Reducio

Stats
Stamina: 10 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 15 | Wisdom: 6 | Arc Power: 3 | Accuracy: 15
[6 stats from Sports Wins]

Extracurricular| Broom Racer
Broom| Silver Arrow
Stats| +3 to all
Top Speed| 5

Abilities

Year 1 Fearless Word Count: 402

Reducio

The sky is the limit, and you can’t fully take advantage of that if you are too afraid to seize your moment. Angélique knew from the first moment that a broom flew up into her hand that she wanted to take off and fly as high as the stars. She had always been a child of adventure, and even the fencing around her home couldn’t keep her in. No matter what, her parents told her. It didn’t matter that dangerous wild animals were lurking in nature; she wanted to see the world outside of her gilded cage. Always clambering over the fence to explore the countryside, approaching wild fauna, and watch the fish, turtles, and frogs in the local river.

The thrill of a new animal, kicking off the grass on a broom, and going into unexplored areas was what she lived for. Adrenaline always coursed through her veins, and instead of being afraid of it, she embraced it with open arms. The way her heart raced, pounding hard in her chest, was like the beat of her own drum that she marched to. She could even remember the first day that it happened and excited her. She had snuck away from her au pair to hop the gate and pick some wildflowers. While she minded her own business across the clearing, a fully grown male red deer emerged from the trees. It was easily three to four times her size, and when she saw it, her heart jumped so hard into her throat, but instead of feeling fear, she was excited.

The deer did not approach her or put her in any danger other than its rather large existence. All it did was stand there and observe her just as she stood there and watched it. She could recognize that she was being given a gift to see such a beautiful creature.

In flying class, she noticed it again when she mounted her broom and kicked off. Even when some of her other classmates presented themselves too afraid to even call the broom to their hands, she was already flying high into the sky. Pushing the school broom to its limits flying around the designated area as fast as the broom let her. Something that landed her a harsh scolding from the professor and the promise of detention if she should ever pull a stunt like that again in her class.

Year 2 Evasive maneuvers Word Count: 416

Reducio

One of Angélique’s hobbies was dance, and while she didn’t take it as seriously as others, she did find that it kept her exceedingly limber. Dancing gave you a distinct understanding and control over your own body, allowing you to trust it in the movements you wanted to make. Dancing wasn’t something you always thought about after you truly learned a dance. From there, it was all muscle memory, and you need to trust that your body knew exactly what it needed to do it and how it needed to move to make it happen. When you didn’t was when you started to overthink, and that is when you would find yourself screwing up a move or your timing. In dance, timing is everything coordinating your body around others, ensuring that you are aware of your own movements and those around you. If another dancer on the floor goes to the wrong spot or, god forbid, falls, you need to be able to avoid that so that you, yourself, do not get harmed. This is one of the things that Angélique learned that she excelled at. Her body didn’t need instruction from her; it just moved and avoided those who made mistakes around her. Even when she herself made a mistake, she always seemed to manage to do it in such a way that she never hit anyone else in the process.

The same came to her when she was on a broom practicing for broom racing. Flying through the trees, quidditch goal posts, and other obstacles that they would have created for training. She found herself avoiding other players more than most of the others, seeming to fly gracefully around obstacles and dodging the ones that she wasn’t expecting. While she still got waylaid by something here or there, it was still very notable that her body seemed to react sometimes before she had processed a danger around her and avoided it.

As a child in favor of adventuring, she thought it had to deal with the fact that she knew her land, or thought she did, and could always just avoid holes in the ground that threatened to roll the ankles of people unlucky enough to step in them. Or even evade that spot that was just slippery enough to make you slip into the river. She was just a lucky young lady with a body that seemed to know how to react and sometimes before she even or ever knew she needed to.

Year 3 Evasive Maneuvers II Word Count: 432

Reducio

Angél had come a long way from adventuring around her backyard and practicing dancing with her friends at school. Though that didn’t stop her from doing either of those things. Dancing was still a great way to keep limber and learn how the muscles in your body react to specific movements. It helped her while she flew, knowing that if she flexed her muscles in a certain way, she could maneuver herself through the tighter areas of the track.

Last year, her first opportunity came in October of 2020 to fly on a real track with real competitors. It had been exhilarating to be one of the ones to get through all the narrow passages, forest, and brambles completely unharmed. Not to mention bobbing around the other students who took off at the same time while casting spells. Her skill was impeccable, but if there was one thing that she had learned about Hogwarts was that it was chaotic, and the next race, she might not be so lucky.

Angél would push for Broom racing practices at school to be more rigorous. After all, they were known for having the best, so they needed to make sure that they were never dethroned. If that meant trying to propose harsher tracks to practice on and probably be declined, then so be it. It wouldn’t stop her from trying to weave in and out of the towers on their castle and anything else she could make into an obstacle.

During school, she rushed around more, taking tighter corners and running through the more crowded pathways. Finding out that she bumped into or had close calls with people less and less as time went on. Then came June of 2021, where she took her broom and zipped around the forest enclosed on her family's plot of land in the countryside. There were some injuries here and there that her father would take care of, but all in all, she was right, and her practice was really paying off.

Finally, what would seem like the last testament to practicing her skills was the official broom race in July of 2021. This time more racers were on the field than she remembered being some of them far more intimidating. While during this race, there were some bumps and bruises, she had made it a personal goal to get past the famous Whomping Willow unharmed, and she had done just that. Whipping past the dangerous tree and pulled into victory, being the raining champion in Broom Racing and bringing her team to glory. She felt unstoppable and untouchable.

