DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Here
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Perfectionist
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Perfectionist
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Reducio
Good grades. Good grades. It was something always floating through her head, like an insidious whisper and pressing weight that she should do well. Maybe because Beatrice had always had a curiosity for learning new things, r that she was just naturally gifted at learning texts. Perhaps it had something to do with her excellent memory skills. Either way, her enthusiasm and penchant for learning had always been encouraged by her family, especially her mother. She had always told Bea that something wasn’t worth doing, if not done well.
That was why, when come to Hogwarts, Beatrice had determined she would do well in school. Her sister was sporty and outgoing. Beatrice…not so much. She knew her strengths were academic and more introspective. It was one of the reasons Bea had practiced and practiced every night to get her spells just right, and to make sure her potions succeeded. They didn’t always on the first try, but Bea made sure they did on the second. The crushing disappointment and whispers that her mother would disapprove and that she wasn’t good enough always floated in her head when she didn’t succeed or pass her work.
Her entire first year basically, save for meeting up with the few friends she had met on the train to Hogwarts, Beatrice had holed herself up in the Ravenclaw Tower. She created lists and schedules, dividing her time between schoolwork, classes and socialising, but always mindful of making sure that her spells and her schoolwork were done perfectly, and if not perfectly, that she was one of the top performers. It wouldn’t do well to owl her Ma home every week saying Bea had received a P, or heaven forbid a T, on her schoolwork.
Maybe it was the thrill every time a Professor congratulated her, or the sense of accomplishment a spell went right, but deep down Beatrice knew it was because she craved her mothers smile and proud remark, “Well done! You’re doing me so proud.” Okay, so the last sentence wouldn’t really be uttered, but the first one…Was written every time Bea sent a letter home. And again, that thrill of accomplishment would run through her.
Perhaps it was a slightly bad thing that she tied all her self-worth to being perfect at her schoolwork, but really if that was how she was going to earn her mother and family’s admiration really just her mothers, then all the studying and effort would be worth it.
That was why, when come to Hogwarts, Beatrice had determined she would do well in school. Her sister was sporty and outgoing. Beatrice…not so much. She knew her strengths were academic and more introspective. It was one of the reasons Bea had practiced and practiced every night to get her spells just right, and to make sure her potions succeeded. They didn’t always on the first try, but Bea made sure they did on the second. The crushing disappointment and whispers that her mother would disapprove and that she wasn’t good enough always floated in her head when she didn’t succeed or pass her work.
Her entire first year basically, save for meeting up with the few friends she had met on the train to Hogwarts, Beatrice had holed herself up in the Ravenclaw Tower. She created lists and schedules, dividing her time between schoolwork, classes and socialising, but always mindful of making sure that her spells and her schoolwork were done perfectly, and if not perfectly, that she was one of the top performers. It wouldn’t do well to owl her Ma home every week saying Bea had received a P, or heaven forbid a T, on her schoolwork.
Maybe it was the thrill every time a Professor congratulated her, or the sense of accomplishment a spell went right, but deep down Beatrice knew it was because she craved her mothers smile and proud remark, “Well done! You’re doing me so proud.” Okay, so the last sentence wouldn’t really be uttered, but the first one…Was written every time Bea sent a letter home. And again, that thrill of accomplishment would run through her.
Perhaps it was a slightly bad thing that she tied all her self-worth to being perfect at her schoolwork, but really if that was how she was going to earn her mother and family’s admiration really just her mothers, then all the studying and effort would be worth it.
STATUS: ApprovedWord count: 412
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Here
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Prodigal Defense Agains the Dark Arts Learner
Describe why this fits your character:
STATUS: Approved
"He's a dweeby chocolate bar lip smacking nerd" - Evelynn Decipio
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Prodigal Defense Agains the Dark Arts Learner
Describe why this fits your character:
Reducio
Finnegan had never liked school very much. Nothing ever seemed to stick in his brain. Not maths, not history or English, not even the silly little songs they practiced for music. It seemed he was cursed to only ever be asked a question by his teachers when he'd drifted off on some daydream and found himself unable to answer, always at the tip of his tongue, yet always slipping away. Like sand running through his fingers the right answer always seemed to elude him.
Every schoolday was like every other: hours spent in dusty classrooms, trying to stay awake while his teachers droned on and on about dry, boring subjects that he did not care about. And then yet more hours spent trying to remember the one and only right answer for every question. He tried. Not just for himself, but to make his parents proud, and to not feel like such a failure. Yet no matter how hard he tried, when push came to shove his throat inevitably turned dry, even when he had the right answer in mind.
His teachers thought him lazy and absent-minded, and eventually his parents thought so too. If they'd had the money for it they would've surely send him elsewhere and made him spent more hours pouring over texts and pictures that gave him headaches.
But when the official from Hogwarts came, everything changed. Finnegan did not believe it at first, how could he? It seemed like another one of his dreams, one he desperately didn't want to wake from.
From the moment he got his wand and books, he knew he'd been given a new opportunity. A chance to start afresh, a chance to do well and leave the headaches of History, English and Arithmetic behind. From here on out, he vowed he would no longer be ashamed to come home with another abysmal report card.
