Status: Pending, Beatrice, 26 April

Please provide a link to your encyclopedia

Status: Approved, Beatrice, 26 April

Link to your encyclopedia thread: Lisa Nortam Langley
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Parselmouth (Talent)
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):

Reducio

Lisa stared at the snake advancing towards her in mild curiosity. They had never hurt her. Infact, they were actually pretty good company. Although some were definitely annoying.

The one currently coiled around her waist was definitely getting to be a pain in the neck. She could feel its scales prickling against her skin. The sensation didn't bother her as much as it probably should have; Lisa liked snakes. After all, they did not kill people (usually). They just made them very nervous.

She softly ran her hand over the snake's smooth scales as it clicked out it's little tongue. When it tightened its grip, she hissed in a sharp exhale.

"Ow! What is your problem!?"

The snake stopped in its tracks. It loosened its grip on her waist, slithering up to eye level, which was at her knee since she was currently sitting on the ground with her knees pulled up.

"You can talk?"
"Of course I can talk.", She was trying very hard not to roll her eyes.

The snake raised its head, "I haven't met anyone who could talk to me before. Heard stories of them though"

"Yeah, I haven't met anyone who could do it either. I've heard it's hereditary but I'm not really sure anyone in my family has i- Wait.", She knew exactly which side of the family it came from. Her mother's. It was so obvious, it was actually concerning she hadn't noticed.

She knew so many people from her dad's side. Her mom....well, basically no one.
Besides, her uncle had mentioned their great-great-great-great something speaking Parseltongue. It made perfect sense!

While Lisa lost herself in her thoughts, the snake wiggled impatiently on her knee. "What? What is it? C'monnnn, what?"
"It was from my mom's side!" It's so obvious!"
Before she could launch into a full-blown explanation, the snake hurled another question at her, "So, do you notice when you're speaking it? Or does it just, I don't know, happen?"

"It just happens, mostly. Although sometimes, I do it consciously, like this right here."

The snake started blankly at her, little head tilting to the side. It was strangely endearing, although it immediately churned up thoughts about how fragile the creature was.

"Well, this was fun", she was shaken out of her thoughts by the hissing voice of the snake. "But I'm starving!"
It resumed its erratic wriggling. Then, stopping, it swilleled its head towards her, "Do you have food?"

A slight grin tugging at her mouth, she nodded, picking the snake up carefully and draping its lithe body around her neck. Bad move if it decided to turn on her, but she didn't really care.

And that was how she met and befriended Lascus (Yes, that's his name). He is currently at her house in Manchester, being an absolute menace. She loves him anyway.

Word Count: 503 words

Stats

Stamina: 5| Evasion: 4 | Strength: 4|Wisdom: 6 | Arcane Power: 6 | Accuracy: 5

Status: Pending, Beatrice, 26 April

Since you have been indexed already, you can choose to subtract stat points but not shift them. Please fix your stats.

Your application is only 473 words. Please add more onto this to meet the 500 word requirement.

Status: Pending, Finley, May 3

Your stats are still shifted around. Please only subtract from your original stats, not re-create stats to add up to 30.

Status: Approved, Beatrice, 19 May

Link to your encyclopedia thread: Pop.
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Keeper's catch.
Describe why this fits your character:
✦──── · · ·
Amongst the many perks of growing up magically inclined, being exposed to a game such as Quidditch was certainly up in the ranks for Maeve. In fact, she couldn't recall a single wizarding family who wasn't ravenous over the game of flying broomsticks and hazardous balls. Who could blame them? All that zooming around, being on the edge of your seat as you watched an opposing team aim right for the goal, thinking all hope is lost, until.. The keeper! Undoubtedly the savior for any team, regardless of conjoined skill. One could easily fawn over a Seeker, but it was the Keepers who really made that bright little girl stand up and scream.

