NPC Name: Roberta Martin
Link: Voila
Year: Fourth
Stats: Stamina: 10, Evasion: 15, Strength: 1, Wisdom: 10, Arcane Power: From 6 to 7 due to a quidditch win, Accuracy: 10
Abilities: n/a
Extracurricular: Duellist
Content Changes: n/a
Trunk Coding: Just the +1 from a quidditch win

Pending: Total is 53. Being a 4th year the total is 50. You mention a +1 from a quidditch win but likely have others. We need links for all of your wins to upgrade you. We need papertrails on where all stats came from because there are a lot of games in the site's history at this point. Message me when you updated.

September 26 - Owled about needing edits by October 3rd.

Edits needed: links to all sports wins for trunk.

Edit: Apologies for the lack of trailing here.
1st Win- viewtopic.php?t=18291&start=130#p306207
2nd Win- viewtopic.php?t=19420&start=90#p373363
3rd Win- viewtopic.php?t=21157&start=90#p453812

Approved

NPC Name: Sebastien Batteux
Link: X
Year: Third
Stats: + 5 stats graduation to third year, +2 stats from wins HERE and HERE
+2 strength [8+2=10], +2 wisdom [5+2=7], +2 stamina [8+2=10], +1 evasion [10+1=11]
Abilities: N/A
Extracurricular: broom racer
Trunk Coding:

Reducio

Code: Select all

[quote][center]──────────‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‎  [size=125][b]TRUNK[/b][/size]‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‎  ──────────
[i]character information[/i][/center][/quote]

[quote][i][size=110][b]STATISTICS.[/b][/size][/i]
[quote][center][i]sta.[/i] [size=110][b]10[/b][/size]‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‎  [i]eva.[/i] [size=110][b]11[/b][/size]‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‎  [i]str.[/i] [size=110][b]10[/b][/size]‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‎  [i]wis.[/i] [size=110][b]7[/b][/size]‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‎  [i]arc.[/i] [size=110][b]0[/b][/size]‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‎  [i]acc.[/i] [size=110][b]10[/b][/size][/center] [right][b]=48[/b][/right][/quote][right][b][i]WINS.[/i][/b] [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=184&t=17436&p=290856#p290856]X[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=453812#p453812]X[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=463143#p463143]X[/url][/right][/quote]

[quote][i][size=110][b]ABILITIES.[/b][/size][/i]
[quote][b][i]EVASIVE MANEUVERS.[/i][/b][reducio][b][color=#4080BF]"Ow!"[/color][/b] Sébastien rubbed his head while eyeing up the tennis ball that was rolling away from his body. It stopped after a while and lodged itself into the snow as the boy turned around to see his grandfather laughing at him. It was a wonder why they had decided to play tennis on a early February snow day. Normally, they would be sat inside with a book or two drinking hot chocolate and warming their bodies against the fire they had but they just had to go outside on the coldest day yet. 

The young child crossed his arms while huffing and shaking his head. Then he pulled his gloves off and signed [b][color=#4080BF]"Why did you do that?"[/color][/b] His grandfather shook his shoulders and grinned before picking up another tennis ball and reaching his arm backwards to throw it towards his grandson. Sébastien closed his eyes waiting for the impact but it never came. He stood there for a while just shivering while trying to figure out if he just didn't feel it or his grand-father had a terrible shot.

Slowly, he opened one eye and looked down to see he had moved. Berry did not recall moving and was very confused. He looked up and signed again, [b][color=#4080BF]"Did I move?"[/color][/b] while his grand-father nodded his head wildly and walked over towards the pile of tennis balls they had made. There was around twenty there and another ten scattered around the tennis. Sébastien's grandmother had also been out with them for a while but had gone back inside due to her back problems leaving the boys to play by themselves.

As soon as he saw another ball heading for his head, Sébastien jumped out of the way and ran to the other side of the court. [b][color=#4080BF]"Are you trying to take my head off or something?"[/color][/b] He signed and shook his head before letting out a chuckle. His grandfather did always have a reason behind his methods so  Sébastien did not push on any further and continued to look out for any yellow/green balls of fluff flying his way. 

His grandfather quickly took off his gloves and replied moving his hands at a rapid pace, [b][color=#808040]"I'm preparing you."[/color][/b] He then proceeded to pick up two balls and chucked one in the air before catching it again. [b][color=#4080BF]"What for?"[/color][/b] Sébastien inquired before ducking as one zoomed past him. His grandfather laughed again and picked up his racket. 

[b][color=#4080BF]"What's he doing now? Is he really trying to kill me?"[/color][/b] Sébastien whispered under his breath while shaking his head. It was getting colder by the minute and he was determined to not get hit by his grand-father. If someone was walking past and say him get a tennis ball to the face they for sure would laugh and go tell everyone on the street. What a humiliation that would be! 

John (his grandfather) smiled and threw a ball into the air while swinging the racket with all his might and hit the ball in the direction of Berry. Even with the air resistance slowing the ball down ever so slightly, if it hit Sébastien he knew a bruise would form. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath taking in his surroundings and ran out of the way before the ball clipped his ear. 