Approved

[quote][quote][img]/images/upload/v10kxu.webp[/img][/quote]
[quote][table]
[tr]
[td][quote][center][b]Stats[/b][/center]
[center]Stamina: Evasion:6 
Strength:7 Wisdom:6 
Arcane power: 7 Accuracy:10
(+1 from Broom Racing Win.)
(+1 from Quidditch win.)[/center][/quote][/td]
[td][quote][center][b]Abilities[/b][/center]
[center]Keen Eye
[/center][/quote][/td]
[/tr]
[tr]
[td][quote][center][b]Extracurricular[/b][/center]
[center]Quidditch[/center][/quote][/td]
[td][quote][center][img]/images/upload/cyg3l1.webp[/img][/center][/quote][/td]
[/tr]
[/table][/quote][/quote]

Approved

Approved

[quote][quote][table][tr][td][b]Broom Racer? [color=#ffffff]NO[/color][/b][/td]
 
[td][b]Quidditch Player? [color=#ffffff]YES[/color][/td]
 
[td][b]Duelist? [color=#ffffff]NO[/color][/b][/td][/tr][/table][/quote]
 
[quote][b]Stats:[/b]
[center]╭──────────────────────────────────────────────╮[/center]
[center][b][i]STA : 7 | EVA : 9 | STR: 5 | WIS : 10 | ARC : 6 | ACC : 9[/i][/b][/center]
[center]╰──────────────────────────────────────────────╯[/center][/quote]
[quote][b]Abilities: [center][i][size=150][color=#ffffff]LOVELY CREATURE[/color][/size][/i][/center][/b]
[reducio]For as long as Henri could remember, people had always gushed about how his looks were divine or how one day, he would undoubtably grow up to break many hearts of both men and women. He had never failed to notice how his caretakers would whisper amongst themselves in the halls of the grandiose [i]Château de Bourbon[/i] about his ethereal traits. [i]'Sa beauté est ravissant, même à son jeune âge,'[/i] they would say. [i]'C'est de la famille, sûrement. Il l'a hérité de sa mère.'(*)[/i]
 
When Henri had been old enough to understand what they mean, he'd spent a full hour staring at the mirror in his quarters and had acknowledge their words had all been true. He had been only eight then, but he could see how his ashy blond locks would shimmer like golden threads and how his grey eyes shone like jewelry in the light. Although he did not possess Veela blood, one could almost mistake him to be one at first glance. Deep down, Henri did not rejoice at this fact for all of these attractive features belonged to a mother who did not love him. Juliette Marie de Bourbon had given her son everything but maternal affection, as she should have. But all would be fine, Henri had thought darkly to himself in the sanctuary of his bedroom. Because beauty was a powerful weapon, and the young Bourbon Heir would harness it to perfection and use it to his advantage in the future.
 
True to his conviction, the blond-haired little boy had begun taking care of his appearance more and observe other beautiful individuals to improve what was necessary. For someone so young, nobody had suspected he'd been more mature in his mind then he'd seemed. Henri would meticulously style his hair in the mornings, carefully pick out clothes that would compliment his complexion the most, spend a reasonably amount of time under the sun as to not appear sickly pale, and respect a religious diet that would allow him to maintain a healthy and pleasing form from body to skin. The boy had learnt to smile more, even if they'd been as fake as the positive and disarming emotions he'd force onto his face to charm other people. 
 
This had continued on until he'd turned 11, and Henri had found all of his effort hadn't gone to waste. It was the day when he'd be escorted to [i]L'Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons[/i], and as soon as he'd stepped foot in Cannes and witnessed many heads turning around twice to get a better look at him as he'd passed by. Some of the girls had even been blatantly staring, and blushed bright red when he'd innocently flashed them a practiced dazzling smile full of perfectly white teeth. As the Bourbon Heir bid one of his caretakers goodbye and climbed on the Abraxan carriage, Henri's smile had morphed into something more gleefully malignant--momentarily twisting his beautiful features. Perhaps, if there was one single thing he would be grateful to his useless [i]Mère[/i] for, it was giving him the most dangerous weapon of all.
[quote][i](*)[revelio][i]His beauty is delightful, even at his young age. It certainly runs in the family. He inherited it from his mother.[/i][/revelio][/i][/quote][/reducio][/quote]
[quote][center][size=150][i][color=#ffffff][b]CHARMER[/b][/color][/i][/size][/center]
[reducio]Henri knew that only good looks alone did not suffice to get him far into the world, especially not within the competitive and cutthroat Pureblood community. The scramble for the top of the food chain was arduous and the young de Bourbon Heir understood at once that the fastest way to climb the ladder was with the right words and the right attitude.
 
The ethereal beauty he'd inherited from [i]Mère[/i] which made people turn their heads to get a second better look at him served both as a base and an advantage. 
 
Since he'd started his first year at Beauxbatons, Henri had learnt quickly that he should make use of the attention he seized from other at a first glance and put himself out there to communicate with people. After all, being seen as the person to initiate a conversation always proved to be an excellent first impression. Everybody was already enthralled by his practiced handsome smile and as soon as the compliments began tumbling from his lips, they were already wrapped around his finger. Henri always said what people wanted to hear, not what they should be told. He knew how to appeal to a an arrogant man's ego, or to praise a conceited woman's narcissism. 
 
The young French upped his acting even more around professors at [i]L'Académie,[/i] always addressing them with a disarming smile accompanied with the utmost respectful behaviour. He never acted out of line and his outstanding grades only served to earn their favour even quicker. With his peers, Henri knew when to offer sympathy and when to offer his trust--even if it was all just an elaborate plan to subtly coerce them into his entourage. He made sure to display himself as someone friendly and extraverted, allowing the other students to have the illusion that he was approachable and trustworthy. Some of them especially adored his flirtatious remarks spoken with a silky purr, and Henri never corrected the gossiping for it was the perfect boost to his charismatic personality. 
 