Naturally then was it only a matter of time until a golden-haired girl would be spotted in Diagon Alley, tugging what seemed to be two very exasperated adults along the rows of shops until upon the one and only Quidditch outlet. Her eyes oh so wide, ever so gleaming. The sight of brooms enticed her, golden snitches practically yearning the young girl's grasp. Feeling as though she were a kid in a.. well, a Quidditch store. And while she pleaded for a quaffle of her own to practice with, the Selwyns opted for a practice ball instead. 12 galleons later, Maeve was trotting out of the store merrily alongside two tired, but happy parents.

The next years were spent with the same burning passion she was ignited with. New supplies, yet same heart. All except one thing, seemed to remain the same for Maeve. Her and playing bloody Keeper, something her mother admittedly believed would only grow to be a phase. Though unlike his confused (yet, encouraging) wife, he enjoyed every second of his little girl's newfound love.

"Maves, catch!

Her broom had whipped around, eyes focused and hands outstretched. The practice ball hit her chest, arms clasping tightly overtop it. "Thatta girl!" her father exclaimed, tilting his head as though to say 'toss it back'.

Lowering closer to the ground, her grin widened as she shot finger guns. "Yannow, they don't make those practicers very soft either." She stated as she threw the ball back into the possession of her father, rubbing the mark of the hit with her free hand. While the giggling between the two commenced for a moment, Maeve was soon back in the air and focused once more on catching that damn ball.
───
WC: 401.

Status: Approved, Beatrice, April 26

User is not indexed and there is no trunk post - to follow up

Edit: User has now been reindexed

Status: Approved, Beatrice, April 26

STATUS: Approved, Opeila 28/04

The Astor Manor had always been full of ghosts, for as long as Nerissa knew. Not literal ghosts, not the kind that pass through walls and shriek in the night. No, these were much worse. They were the ghosts of the secrets her father took, and locked away in the walls. And the biggest secret was Nerissa's mother.

Oh, yes, she was beautiful. Strangely pale, and eerily silent, her portrait hung from every wall in the Manor. And as Nerissa aged, she started to see her own features mold into the ones of her mother. Someday, she thought, she would not be able to tell the difference. Until, of course, she outgrew the features, and the turned to wrinkles on her skin.

But his late lover wasn't the only ghostly secret Augustus kept. No, there were more. So many more, too many more, and unlike Nerissa, he did not like keeping them. But he did. For years and years, he held them close, buried them away. He could not stand looking into the face of his daughter, the face that looked so much like her mother's and having to lie, day by day. So he stayed away, travelling abroad and hiding in his office when he was home.

Nerissa did not know what to think of her father's behaviour, but she was only a child, so she didn't bother him. Instead, she found other ways to amuse herself. She played in fields, wandered the manor and explored the surrounding property. Collecting information from the staff and stealing from her father's study was a favourite, but that is a story for another day. Today, we talk about Nerissa's ninth summer.

Summers were the quietest time in the Astor household, for Nerissa's tutor was gone, and the staff dwindled to nearly half it's usual size. Her father, ever distant, would usually be around, but this year he'd been "pulled away by work". Nerissa nearly rolled her eyes at that. That was her father's favourite excuse, but it was also the laziest. Couldn't he just come down for a week without be shut in his office? She'd received a letter explaining his absence about two weeks in, if you could even call it a letter. It was barely a paragraph long, and he didn't even bother to sign it as "Dad" or even "Father". No, his ever difficult self signed it as "Augustus Astor".

Nerissa now stared down at the note in hand, and decided to clear her mind with a walk outside. A fresh breeze always soothed her, as if it was running a fan through her mind, blowing away all the junk and bugs. Sighing contently, she sat down in the grass, and observed the manor from afar. As she did, she noticed a snake trapped in between her crossed legs. She must have nearly sat down on it.

"Perhaps you could free me?" it hissed, and Nerissa nearly jumped out of her skin. Did the snake just... talk? And Nerissa had understood?

"Get away from me," she cried, leaping from her spot.

The snake bowed it's head, saying "Thank you, I shall vacate your premise immediately" And with that, it slithered away, leaving Nerissa to process what had just happened. Was she... a parselmouth? No, it couldn't be, her father would have told her. But would he have? And how else was she able to converse with a snake? She was having trouble catching up with her racing thoughts, questions, answers. Should she owl her father? Nerissa nearly laughed at the possibility, but she had to acknowledge it was the only thing she could do.

