Amita Amirmoez, updated: 23 june 2017
sorted: 23 june 2017
sorted: 23 june 2017
Name: Amita Amirmoez
Bloodline: “None of your business.” (muggleborn)
- Amita stands at 5’6”. Her facial features bear subtle similarity to her brother Samson, most notably the narrow bridge of her nose and her bold eyebrows. She’s slender, and not particularly curvaceous. She dresses on the modest side, a fond callback to the more devout days of her youth, but she prefers not to wear head coverings. She quite likes heavy shoes, as she likes making her presence known with sound that cannot be ignored, but can also frequently be seen in athletic wear.
- Amita is not what we would call a nice girl.
It would be apt to assume that she has daddy issues of some kind, as she’s not particularly fond of men, whether those are peers her age, or or authority figures, like professors. Really, she has authority issues in general; she can follow the rules, but she definitely doesn't like to be told no. Amita believes that she can do anything that she puts her mind to, and she's damn well going to put her mind to it. If she wants something, whether it's material or an academic accomplishment, then she's going to chase it with every inch of energy she has.
She's fairly certain that she'll end up doing something with potions eventually. She likes how methodical it is, and how much patience it takes. She's not a very patient person, of course, as she wants to get things done as proficiently as possible, and most of the people around her simply aren't moving at the pace that she needs them too. Amita is a shark. If she stops moving, she's certain that she's going to drown, so she's always making the effort to move toward her goals.
She's always been incredibly athletic. At first, she wanted to be a gymnast, and then she fell headfirst into parkour, and invested her time and energy there. While still only a teenager, she's quickly becoming an experienced traceuse. Her kong vault gainers are a thing of true beauty that took as much practice as making her potent bruise balm, which an equal number of failures and righteous fury pushing her to improve. She's a little bit of an adrenaline junkie for sure, and when she has the opportunity to, Amita will climb things she's not supposed to, dive from cliffs, and leap from building to building. It's not even about chasing the rush. It's about getting better, being stronger, and pushing past her previously discovered limits.
After all, what are limits if you aren't breaking them?
Amita is brusque and doesn't mince words. If she doesn't like you, she'll let you know. She might crush your ego and maybe make you cry, but frankly, if you can't put up with her telling you about your personal failings, or improve when she points them out, she doesn't really want you around. She doesn't tolerate weakness, mostly because she's only ever been crushed when she's allowed herself to be weak and has since decided that this will not do.
She has her moments of softness, but this is only around her siblings and her mother. While she feels the woman has her failings, Amita recognizes that she's a strong woman, stronger than most. She might not have had the strength to take on her husband's children and treat them as her own the way that her mother did, and that's something that she very much admires and sings Aaliyah's praises for. She's incredibly protective of her siblings, Jon and Samson specifically. She remains angry about her father's infidelity, lies, and hypocrisy, the latter something that she's picked up as a defense mechanism. However, she doesn't hold any of this against her brothers. She loves them dearly, and has gone so far as to threaten violence -and follow through in the harshest ways- whenever someone speaks ill of her brothers. Her sister is much softer than any of them, and hasn't been as hurt by their father's hatred, so Ami endeavors to protect her from the harshness of the world as much as she can. Her family is the one thing that causes her to jump quickly to venomous behavior, so tread lightly, or find yourself bitten. She's not afraid to bloody the waters a bit.
- As far as Aaliyah knew, her husband was the perfect man. Their wedding was as magical as she possibly could’ve hoped it to be. Hajaar Amirmoez was a devout man with an amazing job, and she knew that her life with him would be happy.
What she didn’t know was that he already had a son and another on the way by the time she became pregnant with their first child. She hoped quietly for a girl, but her husband was quite vocal in his desire for a son. Still blinded to the truth, Aaliyah was patient and quiet, often attending her appointments alone due to her husband being away on business. She gave birth to twins on December 1st, and was endlessly pleased to discover that both she and her husband had got their wishes.
Amita Nadiyya, their daughter, was born first, their son Zia following not thirteen minutes later.
Her husband’s joy seemed almost tense, something that the woman didn’t quite understand. For the next two years, Hajaar would go away on frequent business trips, until the twins were about three, their younger sister a newborn. She didn’t ever question it, a decision that would haunt her for the rest of her life.
Amita and Zia were happy babies, well-behaved and quiet. Strange things happened around Amita that resulted in her being prayed over numerous times, but nothing too serious. At least… not until Hajaar was witness to them.
He spurned her for the strange things that happened, starting when she was five. He would shake her at times, demanding that she would stop, but the distress only worsened the incidents, causing lights to burst over their heads and sparks to spew from the electrical sockets.
All her life, she wanted nothing more than to please her father, but it was never going to be good enough for him. She was a witch, and he hated her for it. Eventually, when Zia began to show signs of magic as well, he began to get their father’s anger. He was never as outright as Amita, a much calmer presence, where one of his sister’s tantrums sent glasses flying across the room and exploding in people’s hands.
