowsy eyes are a dead give-away towards the families ethnicities. Sheen waves of coconut skin brown elopes against Ana’s scalp, soft and silky from the constant macabre attempts in vain to live up to her parents social life. Pallid skin etches upon a heart-shaped face, doltish with little beauty marks alike- quite the trait from her mother’s side. You could say that Anastaise holds a very doll-like porcelain stereotype amongst her features for her skin is smooth, her cheeps full, lips constant in a pout and oppressive chocolate eyes wide. The only ostensible act that betrays such an ingénue standards, are the thick and straight brows that linger upon Anastaise’s face. In fact, she’d consider her eyebrows to act as a natural flaw, and desperately attempts to diminish their stubborn shape with magical tweezers.

In a form of fashion, growing in a French variant of ‘the upper east side’, Anastaise would previously, as a young girl- don elaborate designs only fit for the rich and famous. Her hair would constantly fringe back in the latest designs and only the most supple and soft high class make-up graces the rouge of her cheekbones and caress of her lips. Even to this day does Anastaise feel peculiar over such make-up that she occasionally cakes her face with, and her inner snootiness only elopes in designer-labelled brands. However over the years, her clothing has diminished to almost regular standards- skinny jeans and black coat and white scarf. What Ana prefers to don is always classy, no matter the material and her eye for fashion never ends there- for Ana constantly appears prim and pressed and chic, no matter the occasion. Hell, she’d even elaborate on a lovely little hairstyle even for a quidditch practise- physical impression is often key, her mother would grill her with.

personality;

Lipstick and pretty hair and dainty nails used to be the existence of Anastaise Babette Valois. She in short, holds the status of a material girl- proper shoes and shiny teeth and perfect black kohl eyeliner acts the bible to her own personal religion. It is just as it is that Ana is quite the perfectionist- especially in looks. Almost with the synthetics of someone with elaborate vainness, Anastaise will go great lengths to present herself with an acceptable speck- and sacrifices time as well as money to appear as beautiful as possible. Plainly, this is not due to immense love over her own figure and face alone, but is the results of the incredibleness that is her fear of appearing out of place and uncompromising. Ana is a purist and obsessed over being perfect- looking perfect- allowing others to consult her as the existence of perfect and well… when things aren’t to her expectations, when things are out of place, when her make-up smudges around the rim of her dewy eyes, then we have a problem.

Call it OCD, call it anxiety disorder, call it whatever. All in all, the fickle mind that withdraws within Ana’s skull is delicate, fragile to which a single ripple of abnormalness can cause the motif of a tsunami. Those who know Anastaise, recalls her as fragile- handle with care. She is without doubt, emotionally friable. To which, excessive amounts of grief is tenuous to a girl like Anastaise, and she herself finds a precarious sighting to cry and act like a rigid mourner when even the slightest problem is to occur. She is brittle over people, and whilst she holds herself with high dignity- she is self-conscious of those around her, and how they percept her, leaving Ana to appear flimsy and tense.

However, whilst Ana tends to stay grounded with her fretting, she does like to bustle her way into dreamland often- but more so a sense of meditative aspects. Anastaise enjoys the idea of contemplation, philosophy, soul-searching. You name it. She herself, acts the idealist- always self-absorbed amongst questions and authorities, why the world came to be- endless questions like that. It’s predicted that Anastaise is an extremely pensive girl, and relies on her intuition over any to accumulate living. She does not approve of instructions, yet will ballantly act in a civil tone, quite possibly from the etiquette lessons back in Beauxbatons. However, Ana holds very weak opinions, and whilst she is reflective- often ends up tongue-tied in her own debate lessons and can never seem to accumulate a proper decision. Saying so, when she cannot make up her mind- this immediately hollers back to her anxious apprehensive and fretful fate.

Yet, whilst Ana is restless, whilst she can act fervent, she is a sweet girl. Soft-hearted and light-lipped, Anastaise still holds her elite prominence close to heart, and her romantic bohemian aura often preludes a very naïve and comely reconsolidation to others. She is to honesty, approachable, and her gentle demeanour often results to a more or less, optimistic first impression. Of course, before her anxiety allows itself to trickle past. Whilst modern, whilst stylish and whilst chic- Anastaise does prefer the quiet life. Elaborate objects and ideas are a fear, and the haunting idea of growing up and facing the big bad world develops a fret within Ana’s mind. She gets easily upset over ideas such as accidents and trauma, and holds dearly a fear of venturing over to the wild side intact.