That night, she composed her letter, detailing what had happened, and sent it off to her father. He replied the following day with:

Yes, you are a parselmouth. I could not know for sure until now, but after your encounter, I am certain. Your grandfather is also one, and our line goes back many generations. Do not owl back, and do not disturb me when I am at the Astor Manor with more questions. You have your answer.

Augustus Astor

Nerissa would normally be upset with such a cold answer, but she was too filled with even more questions to ponder her father's words too much. However, it did make her frustrated that she wouldn't be able to talk to him, even when he got home. The only way she'd get answers was through snooping, and she doubted there would be much to find. However, she couldn't not look. That night, her search began.

STAMINA = 4
EVASION = 6
STRENGTH = 4
WISDOM = 5
ARCANE POWER = 6
ACCURACY = 5

Status: Approved, Jake, 30 April
User is not indexed. Trunk has been locked.

Link to encyclopedia: Axyen Dragonclaw
Ability I want to apply for: Prodigal Defense Against the Dark Arts learner
Why it fits Axyen:

Axyen always loved to learn more, it was something he was passionate about. He loved to learn so much, he'd often be stubborn to going to sleep while reading or researching whatever scraps he could from his older brother's textbooks, now at Hogwarts, the library has overwhelming information, it was heaven on earth for Axyen as he was overloaded and overwhelmed with information, oh how he would spend all the nights he could here, of course he was not rule-breaker... for the most part.

Axyen found himself constantly spending time, whenever he had free time in the library learning and reading, he often looked for books about school and spells, after all, it was a huge goal of his to be a duelist. Axyen found himself finding Defense Against the Dark Arts the most useful skillset for the role, so Axyen became more interested in defending himself and learning new spells. Whenever not learning spells or potions and not studying, he would daydream about being a duelist, he imagined himself sending spells and practicing, working hard and putting in the time and hours working hard. This was a great motivating factor that kept Axyen studying.

Axyen realized the best way to learn some spells was not just reading and studying the entire course's spells, but even one year ahead. Axyen thought about it, being a year ahead of his classmates, of course, after all, he couldn't keep dreaming about it and doing nothing. Axyen wanted to be a duelist, it would help make up for not being a Gryffindor, and his mom would be proud, it was one of the things she talked about that got him so interested into the sport in the first place. It wasn't just the fact that Axyen wanted to be a duelist, but also the fact that he was heavily thinking about being a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor as a future career.

Overall, Axyen studies the book because of how important it is too him, it is something he takes extremely seriously, but its not all black and white and there is something more to it than just that. Axyen feels pressure from his mother, father, and older brother who in their own right played a sport, and excelled at something in their younger years, and what's supposed to be encouragement turns out to be pressure on Axyen's end. Pressure to excel, pressure to do great at whatever sport he decides to play. Even though his family never intentionally put pressure on Axyen, Axyen feels like its a competition with himself, despite loving the books he has a constant fear of not excelling and letting his family down in some way.

Axyen also feels heavily inspired by his brother who excelled in Defense Against the Dark Arts and was a duelist in his time. Axyen's older brother, Jacob Dragonclaw, is Axyen's childhood hero, someone he looked up to highly(which slightly annoys his brother sometimes.)

Axyen's motivation to continue his education further is what makes him so exceptional at Defense Against the Dark Arts. Axyen strives in studying for not only his sport, but also a potential job career.

[[Word Count: 534/500]]

Stats: Stamina - 6 | Evasion - 6 | Strength - 2 | Wisdom - 8 | Arcane Power - 5 | Accuracy - 8

Status: Approved | May 8 (Phaedra)

Status : Approved, Aurora Ranvier (10 May 2023)

Link to your encyclopedia thread: This Encyclopedia has been accepted, I will happily comply to any changes needed before accepting this application!

Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Lycanthropy (Werewolf)

Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):

Pre-Attack (Unimportant)

Reducio

The night was cold and desolate, crows silenced, snakes slumbered, and man transformed. Winter crept into the forest, thoughtlessly settling its blinding sheets onto the ill leaves of the trees, The Beast was nothing but a dark shade in the night, it's wolf-like figure a silhouette sliding amid bare, hollow pine-trees.

There was not one month left until Oliver Thorn was to board the Hogwarts Express, to travel to a Magical Wizard Boarding School to learn of the Wizarding World, which until 1 year ago was kept secret from him and his sister, the absurdity of it struck the Thorn Family promptly as Platform 9 and Three Quarters was only weeks away, the entire quartet required some peace, a break from the commotion, then entered an idea, a plan from Oliver's innovative father: Coriolan Thorn.

Next thing Oliver knew his family was stuffing their things into old, beaten backpacks. His father with an ear-to-ear grin submerged anything he could get his hands on into his bag: firewood, sleeping bags, toiletries, snacks, firewood, boardgames, a professional telescope, even more firewood, it looked like Coriolan was aiming to put the entire fridge in next, yet the bag never filled, it was one object after another, some far larger then the bag itself yet the compartment never denied, Oliver was at awe, his sister beside him not even taking noticed as she grumbled and loitered around the house pathetically, Oliver took note of his sister's enthusiasm but was far to amazed to be stumped by it, before Oliver could say a word his father exclaimed the magnificence of his craft lifting up his bag over his shoulder with ease.

After a long wait for Oliver's mother to pack the entire kitchen they were off, the car started with an unusual hiss transitioning into a soft hum as the car started, the car rode far out of Aylesbury beyond the fields of farm-sheds and cows, stopping only when met with the immovable wall of pine-tree bark and ringing cicadas, Oliver's sister (who had grown comfortable with the sudden environment) inquired with her dad what exactly was his idea, Coriolan's face lit up like a mantle turning his head to his children as he lead them down a twisting, sandy path sown through the forest, Coriolan's grand idea was a camp, a weekend with nature exploring muggle activities and enchanted inventions of his own making, the walk was long and exhaustive for the young ones short legs it didn't help that even though the sky has turned an ominous orange that the pine trees attempted to curtain with their leaves, Coriolan showed no sign of stopping to set up camp, eventually his mother (Helena) got worried not wanting to set up camp in the middle of the night an opinion she shared with the kids but his father shrugged off their worries warning them that camping to close to the entrance might expose what he has to muggles, Oliver still didn't understand the muggle idea much but it didn't matter as Coriolan decided to lay the camping area beneath the last breaths of sunlight.

The first night was enchanting, literally. Flame-fuelled Salamander Puppets, a mouse-sized circus carnival, a tight miniature quidditch match (about the size of a 1-man tent), and marsh-mellow roasting near a rainbow fire, it was a terrific start to the camp, Oliver was even in the mood to sleep in the same tent as his obnoxious sister after all the fun but that notion was challenged when he noticed that there was only 1 tent, as Oliver's father packed away all of his work into a violently purple suit-case he let out a cartoonish sigh walking around the solo sized tent expressing worries that they might all not fit, Coriolan entered the tent first gesturing his children inside, with a gulp Oliver entered cautiously trying not to step on his dad, but the inside felt peculiar, wooden floor tiles with a warm firelight basking his leg he put his head in next and it was clear, the tent did not match the outside.

The Thorn Family slept well that night, a sentence you would not particularly hear on a camp but such a tent made the difference, it was Oliver's favourite part of the magical world he got to experience from the camp, but that was the last of the good memories.

The trees taunted The Werewolf; brushing their leaves freely through the air, thriving with life, dancing as one, a bristling canopy of green obscured by the midnight sky. The woods was nothing but a prison, with stony cliffs, static lakes, and weathered bark, those imprisoned with The Furred Beast were nothing but his feast; extra meat lying still beneath make-shift homes of fabric. It awoke, a full-moon glaring down at it with white-blinding rays, the wolf-like figure exhaled deeply for the scent of any prey, but it's snout was only filled with the essence of leaves and dirt, opening its black, marbly eyes it was positioned at the height of a cliff gazing down towards a dense forest, the cliff was an obstacle that would prove difficult for the figure to search the main scope of the forest.