Even if he was a secretly vain person, Henri always reminded himself to remain as humble as possible without crossing the line of low self-esteem. People naturally appreciated those who knew their places, especially when they believed themselves to be superior than him--whether the silly thought was true or not. It added more to his charm, he mused, and always responded to compliments directed at him with a modest laugh, even though he silently scoffed at their attempt to get in his good graces. Body language was also a weapon Henri had mastered perfectly--a deferential tip of the head when talking to upperclassmen or adults, attentive gazes with witty humour when conversing with his 'friends', carefree gestures to lure others into a sense of security around him.
 
All in all, Henri had learnt the art of charming deception.[/reducio][/quote]
[quote][center][size=150][i][color=#ffffff][b]KEEN EYE[/b][/color][/i][/size][/center]
[reducio]Over the course of two years at the [i]L'Académie,[/i] Henri had learned a valuable skill as an active student socialite. There were times when he talked less, and observed more. Henri began to notice things that usually escaped a common person's eye - a misplaced object here, a clothing out of place there, and even the buzzing of a certain gilded flying ball on the Quidditch field. He discovered how easy it was to [i]see[/i] when one stood back, blend into the background and examined their surroundings instead of putting themself forward. And true to the power hungry individualist he was, Henri wanted to develop this new found skill to its fullest.

He started exploring the hidden corridors and halls of Beauxbatons whereas the other students preferred art over adventure. Henri's steps were slow and purposeful, cold grey eyes scanning every nook and cranny in search for anything that no one else had discovered before. It felt like knowing a secret all for his own benefit. Already in his wicked mind Henri was scheming on how to manipulate this ability as a weapon for his benefit. He charmed the occasional lovely companion hanging off his arm in school by presenting a piece of jewelry he'd [i][s]stolen[/s][/i] found lying around in a secluded corner of the dormitories. He helped other students or teachers find misplaced items to gain their favour. There were a few times where he even spotted the snitch seconds before their own Seeker did during Quidditch practices. Henri was quickly becoming known for his sharp, keen eyesight and this grew his ego immeasurably.

The satisfaction only increased tenfold when the summer he returned to the [i]Château de Bourbon[/i] to make use of his improved visibility. The things he'd never once noticed suddenly coming into his sight - old grimoires on the darkest arts of magic that were gathering dust in the corners of the forgotten attic, or useful little trinkets in one of the many tearooms of the extravagant mansion possessed. The domestics became used to his developped behaviour, no longer seeing Henri snooping around some random hall of the [i]Château[/i] to be something strange. The boy kept a private collection of all the things he'd found in his bedroom, proudly naming them the trophies of his new accomplishment - the ability to [i]see[/i] where others couldn't. It was just another thing to boost his already wicked vanity, but as long as Henri drew personal advantages from it, who was he to refute his keen eyes?[/reducio][/quote][/quote]

Approved

Stats Stamina:7 Evasion:6 Strength:7 Wisdom:6 Arcane power:7 Accuracy:10 (+1 from Broom Racing Win.) (+1 from Quidditch win.) (+1 from Broom racing win)	Abilities Keen Eye
Extracurricular Quidditch

Denied Your stat total equals 44 which is not possible with three wins.

In addition. we ask for all the sport wins to be linked for the very reason I am sending this message.

On Sept 1 you applied for a +1 for a quidditch win.

Reducio

And now you are also applying for a broom racing win 12 days later. The original one should have been linked and Mags on Sept 1 should not have approved you there either. I should not have had to go back and look for it but I did and I found links to another 2. This takes a lot of my time and is unfair to me. I intended to edit your trunk with the source of both of those wins and give you a warning that future updates will require full link logs or I would be forced to decline your update. However, I cannot approve your request because your total is over by 1.

+1 from Broom Race| 1
+1 from Quidditch Win (1)

PENDING September 26 - Owled to explain we need edit to 43 stat points instead of 44 by October 3rd.

Approved

NPC Name: Maximilien de Fostoncy
Link: here
Year: 4th
Stats:
old stats: stamina 7 | evasion 11 | strength 2 | wisdom 13 | arcane power 7 | accuracy 11
new stats: stamina 7 | evasion 11 | strength 3 | wisdom 13 | arcane power 7 | accuracy 11
+1 stat point from broom racing win
Extracurricular: broom racer (unchanged)
Trunk coding:

Reducio

Code: Select all

[quote][quote][center][size=150][b][i]- TRUNK -[/i][/b][/size][/center][/quote]
[quote][center][size=115][b]| stats |[/b][/size]
[b]sta[/b] 7 · [b]eva[/b] 11 · [b]wis[/b] 13 · [b]str[/b] 3 · [b]arc[/b] 7 · [b]acc[/b] 11
[size=95][i]+2 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=40&t=13594&hilit=&start=50#p215087]quidditch win[/url] & [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=463143#p463143]broom racing win[/url][/i][/size][/center][/quote]
[quote][center][size=115][b]| abilities |[/b][/size][/center][color=transparent]—[/color][b]year 1.[/b] lovely creature
[reducio][size=95]At the time Maximilien was born, he was considered handsome. It was not really a surprise, though, since his parents were all extremely good looking. Mélanie Janvaque was one of the most gorgeous girls in class in her school days, and Vincent de Fostoncy was secretly had a crush on by many students. Honestly speaking, no one in the family wasn’t good looking — from Louis to Maximilien.

Successfully inherited his mother’s eye color and hair color, the boy was fairly good looking. He had good the straight nose of the de Fostoncy family, and thin, pink lips. His eyelashes were long, and were of brown color. His mother regarded him as a doll when he was sleeping. Actually, even if the boy’s awake, he was like a gorgeous statue.

When walking on the streets in Lyon, Maximilien was looked attentively by many strangers. They stopped when he and his father passed by, and pointed at them secretly. Sometimes the boy’s ears would catch a few words like “handsome” “good looking” “lovely”. He was young at that time, and did not really take these things seriously. However his father was glad. Glad that someone had praised his son.