At home he combed through all his new books with unprecedented vigor, and it was The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection that he clung to, not because of its gripping writing, but because he'd finally found something he cared to learn. He wanted to learn it, needed to learn it, he needed to be good at something, to have a purpose, to have something to be proud of.
It didn't matter to him that his little sister laughed at him for practicing the motions with a twig at home, or that he spend countless days trying to make himself remember all the exact incantations. The only thing that mattered was the relief he'd felt from the moment he'd first gotten his wand. It was a feeling of belonging, a feeling as though he had regained a part of himself that had always been missing, a feeling as though a fog that had hung over his mind had been lifted.
Come rain or storm, he read and read until he could recite entire passages and spell every curse, charm and jinx contained within the vale pages backwards. He'd never been big or strong, he'd never known what it was like to feel powerful. The only strength he had ever possessed had been a strength of heart, but the will and courage to protect was not the same as the power to defend.
Within the pages, read by flash- or sunlight, he read about methods of stunning and disarmament, curses and counter-curses, ways for a scrawny little boy to have power and control. Ways to escape the shadow cast on him by bigger or smarter children.
For once he was certain that by the time he'd come back home next year, he'd be able to make his parents proud.
WC: 612
Finnegan had never liked school very much. Nothing ever seemed to stick in his brain. Not maths, not history or English, not even the silly little songs they practiced for music. It seemed he was cursed to only ever be asked a question by his teachers when he'd drifted off on some daydream and found himself unable to answer, always at the tip of his tongue, yet always slipping away. Like sand running through his fingers the right answer always seemed to elude him.
Every schoolday was like every other: hours spent in dusty classrooms, trying to stay awake while his teachers droned on and on about dry, boring subjects that he did not care about. And then yet more hours spent trying to remember the one and only right answer for every question. He tried. Not just for himself, but to make his parents proud, and to not feel like such a failure. Yet no matter how hard he tried, when push came to shove his throat inevitably turned dry, even when he had the right answer in mind.
His teachers thought him lazy and absent-minded, and eventually his parents thought so too. If they'd had the money for it they would've surely send him elsewhere and made him spent more hours pouring over texts and pictures that gave him headaches.
But when the official from Hogwarts came, everything changed. Finnegan did not believe it at first, how could he? It seemed like another one of his dreams, one he desperately didn't want to wake from.
From the moment he got his wand and books, he knew he'd been given a new opportunity. A chance to start afresh, a chance to do well and leave the headaches of History, English and Arithmetic behind. From here on out, he vowed he would no longer be ashamed to come home with another abysmal report card.
At home he combed through all his new books with unprecedented vigor, and it was The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection that he clung to, not because of its gripping writing, but because he'd finally found something he cared to learn. He wanted to learn it, needed to learn it, he needed to be good at something, to have a purpose, to have something to be proud of.
It didn't matter to him that his little sister laughed at him for practicing the motions with a twig at home, or that he spend countless days trying to make himself remember all the exact incantations. The only thing that mattered was the relief he'd felt from the moment he'd first gotten his wand. It was a feeling of belonging, a feeling as though he had regained a part of himself that had always been missing, a feeling as though a fog that had hung over his mind had been lifted.
Come rain or storm, he read and read until he could recite entire passages and spell every curse, charm and jinx contained within the vale pages backwards. He'd never been big or strong, he'd never known what it was like to feel powerful. The only strength he had ever possessed had been a strength of heart, but the will and courage to protect was not the same as the power to defend.
Within the pages, read by flash- or sunlight, he read about methods of stunning and disarmament, curses and counter-curses, ways for a scrawny little boy to have power and control. Ways to escape the shadow cast on him by bigger or smarter children.
For once he was certain that by the time he'd come back home next year, he'd be able to make his parents proud.
WC: 612
STATUS: Approved
Last edited by Finnegan Connor on 18 Jul 2022, 08:31, edited 4 times in total.
"He's a dweeby chocolate bar lip smacking nerd" - Evelynn Decipio
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: ❀
Name of the Ability or Race/Talent that you are applying for: Parselmouth
Describe why this fits your character:
Stats (30):
STATUS: Approved
Name of the Ability or Race/Talent that you are applying for: Parselmouth
Describe why this fits your character:
Reducio
Glenys didn't have many memories with her mother. After all, they'd only met a handful of times. On one of those occasions, her mother had, well, pretty much babysat her for her dads. (After all, babysitting a child was far removed from raising one. While her mother hadn't felt ready to raise one, even teenagers could babysit one for an afternoon or evening.)
Anyway, that day after they had played some game that Glenys couldn't even remember now, her mother had told her stories – not bedtime stories though, it hadn't been that late yet. And one of those stories was supposedly about her great-great-great-grandfather or something. A family legend basically.
The story had been about how they had been going through lean times, and said person [let's call him Chōji] had left the family home to go forage and hunt for some food. He had been supposedly been not gone for three days and three nights as he had announced he would but instead for three weeks and the family had though him lost already.