After many hours the wolf had found itself on the levelled soil of the campground, though very far from the popular campsites, the moon had already prepared it's leave bidding farewell as it edged towards the mountains, The Werewolf was starving on all 4 it's claws dug into the soil ripping it from the ground with every pounce, it galloped in this manner, it's snout pointed outwards like a harpoon begging for a live scent, then it found it, 4 ideal prey waiting for the beast atop a hill packaged by an odd shelter, a healthy smell and a vibrating sound radiating.

During and After Attack (Important)

Reducio

Oliver woke with a start, hearing the pines sway and the bushes rustle a reminder that he was not in the comfort of his room, Oliver looked from the edge of his bed, his family sleeping like a rock and his dad snoring with unsettling magnitude, the young boy decided it'd be best to go to sleep, turning in his bed to the fabric of the tent inches away from his face where he could see the soothing silhouette of the trees waltzing. Yet the tree's shape began to change; the trunks of the trees turned into agile, canine arms, pointy ears sprung from the leaves and a coned nose craned from side to side, the silhouette was of a living figure, the legs marched forward as the shape grew in size, Oliver began to hear a soft beat emanating from the figure's direction, the sound grew with the size of the silhouette until it was apparent to be the crunching of leaves, Oliver lifted his head from his pillow and without thought heaved himself from his bed as sharp claws shredded the cloth wall of the tent, shattering his bed-frame like a karate-board. A furred, malnourished wolf stood vacating the space, with gleaming vermillion eyes and a flooding jaw, vacating where a tent-wall once stood the figure stared at Oliver with a foreboding grin.

As soon as Oliver saw the beast clutch it's knuckles, the werewolf pounced at him with supernatural speed, first Oliver saw a hideous, furred face stamped inches before him, next a gush of blood. Oliver clenched his left arm, the stench of iron coated Oliver's limb as the beast towered over him, Oliver couldn't even mind a thought only mentally exclaiming the excruciating pain of his injury, the figures furred face bared it's teeth, as its brows furrowed and foam leaked Oliver mustered a thought, a acknowledgement that this monster's face might be the last thing he ever sees, growling blocked his thoughts as the beasts jaw began to shudder then a harsh crack, the beast began to whimper flinching its face and shutting its mouth looking away, the crack expressed again, then again and again one crack after another, a harsh, sharp, demanding snap, the beast freed itself from Oliver backing out of the hole it entered through as a red blue zipped towards the whimpering predator.

"Back! away you brute!" Coriolan exclaimed firmly pointing a sleek whip towards the monster, the whip was bewitched, the tails moved expertly with no gesture slashing with excessive force cutting into the mindless savage, the beast was ushered out of the tent towards the saffron sky, the moon had bid farewell and the sun had shun its warm rays, the wails and whimpers of the monster soon became screams and begging as a man took the place of the monster kneeling down on the sandy trail.

The Thorn Family Camp Trip came to a close not 24 hours after the idea first blossomed, Coriolan made a hasty effort to pack resorting to his wand for nearly every step, Helena and Olivia were eagerly checking Oliver's left arm for injury but all that could be seen after Coriolan's mediocre healing charms and enchanted first aid were seen were faint yet distinct scars near the bicep, as they left the campsite Coriolan's ordered his son to wear a long-sleeved shirt which Oliver accepted without thought. As they returned through the sandy trail The Thorn Family collided with a pack of wizards wearing dull, black suits, but Oliver's father was far from the endearing man he usually was; the tallest of the Aurors stepped before Coriolan, they exchanged words like old friends.

"Ah Coriolan, glad to not find you in my office again?" The tall figure exclaimed.

