Post by Deleted on Feb 15, 2016 11:10:51 GMT -7
hello there, my name is zytka kamuntu but you can call me zee. i'm thirty so that makes me an alumnus of uagadou, though i could have been in the gryffindor house. you could say i'm brave, daring, and chivalrous, but i personally think that i am easygoing, self-assured, and wild. people say i look a lot like misty copeland, but i don't really see it...
zytka tusuubira kamuntu
nickname:
zee
age:
thirty
date of birth:
31 august 1993
gender:
witch
blood status:
fullblood
sexuality:
bisexual
house:
uagadou (gryffindor)
occupation:
ancient runes professor
wand:
nine inches, oak, kneazle whisker, springy [not often used]
playby:
misty copeland
appearance:
- five feet, eleven inches
- lithe muscle, graceful movement
________________________________________________________
personality
likes:
bare feet, bright sunlight, heat, hope, luck, swimming, the tingle of magic in her fingers, warm grass, wild roses
dislikes:
clumsiness, cold, gravity, small spaces, wands, winter
erised:
meeting her parents; teaching others about uganda
amortentia:
grass, river water, roses
boggart:
being the cause of someone's death
overall personality:
in some ways, zytka is the demur, soft-spoken woman that everyone would imagine that her mother’s child would be. she has an uncanny ability to hold her tongue, which is especially useful in her chosen vocation; as many times as she wished she could, zytka has never raised her voice to a student because of anger. zytka is also rather easy-going: what will come will come has been the mantra zytka has always lived her life by. while she is certainly not content to sit on the sidelines and let life pass her by, zytka has learned to accept that some things must happen. balance will always be restored, and while sometimes she does not like the method in which this restoration comes, accepting it will make her life better.
in other ways, though, the woman is the ferocious warrior that her father had always imagined in his daughter. she lives outside the rules that society has set in place for her; zytka will never be the type of woman to sit down and shut up and let a man (or another woman, for that matter) do her dirty work. she likes to have her fingers in as many pies as possible, and if anyone tells her that she’s overworking herself, she’ll laugh in their faces. she is a workhorse, made for nonstop movement and steadfast determination. she gets where she needs to go, and that’s confusing for the people who see her as nothing more than a laidback professor. she has the self-assurance to back her ferocious side - zytka has always known that she was loved, which gave her an immense freedom.
while she has personality traits that mark her as her parents’ child, zytka separates herself from both of them in her absolute faith in luck. there is no such thing as a long shot for zytka; anything and everything is possible. she will chase a dream to the ends of the earth and back again, driven only by the knowledge that one day, she will catch it. while she believes in luck, that’s about the only higher power that zytka believes in; no god, after all, saved her parents. she takes offense to people believing that she must believe in a deity, especially because much of their rationale hinges on the fact that she is african. as a result, she tends not to talk about her atheism or belief in chance.
________________________________________________________
personal history
mother:
anka jagoda, deceased
father:
nkunda magombo, deceased
siblings:
none
pets:
none
history:
god has no face. summer died in uganda, and god had no face, because god did not exist. after ripping a father from a child who would never know him, god, or whatever was left of him, decided to take the child’s mother, too. thus, within the first hour of her life, the baby was an orphan. it was luck alone that assured her grandmothers were both there to witness the birth of their first, last, and only grandchild, and luck alone that moved them to take the child into their care. the debate of what the child should be called (since neither parent had expressed wishes for one particular name over another before their passing) raged for an entire six hours, as loud peals of swahili and polish cursing could be heard from miles around. eventually she was given the name zytka, for the wild roses that grew in her mother’s garden in poland. her middle name, tusuubira, was not given for the girl, but rather for the grandmothers. we will have hope. we will have hope, even though god has no face.
zytka grew up knowing the story of her birth, and the meaning of her name. she was happy nonetheless, happy that people cared for her and loved her. she grew up in the same house her father did, and caught snatches of him that danced around the place like rays of sunlight. she knew that his name, like hers, had a meaning: i love those who hate me. so even though the children at her school laughed at her for her fair skin and the polish she spoke like prayers, she loved them, because it was what her father would have wanted. she learned of magic in the backyard, away from prying eyes that would call her by what she really was: witch. both her grandmothers claimed the title with pride when they were alone, but denied it vehemently when asked. zytka took her cues from her grandmothers, and also denied being anything more than a regular person.