[b][color=#808040]"Good lad."[/color][/b] His grandfather signed as he nodded his head and then grabbed the rest of the tennis balls from the floor while beckoning his grandson over. [b][color=#808040]"That's not the last time we will be doing that, Son."[/color][/b] John let out a small laugh and continued, [b][color=#808040]"I want to see you grow up to be someone who can evade attacks. Not be the attacker."[/color][/b]

[b][color=#4080BF]"But why would I need to do that Grandpa?"[/color][/b] Sébastien questioned looking towards the floor. He knew the exact answer to that and did not need to hear the answer as his mind suddenly flew to the instance a few weeks beforehand where a few boys had thought it would be funny to throw rotten food at him. It had really been Sébastien's fault though. He was the one that had insulted a little girl and was the one who went around bragging about stuff. It was just good to be prepared. [b][color=#4080BF]"Never mind, I think we should do it the same time next week."[/color][/b][/reducio]
[b][i]COMPREHEND LANGUAGES - VEELA.[/i][/b]
[reducio]Sébastien had always had a thing about learning. He thought that if knowledge was power than the knowledge of languages could grant him more power than he could ever even imagine. He had already learnt English because it was mandatory to know it however learning Standard Sign-Language for France was something he had done as an extra-curricular activity and he had excelled in it immensely.

That wouldn’t stop him to try and learn another language. Maybe even something that was part of his world. The Wizarding World. It would be a lot of fun to confuse people with his sign-language but imagine all the fun he could have when speaking in a language that hardly anyone knew. It would have to be one that someone would not know from the sound of it.

It couldn’t be Parsletounge as he would only be able to understand what they were saying and not be able to converse back. He had heard Mermish was not pleasant to learn but was defiantly useful underwater. He had even considered Troll, Giant or Gobbledegook. However, none of them fit what he wanted. Sébastien wanted something that sounded pleasing to the ear. Something that could be easy to learn and speak that did not make him bored half way through studying the language.

The only other one he could think of was Veela but that was even risky. To his knowledge, there were more Part-Veela’s emerging out of the ground every day. It was like the Full-Veela’s were trying to get rid of their species. Although, that did sound quite silly as Berry had the thought cross his mind. It would be useless to become extinct. What was the whole reason to do that?

Even though there was the high risk of being snitched on, Sébastien had decided if he wanted to learn a magical language it would have to be Veela. He had set off on a mission that he would no longer come back from until it was complete and finished. Once Berry had his mind set on something there was no power on earth that could stop him other than himself.

The journey was going to be a long one and it wasn’t going to be all on a flat surface either. There was defiantly going to be bumps and lumps along the way. It was just like anything else in life. Anything you want you have to work for. Sébastien knew it would take years to finally become a master at a language he knew nothing about but that wasn’t going to stop him. If he made it to the end that would result in more knowledge and maybe even a chance to pretend he was something he was not.

Leading up to his second year, Berry had studied hard learning the crooks and crannies of Veela. He should have focused more on his studies but had not cared about them in the slightest. The only thing he wanted was to be able to speak in more tongues than some people could imagine. It had nearly taken him 6 years to understand the basics of it all and the only thing he needed to do was constantly use it for the next few months until it was drilled into his brain like a screw.[/reducio][/quote][/quote]

[quote][i][size=110][b]ITEMS.[/b][/size][/i][quote][b][i]silver arrow.[/i][/b] [i]+3 to all stats[/i][/quote][/quote]

[quote][i][size=110][b]EXTRACURRICULAR.[/b][/size][/i][quote][b][i]broom racer.[/i][/b] [/quote][/quote][/reducio][/quote]

[center][COLOR=#9c7749]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#997447]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#957246]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#926f44]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#8e6d43]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#8b6a41]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#87673f]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#84653e]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#81623c]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#7d5f3b]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#7a5d39]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#765a37]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#735836]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#6f5534]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#6c5233]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#695031]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#654d2f]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#624b2e]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#5e482c]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#5b452b]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#574329]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#544027]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#513d26]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#4d3b24]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#4a3822]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#463621]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#43331f]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#3f301e]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#3c2e1c]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#392b1a]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#352919]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#322617]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#2e2316]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#2b2114]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#271e12]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#241b11]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#21190f]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#1d160e]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#1a140c]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#16110a]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#130e09]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#0f0c07]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#0c0906]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#090704]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#050402]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#020101]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#020101]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#050402]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#090704]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#0c0906]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#0f0c07]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#130e09]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#16110a]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#1a140c]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#1d160e]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#21190f]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#241b11]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#271e12]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#2b2114]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#2e2316]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#322617]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#352919]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#392b1a]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#3c2e1c]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#3f301e]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#43331f]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#463621]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#4a3822]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#4d3b24]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#513d26]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#544027]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#574329]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#5b452b]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#5e482c]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#624b2e]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#654d2f]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#695031]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#6c5233]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#6f5534]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#735836]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#765a37]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#7a5d39]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#7d5f3b]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#81623c]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#84653e]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#87673f]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#8b6a41]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#8e6d43]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#926f44]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#957246]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#997447]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#9c7749]ᚐ[/COLOR]
[size=150][COLOR=#9c7749]S[/COLOR][COLOR=#916f44]t[/COLOR][COLOR=#86663f]a[/COLOR][COLOR=#7b5e39]t[/COLOR][COLOR=#6f5534]s[/COLOR] [COLOR=#644d2f]&[/COLOR] [COLOR=#59442a]A[/COLOR][COLOR=#4e3c25]b[/COLOR][COLOR=#43331f]i[/COLOR][COLOR=#382b1a]l[/COLOR][COLOR=#2d2215]i[/COLOR][COLOR=#211a10]t[/COLOR][COLOR=#16110a]i[/COLOR][COLOR=#0b0905]e[/COLOR][COLOR=#000000]s[/COLOR][/size]