"Yes well, it is never a delight to see you mind the circumstances." Coriolan retorted

Oliver quickly surmised that it was a ministry employee who had to address one of the several mistakes Coriolan had made in front of muggles in the past, and they continued their verbal exchange. When Coriolan asked why a Muggle Artefact Officer was in the forest, a Ministry official motioned to his comrades and grinned broadly, assuring him that they were all now legitimate aurors and hunting a werewolf out of control. Oliver could hear only a few words slipping from their argument: "Headmaster" "Lycanthropy" "Expulsion," to which Coriolan quickly responded, "Headmaster Lear knows how to handle these situations, even if IT has happened then I am sure Headmaster Lear will prepare precautions!" Coriolan's face dropped; he grabbed the friendly officer's sleeve and motioned him off the path while conversing with him in animated gestures.

Oliver's family and the ministry workers both heard Coriolan's remark, and, thinking it fruitless to hide it with whispers, the head auror yelled angrily at Oliver's father, "Alright! However, I don't believe you to tell the Headmaster, I'll Owl him myself!" The Auror whistled and motioned for his companions to follow him along the path. Coriolan turned to face the Auror and yelled out the location of the unconscious werewolf at the campground. The head auror commanded Coriolan to "do the right thing!" as the Aurors continued to accelerate. Coriolan exhorted his family to carry on travelling the path.

Once the Thorn Family made it home it took a couple days to get to normal but Coriolan was quick to assume his care-free role as-if the incident never happened, and it seemed to work being the only seasoned wizard in the family Coriolan took lead when it came to the supernatural. As a surprise, Coriolan gave Oliver a book with an illustrated cover showing a guy partially in the sunshine and partially as a wolf-like figure in the night. Oliver inquired how we would know for sure after Coriolan described the foundations of lycanthropy to him and warned him that he might be carrying a curse. Coriolan turned to the fifth page of the book, where the chapter started with an illustration of the moon, which was perfectly round and bright. The following full moon will occur close to the end of Oliver's first week at Hogwarts, and he declared that the school will supply him with a potion in the event that night proves to be unusual.

In conclusion.

I believe my character: Oliver Thorn is a pleasing fit as a Lycanthrope, Oliver Thorn is a head-strong, loyal, arrogant, friendly and caring Hufflepuff. All virtues that makes Oliver a complicated and interesting character if this hides the fact that every Full-Moon he is forced to take a tragic form, the idea of being generally caring is clearly parallel to his monstrous form but his eager personality still makes his wolf-like ability appropriate and the abilities he gains from this curse later on emphasises his curiosity, his thin and skinny figure is also quite suitable for a Werewolf being they are violently hungry and fierce predators. Oliver and his father is hopeful of the possibility he hadn't been cursed, meaning he will feel mental anguish from the sudden change, in a story sense Oliver will be revealed this through his first week in Hogwarts bringing trials to his first year and to anyone that gets dragged into his crisis.
1st Part: 970 Words (Sorry...)
2nd Part: 774 Words (It is fine if you would like to just read this)

Stats Before: STA • 5 | EVA • 7 | STR • 5 | WIS • 3 |ARC • 5 | ACC • 10
Stats After: STA • 4 | EVA • 7 | STR • 3 | WIS • 3 |ARC • 5 | ACC • 8

Status: Approved, Beatrice, 11 June

Status: Pending, Beatrice, 15 May

I have great many questions about this app because it is confusing.

-I read your background and it describes Monty's mother as magical since she has a wand. This race app describes her as muggle. Which is she?
-Why would his parents allow him to go to muggle school? Especially as a Dhampir child who would not know how to control themselves.
-The sharpened fingernails are not claws. Please change this.

This part: "His parents told him to tell his parents he couldn't bring unnecessary accessories to her class." Are you referring to the teacher? Please edit this to make sense.

And this part: "he gave birth to his father". His father cannot genetically give birth to his son. The race aspect would be passed down, yes, but his grandfather himself would not have given birth to father. Please change this.

Status: Denied, Beatrice, 15 June

This has been 30 days without edits and as such this is denied. Your character will be human and you will be unable to apply for a special race/talent again.