BASICS.
NAME: Pansy Genevieve Manon Parkinson.
BIRTHDAY: None of your business.
HOUSE: Slytherin.
YEAR: Seventh.
STAR-SIGN: Cancer.
BLOODLINE: Pureblood.
SEXUALITY: Heterosexual.
WAND: 9", Rosewood, Dragon's heartstring core.
CLASS SCHEDULE: (x)

RELATIONSHIPS OF NOTE: Pansy's on good terms with many of her house-mates, as one would expect. Her usual circle can include Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass and an exclusive pack of senior Slytherin girls of which she leads. The Parkinson-Malfoy match has always been a lingering rumour, but while Pansy indulges in the idea-- it's no secret where her affection is-- it's also a no-go zone in conversation.

APPEARANCE.
HEIGHT: 5’5”
WEIGHT: 115lbs.
GENERAL: It’s a quiet miracle that Pansy’s face managed to catch up with that nose. It stood out, so broad of bridge and upturned of tip, in her youth; and while it may do so at particular angles still, the elongating of her face in general and the new definition in her cheeks has made the imperfection understated and unworthy of much fretting. She might not be the prettiest girl in the world, but she’s hardly a “have-not”; and what she does have, she presents as well as she possibly can. Unexpectedly not one of those people who can look into a mirror without seeing a list of flaws, immaculacy is a daily aim for Pansy; her peachy complexion is always very clear, her eyebrows primped, her teeth white, her lips dark and prone to smirking. Each feature: a testimony to her nitpickiness, her time spent fussing to promote perfection.

Her eyes are round— doe-like, really— but a rather typical shade of brown, for which she is likely resentful of. More outstanding is her hair, glossy and black and fine. Grown long now, to her lower back, it's usually well-combed and nicely swept over her left shoulder with very simple clips or headbands or whatever other pretty little thing she finds charming. She is more petite than she seems at first, since with her taste for well-soled and heeled shoes, she manages to walk about an additional bundle of inches higher than she is— and that, coupled with her straight-backed and chin-raised self-assurance, can make a person forget she's no Amazon. Light-bodied, but not ill-proportioned or lacking in ordinary curve, her build is lean; but with none of that androgynous sort of waifiness that's so desired these days.
FASHION STYLE: Pansy is always on point with the latest threads and accessories; favouring the expensive, girlishly preppy wears which suits her. If it is en vogue, if it is unaffordable, if it is feminine; usually, Pansy has ordered it directly.

HISTORY.
FATHER: Christopher Parkinson. (x)
MOTHER: Marguerite Parkinson (née de Boissieux). (x)
HOME: Parkinson Manor; Oxfordshire, England. Other properties include a smaller home in London, and her maternal grandmother's estate in France. (x)
FAMILY: The Parkinson family, for all their deep-rooted history as purebloods, have been in something of a rut for the last two centuries or so. For generations upon generations, indeed, they have proved themselves as industrious and shrewd businessmen with impeccable timing in market-jumping... but like many other families living under the shadow of other outstanding kin, such as the Malfoys and the Blacks, while not lacking in material wealth or corporate power, they still found themselves second best. Rather than instigating competition, however, as would more bold, and likely more naïvely-run, businesses; the Parkinsons accepted their place as a matter of course, and found influence as one of the Malfoys grandest supporters— until their public defamation with the falling of the Dark Lord’s second coming. While the Parkinsons were not shocked by their involvement in the War (they genuinely supported it, in fact), this turn-out has seen a stalemate in their corporate functions this year. How odd it must be, for them, to have found themselves at the very top of the podium due to their favourite allies’ stumble.
BACKGROUND: Those who know Pansy, and try to imagine what her upbringing was like; likely aren’t wrong with their speculations that she was a spoiled child, or that her parents raised her with a very strict grip. For all intents and purposes, her childhood was very typical of a wealthy pureblood; elaborate teas with grandmother on Sundays, smacks on the bottom for speaking unduly at the dinner-table, complete ostracizing of the muggle world and relatives who found fascination in such things. Marguerite, Pansy’s mother, was a very present parent; her own family had prospered, but in a much milder manner, in France, and so she had never had to find a profession as anything but a wife and a mother. She would be the first to say that she had flourished in both. Her marriage to Pansy’s father, Christopher, was a very strong match, especially for one that had been rushed along by peripheral pressure; and while Pansy was an only child, Marguerite cared for her well, with a gentle attentiveness, and saw that she was certainly not a girl who ever went wanting.

