Jinx Sinclair
Jinx' super awesome lapel pin
Basic Information
- Appearance
"I say let me never be complete, I say may I never be content"
Jinx stands about 6'2 and weighs a lean 170 pounds. Due to his lack of disciplined exercise his physique has suffered. He still remains lean with moderate muscle definition. But those that have known him over the years would have noticed the gradual loss of mass.
His hair is jet black and runs down to his shoulders. His face is usually cleanly shaven.
Should Jinx' black leather gloves not be on his hands, intricately designed bone rings adorn each of his fingers. The rings range in color from bright white to a dark brownish red.
On his ring finger on the right hand is a subdued platinum ring which would have the unmistakable shape of a skull with a missing jaw.
Jinx' clothes are always neatly laundered and pressed. His house robes are immaculate and very well maintained. - Observed Oddities
"You have to realize that someday you will die. Until you know that, you are useless."
Jinx usually carries a wide assortment of potions in small vials and bottles on his person.
It is known that Jinx is a craftsman and has been seen by numerous people carving wood, bone, and other materials.
Jinx is known to be in his seventh year at Hogwarts.
Jinx is known to be the the Slytherin Male Prefect - Theme Song
"This is your life, and it is ending one minute at a time."
Tool - Lateralus (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDlC7oG_2W4)
10 Years - Wasteland (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ciuca4d2Ttg)
The Memoirs of Jinx Sinclair
I write his as my body withers and my soul readies to escape my body. A few weeks prior my wife had passed and I feel as if my time is soon to come. It comes as no surprise that when two souls are entangled that when one moves somewhere else, it tugs on the other until it leaves as well. May my story and words be passed on for generations as a story of motivation, enlightenment, and family heritage.
I had lived in the one of the party capitals of the United States. Key West, Florida was one place where people could be their true selves. I clearly remember looking out of my window from our green stilted foundation house onto Duvall Street. From my window, I watched vacationers and locals unite in a drunken stupor to dance the day and night away.
While I loved the city life that Key West offered, I also reveled in the life of the Native Americans that lived just outside of Miami. I clearly remember my father taking me to alligator wrestling on the Indian reservations. He always bought me some sort of memento when we were there. It was always something that was hand crafted and beautiful. My absolute favorite items were the alligator bone carvings. It was those carvings that started my hobbyist nature.
With a book, knife, and block of wood I learned how to carve a hunk of wood into a beautiful work of art. In Key West it wasn’t hard to come across bones. The old pirate outpost had hidden skeletons of cattle, dogs, and humans. On gloomy days I would head to the pirate outpost and take a piece of bone and attempt to carve it into a piece of jewelry or a knife similar to the kind that the Indians of the Seminole tribe used.
Besides school and hobbies I had several other things which I did regularly. I sincerely enjoyed the beach. I enjoyed sitting on the white sand and allowing the clean Caribbean water wash against my legs. I enjoyed drinking lemonade and watching the people as they walked by on the street. But most of all I enjoyed working in my parent’s store.
During the day my parents ran a quaint store along Duvall which catered to older tourists. Throughout the day old obnoxious overweight women from the north would stop in and compliment my parents about their consumables. However, at night is when they really worked.
I vividly remember the first night I stumbled into their work in the occult. It was about three in the morning and I heard some rummaging downstairs. As a child my first thought was, “Santa Clause!” I ran downstairs clad in my Super Man pajamas to discover my parents brewing some sort of liquid over a cauldron. I stared in awe at the doorway as I saw my father pick up a small vial and pour a glowing green liquid into the vial.
To the seven year old mind, I could only imagine what it was. At first I thought it was a new flavor of soda. I stumbled over to the small box that was already prepackaged, wiping my eyes with the blue sleeve of my pajamas. As I reached in to grab that vial, my mother caught me, slapping my hand. I forget what she said to me, but it was a stern warning.
My father smirked and came towards me, picking me up under my arms and bringing me back to bed. I was set in my bed and had the covers brought up past my shoulder. I was promised we’d talk about it more in the morning. I fell asleep with little worry.
I awoke to the smell of crisping bacon, fresh coffee, and cooked eggs. My stomach rumbled as I pulled down my blankets, exited my bed, and then walked down stairs. I remember everything about this morning. The cauldron was replaced by a skillet. The boxes and vials replaced with a glass of orange juice and a plate. My mother grabbed the skillet and walked it over to the plate, dumping the bacon and eggs onto the plate. I sat down at the table. I yawned loudly as I looked to my plate and took my fork into my hand.
Before I could even eat, my father entered the kitchen. My mother set the skillet into sink and they began to talk. This is when I learned of my true ancestry. I had learned that my family had been trained in the use magic and it’s arts for generations. It was for that reason they rationalized moving to England, something I wouldn’t understand until I turned 10.
England was boring and mundane. The grey skies and near constant rain was a dark contrast to my bright and cheerful Key West home. My life consisted of school, sleep, TV, and the occasional video game. Sure, I had friends and as much of a social life that a ten year old could have. But I was still miserable.
My life changed the morning I woke up with my father sitting next to me on the bed. He placed his hand on my shoulder and I slowly awoke from my slumber. My mother was standing at the door. My father laid my train ticket and admissions papers next to me on my bed and explained the adventure I was about to take. This adventure would change my life permanently.
………
I had a pink suitcase. It was all that my mother had at the time. She still mentally lived in Key West and had only bright color things. That’s when I heard the laughter. I turned scowling towards a girl sitting on the bench as she stared at me. I dropped my giant pink suitcase to the ground and walked towards her.
In retrospect, I don’t know why I did. It was almost like I was called to her. It was like something or someone told me to walk to her. I usually would not pay attention to such a person prior. I enjoyed living in my own little world. Somehow I knew that my own little world was shattered and it was time to live outside of it.
I sat next to her and huffily demanded an explanation why she was laughing at me. Of course, it was mom’s big pink suitcase. She smiled towards me and counted out six sticks of gum, picked them up again and counted them out again. After her third count she looked at me with a broad smile.
(To be continued)