But he had returned and victorious and with a wild tale of how he had been granted help from the strangest place: a 蛇の紙 [hebi no kami; a snake deity] had taken pity on him and after testing him and deeming him worthy, led Chōji to a place of abundance – a tree trunk overgrown by shiitake mushrooms; letting him return home with ample loot in the form of said shiitake mushrooms and even a snared hare. The family kept telling the story as a reminder that there's hope and help may come from the most unexpected places. And besides, if someone in the family had been blessed in such a way by a kami they would honour said kami by keeping it's memory alive.
Glenys hadn't really thought it to be more than any other story. After all, she hadn't grown up with the same cultural knowledge her mother had, given that she wasn't living with her. She might've known magic was real (obviously), but she had no idea what a „kami“ was supposed to be and deities... that was just how non-magical people explained magic right? All she had gotten from that story was that maybe some ancestor of her mother's mother had been a wizard, too. Besides, the other stories told that day were far more interesting, talking about dragons and heroes and such. A dragon was far more impressive than a mere snake, after all. Kami or no.
That story, is of course just a story. But where there's smoke there is fire. There had been no kami, snake or otherwise, that had spoken to an ancestor of hers, let alone one that had tested them and deliberately led them to find food. No. There had been, however, before the family had ended in a line of squibs until the re-emergence of magic in Glenys maternal grandmother, a latent ability to speak parseltongue. And 'Chōji' had found a source of food in lean times, but only because he overheard a snake complaining about strangely smelling dead trees.
It never occurred to Glenys that an actual snake had been involved or that someone in her family had been able to speak to it. If her mother or grandmother had possessed the ability, it had never come up the few times they'd met. And Glenys herself, for all that she might have has inherited the ability, had never had occasion to actually speak to a snake before, and was therefore so far completely unaware of it.
Anyway, that day after they had played some game that Glenys couldn't even remember now, her mother had told her stories – not bedtime stories though, it hadn't been that late yet. And one of those stories was supposedly about her great-great-great-grandfather or something. A family legend basically.
The story had been about how they had been going through lean times, and said person [let's call him Chōji] had left the family home to go forage and hunt for some food. He had been supposedly been not gone for three days and three nights as he had announced he would but instead for three weeks and the family had though him lost already.
But he had returned and victorious and with a wild tale of how he had been granted help from the strangest place: a 蛇の紙 [hebi no kami; a snake deity] had taken pity on him and after testing him and deeming him worthy, led Chōji to a place of abundance – a tree trunk overgrown by shiitake mushrooms; letting him return home with ample loot in the form of said shiitake mushrooms and even a snared hare. The family kept telling the story as a reminder that there's hope and help may come from the most unexpected places. And besides, if someone in the family had been blessed in such a way by a kami they would honour said kami by keeping it's memory alive.
Glenys hadn't really thought it to be more than any other story. After all, she hadn't grown up with the same cultural knowledge her mother had, given that she wasn't living with her. She might've known magic was real (obviously), but she had no idea what a „kami“ was supposed to be and deities... that was just how non-magical people explained magic right? All she had gotten from that story was that maybe some ancestor of her mother's mother had been a wizard, too. Besides, the other stories told that day were far more interesting, talking about dragons and heroes and such. A dragon was far more impressive than a mere snake, after all. Kami or no.
That story, is of course just a story. But where there's smoke there is fire. There had been no kami, snake or otherwise, that had spoken to an ancestor of hers, let alone one that had tested them and deliberately led them to find food. No. There had been, however, before the family had ended in a line of squibs until the re-emergence of magic in Glenys maternal grandmother, a latent ability to speak parseltongue. And 'Chōji' had found a source of food in lean times, but only because he overheard a snake complaining about strangely smelling dead trees.
It never occurred to Glenys that an actual snake had been involved or that someone in her family had been able to speak to it. If her mother or grandmother had possessed the ability, it had never come up the few times they'd met. And Glenys herself, for all that she might have has inherited the ability, had never had occasion to actually speak to a snake before, and was therefore so far completely unaware of it.
WC: 596
Stats (30):
Reducio
❀ S t a t s ❀
Reducio
❀ STAmina ❀
Five (5)
Five (5)
❀ EVAsion ❀
Four (4)
Four (4)
❀ STRength ❀
Four (4)
Four (4)
❀ WISdom ❀
Six (6)
Six (6)
❀ ARCane Power ❀
Six (6)
Six (6)
❀ ACCuracy ❀
Five (5)
Five (5)
STATUS: Approved
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Made the modifications in a new post.
Last edited by Anastasia Blackwood-Varney on 10 Aug 2022, 10:30, edited 1 time in total.