Attending fancy balls played a large part in the family. Louis de Fostoncy, the current count, especially loved these kinds of activities. Taking the beautiful Madame de Fostoncy, the handsome Chevalier de Fostoncy, and the young de Fostoncy heir was just extremely agreeable, since whenever and wherever the family of four showed up, they would earn applause and praises. People admired the wealthy family, but especially, envied their beauty. They dragged the young heir near them, and examined him carefully, hoping to point some flaws on his face out. However, they failed. Maximilien was too lovely to find out a flaw. If you had to point something out, you might say that he’s a bit chubby — but he was still a good looking child. The old ladies especially loved this pretty boy. They talked with him for hours, even if the boy got bored. 

By the time he was eleven, Maximilien had became even more handsome. He had mostly grew his chubby cheeks out, became taller, athletic built, and was always dressed in elegant dark colored clothes. The boy was still admired and envied by many others, and the future count of the de Fostoncy family was highly estimated. 

Without a doubt, Maximilien de Fostoncy was always a lovely creature.

WC | 405[/size][/reducio][color=transparent]—[/color][b]year 2.[/b] perfectionist
[reducio][size=95]Growing up, Maximilien had always been a perfectionist. Being stubborn, he wanted everything to be the best — which he would not regret afterwards.

From the age of four, his grandfather forced him to stay inside the house and study spells and potions for the whole morning. His father was his mentor — and to his surprise, Maximilien did everything extremely well. One day Monsieur le Chevalier taught him a difficult potion, and within hours, Maximilien could revise the recipe correctly. Vincent was surprised. But what he did not know is, after he had gave the book to the young Maximilien and left, the boy copied the recipe for seven times. It was really long, but he still did it.

Upon the time he was accepted into Beauxbatons, Maximilien was hard working student. He loved Charms and Potions, as well as Defense Against the Dark Arts. Most of his classmates had seen this boy working alone late at night in his dormitory, and many of them had seen him practicing spells in an empty classroom. The library was nearly Maximilien’s second home — he did not have many friends, so he visited there a lot during weekends. 

The boy wanted everything to be perfect. He studied hard, did physical exercises everyday, and kept a healthy diet. He was proud and stubborn, so it helped him to be perfect. Day by day, he continued to study in the library and his dorm. And as a result, he improved day by day.

He received seven Os in his examination. His grandfather and father was really glad, but they still lacked knowledge of how hard Maximilien had worked. Most things were perfect — and that’s exactly what Maximilien wanted to see. He was overjoyed to see his academic results, and the boy decided that he would even study harder afterwards. He wanted himself to be the best, though he had never spoken it out loud.

When it’s the summer before his second year, Maximilien spent tons of time reading in the library in the de Fodtoncy Estate. While his grandfather was busy showing off at friends’ houses, his father busy running the wine estate, and his mother busy visiting her own maiden family, Maximilien read, and learnt. He had briefly met his cousins for two days, and all they saw was the boy was reading whenever and wherever. Maximilien loved it, and decided to do everything well. 

His knowledge of spells and potions were extending every moment. It’s no surprise that he had already became a perfectionist — because, Maximilien de Fostoncy was just born as one.

WC | 424[/size][/reducio][color=transparent]—[/color][b]year 3.[/b] spell spread[reducio][size=95]Summer. Summer was always agreeable for Maxi, and especially this one. Monsieur le Comte had accepted the Duke Springhall’s invitation for him staying over for July, and thus Maximilien arrived at the Springhall Heights as soon as his schoolyear ended in Beauxbatons. The Duke welcomed him warmly, and he soon won the old wizard’s favour - who agreed to give him some lessons on duelling.

We would skip the part of how Maxi won this special favour, as even the boy himself was quite ignorant of the reason. Maybe it was because of his fine etiquette, compared to Edmund and Lindsey - or it was simply because that the Duke desperately wished to teach some young wizards the art of combating magic. Maxi knew that Edmund was nowhere near the title of a duellist, and Lindsey was on her house Quidditch team, and the Duke wasn’t very into that - somehow he regarded duelling as “the only sport that’s worth participating”.

But anyways, everything started within a week he arrived. Maximilien began to visit the Duke’s personal studio daily at 10 o’clock in the morning, and showed up as the very last one for tea. Finding his interests in the ancient English books about duelling, Maxi was more than happy to expand his knowledge. He was a perfectionist and wished perfection in everything, after all. Practicing always came after simple reading. It would be countless times every day, when Maxi raised up his wand and uttered the incantation out. The Duke would watch over every single spell he casted at the dummies (the Duke Springhall [i]did[/i] have one or two in his studio), and offered him some help. And then he would teach the young Frenchman some strategies and tactics, the latter found [i]everything[/i] fascinating, including the stern looking old wizard himself.

But no. None of these were as fascinating - as grand as what happened the other day, when he was about to leave in a few days. It was just like every other morning in York, cloudy and a little bit rainy. Facing two dummies and having the old wizard closely watching, Maxi raised his wand up. [color=#586d9d][b]“Flipendo!”[/b][/color] he uttered in perfect English, which made the Duke’s knitted brows smoothed. As what both the old and the young had expected, one line of blue light flashed out directly from the point of Maximilien’s wand. It was [i]perfect[/i]. Not the strongest version nor the most powerful one, but already ideal enough for a thirteen-year-old. Seeing the would almost certainly hit the dummy on the left, the Duke was about to say something, when -

It was all of a sudden, and it was unbelievable. But it was [i]true[/i]. As true as he was named Maximilien René Pascal Jacques Vincent Louis de Fostoncy. The spell split in two and targeted both of the dummies. Both were knocked over, and Maximilien stood there with surprise, wand still raised up in the air. The Duke was just as silent as the boy was, sitting there motionlessly.