It only worsened for Amita as Zahra grew older. Their father tried to craft a divide between the siblings, making the youngest Amirmoez promise that she wouldn’t be magical and buying her a large, ornate dollhouse. When Zahra’s first signs of magic showed, he took the gift into the yard and burned it in front of her. It was the last time he threatened any of them to their faces, Amita glaring and fuming in silence until the fire became a pillar, nearly burning him horribly for the way he had just broken her little sister’s heart.
Their letters came shortly after, accompanied by a professor. Amita would remember the woman well, dressed strangely, with a curtain of frizzy red hair that was fascinating. She hardly had to explain who she was, how she had found them, or why she was there. Hajaar stormed from the room, but Aaliyah listened, pleading with the woman. Whatever it took, if they could learn to control their gifts and be as great as she knew them to be, she would let them go to this strange school. The professor assured her that they would be among others like them, with gifts like theirs, and that she didn’t have to worry about them at all.
What Amita didn’t expect was that going to Hogwarts would turn her world around in more ways than simply introducing her to magic. Her brother was much more sociable than she was, bounding off to make friends and secure enemies in his first few minutes, but she sat in the dining car, by herself… until a boy, speaking Arabic with a decidedly Irish lilt shared what remained of his maamoul. She had never seen another person who carried them when they traveled. Questions were asked, and answered, with answers that the girl wasn’t expecting in a million years.
Her father had two other sons, Samson and Jonathan. Two sons that he abandoned without looking back. Amita went into her sorting ceremony with righteous fury, one of the first to be called to the Hat. She had one hell of a letter to write home.
The Sorting Hat is placed on your head. What are you thinking at that moment?: Just quit the yammering and put me somewhere, I don’t have time to listen to you deconstruct my psyche.
Special Request @ Novice: Parselmouth.
trapped and I cannot fly, And you don't own me
first edit – wip
updated: 8 august 2017
general warning for adult language!
updated: 8 august 2017
general warning for adult language!
Full Name: Amita Nadiyya Amirmoez
Blood Status: Muggleborn, Undisclosed
Sex | Gender | Pronouns: designated female at birth | cisgender | she/her
Age | Birthday | Sign: 18 | 1 December | Sagittarius
- Amita is slender, taking after her mother. She stands at just under 5’6 and feels as though she’s finished growing. As she’s not as small as some of the other young women and enbies at Hogwarts, she’s pretty content with this. Though she has an hourglass frame, she’s not entirely too concerned with specific parts of or labels for her body until it comes to fitting into her clothing. In her mind, her body is a body. She works to take care of it and keep it healthy. People have bodies, and people just happen to find her particular flesh prison pleasing. Amita would be the first to tell you that she’s not here for the aesthetic pleasure of other people.
Her beauty routine is fairly simple. While she matured for the most part with little concern for appearances, as she began to settle into herself, she did adopt activities from other girls in her neighborhood. Her eyebrows are carefully sculpted and filled, just slightly, as she shares the same bold brow that her brother Samson inherited from their father. By virtue of the natural shape, there’s really not much work to put in. She’s not too big on makeup, typically only wearing tinted moisturizer on a day to day basis, as it evens out her skin tone a bit and keeps her from feeling like she’s got a quarry full of clay caked to her face. At most, she might wear a tinted lip balm if she’s feeling particularly cheeky that day, but typically, it’s just chapstick. She keeps her showers to every couple days, not wanting to dry out her skin and hair too much, but will do quick rinses after her workouts, as nobody likes to smell like sweat all the time.
While her beauty routine is simple, her fitness routine is not. She’s not as crazy as some of the Quidditch-trained kids running around Hogwarts, though she does show some talent as a potentially prodigious Seeker. Her diet is clean, and she eats something like seven times a day, her sleep schedule varies, but she’s always sure to get at least an hour and a half of hard workouts in. A traceuse, she’s gotta stay in peak physical condition if she wants to keep climbing and vaulting walls and obstacles with the precision she does. The Slytherin is deceptively toned, cut muscles hiding under the deceptive softness of all her curves until she moves a specific way and you realize just how hard her biceps really are. She’s careful to keep track of the activities she does, and is dedicated enough to her practices that she knows what does and doesn’t work for her in terms of keeping herself strong and building off of her already present foundations.
While she doesn’t really give a hippogriff’s hind end about how people see her body, she’s really particular about her clothes. Having been raised with modesty at the forefront of her mind and the rules that she was meant to be following, her wardrobe isn’t prudish, but certainly doesn’t expose more skin than necessary. By necessary, she means what she deems necessary. She’s not fond of wearing necklines that expose her cleavage, and she’s only recently started to wear shirts that expose her arms and bottoms that expose more of her legs. Aside from chic and modest, she doesn’t have much of a niche yet, and so she’s trying to settle into one that makes her feel most like herself. Part of this meant making the personal decision to take off her headscarves. Just as it was choice for her to don them so young, it was her choice to remove them, and it was a complex, many-headed beast of a decision.