Anastaise however, holds a clear fascination and consistent awe over those who do however- whether it be in the shape and form of a ‘bad boy’ or a ‘femme fatale.’ As long as she’s not the one getting hurt. The idea itself, of someone with such a torrential life is enough for Ana to live by that, and she cowers in fear at the idea of anything deemed scandalous, but holds no trouble egging someone else to participate instead. However, there is one adrenaline rush that Anastaise holds no fret over. And that is quidditch. Violently passionate about the sports, it seems to hold the only source of dangerous sporting that doesn’t conclude to a two hour therapy session over anxiety. Quite possibly, quidditch is the only reason to why Anastaise has left the nest- for it holds the only reliable sense of jubilance over Anastaise. The rest? Terror.

Strengths: introspective, idealistic, benign, classy, gentle, soft-hearted
Weaknesses: fragile, conceited, perfectionist, volatile, anxious, paranoid

history;

Start; The Valois clan have another child to their wolfpack.

Fast Forwards; Anastaise Valois is the sakuras flower of the moment.

Pause; A girl who’s here because she was meant to be.

Play; It’s all in her head.

Stop.

The noble house of Valois holds a strong and horrendous past. Horeau Yves father, a wealthy thief, had stolen a mass fortune from a dear friend during the late 1800’s, the same money in fact, that started the reign of Valois Et Livre D'Histoire., a world-wide leading wizarding book chain, selling high and hefty manuscripts and text books and novels galore. With black money used on muggle trafficking, the Valois fortune had started off with a rough shield. Socially, everyone considered the Valois’ to be a little bit of a failure- or it had started off to be as Grandpapa Valois inspired his stolen money into elaborate books and artefacts, opening the first Valois ETD’H in Etincelle’s; 1901. And instead of the failure that had been anticipated, it had started a new reign of upper-class victims.

Enter; Anastaise Valois is born the third child to Horeau and Bernadette on the 14th of May 1978. She is just another daughter- just another little pretty princess to dress up and bring to tea-parties and one day marry into an equally rich chauvinistic prison. Anastaise is born just like any other. Her father, the current owner of Valois ETD’H was of course, a no nonsense military type of man who didn’t take no for an answer, and viewed his daughters as nothing but money-makers, evident ways to clamour to the top of the ranks. His wife, related to the Ackland’s and Lafayette’s, had been a pleasant little trick into tying the business with the more prominent of the French upper-class societies- nothing but a trophy wife that kept on producing girls.

With an older brother- heir to the company and two other sisters, it was evident that Anastaise was born as just another little girl. Théo, with five years to her senior- was daddy’s favourite. Elaborately calm, collected and poised, he was everything that you would need to succeed to a multi-million company. And he made that evident with his steely glaze and hard-headed ways from day one as a child. Whilst he was the oldest, Théo was by no means, the father figure. In fact, it was debatable to say that in the Valois family- there was no fatherly figure. Next to date, was Élisabeth- sweet, sweet Élisabeth. She was the epitome of all creations lovely, all things bright and beautiful. And she was the reason to which the whole dollhouse demeanour all started. Bernadette herself, would often fufil her daughters lives with cherished possessions, little candies and words of sugar spun madness. She’s dress them up and down all in pink chiffon and pearly lace and didn’t blink twice over the bill. And Élisabeth? Élisabeth was her number one doll.

In comes Pénélope Valois- the basketcase. Daring, loud, eccentric- she didn’t believe no nothing over clothes and jewellery and pretty macaroons lined in a row. She wanted dirty dusty adventure in the landscapes of Egypt, the Sahara, the Great Wall- Pénélope unlike her comely attraction of a name, was a wild child. And she was everything Anastaise was not. Boom and Ana is here- raw faced and dark hair and dark eyes and the calamity span of a speck. She’s anxiety-ridden with OCD tendencies and the need to be perfect. Flawless, seamless, impeccable. Complete. Dark haired girl needs to be perfect. Last of all, comes the boy. Jérôme. Crooked teeth and watery eyes, he’s no lovely boy- but he is the solitaire kitchen prince. He was the loner of the five, by himself. Alone, solitaire- that was how he liked it. Nothing but himself. And with the tongue of a patisserie and the soul of a chocolate vault- Jérôme had no instincts to co-run a company. None of them did to be quite frank. The idea of their families tainted company at their fingertips were as undesirable as blue cheese. No one wanted it. Except for Théo- but he didn’t count.