ꕤ

[b]Sta[/b] 7 [COLOR=#5e472c]ᚐ[/COLOR] [b]Eva[/b] 15 [COLOR=#5e472c]ᚐ[/COLOR] [b]Str[/b] 12 [COLOR=#5e472c]ᚐ[/COLOR] [b]Wis[/b] 5 [COLOR=#5e472c]ᚐ[/COLOR] [b]Arc[/b] 0 [COLOR=#5e472c]ᚐ[/COLOR] [b]Acc[/b] 15
[size=90][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=16&t=15247&p=243862#p243862]x[/url] [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=371279#p371279]x[/url] [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=427470#p427470]x[/url] [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=463143#p463143]x[/url][/size]

The Muggle Condition [COLOR=#5e472c]ᚐ[/COLOR] Fearless [COLOR=#5e472c]ᚐ[/COLOR] Evasive Maneuvers I + II
[COLOR=#9c7749]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#997447]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#957246]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#926f44]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#8e6d43]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#8b6a41]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#87673f]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#84653e]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#81623c]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#7d5f3b]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#7a5d39]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#765a37]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#735836]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#6f5534]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#6c5233]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#695031]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#654d2f]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#624b2e]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#5e482c]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#5b452b]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#574329]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#544027]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#513d26]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#4d3b24]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#4a3822]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#463621]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#43331f]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#3f301e]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#3c2e1c]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#392b1a]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#352919]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#322617]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#2e2316]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#2b2114]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#271e12]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#241b11]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#21190f]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#1d160e]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#1a140c]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#16110a]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#130e09]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#0f0c07]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#0c0906]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#090704]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#050402]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#020101]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#020101]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#050402]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#090704]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#0c0906]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#0f0c07]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#130e09]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#16110a]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#1a140c]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#1d160e]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#21190f]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#241b11]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#271e12]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#2b2114]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#2e2316]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#322617]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#352919]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#392b1a]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#3c2e1c]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#3f301e]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#43331f]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#463621]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#4a3822]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#4d3b24]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#513d26]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#544027]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#574329]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#5b452b]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#5e482c]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#624b2e]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#654d2f]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#695031]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#6c5233]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#6f5534]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#735836]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#765a37]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#7a5d39]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#7d5f3b]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#81623c]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#84653e]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#87673f]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#8b6a41]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#8e6d43]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#926f44]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#957246]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#997447]ᚐ[/COLOR][COLOR=#9c7749]ᚐ[/COLOR]
Broomracer[/center]


The Muggle Condition [size=75][412 words][/size]
[reducio]Growing up, Raphael hadn't cared about many things. 

School was boring, it was hard to focus on learning dry things from books while locked into a room with twenty-five other kids and a bunch of stale air. More often than not, his gaze strayed from the numbers on the page in front of him to the window and the blue sky beyond. If only they'd let him [i]move[/i].

People were boring, with their endless drama and demands, asking of him things he didn't want to do, hadn't cared to do. The squabbling of other kids over whose pen this was, who got to sit next to who, who was invited to which birthday. Raphael usually didn't want to go. They were boring.

What he did care about, though, were sports. Any kind of sports was good - PE classes at his school saw him excelling in athletics, although he preferred ball sports - but from the moment his father took him to a local club's match, Raphael's true love proved to be football [size=75](the British football, not the American kind)[/size]. The football field was where you could see his usually impassive expression change for one of excitement, where you would see him passionately chase after a ball - where he felt like himself. There were evenings spent on goal practice alone, satisfaction rushing through him when he managed to aim the ball in the exact corner he wanted, a smile on his face that was rarely seen. The football field was where Raphael was most at home.

It was where his father would find him at 8 pm when the sun went down and he'd missed supper, and where he would have gone in the mornings if not for that pesky thing called school. (He'd tried. His father hadn't been pleased.) An avid fan of Liverpool F.C, Raphael was already dreaming of his career as a professional player... until that invitation to [i]l'Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons[/i] came and threw a wrench into his plans. No football there, no sir, just more time spent sitting in classrooms, trying to do things he wasn't good at, the magic he was supposed to learn failing more often than it should and not powerful even when it obeyed.

At least they had other sports, and all that time spent ducking between two opponent players trying to steal the ball from him, or burying the ball into the net, paid off there, too. Still... it wasn't the same.
[/reducio][center]ꕤ[/center]Fearless [size=75][403 words][/size]
[reducio]Growing up, Raphael hadn't cared about many things. 

He hadn't had to. Born into a storybook family - father, mother, him, and a little sister five years later. Wealthy enough to not lack anything he might want, talented enough to slip through the first few years of school without getting into trouble for his lack of investment. Life had been easy, free of worries, things that broke were easily replaced. For the first few years of his life, Raphael had been as carefree as a butterfly, chasing after things that were colourful and interesting, never worrying about falling for he could fly.

It didn't hold though, few things as happy do. After his mother left when he was a boy, something changed. What had been simple [i]carelessness[/i] grew into something more. Where things hadn't fazed him before, now they didn't interest him. Unconcern turned into apathy. You might expect that his mother leaving when he was young, but not so young as not to realise the implications, might have left Raphael with a fear of separation, a constant worry that his father, his sister, his friends would leave, too. That things that broke would be gone for good. For Raphael, it did the opposite.