| Anastasia Blackwood-Varney Mors irrumat omnia |
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: viewtopic.php?f=169&t=22046
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Prodigal Charms Learner
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Cece has been in love with charms ever since she first opened the Book of Spells by Miranda Goshawk. That book had opened her eyes to the amazing of the wizarding world. It seemed like there was a charm for everything! Any problem that existed, there was a way to solve it. And there were so many charms, there was so much to learn. Cece spent her summer reading the Book of Spells, and with every new spell she learned, she fell in love with magic and charms a little bit more. She went and found a second hand bookshop in Diagon Alley, where she purchased more books, most of them about charms, and read those too. She spent her free time in her bedroom, engrossed in a book, absolutely amazed by the sheer amount of charms that existed. She learned more and more and spent her entire allowance on books and begged her parents to take her to Diagon Alley so that she could get more books on charms. She loved to read about the history of charms, and how the creators of famous charms had come up with the idea to make them. She loved the ingeniousness of these people, who had solved a problem by bringing something into existence that no one had even thought of before. She loved to learn about every charm, no matter whether she thought that it was something that she would use, because every charm she learned about, someone had found it useful, and she was amazed. Although she wasn’t able to practice actually casting spells, she memorized the wand movements and incantations for them. She had memorized her entire first year curriculum and half of the second year curriculum as well. She fell in love with charms even more, when she finally got to Hogwarts and was able to see magic in action. And when she got to see the Hogwarts library, and read more and more books on charms and was able to actually practice the things she learned, she excelled. She learned more and more and memorized more charms and she was amazed that there was still more. More charms to learn about, even though she must have read at least twenty different books on charms already. She loved it, how much there was already and how much more there would be in the future. So she read and learned and practiced and was absolutely enthralled with charms.
WC: 409
STATUS: Approved
“Your voice is your identity. If you don’t use it, you’re halfway to Asphodel already.” - Nico di Angelo, The Blood of Olympus
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Prodigal Charms Learner
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Cece has been in love with charms ever since she first opened the Book of Spells by Miranda Goshawk. That book had opened her eyes to the amazing of the wizarding world. It seemed like there was a charm for everything! Any problem that existed, there was a way to solve it. And there were so many charms, there was so much to learn. Cece spent her summer reading the Book of Spells, and with every new spell she learned, she fell in love with magic and charms a little bit more. She went and found a second hand bookshop in Diagon Alley, where she purchased more books, most of them about charms, and read those too. She spent her free time in her bedroom, engrossed in a book, absolutely amazed by the sheer amount of charms that existed. She learned more and more and spent her entire allowance on books and begged her parents to take her to Diagon Alley so that she could get more books on charms. She loved to read about the history of charms, and how the creators of famous charms had come up with the idea to make them. She loved the ingeniousness of these people, who had solved a problem by bringing something into existence that no one had even thought of before. She loved to learn about every charm, no matter whether she thought that it was something that she would use, because every charm she learned about, someone had found it useful, and she was amazed. Although she wasn’t able to practice actually casting spells, she memorized the wand movements and incantations for them. She had memorized her entire first year curriculum and half of the second year curriculum as well. She fell in love with charms even more, when she finally got to Hogwarts and was able to see magic in action. And when she got to see the Hogwarts library, and read more and more books on charms and was able to actually practice the things she learned, she excelled. She learned more and more and memorized more charms and she was amazed that there was still more. More charms to learn about, even though she must have read at least twenty different books on charms already. She loved it, how much there was already and how much more there would be in the future. So she read and learned and practiced and was absolutely enthralled with charms.
WC: 409
STATUS: Approved
“Your voice is your identity. If you don’t use it, you’re halfway to Asphodel already.” - Nico di Angelo, The Blood of Olympus
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: viewtopic.php?f=169&t=7848
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for:
Y2 Ability - Perfectionist
Y3 Ability - Perfectionist II
Y4 Ability - Spell Spread
STATUS: Approved
"outlandishly gay for boys"
Stamina: 10 / Evasion: 12 / Strength: 3 / Wisdom: 13 / Arcane Power: 7 / Accuracy: 12 [color: #632d0b]
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for:
Y2 Ability - Perfectionist
Reducio
George hated following instructions. He hated being exact - he hated being subject to the strictest directions for his wand movement, his potion brewing, his incantation. However, more than any of these things, George hated making a mistake. His pride would not allow him to take the lazy path any longer when so much was on the line. The first time it happened to him was in defense against the dark arts. When trying to summon forth a shower of green sparks, his wand instead backfired, sending a firework of light back into his own nose. He could still remember being laughed at by a murder of snooty Ravenclaws who had seen.
His second year had been dedicated to mastering the worst parts of schooling. He gained a mastery of Latin pronunciation, and he waved his wand through the air with the graceful ease of an orchestra conductor. When he brewed potions, he did not deviate from the instructions, even when he believed the addition of new ingredients would lend a pleasant flavor or interesting effect to the final product. He began to use hourglasses rather than simply trying to estimate the time he had brewed. And in time, these things came more naturally to him. His grades improved, as did his ability, as he worked through the barriers between him and perfection.
While people who know George would likely not describe him as a perfectionist, but they certainly would not deny that he was studious. He ironed out the errors in his work after the fact, in the dark corners of the castle where he could not be caught making mistakes. He ate a few books to the face when he was practicing the summoning charm ahead of time, wanting to ensure he could perform it with perfect accuracy when it came time to demonstrate it in class.
What had happened to him with the sparks charm would not be happening to him again any time soon. As long as he maintained his concentration, and practiced, practiced, practiced between classes – he could be perfect. Well, as close to perfect as a boy could get in his second year at school. He had larger plans for the future – to challenge himself again when the casting of standard spells was no longer much of a challenge for him, there were still more difficulties to face in his future. Casting stronger spells, without saying the incantations aloud, and – he had heard of a rare ability that some wizards had – without a wand. But stuff like that would need to wait until a later year…
His second year had been dedicated to mastering the worst parts of schooling. He gained a mastery of Latin pronunciation, and he waved his wand through the air with the graceful ease of an orchestra conductor. When he brewed potions, he did not deviate from the instructions, even when he believed the addition of new ingredients would lend a pleasant flavor or interesting effect to the final product. He began to use hourglasses rather than simply trying to estimate the time he had brewed. And in time, these things came more naturally to him. His grades improved, as did his ability, as he worked through the barriers between him and perfection.