Indeed, Pansy was well taken care of by her mother; she who was always tapping her back, reminding her to sit up straight, or complimenting a new dress (hopefully worn by Pansy herself, but not always). The simple things were Marguerite’s forte, the prettiness of this and that person, the importance of marrying well— it was Christopher who was the intellectual and whose word commandeered the household despite his lengthy absences from it, by reason of business. Very sheltered was she, and only with a selective huddle of children whom she was able to socialise with; Pansy had no idea what a muggle was until she was nine-years-old or so, when a societal dinner paired her father, her uncles and grandfather together with a cluster of other family friends. It was an important moment for her, listening to their rants— seeing her stony father speak with complete loathing amongst other, equally significant men who hollered in fierce agreement. Pansy’s attitude, which had grown irreversibly stubborn by then, was permanently tweaked after a mere twenty-minute conversation.

Her road to bigotry had already begun by then; Pansy had developed a sharp tongue, especially for a child, but she also had the smarts to let it work its cruel magic on children she disliked when she was sure she wouldn’t be caught. But, after that, she began to travel at full-speed. As she grew older, her mother fussed over her less and less, taking instead to a life of leisure and following her father about the place— naturally, Pansy was very unimpressed at this, but became resigned to the fact that her mother, for all her great knowledge of beauty and how one might somehow acquire it, was not really the sort of woman she wanted to mould herself against anyway. Still, affected by her influence in many, many ways nevertheless, Pansy’s most prized gifts to receive were porcelain dolls, the expensive and terribly ornate kind; she would flaunt them in front of her friends a great deal, often walking about the family manor with one draped innocently over one arm like a trophy.

Finally, Pansy was sent to Hogwarts, her traditional ideals and anti-muggle prejudices sealed to her like iron bolts, and unsurprisingly, she was sorted into Slytherin; the house which her father, and her father’s father, and her father’s father’s father, had each thrived in. Popularity did not elude her, which she was quietly grateful for; she found like-minded friends to listen to her dominating opinions and hum in agreement. Worked wonders for the ego, truly, but Pansy wasn’t silly enough to know that she wasn’t a force to be reckoned with in some ways; she was hardly afraid of speaking her mind, and she knew the most of her gaggle for the sheep they were. Expressing rage through physical brutality was beneath her, but obtaining revenge when slighted through alternative means was certainly not. There was only one individual whom she would have ever allowed herself to be thwarted by in whatever way, and that is only due to the common malfunction of a naïve heart. She is still just a girl, after all. Dreadful, really.

PERSONALITY.
OVERVIEW: Pansy has always been quite an opinionated girl. From her earliest years with her mother, when she didn’t like something, there was no way that everyone didn’t know it; and for the most part, that works well for her. Pansy likes and sees things a certain way, and rather than smile in the face of another person’s alternative view in order to keep conversation comfortable, she will reject forced niceties and point out what she doesn’t agree with. Abrupt? Not quite— Pansy is not entirely without guile when it comes to socialising, she knows when to speak her mind and when to be quiet and pretend to not hear the other person speaking “rubbish”, but when it comes to speaking to those of an equal or lesser level to her, she can be quite insensitive in her manner of pronouncing her own, likely different thoughts. Like most people, Pansy does not enjoy being disagreed with; but she is not scared of arguments. Au contraire, she is a verbal being— she always has been, it’s one of her better talents— and when it would appear that a debate is coming her way, she steps up to the plate with a sharp, manipulative tongue that makes it’s points with a typically condescending tone.

Pansy doesn’t just like to argue; she likes the other person to walk away feeling stupid for doubting her realm of thought in the first place, it means there’s a lesser chance of them being doing so again. Sometimes she’ll do it with flowery use of language, other times she’ll be completely blunt, it doesn’t matter as long as she’s the one laughing in the end. She’ll argue until her face is red— even when she knows she’s wrong, she’ll try not to let it on, and while those with lesser stamina may often find themselves simply waving their hand and saying “whatever”, Pansy has no problem clubbing a dog until its dead and beyond.