It had taken a while for his father to notice, longer than it should have, perhaps, but when he did, he grew concerned. He could not remember the last time Raphael had come to him with something that excited him, worried him, much less frightened him. This was an eight year old boy who didn't fear the dark or needles at the doctor, did not flinch from dogs, stared down a fifty metre drop without blinking. He got rid of spiders by himself, mostly because his sister asked him to, was not intimidated by teachers, and showed no sense of self-preservation when facing fire. It was worrying for more reasons than one.

People often use the word "fearlessness" to describe "bravery", but in truth, the two are very different. Fear is something natural, something healthy, often, that keeps us alive. Warns us to stay away from things that might hurt us. Bravery is conquering those fears when they are unwarranted, or when there is a reason that defies self-preservation. Fearlessness, on the other hand, means that there was no fear to begin with, and it is not usually something that should be pursued. 

Raphael was not brave. Raphael was fearless.[/reducio][center]ꕤ[/center]Evasive Maneuvers [size=75][437 words][/size]
[reducio]Growing up, Raphael hadn't cared about many things. 

Sports and his sister, those ranked at the top. His friends and father were somewhere up there, too. That was mostly it. So when Raphael had started attending Beauxbatons, three of those four things had suddenly been out of reach. Not completely, of course. He could send his family letters, and could have asked them to deliver messages to his friends, too, although he could not explain why he had suddenly left to attend a fancy boarding school. Or where that school was, or what it was called. Really, most of his friendships didn't hold for very long after that.

He still kind of kept up with his favourite sports teams via a radio that was somehow enchanted to function around magic, and could thankfully be set to receive Muggle radio channels as well. As for playing, Raphael threw himself into the sports that Beauxbatons had to offer. Duelling relied too much on magic, and not enough on physical activity, but broom sports, those were fun. (Not as good as football, but who could ask for that?)

And so, rather than spending his free time on football fields, Raphael started spending his free time on brooms. Dodging bludgers. Dodging obstacles. Dodging other players trying to crash into him. Dodging spells aimed at him. Dodging magical beasts that were added to the broom racing courses because apparently, in the magical world, no sport was complete without the very high risk of serious injury. Not that football players did not get injured frequently, but at least the rules tried to prevent rather than encourage this.

There was a learning curve to it, of course. You didn't just sit on a broom for the first time and magically have perfect control. Well, unless you were Harry Potter, maybe. But Raphael did have a knack for sports, and the determination to make up for his lack of experience. More of the latter than the former, if you asked him.

He supposed you couldn't really spend that much time playing wizard sports without at some point developing reflexes that were borderline supernatural. It was hard to explain, really, what set off his instincts. The whistling of a ball coming closer at a speed that threatened to break bones, the odd draft of air, the sounds of a mumbled incantation, sometimes just the feeling of hair standing up at the back of his neck, an inexplicable sensation telling him that [i]something[/i] was coming, and Raphael moved to evade, in a swerve or a loop, dropping a few feet or rising up to dodge what was coming.[/reducio][center]ꕤ[/center]Evasive Maneuvers II [size=75][439 words][/size]
[reducio]Three years after Raphael had started attending the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, he still felt kind of bitter about it. More than bitter... cheated, that was probably the right word. Forced into a world where he constantly felt out of place, worse than he had before.

He had never been good at making friends, and with the loss of all his known relationships, his approach had changed more towards… actively avoiding. It had not seemed worth putting in the energy, the thought was exhausting. Hence, more than ever, Raph had started spending his time focused on sports. Broom racing, Quidditch, those thankfully did not require magic, and soon enough Raphael spent more of his waking time on a broom than on solid ground. Last summer, for lack of alternatives, he had picked up running as a sport he could do both at home and at school, and it had quickly turned into a habit. 

That had come with an unexpected side-effect of social relationships… kind of sneaking up on him. He would not call them friends, exactly, more slightly less annoying acquaintances, maybe. That he enjoyed doing sports with, and did not mind hanging out with generally. But no, definitely not friends. 

After all, he obviously only spent time with them because there was a tangible benefit. It was hard to play football by himself, and only dodging trees by himself, without competition, and without unexpected attacks coming from the side, got too easy after a while. Clearly, training himself to dodge incoming balls quicker, more effortlessly, more instinctively, was the only reason he kept asking Cassie to play with him, and that during one of their many morning runs, he had finally also asked Ye-jun if he was interested in playing some football every now and then. 

It was not wrong, of course. Training with Cassie, playing with Ye-jun, it sharpened his reflexes. More than once, a small smile snuck onto Raph’s face when Cassie exclaimed in surprise after he had shifted his broom to the right just enough to escape an incoming projectile that he could not possibly have seen coming. It even evolved into a game of Cassie randomly throwing things at him, trying to catch him off-guard… with a surprisingly low quota of success. The intended effect was definitely there. Yet, if he was honest, the more time passed, the more the (very effective) training became an excuse, to see Cassie, to hang out with Ye-jun. 

Well. No matter the reasons, excuses or not, by the end of his third year at Beauxbatons, Raphael had uncanny dodging abilities… and possibly even a friend or two.