While people who know George would likely not describe him as a perfectionist, but they certainly would not deny that he was studious. He ironed out the errors in his work after the fact, in the dark corners of the castle where he could not be caught making mistakes. He ate a few books to the face when he was practicing the summoning charm ahead of time, wanting to ensure he could perform it with perfect accuracy when it came time to demonstrate it in class.
What had happened to him with the sparks charm would not be happening to him again any time soon. As long as he maintained his concentration, and practiced, practiced, practiced between classes – he could be perfect. Well, as close to perfect as a boy could get in his second year at school. He had larger plans for the future – to challenge himself again when the casting of standard spells was no longer much of a challenge for him, there were still more difficulties to face in his future. Casting stronger spells, without saying the incantations aloud, and – he had heard of a rare ability that some wizards had – without a wand. But stuff like that would need to wait until a later year…
Y3 Ability - Perfectionist II
Reducio
Of course, even being a perfectionist doesn’t make you perfect. Despite the fact that he could perfectly cast any spell taught in his year – and some taught above it, even – there were still some situations that called for a more perfect hand. When technique was demonstrated, George was not the student brought up in front of the class. He did not receive house points for his excellent incantation. His homework came with points off, even if he still received an Outstanding grade. The stress of sub-perfection boiled up inside of him like a pressure building in his head, ready to make him explode.
His insecurity about his blood status didn’t aid him at all. While the progressive teachers of Hogwarts often did not concern themselves with such things, it was impossible not to notice that the elite of the students was composed almost entirely of purebloods. The divide was mostly economic – pureblood families tended to have wealth going back generations – but George saw it as a divide based on ability. He thought he wasn’t as good as them. They thought he wasn’t as good as them. He intended to prove that he was just as good as any wizard, even ones who had generations of wizards standing behind them.
He threw himself into his studies. He spent long nights under the blankets with Jake’s night light, reviewing his textbooks, ensuring that no detail went unnoticed, no question was left unanswered. The boy even went so far as to consult his mom – a Muggle teacher – to learn how the professors thought. From purebloods to professors, the key was knowing your enemy. It turned out that his enemies most often wanted more thorough and detailed answers from George. His mother had given him this feedback on his muggle homework several times in the past, but he didn’t really care about it until it became relevant to his wizarding career, at which point he embraced it wholeheartedly.
He knew his spellcasting was beyond doubt, recognized by his professors as an exemplary wizard when it came to all the fundamentals of spellcasting. His pursuit of perfection had even begun to spread to other aspects of his life. Even Ivy, his piano teacher, could not find fault in his rendition of Fur Elise. He felt like a proper wizard. He had put in the effort where even some full-blooded wizards were complacent, and his superiority in academics boosted his self-esteem to the point of narcissism… even if the underlying insecurity had never been cured.
His insecurity about his blood status didn’t aid him at all. While the progressive teachers of Hogwarts often did not concern themselves with such things, it was impossible not to notice that the elite of the students was composed almost entirely of purebloods. The divide was mostly economic – pureblood families tended to have wealth going back generations – but George saw it as a divide based on ability. He thought he wasn’t as good as them. They thought he wasn’t as good as them. He intended to prove that he was just as good as any wizard, even ones who had generations of wizards standing behind them.
He threw himself into his studies. He spent long nights under the blankets with Jake’s night light, reviewing his textbooks, ensuring that no detail went unnoticed, no question was left unanswered. The boy even went so far as to consult his mom – a Muggle teacher – to learn how the professors thought. From purebloods to professors, the key was knowing your enemy. It turned out that his enemies most often wanted more thorough and detailed answers from George. His mother had given him this feedback on his muggle homework several times in the past, but he didn’t really care about it until it became relevant to his wizarding career, at which point he embraced it wholeheartedly.
He knew his spellcasting was beyond doubt, recognized by his professors as an exemplary wizard when it came to all the fundamentals of spellcasting. His pursuit of perfection had even begun to spread to other aspects of his life. Even Ivy, his piano teacher, could not find fault in his rendition of Fur Elise. He felt like a proper wizard. He had put in the effort where even some full-blooded wizards were complacent, and his superiority in academics boosted his self-esteem to the point of narcissism… even if the underlying insecurity had never been cured.
Y4 Ability - Spell Spread
Reducio
With technique perfected, the next step was power. There were many abilities that were considered the marks of a skillful, powerful wizard, and George intended to master every single one on his journey to becoming the greatest wizard in Hogwarts. Or at least Hufflepuff, which was a safer bet altogether. Nonverbal magic was not expected of him until fifth year, and performing magic windlessly was not expected from anyone but half-goblins and particularly magical folk. Of course, he expected it of himself by sixth year at the latest, after mastering the art of casting without incantation. But all of this was simply out of reach for a wizard of his age and capabilities.