Now growing up alongside four other siblings could have been proven to act harshly upon Anastaise but in overall reality, life was never dull. Absolute havoc could have been induced, but coming from a line of high-class modest-tempered relatives, the Valois children all bit their tongues whilst they sipped their teas and allowed satin white bows to choke at their porcelain neck. That was, from an early settlement, was the life of the Valois family. Elites. And that was what Anastaise was. With two pure-blooded parents, muggle interaction was rare, apart from the occasional shopping trips to Paris, and the majority of her life, Ana had been influenced wholly by wizards and witches alone. Of course, until the time she arrived in Beauxbatons.

Beauxbatons itself, was a lot more dreary than she could have ever anticipated. It wasn’t as clean, as comely nor as robust as her lace-trimmed canopy bed and crystal perfume jars lined in a row. Ana was shaky and frail and upon her first day, her breath would hitch in her throat and of course, the majority of her apprehensive disposition; fickle against the stream of change. In a singular phrase, the whole ordeal of boarding school and leaving home itself, was a frightful burden to Ana and in a strict sense- the lave of her schooling career started off with concern.

She however, would act diligently in her classes- almost to a pact where Anastaise found herself in quite possibly the top 25% in her year. Doubtfully however, her relapse over her homesickness would take a turn of coil once in a while, and professors alike would tut their heads at the vacant seat whilst Ana herself willowed away in misery in the nursing home, profusely drenching the cotton sheets in tears over the yearning of home. She in simple standards, had always been emotionally fragile over such a sore subject as independence and viral modifications in life. Such a bright mind, with such a taint of worry.

One thing that never seemed to supress question however, was Anastaise’s dire love with quidditch. Such a dangerous sport to so many levels, such a large insulin of adrenalin rush, such a hazard. And Ana loved it. Her first broomstick had respectively been her older brothers, but Théo held no inspiration over flying to that matter, and it was evidently only interested in the more prominent political side of the family, sports acting to the least of his mind. Of course, after years and years of sneaking out into the woods that bordered her home and practising to the witness of the shallow night, Anastaise- skilled and in particular, not; tried out for the Beauxbaton quidditch team. And made it, third year.

It was happy sailing from then on.

With her new-formed status as chaser, and the eventual settling of her homesickness that had struck the brunette child from eleven to thirteen, it so happened that Anastaise had finally allowed her mind to grip Beauxbatons as home. The visits to the tissue box lessened, and her usual panic attacks weakened as the days rolled by and before she knew it, Anastaise was seventeen and graduating with near perfect averages. Of course. However, the one subject that Anastaise had really found a passion for, was quidditch. That was it- just quidditch. Her French History and Potions and Charms were all favourable, pleasant and prim. But she held no morals, no emotion over any of her subjects. They were all boring and raw and flavourless, and yes the idea of a life behind a desk in a cubicle seemed ideal, sweet and hassle-free. But quidditch was Anastaise’s only reign of a wild life. And she couldn’t part with the only thing that kept her sane.

And it was a big step, from little French girl to immigrating to England. But no French teams or scouts were willing to associate her, and word was that England held the best buys. An owl to a former penpal that she had met at the Triwizard Tournament, three suitcases and two boxes of goods, a hefty little document, and Anastaise was once again, departing from her nest. In less tears however, than the great expedition to Beauxbatons.

And sure, moving countries was scary, but it was in defence, for what she loved; quidditch. And quidditch was the only thing that grasped at her humanity. And sure enough, her trial for the Braga Broomfleet won her a spot in the reserve team- what they called the first baby step, which was fine with Ana. For after all, anything more would have been a bit too fearsome. And so, her new life in London revved up. Cleaning after her roommate and juggling the art of eye make-up and sweaty quidditch practise.

She is stuck in a neon light and it’s all her idea.

famille et les amis;

famille:

aunts -

Didiane Ackland; uncles wife
uncles -

cousins -

les amis

[ An - Az ] Directory

Anastaise Valois -18- Chaser

Anastaise Valois -18- Chaser

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