[right][size=75]Mentions of Lee Ye-jun and Cassie Heather McGregor-Martin approved by [mention]Eun-ji Lee Hunt[/mention] and [mention]Lucia Fox[/mention].[/size][/right][/reducio]

Approved

Stats update
NPC Name: Ye-jun Lee
Link: Encyclopedia
Year: Fourth Year
Stats:
Current stats: Sta 8, Eva 9, Str 10, Wis 9, Arc 7, Acc 8
New stats Sta 9, Eva 9, Str 10, Wis 9, Arc 7, Acc 8
Proof: 2nd Duel Win

Approved

6: Rebound

Reducio

Milo had now been playing quidditch for as long as he could remember through one form or another, whether it just be flying around the garden (of course with protective charms around it so nobody could see him). until today, where he just was a part of a winning team tied with mahoutokoro, ignoring the fact he almost got knocked off his broom at one point, he felt played a significant part in their securing the win. Whether or not he actually mattered as much as he thought he did was a different matter, but his ego would certainly tell him he basically caused the win.

That almost knock off his broom though taught him something, his reflexes needed to get better and fast.

He spun around the Beauxbatons quidditch pitch for a few laps, trying to get his speed up. Once he had done about 5 laps, one of his pals knocked a ball that was meant to simulate a bludger in his direction.

This friend of Milos was a good shot, the 'bludger' heading straight for where Milo would be if he continued on the round course he was taking. Milo could see it coming though, instinctively lifting up a bit higher to miss it. This ball wasn't made of iron like classic bludgers though, so if it did hit him, worst it would do was leave a nasty bruise. As it flew under him he saw it go through and hit the stands, but just being a regular ball, bounced off of them and landed on the ground.

A few more tries at this same thing, Milo would fly, sometimes in straight lines, sometimes a bit more erratic, trying his best to simulate what he would be doing in a fake match. Almost every time he managed to fly out of the way of the ball, except for a couple times... One time it hit his ankle, that certainly made him rethink this entire venture, that hurt quite a bit, he would be limping to dinner later on. Another time it hit the side of his arm as he had tried to duck under it.

As he was a beater, he had his bat on him, just for realism, he didn't expect to actually use it. This was until his friend pulled a sneaky move. He actually aimed it for just above where Milo was going to be, knowing he had a tendency to dodge upwards rather than other directions. It just slightly missed him, but he lifted his bat up a bit and knocked it back towards his friend. He hadn't even really thought about it, he just did it. He stopped dead in his tracks and watched the ball hit his friend flat in the chest, knocking him over. Even though this ball wasn't made of solid iron, it still was enough to wind him. "Désolé!"Sorry! He shouted down to his friend.

He joined him on the ground to have a chat, and they decided that actually he should probably practice that reflex a bit more, it could change a game around. So they continued their practice, and about 10% of the time when he dodged the ball, he was able to automatically launch it back at his friend.

Milo would have to practice this some with a real bludger, but he had the idea down and next time he was in a quidditch match, he certainly tested it out.

Word Count: 575

[quote][b]6: Rebound[/b]
[reducio]Milo had now been playing quidditch for as long as he could remember through one form or another, whether it just be flying around the garden (of course with protective charms around it so nobody could see him). until today, where he just was a part of a winning team tied with mahoutokoro, ignoring the fact he almost got knocked off his broom at one point, he felt played a significant part in their securing the win. Whether or not he actually mattered as much as he thought he did was a different matter, but his ego would certainly tell him he basically caused the win. 

That almost knock off his broom though taught him something, his reflexes needed to get better and fast. 

He spun around the Beauxbatons quidditch pitch for a few laps, trying to get his speed up. Once he had done about 5 laps, one of his pals knocked a ball that was meant to simulate a bludger in his direction. 

This friend of Milos was a good shot, the 'bludger' heading straight for where Milo would be if he continued on the round course he was taking. Milo could see it coming though, instinctively lifting up a bit higher to miss it. This ball wasn't made of iron like classic bludgers though, so if it did hit him, worst it would do was leave a nasty bruise. As it flew under him he saw it go through and hit the stands, but just being a regular ball, bounced off of them and landed on the ground. 

A few more tries at this same thing, Milo would fly, sometimes in straight lines, sometimes a bit more erratic, trying his best to simulate what he would be doing in a fake match. Almost every time he managed to fly out of the way of the ball, except for a couple times... One time it hit his ankle, that certainly made him rethink this entire venture, that hurt quite a bit, he would be limping to dinner later on. Another time it hit the side of his arm as he had tried to duck under it. 

As he was a beater, he had his bat on him, just for realism, he didn't expect to actually use it. This was until his friend pulled a sneaky move. He actually aimed it for just above where Milo was going to be, knowing he had a tendency to dodge upwards rather than other directions. It just slightly missed him, but he lifted his bat up a bit and knocked it back towards his friend. He hadn't even really thought about it, he just did it. He stopped dead in his tracks and watched the ball hit his friend flat in the chest, knocking him over. Even though this ball wasn't made of solid iron, it still was enough to wind him. [b]"Désolé!"[/b][revelio]Sorry![/revelio] He shouted down to his friend. 

He joined him on the ground to have a chat, and they decided that actually he should probably practice that reflex a bit more, it could change a game around. So they continued their practice, and about 10% of the time when he dodged the ball, he was able to automatically launch it back at his friend.

Milo would have to practice this some with a real bludger, but he had the idea down and next time he was in a quidditch match, he certainly tested it out.[/reducio]
Word Count: 575[/quote]

PENDING September 26 - Owled that we need edits by October 3rd.