Pig-headedness is definitely one of her most prominent lesser qualities, which is a little funny because Pansy is very aware of her flaws. In her head, yes, Pansy is a very important person with a great deal of responsibility; a lot of people look up to her, and why wouldn’t they? She works exceptionally hard in whatever subject she decides to put her effort into— she really strives to be the best in her decided pursuits, and she will fight tooth and nail to get there. Second place is not an option. It is obvious to her that the world is an unkind place, and that only a certain number of people are able to work their way into greatness within it, and she’ll be damned if she is not one of those people; if it means breaking down her competition by strength of will, intellect, or by more scrupulous means, Pansy will do what she thinks she must and feel little remorse in it. At the very heart of her character, Pansy is a perfectionist— a trait she likely inherited from her father— but unlike him, she doesn’t have the wisdom of years to know when she has gone from ‘being demanding’ to ‘being ridiculous’. She has extremely high standards, for other people and especially herself, and when they are not met, her retribution can be terrible and her opinion turned irreversibly stale. She is the epitome of a sore loser— sore doesn’t even cover it. She has mini-meltdowns, she cries, she stomps her foot and screams into pillows loud enough to make her throat hurt, and avoids her reflection in the mirror for days. Failure and rejection is not something Pansy accepts well.

Socially, she is one to be wary of since she goes out of her way to know a great deal of things about a great deal of people. Some gossips are useful enough to be her friends; yet what she takes from them is hardly returned in some way, since Pansy knows to try to avoid being fodder for them in either a negative or positive manner. She has a good understanding of how people work; how the power of the mob can overwhelm that of an individual, and that is why she has been very articulate in making friends with a more easily-led pack of girls in Slytherin, if only so that when she insults someone, there’s a group behind her to laugh and join with her. Much like herself but not quite as bright; for indeed, were Pansy to find herself being in very close company to a girl of equal footing intelligence-wise, there could be problems. Jealousy is an issue she’s had trouble with since her earliest days, be it the predicament of her being an only child or just being a fiercely competitive child in general. With possessions, with people, with herself; Pansy is incredibly susceptible to envy and resentment. It’s a completely engulfing sensation for her, she doesn’t quite know how to handle it, except to make sure it is not as obvious as it is; for one cannot attack one’s weak spot when they don’t know where it is, after all, and being a person that is pretty skilled in targeting others, Pansy knows she ought to watch her own back lest the same thing be done to her.

Pansy has a few weak spots, though. Once she gives her loyalty to a person, it is quite unbreakable, and so she expects the same in return— but if that goes wrong, if she is betrayed in whatever way, she is either likely to blame it on some mistake of her own in order to rebuild a relationship with that person, as would likely be the case with her very nearest in dearest, or she removes them from her favour entirely. Things do not ‘heal over’ for Pansy when she has been wronged; forgiveness is an unattainable concept a great deal of the time, since she is not the sort of girl who reacts well to having her pride or feelings hurt. Still, there are some good things about her— for all her faults and quiet insecurities, gifts from a beauty-conscious mother no doubt, Pansy is a remarkable friend. If someone she cares for wishes for requires her help with something, she'll give all she can. Pansy can be warm— in her own way— and very encouraging. Much like her father, whose manner is so understated and humourless that those who did not know him would be surprised he's capable of rosy affection; behind Pansy’s sarcastic words and hard expressions, is a rather soft, gullible push-over; a push-over that requires some goading and elbow-nudges from the right people to appear, no doubt, but a push-over nevertheless. Also, her morals are what they are and cannot be changed— Pansy doesn’t like to pretend to be anything but what she believes herself to be, and so, hypocrisy is something she stands against quite fiercely. She is not a coward at her core— the only opinions that matter to her are her own, which is the harshest, and that of her family.