[color=#5c5c5c][b]“Nice work, young man.”[/b][/color] the old wizard finally started, nodding approvingly. [color=#5c5c5c][b]“Few wizards can achieve that…only those who are truly talented…”[/b][/color] Lowering his wand and stepping forward to right the knocked-over dummies, Maxi smiled at the old wizard. [color=#586d9d][b]“Thank you, Monsieur le Duc.”[/b][/color] he said softly, while slowly raising his wand up again at the dummies.

He utilized his left days in the Springhall Heights to practice and get tutorials from the Duke - who helped him to learn to control his split spell. Maximilien knew that a grander spell meant a higher chance of failure. So he had to practice hard, like what a true perfectionist would do. Day by day his skills improved. And although backfiring still happened occasionally, he was far more better than what he had done the very first day he when discovered his skill. 

When he packed his things to leave for the Hogwarts Summer Camp on July 31st, it was raining outside. James Kingsleigh, the Duke’s clerk, offered to take him to the York train station, where he could set off for London. Maxi accepted this gratefully, and the two walked together silently in the rain, luggage in hand. James regretted not taking his wand with him, as they would only be able to conjure one umbrella using Maxi’s wand - instead of two, and Maxi shook his head. [color=#586d9d][b]“I believe it’s alright, Mister Kingsleigh.”[/b][/color] he smiled, while reaching for his wand. [color=#586d9d][b]“Pluvia Velo.”[/b][/color] 

James watched the the young French boy conjuring two umbrellas and passing one to him in surprise. However, he remarked nothing. Just a simple, grateful nod, and the two continued their walk in the rain with two umbrellas. No one was going to get wet. The skill was useful - thought Maxi. Indeed.

WC | 798[/size][/reducio][color=transparent]—[/color][b]year 4.[/b] perfectionist II[reducio][size=95]What was exactly [i]obsession[/i]? Maxi was longing to know the answer. He’d looked for it in his grandfather’s library, polled a few classmates for their opinions, and pondered it while wandering through his family’s wine estate. That was, until someone told him that he was prone to obsessions. It was certainly a helpful clue, now all he had to do was look through his hobbies and things that piqued his interest to figure out the answer. 

Lovely ladies? No, that wasn’t supposed to be an obsession. Flowers? Erm, he didn’t do much gardening to be honest. Spellcasting? Perhaps, he’d been practicing diligently and eager to know more about the art of combating magic, but he had already left the duelling team. In terms of extracurricular activities, earlier that year, he had switched from the Beauxbatons duelling team to broom racing. At the beginning he thought it was nothing than a mere impulse, only because racing sounded like the perfect combination of broom and spells, both of which he didn't want to miss. His grandfather was entirely supportive (how honourable for his grandson to be recognised on the track, and just think of the renown and scholarship!), as was his father, though the latter was slightly concerned that his son wouldn't be as dedicated to spellcasting as he had been previously. Maxi reassured Vincent that this would not happen, and he devoted himself into training without wasting any time. He started small, riding and avoiding obstacles and attacks. Day by day he got better, learning from experienced teammates and actively engaging in team practices. And he was certainly achieving things - he could target opponents moving fast on brooms as if they were on their feet, and he could as well ride through the wind and remain unmoved. Maybe that’s just what obsession was.

Oh, and there’s writing. Maxi did not forget about his little interest of writing, whether it was a poem, a fantasy, or a novella. People could dismiss this pastime as whimsical, especially when they come across the nymphs and nightingales written on the parchment, but Maxi adored them. It played a significant part in his life, and he made sure that he could write at least two poems and a short fable every week, no matter how busy he was. When he returned home for summer, Maxi secretly presented his mother his latest work as a gift without letting his grandfather or father know (they wouldn't approve of him writing this because it's “useless”, he knew it). A story about a well-educated young lady who overcame all hurdles with tenacity and pursued her dream career as an artist, despite her family’s opposition. When Mélanie read it, she couldn’t help but shed tears because the protagonist resembled her a lot but ended up realising her drea, unlike her. Impressive, she told her son tenderly, you really have a knack for this, my dearest little Maximilien, and I love it so much. Maxi smiled upon his mother’s comment, feeling that everything was worth it. Nobody knew how hard he had worked on the novella - how many times had he revised it? Seven? Eight? And at least two times were thorough amendments. When he was finally satisfied with his work, he transcribed the whole story in neat handwriting on fresh parchments, which took another three days to finalise. Indeed, he sure had some talent in this and writing the story did offer him much joy, but the effort paid also played a big part in making the whole thing perfect. Maxi never regretted it taking up his free time though, he knew perfecting the present for his mother was all he really wanted. Was that, by any chance, some kind of obsession?

He thought about many things, things that had, no matter briefly or chronically, once occupied his mind. After days meditating on the subject, Maxi thought he could now answer it. To strive for perfection. Maybe that’s what [i]obsession[/i] really meant.

WC | 663[/size][/reducio][/quote]
[quote][center][size=115][b]| extracurricular |[/b][/size]
broom racer[/center][/quote][/quote]

Approved

Stat Edit Form:

Link to Encyclopedia: Here

Stat Changes: +1 to Evasion as reward for Broomrace.