Needed edits: Your stats are currently adding to 71. A sixth-year normally has 60, and with the 6 sports wins (the 3 currently in your trunk and the 3 you're adding now) you are claiming, it would be 66.

We need you to link all of your character's sport wins so we can add them to the trunk code for papertrail going forward. This will also help us find the source of this inconsistent stat total.

Name: Cassie Heather McGregor-Martin
Ency link: viewtopic.php?f=314&t=16976&p=269482#p269482
Year: Fourth
Stat changes: +1 to evasion (broom-racing win). Total is 53 (broom racing win, 2 duelling wins - 1, 2)
Abilities: Year 4 - Impartial - 498 words

Reducio

Whenever Cassie met people who went to a wizarding school other than Beauxbatons, she noticed that they all seemed to share the same misconceptions about her school. Beauxbatons was painted as a school for the elite, where every student was graceful, pretty, and polite. That wasn't true! Or was it? Because, as much as Cassie didn't want to admit it, there were a lot of pretty people at Beauxbatons. Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe it was because of the reputation the school had accidentally built up. Maybe it was because Beauxbatons students were encouraged to take pride in their appearance and none of the other schools really cared that much.

Either way, Cassie enjoyed subverting people's expectations. She herself was entirely average in the looks department, and - just as she was told to do - took pride in that. Makeup was itchy so she never wore it. Skirts were impractical so she never wore them. In fact, Cassie's fashion sense only went as far as finding the funniest thing written on a t-shirt and wearing the same pair of jeans multiple days in a row.

It was probably because of this lack of care over her own looks that Cassie found it difficult to categorise other people's. Of course, there were some people who fell squarely into the categories of either beautiful or ugly. A vague standard of prettiness was something that everyone learnt as a child - it was engraved into you as you grew up that some people were pretty, and some people were not. But most people, in Cassie's experience, lay in between. And even for those who fit into their boxes, that didn't mean anything to Cassie. Why should a person's appearance change your perception of them, when it's what's on the inside that matters?

Love was another thing that Cassie found confusing. She had friends who crushed on celebrities, or on people who they'd seen in the corridor but never spoken to. Cassie, though, didn't understand how you could just look at someone and decide that they were 'hot', and see them as a possible romantic partner. It was all a bit silly. How did facial symmetry and a particular type of hair make a person desirable? Sometimes, Cassie would find herself stuck on the outside while her friends had conversations about the people they crushed on, or how hot the new kid was. She didn't entirely mind this - after all, she was clearly correct in not judging people by appearances - but sometimes ended up wondering why it happened. Was crushing as much of a big deal as some people made it out to be? Did your appearance really matter? What-

But then she would force herself to stop. There was no point going down a rabbit hole of trying to work out the reasons behind her classmates' actions. Maybe people could be pretty, but they were never attractive to Cassie. She was just impartial to all that nonsense.

Extracurricular: Broom racer
Content changes: n/a
Trunk coding:

Reducio

Code: Select all

[quote][table][tr][td][table][tr][td][quote][img]/images/upload/bdhw9t.webp[/img][/quote][/td][td][quote][img]/images/upload/6pa6vw.webp[/img][/quote][/td][/tr][tr][td][quote][img]/images/upload/0ujts7.webp[/img][/quote][/td][td][quote][img]/images/upload/3aj26s.webp[/img][/quote][/td][/tr][/table][/td][td][quote][img]/images/upload/bcb8rn.webp[/img][/quote][/td][/tr][/table][quote][center][size=90]Stamina | 10
Evasion | 11
Strength | 10
Wisdom | 7
Arcane Power | 4
Accuracy | 11
Total | 53 [/size][/center][/quote][table][tr][td][reducio][center][b]Year One: Sixth Sense[/b][/center][size=90]Cassie McGregor-Martin had always had a sort of sense for things.
This came in useful many times as a youngster - whether to run away when she heard an adult's soft footsteps about to catch her in some act of wrongdoing, or to realise at the last minute that a much-needed prop was absent from the stage during a play - and seemed to carry on into what she proudly named [I]'the years of double digits'[/I].
Perhaps the most prominent, revealing, and - dare I say it - [I]interesting[/I] of the times when Cassie seemed to notice something out of the ordinary was at school in Beauxbatons, at the age of twelve.
She was talking to one of her friends after both going home for the winter holidays - [I]les vacances d’hiver[/i], as it is in French - and the two had a perfectly normal conversation about what Cassie's holiday had been like. Cassie noticed that her friend did not share any details of her own weeks, but did not comment on it until she noticed that the other girl was not wearing a necklace which Cassie knew she never usually took off. It had been a family heirloom which the girl had been very proud of, and when Cassie questioned her over its absence her flash of insight was rewarded - her friend had fought with her parents over returning to school, and had been keeping it a secret. Without Cassie's [I]sixth sense[/I], it was unlikely the poor girl would ever have shared the burden of guilt she carried.
Cassie has never been particularly sure when it was that she started noticing things. An organiser by nature, she has been able to tell when something is missing ever since she was too young to remember - from the moment she cried for the teddy she didn't know had fallen out her cot at the tender age of one.
Though many might call the [I]'niggling feeling'[/I] in the back of Cassie's mind whenever she is sure something is wrong a [I]'nervous habit'[/I], or simply say that she is [I]'being overly anxious'[/I], Cassie is certain that she can trust the feeling to tell her when there is something out of place or even missing entirely.
She seems to be right as well - after all, her [I]'niggling feeling'[/I] - or, as some may call it, [I]sixth sense[/I] - has never failed her yet.[/size][/reducio][/td][td][reducio][center][b]Year Two: Fearless[/b][/center][size=90]Cassie Heather McGregor-Martin is, it may be said, [i]fearless[/i].
Of course, that is not really true - everyone has fears, and Cassie Heather would be the first to admit her own - but the young population of Paris seem to share a romantic streak, and bravery can often be mistranslated into fearlessness, whether as a result of jealousy, admiration, or even simple loyalty.
Cassie has always had those things she has been afraid of - desease, rejection and loneliness to name a few - but she also possesses the rare ability to contain these fears, and even face them head on if the need arises.
This courage is one of her biggest and most noticable personality traits, and enables her to do most of the things she enjoys, and a few that she does not. In fact, one of the first things you might notice upon meeting the only child of Pierre and Harriet is her outgoing personality: how she doesn't let the world stop her, no matter what. [i]People can do what they like[/i], Cassie often says, [i]but so can I[/i]. This rather Gryffindor like world view mostly stems from her courage - and apparent fearlessness - which enables her to do just about anything and everything, from walking up to a random stranger and complimenting them on their new hat, to climbing on a broom and flying a course she has never seen before at a hundred miles an hour.
Perhaps the most notable of times when she swallowed fear and gained the lable of 'fearless' was the first time she ever tried broomracing.
Cassie Heather had seen from the moment she got onto a broom that she had a knack for flying, even on the rusty school brooms she had to deal with until her parents finally decided she could buy one, but when suddenly faced with obsticals the likes of which she had never seen before, she knew she had to try. The race that ensued was perhaps the most dangerous she has ever taken part in, to this day. All the first years were desperate to prove their worth as a broom racer, and it was a test of not just her sportsmanship but her courage as well. There were plenty of times during that race when she had the opertunity to give up, but Cassie Heather McGregor-Martin just couldn't. The blood was up, and she had gained a sense of adventure that would compell her to take the craziest risks, the strangest dares, the most impossible trials. This sense of adventure, and thrill of taking risks, she would never loose.[/size][/reducio][/td][td][reducio][center][b]Year Three: The Muggle Condition[/b][/center][size=90]Cassie Heather McGregor-Martin was a muggle-born. Although it was hard to tell most people's blood statuses just from looking at them - unless they were haughty purebloods, it wasn't something people usually told others at first meeting - but it would only take a few conversations with Cassie for another to at least have the suspicion. Whether it was her constant grumbles about learning some 'stupid' spells ([b][color=#72267E]"When am I [I]ever[/I] going to need to turn a flowerpot into a bird in [I]real life[/I]?!"[/color][/b]), her undisguised amazement whenever she encountered something magical she'd never seen before ([b][color=#72267E]"Hold up! You mean [I]dragons[/I] actually [I]exist[/I]?!"[/color][/b]), or simply her confused expression when someone dropped a word she'd never heard before into a conversation ([b][color=#72267E]"Sorry, what? What's a [I]'bowtruckle'[/I]?"[/color][/b]), everyone would understand sooner or later. Cassie didn't mind. In fact, Cassie Heather was quite proud of her heritage. She was proud of her parents, and she liked being different. It was annoying, sometimes, sure - like when she had to pay extra attention to some lessons because she was missing information that wizarding-born children would have - but she was proud.

Cassie Heather had only been at Beauxbatons for a few weeks when an older student laughed at her failed (and quite pathetic, really) attempt at a charm, calling her a [I]'mudblood'[/I]. This word was new to her, and when Cassie enquired as to its meaning (with flushed cheeks, as she was sure from the tone that it wasn't anything good), she was told mockingly that it was [I]'a word to describe people like you, who don't deserve what they've been given'[/I]. This explanation did not bode well for Cassie, so she next asked one of her friends what the word meant. Needless to say, she received a fuller and more sympathetic definition this time. The next day, she decided that revenge was necessary. She took a Muggle pen, poked a hole in it with the sharp end of her (also Muggle) compass, and dropped it into the older student's bag. The ink leaked everywhere and covered all of his school books, completely drenching them with black. Although the student could never prove it, he knew it was Cassie, and never called her a 'mudblood' again.

After that incident, Cassie decided two things.

Firstly, that the word 'mudblood' would no longer be an insult to her. She would take it just as she would take any other meaningless comment on her appearance or possessions - with indifference and the knowledge that whoever spoke it was not worth her time. There were just three things which Cassie Heather McGregor-Martin could not stand being insulted about, and her blood status would not be one of them. She would stand strong, just as he parents always told her to.

Secondly, Cassie made up her mind to be as 'obviously muggleborn' as she could be. Her 'skill' with just about any spell or charm other than counter-spells was essentially non-existant (or, at least, that was how Cassie viewed it: a 'spell' only ever seemed to work for her when she did it accidentally) and she vowed to rely on her magical power as little as she could. After all, she'd managed it for this long, hadn't she? She signed up for broomracing and then quidditch, both of which were games of physical and mental prowess rather than magical. She used a pen instead of a quill whenever she could get away with it. Once, she even asked her parents to send her an old travel CD player so that she and her friends could take it apart and she could show them what a 'battery' was.