There was something that he had seen a few wizards his age doing, however – expanding the scope of their spells to target multiple people. From what he had seen demonstrated during his observations in the dueling club, this often led to casting a bit more recklessly – spreading one’s energy out among two people was not a surgical task and required improvising new movements to cope with the difference in targeting and power. To George, this was a perfect challenge. An ability like this, if mastered, would no doubt earn him the respect of even the snobbiest of spellcasters.
But his ‘perfected’ technique was useless for this. By definition, expanding the spell was an imperfect cast, as the incantations had only ever been intended for use on a singular target. He had just spent the last two years stopping himself from breaking the rules, and now he had to learn the bend them. The process was tough to start, but once he had the hang of it, it was really a blast to use and an awe-inspiring sight to behold. Or at least fear-inspiring. There were likely few students at Hogwarts who believed George could be responsible with the power to double his destruction.
The crowning moment of his achievement came after he had spent a long time practicing with the more harmless charms – scourgifying two shirts clean at once, for instance, so that if he fooled it up and backfired somehow, all he would get was a mouthful of soap. Laid out atop chairs were two of his oldest rivals – Freddie, a stuffed animal owned by Jake Morris, as well as an effigy made of wood, built in the image of Cadmus, his pet owl. With a final flourish and swish of his wand, the boy shouted out ‘flipendo’ – sending Freddie flying right back to his bunk and the small wooden owl tumbling over near where Cadmus slept in his cage. He had done it – now, he was starting to become a very impressive wizard.
There was something that he had seen a few wizards his age doing, however – expanding the scope of their spells to target multiple people. From what he had seen demonstrated during his observations in the dueling club, this often led to casting a bit more recklessly – spreading one’s energy out among two people was not a surgical task and required improvising new movements to cope with the difference in targeting and power. To George, this was a perfect challenge. An ability like this, if mastered, would no doubt earn him the respect of even the snobbiest of spellcasters.
But his ‘perfected’ technique was useless for this. By definition, expanding the spell was an imperfect cast, as the incantations had only ever been intended for use on a singular target. He had just spent the last two years stopping himself from breaking the rules, and now he had to learn the bend them. The process was tough to start, but once he had the hang of it, it was really a blast to use and an awe-inspiring sight to behold. Or at least fear-inspiring. There were likely few students at Hogwarts who believed George could be responsible with the power to double his destruction.
The crowning moment of his achievement came after he had spent a long time practicing with the more harmless charms – scourgifying two shirts clean at once, for instance, so that if he fooled it up and backfired somehow, all he would get was a mouthful of soap. Laid out atop chairs were two of his oldest rivals – Freddie, a stuffed animal owned by Jake Morris, as well as an effigy made of wood, built in the image of Cadmus, his pet owl. With a final flourish and swish of his wand, the boy shouted out ‘flipendo’ – sending Freddie flying right back to his bunk and the small wooden owl tumbling over near where Cadmus slept in his cage. He had done it – now, he was starting to become a very impressive wizard.
STATUS: Approved
"outlandishly gay for boys"
Stamina: 10 / Evasion: 12 / Strength: 3 / Wisdom: 13 / Arcane Power: 7 / Accuracy: 12 [color: #632d0b]
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: viewtopic.php?f=169&t=21803
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Fearless
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it) (438 Words):
STATUS: Approved
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Fearless
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it) (438 Words):
Reducio
EmmaLee is fearless. She always has been. Sometimes to her great danger and especially when it involves her friends or an animal in need.
When she was 7, she was walking home in a heavy rainstorm when she heard frantic meowing. The small creek near her home had risen above it’s normal, calm level. The higher water and a particularly tall rock in the middle of the creek had created a little island just short of the bridge. On that island was a grey kitten cowering and wailing in the storm. It was stuck on the little island, unable to jump across the now quickly moving water. EmmaLee went down to the shore and carefully waded into the waist- deep water, holding onto the edge of the bridge. Although the water was going very fast and she almost slipped a couple of times, she grabbed the kitten from the island and took it home.
She never had shied away from defending her friends against a bully, even when the bully socked her in the nose for her efforts. Later in life, shortly after she moved to America, she had made a group of friends and they were playing in the garden area of their condo building. It was a square building with stacks of condos surrounding a large garden area in the middle. An older girl had apparently been bullying her new group of friends ever since the older girl had moved into the building. The first time this girl saw her, she walked up and pulled EmmaLee up from the ground by her braid and told EmmaLee and her friends to get out of “her garden”. EmmaLee whirled around and bit the older girl’s hand. The girl released her in shock but came back almost immediately with a fist and punched EmmaLee right in the nose. Both girls got in trouble for fighting, but the older girl was forced to leave the girls alone after that.
One thing EmmaLee loved doing with this group of friends was pretending that they were detectives. They would make up mysteries to solve in the condo building and in the various wooded areas of Central Park. She was never afraid to explore the park after dark or go down into the cellar or broiler room in order to solve their latest mystery. Whenever her friends decided that it was too dark, or too dusty, or too whatever to go forward, EmmaLee pressed on, sometimes alone. Aside from the mysteries they planted themselves, they solved some really cool random mysteries because EmmaLee was just too curious to back down from a lead.