Proof: Here

Code:

Reducio

Code: Select all

[b]Is your character a Broom Racer? [/b]No.
[b]Is your character a Quidditch Player?[/b] No.
[b]Is your character a Duellist?[/b] No.
[b]Stats: [/b]STA - 7 | EVA - 8 | STR - 4 | WIS - 15 | ARC - 10 | ACC - 10
+4 from[url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=9840&start=90#p157988] Quidditch Win[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=17436&p=290856#p290856]Broom Race Win #1[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=366396#p366396]Broom Race Win #2[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=21902&start=60#p461388]Broom Race Win #3[/url]

[b]Abilities: [/b] 
[b]- Comprehend Languages:[/b] As soon as Cassanora was properly introduced to the wizarding world, her mind went to all sorts of subjects. Quickly taking an interest in the history behind magic, she delved into book after book she could find on one subject and the next. For hours on end, her grandparents would find her reading in her bedroom, the couch, at the dining table or even the kitchen counter. The girl would always have her nose stuck in a book. After some time, the girl would find herself getting stuck on cultures and societies within the world of magic. Some books were in strange languages or tried to discuss different tongues that she'd need to hear first in order to get where her book was getting at. Cecil, her grandfather would one day come upstairs to find his eldest grandchild screeching between her teeth and growling all sorts of harsh words at the mirror. At first dismissing her newest speech as pure fantasy, the old man let her be. But in time, he'd grow more and more weary of what the girl was up to and just how much time she wanted to invest in these theatrics. Eventually after explaining their situation to Cassanora's father, they would welcome a visitor. A small rotund man with large moustache and a long oval nose would introduce himself as an old schoolmate of her father. He carefully explained he was part-goblin and was asked to come and teach Cass a few lessons in his ancestors' tongue. Over the course of months the old friend would come and teach the young miss Browne what he could about the Goblin language. Given how the Goblin population was very present in the British wizarding society, Cassanora grew only more convinced these lessons would eventually help her find her place in this strange and curious world. Whenever she found any excuse to visit Diagon Alley with her father, she would ask him to pass by Gringotts. Not to ingratiate herself with the vile money-grabbing dwarfs that resided in there. But rather to try and listen to those few that stood outside and were gossiping in their native tongue. She would try to understand most of what they were conveying and sometimes even interrupt to ask them a question. Many Goblins gave the girl a curious look whenever they got interrupted by a foreign child mid-sentence and then were asked an explanation for their use of words. Over the years, it would grow to be one of Cassanora's funniest pastimes. And slowly some regular visitors of the bank would start to recognise her whenever she would wander about again. There were even a few that would encourage her and offer her assistance had she need for it. Yes, no one really hated [i]"the girl that spoke their tongue"[/i].

[b]- Non-Human Enthusiast: [/b]Cassanora's interests in the different layers of magical society only grew as she learned more and more of the inner workings and intricacies surrounding magic and magic users. As such she eventually reached the subject of those that were counted within the realm of beings but were often shunned by wizard kind throughout history. The young miss Browne quickly drew parallels with the muggle world her family was so used to living in and decided to investigate further on the root of these problems. Therefore, she had to breach the subjects of cultural differences and even the behaviour of these beings. The way their minds worked and how they viewed wizards and witches that were unsympathetic to the cause. She had learned her own mother was affected with lycanthropy when Cass herself was still very young. She had begun suspecting this may have been one of the reasons she left her and her father one day. Werewolves were often barred from living a normal life. In fact, that seemed to be a common trait amongst all of these races. Goblin revolutions were hammered down, centaurs were forced back into the woods, house-elves enslaved, dhampirs forced to hide and werewolves avoided. Who would ever wish such a fate upon anyone? Cassanora's gentle spirit guided her through learning this vast knowledge. She would try to seek for solutions or at the very least make a stand where she thought she would matter. Whenever she would meet any of the discriminated beings, she would approach them and try to befriend them. Trying to make it clear to them that change would be coming and how they would have found a friend in her. Some did not like her interference, others had been scared years before they met her and avoided any social contact in the hopes of staying out of conflict. There were the few who appreciated her spirit and kindness though. And in return they willingly shared their own perspectives with the young girl. From a part-giant boy with weird facial hair that pointed out how he was being watched with argus eyes to a part-veela that would not even look in her general direction, she was met with all sides of the problem. Over time her interests would label her as a non-human enthusiast back in Beauxbatons. Perhaps even their staunchest defender. It was one way Cass would stand out from her peers. If these outcasts wouldn't come up for themselves, she would sure take it upon her to both learn and stand up for their lives.

[b]- Poison Resistance:[/b] Whilst her father might be a healer first and foremost, to many of their surprise, the girl did not take up his passion of those particular arts. Instead, she chose to use the bits of knowledge he did share to advance the one subject she did feel attracted to: Potions. Her father, being an ex-healer, did know his way around the brewing table. It was mandatory to have a certain level of understanding potions and their effects and uses when it came to healing. Cass was not looking to be limited to that field, however. From a young age,  she grew fascinated by the many properties of a plethora of plants and herbs. How different ingredients such as bugs were to be added to the mix in a particular way. Her attention to detail fed into this. It was fascinating and inspiring in and of itself. In the time she spent studying at Beauxbatons, she was of course met with a broader aspect of the subject. The presence of the school's Alchemist Guild was proof of how the French school was proud of their collective knowledge base. It did not take long for Cass to set her mind to one day gaining entry to the prestigious guild. And if she was determined to impress on entry, she'd have to somehow prove her own understanding. In her child's mind, she immediately believed that the meaner the potion, the better the reputation in this case. Though, she quickly had to face defeat in even attempting a first stage of picking up any of those increasingly difficult recipes. So she chose to tackle it differently. Starting at the bottom and slowly working her way up in gaining more understanding of the various dangers potions could bring in both brewing them and applying them. In studying the multitude of poisons and their cures, there did come a point where testing was required. Through a plethora of small experiments, Cass sought out her own limitations and crossing lines. For the more dangerous ones, or when a particularly tricky recipe called for it, she'd make sure she was under direct supervision. Either by a professor, her father or even Nora if she were at home in the recent vacations, she'd try to get the most out of these lessons. In the few years she had been practising, Cassanora was able to boost her own metabolism. Building up a resistance to most common poisons, or at least grow familiar with the more obvious effects when applied to her body. If her knowledge would not be convincing enough in a few years, at least her body would be living proof of her learning curve.