this illusion was shattered when she was visited in the middle of the night, and invited to come learn how to practice magic, instead of just theorize about it, at uagadou. she was given instructions on how and where to acquire a wand, though when she got to school, zytka found that for her, like many other students, it was easier just to use her hands. she used her time at school to grow in magic, sure, but zytka was always glad to return home to the familiarity of her grandmothers’ house and wide open spaces. there was only one time when zytka was not glad to return home. it was in the middle of her fifth year of school, and she was called there for her grandmother’s funeral. she missed the cooing polish and the warm hugs and the soft pieces of her mother that her grandmother whispered late into the night. zytka did not like the funeral, especially when she saw her other grandmother’s face, and realized that another one may soon be coming.
it was three years before the storm broke, and for the first time since she was born, zytka knew that god had no face. she was alone in the world, and the house where she grew up no longer felt like home. uganda was stifling without anyone to protect her from the heat and the sun. eighteen years she had lived in the country, but it was time to leave. emigrating to britain seemed the only choice; her grandmothers spoke often of the wizarding community tucked into london, lurking just beneath the surface. she got a british work visa and said goodbye to her homeland, because summer was dying and god had no face. once she arrived, zytka realized that the experience was going to be much harder than she anticipated. for one thing, she barely spoke english; her knowledge extended to pleasantries and tourist-type questions. she was lost.
as she limped through learning english, zytka could feel herself becoming more and more isolated. there was little she could do until she learned the language, so she put her mind on overdrive; by the time she was nineteen, zytka was proficient in three languages. finding a job was much easier than she expected. apparently, the wizards in britain were more than impressed with her ability to perform magic with little more than a sweep of her hand. she became a street performer for a time, and made a decent living off of it, but soon found that she yearned for stability. when word came that hogwarts was looking for a new ancient runes professor, zytka applied. ancient runes had been the focus of her last year at school, and the fact that the school was looking for a more diverse faculty didn’t harm her case at all. she gained her british citizenship with her position at hogwarts, and knew that she was there to stay.
she spent ten years at the school, living in a happy haze of teaching and connecting with students, and other faculty members. she answered questions about uganda with verve: zytka never quite forgot the way her home country made her feel. she could also not forget, though, that god had no face, and so it took great courage to return. during the summer, when hogwarts was not in session, she found herself flying to uganda, to the place she was born. the house was still in decent condition, and she repaired it without thought. she visited the graveyard, and laid roses on her parents’ and grandmothers’ graves. it was not the homecoming that she had expected, nor the one she had dreamed of, but it was the closure that she needed. she returned to britain with the sun still flaming on her cheeks and the knowledge that uganda, however far away, would always be her home.
knowing there was a safe place to run away to both hurt zytka and helped her immensely when things started to go awry in her new home. the minister died, and she wondered if going to uganda again would keep her safe, but eventually decided to stay for fear of losing her job, or (worse) having to hide her magic. when another minister died, she was forced to give the thought more consideration, but once again reached the same conclusion. the straw that broke her back, so to speak, was the muggleborn being found dead on her way to school.
god had no face.
it was school. it was supposed to be a safe place. it was supposed to be a place where young witches and wizards could learn to control their powers, to keep others safe. the girl who died could have been an auror when she grew up. she could have been somebody's mother. she was somebody's daughter already, and that hurt zytka. more than that, it made her angry in a way that she didn't know was possible. she wasn't much good at fighting, but she was good at loving, and that had to be good enough. she vowed that her room, always, would be a safe place. she would let children hold on to the idea of a god, even if he had no face, because that was what being a teacher was. it was protecting the ones you taught. it was watching them grow. it was showing them that the world was good, if you squinted hard enough. sometimes, it just took a lot of energy to squint.
________________________________________________________
alias
name:
puck
age:
seventeen
time zone:
est
reference:
topsites
other characters:
royal shacklebolt, jamie greyback, lysander scamander, hephaestus corfield, xanthippe meagle