Hardly a tom-boy, despite being just a little more comfortable in the company of boys than girls— for with the latter, at least with those equally strong in personality, Pansy is too often able to pick up an underlying sense of rivalry— Pansy finds genuine pleasure in all things feminine. Fashion, make-up, she embraces it all; collecting Witch Weekly magazines and always being very particular about keeping up with the new trends coming out of her favourite fashion houses. Her personal style, while conservative, is always very chic; she knows not to overdo certain things, she knows the difference between eccentricity and down-right fashion faux pas, and considering herself quite the snob in this area, Pansy is frightfully judgemental over the wears of other people. Why wouldn’t anyone care about the way they look? She can’t understand that sort of nonchalance. There are less shallow things that she finds delight in; the greater of which is animals, unicorns especially, which she can’t possibly help but coo over. Though incapable of caring well over any herself, Pansy admires animals from afar; so free they seem, at times, with no societal obligation or requirement to feign emotions, they act exactly how they feel and are never restricted from doing so. Except by humans, of course— and what does that say about them?

Pansy is drawn to emotionally-driven people, likely because she is motivated by those primal things herself and depises the feeling of being alone, as any teenager does, and perhaps that is one of the reasons she followed Draco around for years. She does not openly gush over other good-looking boys, not in comparison to other girls her age; it’s normally an odd day for her to speak on the attractiveness of any male, however brilliantly blessed in the looks department they are. In fact, to many it would seem as if Pansy has hardly any interest in the opposite sex at all (although that is not to imply that the fairer sex might suit her better), save for anything half-heartedly ‘platonic’; but those who are familiar enough with her, or at least a member of the Slytherin house, know that that's likely because there’s only ever been one person who's been the apple of her eye romantically. Pansy dearly loves a laugh, this is another thing she is a typical girl about; she likes nothing more than sitting back and giggling at a good joke— whether at someone else’s expense or not. Perhaps that's another reason she adores Draco so much; his sense of humour is so similar to her own, being around him always guarentees hilarity.

The future? It scares Pansy very much, now. With the Dark Lord having been abolished, something that she would have never expected, what path is there for those of the pureblood society who were banking on his uprising, even secretly, such as the Parkinsons? One would suppose that things are to go as the past has dictated, with purebloods still chugging along with their chauvinistic values and rejection of muggles, but many worry that the victory of Harry Potter encourages too many liberal thoughts in pureblooded people; and Pansy is one of those very worriers. She had an extremely precise idea of how her life was going to be— how well she would perform in school, at which age she would marry, what title in her family’s corporation would be hers, how many children she would like— but with this turn of the tide, Pansy fears everything is terribly up in the air.
ADDITIONAL HABITS: It’s important to note that in comparison to most teens, pureblood, wealthy or otherwise, Pansy doesn’t partake in drinking often. It either gets her mind racing or dulls her wits entirely— neither effect being to her taste— and the buzz can cause her to be more unguarded than she’d prefer. She (usually) reserves such behaviour for special occasions; societal functions outside of Hogwarts, mostly, where she’s around people she’s comfortable with.

MISC.
FAVOURITE BOOK: Not that Pansy doesn’t enjoy the odd novel, but her Witch Weekly subscriptions are very precious.
FAVOURITE COLOUR: Pink is very lovely. Pansy is also quite partial to silver and gold; the shimmer, she adores it.
FAVOURITE SMELL: Clean fragrances. Soap, freshly-washed laundry, etc.
FAVOURITE FLAVOUR: Vanilla. Call it boring however much you want, but its Pansy’s favourite.
FAVOURITE MUSIC: As long as it's none of those bands that smash guitars and scream into their wands so loud one can't even make out the lyrics, and as long as it's a wizarding band, Pansy can listen to it fine. She is rather fond of dancing.
FAVOURITE PLACE: The parties outside of Hogwarts always go down well, wherever they’re held. As for approximate locations with sentimental value; the attic of her grandmother's manor is quite a sanctuary.
FAVOURITE ANIMAL: Unicorns, of course.
FAVOURITE INSECT: Moths.

OOC.
NAME: Tyla.
AGE: 19.
AIM : ohmyposh.
DISCLAIMER: Not Pansy, not Miss Valette! All icons provided by snezana.