[b]- Impartial: [/b]Whenever her father would breach the topic of whether she had met anyone interesting yet in her life, Cassanora would sigh and let her silence do the talking. Boys, girls, or people in general, … hardly mattered when it came to her time. Time she needed to read, to brew, to analyse. What was a stupid boy's bravado worth against figuring out a quicker process of distillation? Or why would any girl talk with her about their next hunt for a handbag when they could be hunting for toadstools and collect varying samples. The revelations [i]there[/i] could be endless, that new handbag would be replaced next season. 

So her father would be left without a reply, as a reply. If he felt particularly insistent and gathering information, she'd offer a glare or a shrug as an alternative. Depending on what mood she was in, or rather, how important her work was in that moment. The truth of the matter was that there was no interest. She could not help herself rolling her eyes whenever some kid got it in their head to try to draw some attention to themselves. Which would always fold out into a pathetic puppet show of butterflies and heartbreak. Which equated to more time wasted on stupid poetry slung from a balcony in the name of romance. Spoiler alert: the people who tried that, ended up dead. Besides, the vines that engulfed Juliet's balcony were far more interesting than whatever Romeo wrapped his words in. 

She just did not understand. Cassanora tried explaining it to her father before. But he's a man with his head in the clouds more than often. How her father ever managed to be a studious young man was beyond her. He now prefers fiction over rock-hard facts, thus focusing on the little love stories he likes to make up in his chaotic storytelling mind. A loss for the wizarding world, really. There were several wizards and witches she had met who praised his work as a healer back in St. Mungo's. Now all they would focus on was whether he was married by now. If he had found a happy ever after, yuck. Cass did not see it. Though, she felt happy for whoever did. People were allowed to be happy and soar along with the swarms of butterflies in their bellies. But someone would have to come knocking on her door with far more than a pretty face. Meh.

Thank you in advance!

Approved Thank god you linked.

Stat update!
NPC Name: André Alarie
Link: link to NPC page
Year: Fourth Year
Stats:
Current Stats- Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 10 | Strength: 6 | Wisdom: 11 | Arcane Power: 10 | Accuracy: 8
New stats- Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 12 | Strength: 6 | Wisdom: 11 | Arcane Power: 10 | Accuracy: 8
Proof for new stats: Duel Win | Quidditch win
Past wins also: duel win 1 | duel win 2 | duel win 3
Code:

Reducio

Code: Select all

[quote][center][b]Beauxbatons NPC Trunk | First String Chaser | André Alarie[/b][/center][/quote]
[quote][center][b]Stats[/b]
Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 12 | Strength: 6 | Wisdom: 11 | Arcane Power:  10 | Accuracy: 8
=55
fourth years stats with +5 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=16311&start=40#p263918]duel win 1[/url] | [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=18480&start=80#p332858]duel win 2[/url] | [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=19516&start=60#p392629]duel win 3[/url] | [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=20777&start=20#p434303]duel win 4[/url] | [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=21955&start=80#p460013]quidditch win 1[/url] 

[/center][/quote]
[quote][center][b]Abilities[/b]
Perfectionist | 1st year ability | wc: 418
[sub] You have a reduced critical failure chance range by 1.[/sub]
[reducio]André was a perfectionist, he refused to settle for less. He wanted things to be perfect; he wanted things to be in order and neatly and nicely. Like when he made his plans, all detail filled and clearly done by someone logical, but then you'd ask for his backup plans. And he'd lay it out simply, . He had none. His plans were perfected for quite some time each so he had faith they'd work, they had to go perfectly, if they didn't it was an insult to everything he'd ever done so far, everything that went flawless, that was perfectly perfected that there was no way things couldn't go his way, it was an insult to his skills. Every spell he were to ever learn, every potion he were to ever brew, everything he ever did was perfected down to a tea, a simple equation of how it worked and why it did, because if he were to ever need to make use of these things in the future he wanted them to be perfect, his skills for it perfected, and everything.

He took pride in his good grades, and bad.[ If it was on purpose and his own doing] He took pride in his perfect handwriting which he'd told everybody that it 'just came naturally', when in reality he'd spent days perfecting it because he couldn't stand how it looked. If he was ever going to anything it was going to be perfect and he was going to get it right, this didn't mean it had to be right away, it just meant that in dear time in had to be perfect. Like his strategy for chess. It took months to perfect, but in the end it was all worth it, especially because of every bet that were made if he won, it benefited him and was worth all his hard work. Him being the perfectionist he was, was useful, but from time to time he wished he didn't need things to be as perfect, that maybe sometime he could let loose, adding to this the boy also set quite high standards for himself, and got upset every time these standards weren't met, he could make everything perfect and flawless but apparently not himself.

He going to have to learn someday that he was just human, and made mistakes like everyone else, but for now he was going to pretend he was perfect, flawless, and unable to ever make a mistake, like everything else he did.[/reducio]Charmer | 2nd year ability | wc: 485
[sub] -1 accuracy to all of your opponents (as defined at the start of the instance regardless of later betrayal)[/sub]
[reducio]André was good looking, there was no way to deny that. From his hair, to his eyes, and his lips, he was a sight for sore eyes. André honestly didn't see it. He didn't think he was that good looking, but he had to admit he had a way with people, a certain charm, almost like a magnet that attracted them to him.

His manners towards the people he wanted to charm were enough to leave those who'd experienced his wrath left to gawk. I mean, who did he think he was? Getting into fights, ignoring certain authorities, and upsetting foster families so much they had no choice but to send him away. But yet finding a way to charm the socks off[Metaphorically speaking] every girl and guy he met. Surprisingly, there were even moments André found a way to charm himself out of trouble with his teachers at muggle school. He had to admit it, his unique talent... was useful. And very beneficial to the boy. Even his case worker after hearing everything he's ever done had to admit the boy was polite and sweet, even if he was a handful.