When she was 7, she was walking home in a heavy rainstorm when she heard frantic meowing. The small creek near her home had risen above it’s normal, calm level. The higher water and a particularly tall rock in the middle of the creek had created a little island just short of the bridge. On that island was a grey kitten cowering and wailing in the storm. It was stuck on the little island, unable to jump across the now quickly moving water. EmmaLee went down to the shore and carefully waded into the waist- deep water, holding onto the edge of the bridge. Although the water was going very fast and she almost slipped a couple of times, she grabbed the kitten from the island and took it home.
She never had shied away from defending her friends against a bully, even when the bully socked her in the nose for her efforts. Later in life, shortly after she moved to America, she had made a group of friends and they were playing in the garden area of their condo building. It was a square building with stacks of condos surrounding a large garden area in the middle. An older girl had apparently been bullying her new group of friends ever since the older girl had moved into the building. The first time this girl saw her, she walked up and pulled EmmaLee up from the ground by her braid and told EmmaLee and her friends to get out of “her garden”. EmmaLee whirled around and bit the older girl’s hand. The girl released her in shock but came back almost immediately with a fist and punched EmmaLee right in the nose. Both girls got in trouble for fighting, but the older girl was forced to leave the girls alone after that.
One thing EmmaLee loved doing with this group of friends was pretending that they were detectives. They would make up mysteries to solve in the condo building and in the various wooded areas of Central Park. She was never afraid to explore the park after dark or go down into the cellar or broiler room in order to solve their latest mystery. Whenever her friends decided that it was too dark, or too dusty, or too whatever to go forward, EmmaLee pressed on, sometimes alone. Aside from the mysteries they planted themselves, they solved some really cool random mysteries because EmmaLee was just too curious to back down from a lead.
STATUS: Approved
Fearless | Calming Presence | E.L. | Prodigal Transfiguration
ST: 9 | EV: 9 | STR: 3 | WI: 8 | ARC: 9 | ACC: 11
Caretaker: A. P. Finch | iNPC: Yasha V.
ST: 9 | EV: 9 | STR: 3 | WI: 8 | ARC: 9 | ACC: 11
Caretaker: A. P. Finch | iNPC: Yasha V.
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Behold the mess.
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: The Muggle Condition.
Describe why this fits your character:
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: The Muggle Condition.
Describe why this fits your character:
STATUS: ApprovedWC = 570
ReducioHow vigorous this world was. How deep its roots extended beyond the purview of his limited understanding. How beautiful, how chilling, and yet all the more fascinating for the comprehensive sum of all its parts. This world of magic, of wonder. A complex state of existence for those who possessed an uncanny connection to the supernatural, and who flourished beneath the noses of the mundane - these beings who called themselves wizards, or donned the title of witch.
It was they whom his muggle parents had deemed fictional, disregarding any passing notion of their presence as an affront to their own reality, and drawing the initial ten years of his life in a likewise manner of thought. Yet here he stood, squarely in the midst of all those fables at which they had scoffed, and representing the very beings who had populated the pages of their storybooks.
With a wand in hand, he was a living contradiction. Though, in spite of that, the occasion frequently struck wherein he questioned the winding strands of happenstance that made up his discrepant state of being. How had it come to be like this? And, indeed, who truly was the stranger in the mirror, who yet bore a familiar gaze? A smile may be worth a thousand words, but hazel eyes told a story - one that weaved words of books both historic and fanciful.
Born to a mother who found her magic in literature, and a father who cast his wizardry in the form of spoken word, the concept of questioning his banal heritage had never broached Marshal’s subject of thought. After all, the inclinations of a childish mind rarely ventured outside the limitations of its environment, and his junior self was hardly an exception.
Undertaking the life of what he’d come to know as a ‘muggle,’ the years preceding his eleventh upon the earth had been consumed by activities and pursuits deemed common by those within the same situational category. Showcasing a natural affinity for physical application from his first moments of independent movement, he’d developed a natural love for muggle sports. Partaking in various options, including basketball, rugby and soccer football, the implications for the betterment of related skills was clear.
As a result of honed abilities, such as hand-eye coordination, reaction speed, and an improved prowess in the explosive transfer of his own strength into a focused target, the boy had sought for the continued opportunity to utilize such capabilities, even following his transition to a world altogether more magical. Instantly gravitating toward the sport of quidditch, he’d seen the sport as the opportune place to meld the days of his future with the obsessions of his past.
Having endured the former decade of his life with neither presence nor hint of the wand that often occupied his hand in the present, he’d also been no stranger to the finer details of physical altercation. Periodically stepping into such in lieu of one with lesser strength, or a thinner layer of confidence to bolster brash action, he’d had no shortage of experience in the art which could be painted by a fist, or the pain of another’s deft stroke.
Even now, though the power of those who call themselves wizards may swirl behind hazel eyes in the mirror, he often prefers to utilize the tactics of his muggle past, rather than resort to the more destructive nature of the supernatural forces within.