Ultimately, her choice to cease wearing her hijabs and maintain modest dress came down to the fact that she had developed a sense of discomfort and dissociation when it came to her identity. She couldn’t connect with the young woman in the mirror, and she forgot her reason for wearing the scarves in the first place. It didn’t feel right, where it used to be the only thing that did feel right for her, a beacon when everything else was going terribly wrong. When she lost sight of that, she decided to stop wearing headscarves. It was a terribly drastic change that she still sometimes doubts, which has affected her other clothing choices and made her think quite carefully about what she wears. She would like to set herself apart while still finding a way to be comfortable and true to herself. Without the internal bullying to cover her hair, she hoped that she would reconnect with herself, her faith, and what that all means for her. Her collection of scarves has still found use, as she will occasionally wear one around her neck as a scarf, or around her shoulders as a shawl. The colors and patterns are varied, and she loves them all so much still, even though she isn’t wearing them the way she intended to upon purchasing them. Making conscious choices about her appearance has been a journey, one about learning to find and subsequently love herself again, and so her clothing choices are a little more personal than just ‘what do I feel like wearing today’.
- Outwardly, Amita is not a nice girl, not the kind of girl you’d approach on the street unless you were really ballsy, and most certainly not the kind of girl you would think about bringing home to your mother. The Slytherin is full of fire, the kind of heat that seems cold until suddenly, you are very much burning.
She’s a girl who wears her alpha bitch attitude like armor and a weapon, who responds to inquiries about why she is the way that she is with the simplest tilt of her head and a smile like a knife, words that are sharper. She can be outright cruel and uncaring to people vaguely on her radar, and knows that she’s definitely widely regarded as a bit of an asshole. In her own words, she’s just being blunt, but she doesn’t cover up her assholery with that excuse; if she’s going to act like this, then she’s going to own every second of it. She holds a lot of high standards for herself and the people that she’s forced to work with, and so part of what makes her seem like a jerk is that she’s not one to tolerate failure. Just the inkling of it leaves a bad taste in her mouth, and so she’s more likely to push people away than she is to let anyone close.
In fact, those standards are why Amita is prone to making more enemies than friends, and she kind of likes it that way. She tends to prefer her own company unless she’s with the handful of people that she’s claimed as her own, and that handful is a very small number, a rank mostly made of young women. Delilah Subramani, Felicia Quigley, Daniela Romero, and Roxana Woodbane seem like an interesting, if mismatched group to surround yourself with, but each of them has something that makes the older Amirmoez twin remember her worth in times of need, and that’s what matters.
She’s especially found kindred spirits in Roxana and Felicia, both firstborn daughters who know what it’s like to feel you’ve got the weight of the world in everyone’s expectations either on your shoulders or hanging over you like a guillotine. It’s for this reason that despite Felicia’s penchant for what the Pakistani girl would refer to as “idiocy” and her varying failures that she’s still very fond of the lioness. The serpent insists that her friend’s antics serve a purpose, and they do, and more than anyone else, she understands what it is like to be the unwanted firstborn daughter, the disappointment followed by the desired son, and to be mistreated for the circumstances of your birth. It’s tough as a muggleborn, though she prefers not to disclose her blood status, so she can only imagine how hard it must be for a pureblood. Suffice it to say, Amita’s homelife back in Southall definitely colored her interpersonal relationships and lack thereof.
It isn’t all bad. Her mother does try to temper things, keeping everyone in a healthy state of mind, body, and spirit. Amita loves Aaliyah more than anything in this life, and it’s largely to do with the strength that she showed in the face of her husband’s infidelity. Instead of immediately demanding a divorce like many women might have, she took it all in stride. The Slytherin girl cannot say that she would have that same strength, and so she very much admires her mother’s efforts. She’s a very freeing kind of parent, bending the expectations that she has to her children’s needs, Samson included. She’s very much the authoritative parent, with less rules enforced more consistently.
In terms of her siblings, she’s much closer to Zia, Zahra, and Samson than she is to Jonathan. Her twin, Zia is her other half, that strange kind of magic where they don’t need words to communicate with each other but also invented their own language to communicate when they were children. As teens, their relationship is a lot more strained; simply put, he was the son her father wanted, and though magical, he’s still more valuable than his sister, so their father likes to pit them against each other. They’ve discussed it and mutually wish that they weren’t so distant. Samson is different. Having only known her older brother for the last six years, she’s still crafting her relationship with him. What she does know is that she loves him very deeply, and that not actually being the oldest is particularly unsettling. Sam holds a very deeply rooted place in her life; she missed so many years with him because of their father’s nonsense that she doesn’t want to miss another day. Samson feels very similarly, and so his advice factors into a lot of her decisions.
trapped and I cannot fly, And you don't own me
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