When André realized he had this effect on people, his efforts started small. Like the one day seven-year-old André wanted a treat before bed. Now usually his parents weren't one to give treats and sweets to the boy, especially before bed, but that night seemed to be the exception as he turned his charm up to the max. He then used it to his advantage to get friends, and even at times get them to do what he wanted. His 'friends' like many other people in this world, were just stepping stones on his way to get to his actual goal. From friends it then went to the teachers, they all loved him, he was definitely a favorite student among the kids at his muggle school. And then to 'love interests' when the boy turned ten he noticed every so often girls would point his way, they'd whisper to their friends and when he'd confront the girl or sometimes even boy, about it, they'd blush. It left André with a sort of tool or power over them.. one he had to decide how to use..

By the end of his first year at Beauxbatons he made his choice. He would use it to his advantage, since he had no feelings towards any of the people he was doing this too. It only made the most sense. Sometimes he'd flirt with people for that factor, not caring at all how they feel, and sometimes he made sure to know how they'd feel, he'd flirt with the person for a bit, wait till he's being asked out, then reject them in the most harshest way possible, to keep control of the things around him.

It was true, he was a terrible person, but a charmer nonetheless.[/reducio]Healing Sage | 3rd year ability | wc: 503
[sub]+30% healing done with potions and spells.[/sub][reducio]Life had been quiet for André. Coming into his third-year he was beginning to feel settled in at Beauxbatons. Playing into roles and routines, he was getting used to a peaceful life. It was perfect grades than one wrong question on an assignment, always to check his control, over life, himself, and the things around him. It wasn't too long ago when he found out he had certain charm when it came to other people. 

While toppling over people, using them as stepping stones to get to the top, he would find himself in rather unusual sets of circumstances. A problem which needed to be solved and dealt with immediately. You see, he'd grown rather attached to a few of the stepping stones. Andre had always known the dangers of having genuine relationships with people, though he tried to prevent it as best as he could, a few annoying pests were going to slip through the cracks. 

In the past he recognized the problems of genuine relationships as the weakness and vulnerability you have with those people, your more easily influenced by them than others, you'd be more willing to do them favors, at points if they're a mess of a person, they are now your mess of a person to deal with. The list went on. What he had not recognized or taken to account was what happens when the stepping stones get hurt. With genuine connections comes empathy, and feelings other people's pain. One day during class he noticed one of his stepping stones get a paper cut. As much of an overreaction as it may have been, it sent the young man into a downwards spiral. You can lose people, they can effectively get hurt. It hurts when people hurt, and it hurts when you lose them. The stepping stones he was attached too were like leeches, he couldn't get rid of them to solve this problem. His next best solution? 

Studying healing spells and potions. Magic that could save him from this sort of problem. Andre worked tirelessly on it. Filling his weekends, and anytime he had in between school on it. Like each and every one of his new obsessions to master he became hyper-fixated on it. He would not let himself move on with his life until he'd become at least adequate in the art of healing spells and potions. At school he had become a sort of 'underground healer'. Don't want to go to the real healer for whatever reason? Then come to him! Sure his spells and potions were essentially only as good as a first-aid kit, but that's all anybody needed when they came to him anyway. 

Whether you tripped over the root of a tree and scrapped you knee, or perhaps got into a scuffle or two. He offered his free healing services. Despite the fact he had a concerning lack of care for the 'patients' that came in, the set-up worked out well for everyone, Andre got experience, they got... uh... semi-okay medical care.[/reducio]Rapid Reviver | 4th year ability | wc: 422
[sub]Once per thread, you are able to bring back an unconscious person to wakefulness. No roll is required, just physical proximity. They have 1HP. If the user of this ability also has Healing Sage they are able to use this skill twice in a thread.[/sub][reducio]André had gotten better with healing magic. He knew what he was doing. The rumors were true, his 'underground healing' had sort of become a big deal, at least in his own groups and cliques. The rest of the school could have likely cared or less. It wasn't the point. The point was... In the same way some people were good at music, art, or even chess, André had begun to realize he had a certain affinity for healing people. He was good at it. The perfectionist in him was always bothered by the fact he wasn't perfect, but he resolved to remind himself that it took years for muggle doctors, and even healers to learn their skills. While André had taken a step back from learning how to heal people at top priority, it filled his weekdays before and after school. Before Andre knew it, his third year had come to an end and summer started. He was sent home, it was lucky he had a few [i]friends[/i] from school who lived near him. They were the outdoorsy type so he and them spent quite a few of the first days going into summer. They went to the woods and climbed trees. Seeing who could reach the top of the tallest tree.

It couldn't have been more than a few days since summer started, him and his [i]friends[/i] were heading out to the woods once more. They were going to climb to the top of the tallest tree. The same thing they did everyday. André was in the lead, the other were close and a few were struggling to catch up. There had been a storm the other day, lightning, so André should have assumed lightning may have hit a branch or two, and he did. He just thought they would have fallen. Well, a [i]friend[/i] grabbed a lightning hit branch, it looked sturdy but it was a lie and they fell.

Everybody raced back down. André climbed down, checking the kid's injuries from what he could see. Tending what he needed too with what he had on him. And gently shaking him to see if he would get a response and make sure the other was okay. André had no idea what happened that day, all he knew was, one second the kid wasn't responding(unconscious), and then he was(conscious). It could have been luck, or Andre's quick response. He was rather thankful for whatever it was, the kid's mom didn't like him he preferred not to get on her bad side.[/reducio][/center][/quote]

Pending Your total is 55 but you have 2 sporting wins. So y1 = 35, y2 40, y3= 45, y4=50... you also have +2. Please update with your present stat total.

Edited: added past wins as well!