~Sometimes you have to laugh at yourself. It helps if you give yourself plenty of reasons~
STA ✩ 10 | EVA ✩ 10 | STR ✩ 14 | WIS ✩ 7 | ARC ✩ 6 | ACC ✩ 15
STA ✩ 10 | EVA ✩ 10 | STR ✩ 14 | WIS ✩ 7 | ARC ✩ 6 | ACC ✩ 15
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Sylvain Wyllt
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Fearless
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
ReducioWhat a year it had been!
Victory, loss, grief, and love. It had been a year of struggling to keep up with all of his friends. A year filled with moments of self-discovery of the most important kind. Time had flown by while connecting with his new family and exploring his own insatiable curiosity which was a lot, as one might imagine, for a growing boy. Having risen to the call of duty by making himself into a quidditch co-captain, Sylvain had spent the majority of the school year keeping his grades high enough to keep from interfering with quidditch. Potions of course being the only class to still capture his interest entirely. If not because of his uncle’s encouragement and support of trying both, then it was due to the fact that on the pitch that he could escape his own feelings for a moment. Sure, potions was who he was, but he was steadily becoming something more.
When he looked back, flashbacks occurred while he unpacked for the new year. In hindsight, he had done so much in the last year.
He had faced off against Vladimir, who tried to breach his mind against his will. Syl remembered that he had tried the path of peace, only to feel forced into resorting to burning down the forbidden forest to save his friends. A summer trip to introduce his uncle to his best friend had eventually resulted in conquering his own fear of flying in order to save Flash from his own blunders. Even the victories of having won a few games of quidditch with a Dhampir on his broom, when he looked back at it all, reminded him that it had been himself who rose to the challenges in front of him. Whether it was bravely commanding his classmates to fight in order to save themselves, or organizing his comrades into a flying formation against terrible opposition, Sylvain had become a brave young leader.
That is simply who he is at this point.
No longer is he so quick to give in to the tightness of his stomach’s complaints, nor is he willing to permit his anxieties to overcome him any longer. Though the feelings themselves still might linger, a more permanent and mature feeling of curiosity began to slowly overpower even the greatest of his fears. Now when he faced danger, he thought what might happen if he acted courageously. Now when he began to fear for himself, he wondered what might happen if he defied the feelings of fear long enough to see what good might come of it? Because he had family and friends to support him, he no longer feared being lonely. Because he could only assume they were worthy of his respect, he no longer feared Dhampirs the way the other children might. Because he had experienced great loss, surreal tragedy, and the real pain of crippling injuries he had learned that the one constant in his life was the ability to count on himself.
As Sylvain put the last of his belongings into the trunk the school had provided, he looked forward to the new year knowing that no matter what came his way he would always be able to try and think of a way to come out on top once more.
STATUS: Approved
"Things are never so bad they can't be made worse." -Elim Garak
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Here!
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Metamorphmagus
Describe why this fits your character:
STATUS: ApprovedReducioJuni had always been different from his family, soon he was to know that he had a magical ability. Ever since he was born his hair would not stay the same colour it would change from ginger to blue to blonde to brunette.
When the nurse held him for a moment his hair turned purple and grew down to his tiny little feet. A few seconds later his hair would go from purple to ginger.
At the age of 6 Juni was going for a haircut as his hair had grown down to his shoulders and his parents did not approve.
He had a very short haircut but was very surprised to see the strands regrow as soon as they were cut. The hairdresser was so shocked she fainted and Juni and his family left the hairdressers swiftly.
At home Juni's hair was waist length and the whisked him up to the bathroom and cut his hair so short you could hardly see any of the hair. His parents were anxious to see if it would grow back and it grew back do a normal men haircut and turned a deep shade of scarlet.
A few weeks later his parents still crazed by what Juni's appearance was doing decided to tell him about a visit they had received when Juni was a little baby he had been told he was a 'Metamorphmagus'.
From that moment on he had been identified as a 'Metamorphmagus'.
At the age of 6 she was being told to eat her salad which was not something she would normally say his hair turned scarlet and his eyes did too. His parents coiled up a little bit and was decided it was not a good idea for him to attend a school. It being to fishy that his emotions changed his appearance and his hair and eyes turning a random color at a random moment.
At 7 this happened so much more after his parents went away for a week and they called a babysitter to look after him, but this was a mistake as his hair went down to his ankles and his eyes turned green. The babysitter fainted and called her parents and told them they must come home immediately. His parents were furious with Juni and this made him even angrier and he screamed at the top of his lungs.
As growing up they had another visit from the lady that had told them he was a 'Metamorphmagus'. She said that it would be easier to control as he grew up but this did not settle his parents and they asked many questions about his strange. She answered the questions politely but it was clear that she was irritant that they had not listened.
His parents thought that being a 'Metamorphmagus' was a temporary but soon found out that it was not in the end his parents were forced to accept that it was permanent.
Juni's personality stayed the same and many times he pretended he was a random person and would knock at the door but his parents recognised this immediately and Juni eventually gave up.
His parents kept him away from other children so he didn't have a lot of practice to hide his ability. He eventually learnt to keep control of his ability and his parents slowly remembered the old Juni.
Mod Edit: Student yet not in Index. Also please change the stats so that they add up to 30.
Everything you thought you knew, you never did... but remember pain is your strength - Juniper Charlie Averys