All this, just to be different. Cassie Heather sure had a long journey ahead of her if she was going to make her idea of 'different' acceptable in everyone else's eyes.[/size][/reducio][/td][/tr][/table]
[reducio][b]Year 4 - Impartial - 498 words[/b]

Whenever Cassie met people who went to a wizarding school other than Beauxbatons, she noticed that they all seemed to share the same misconceptions about her school. Beauxbatons was painted as a school for the elite, where every student was graceful, pretty, and polite. That wasn't true! Or was it? Because, as much as Cassie didn't want to admit it, there [I]were[/I] a lot of pretty people at Beauxbatons. Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe it was because of the reputation the school had accidentally built up. Maybe it was because Beauxbatons students were encouraged to take pride in their appearance and none of the other schools really cared that much.

Either way, Cassie enjoyed subverting people's expectations. She herself was entirely average in the looks department, and - just as she was told to do - took pride in that. Makeup was itchy so she never wore it. Skirts were impractical so she never wore them. In fact, Cassie's fashion sense only went as far as finding the funniest thing written on a t-shirt and wearing the same pair of jeans multiple days in a row.

It was probably because of this lack of care over her own looks that Cassie found it difficult to categorise other people's. Of course, there were some people who fell squarely into the categories of either [I]beautiful[/I] or [I]ugly[/I]. A vague standard of prettiness was something that everyone learnt as a child - it was engraved into you as you grew up that some people were pretty, and some people were not. But most people, in Cassie's experience, lay in between. And even for those who fit into their boxes, that didn't mean anything to Cassie. Why should a person's appearance change your perception of them, when it's what's on the inside that matters?

Love was another thing that Cassie found confusing. She had friends who crushed on celebrities, or on people who they'd seen in the corridor but never spoken to. Cassie, though, didn't understand how you could just look at someone and decide that they were 'hot', and see them as a possible romantic partner. It was all a bit silly. How did facial symmetry and a particular type of hair make a person desirable? Sometimes, Cassie would find herself stuck on the outside while her friends had conversations about the people they crushed on, or how hot the new kid was. She didn't entirely mind this - after all, she was clearly correct in not judging people by appearances - but sometimes ended up wondering why it happened. Was crushing as much of a big deal as some people made it out to be? Did your appearance really matter? What-

But then she would force herself to stop. There was no point going down a rabbit hole of trying to work out the reasons behind her classmates' actions. Maybe people could be pretty, but they were never attractive to Cassie. She was just impartial to all that nonsense.[/reducio][quote][center][size=90]Sport | Broom Racing[/size][/center][/quote][/quote]

NPC Name: Vivienne Beaumont
Link: x
Year: Second
Stats: Old: Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 6 | Arcane Power: 5 | Accuracy: 7
New: Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 8 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 6 | Arcane Power: 5 | Accuracy: 7
+1 from broom racing win
Abilities: N/A
Extracurricular: Broom Racer
Content Changes: N/A
Trunk Coding:

Code: Select all

[quote][center][quote][b]Broom Racer?[/b] YES [color=transparent]-------[/color] [b]Quidditch Player?[/b] NO [color=transparent]-------[/color]     [b]Duelist?[/b] NO[/quote][/center]
[quote][center][b]STATISTICS[/b]

Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 8 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 6 | Arcane Power: 5 | Accuracy: 7
[size=75]+1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=484258#p484258]broom racing win[/url][/size][/center][/quote]
[quote][center][b]ABILITIES[/b]

Year 1: Fearless
[reducio]Vivienne Beaumont did not seem to be afraid of anything. She was adventurous to a fault, and being adventurous always usually comes with being reckless. She loves the adrenaline rush she gets when she tries something new and slightly scary. The drop in your stomach, the scream that gets caught in your throat, Vivienne loved it all. 

The day her parents realized their daughter was practically fearless was the day the family had decided to go bungee jumping when they were in vacation in Australia the summer Vivienne was 10. Louis had outright refused to do it, claiming that he was 'too amazing to die' and 'had so many more comics to read'. He would climb up a tree, but not bungee jump, which Vivienne did not really understand (even though they were on two different levels of risk taking). [b]"I want to do it! Oh can I do it upside down? [i]Pleaseeeeeeeeee![/i] I really want to go upside down! It'll be really fun!"[/b] She pleaded, jumping up and down in front of her mother who was looking at her in shock.

[b]"Now Vivi, sweetie, are you sure you want to do it upside down? That will be very scary."[/b] Her mother said her words slowly, as if coaxing a wild animal, practically pleading her daughter to not do something so terrifying and silly. Yet Vivienne insisted, and she went bungee jumping upside down. Her parents had expected her to be shaking in fear after it, but instead she was smiling possibly the brightest smile they had ever seen.

[b]"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh that was so fun! I want to do it again! Can I do it again? That was AMAZING!"[/b] It was safe to say, she had likely given her mother 20 heart attacks that day.

Then there was the day that she went swimming with sharks. That's a slight exaggeration, as it wasn't actually in the ocean and was instead at an aquarium her school had went to for a school trip. There was an option to dive with sharks, and most of her classmates outright refused. But of course, Vivienne was at the very front of the line, begging to be able to go first. Who wouldn't want to swim with sharks? That sounded awesome to Vivienne, and she really didn't understand why her classmates didn't want to do it. The girl loved it, and it was one of the best experiences of her life.

So, it was safe to say that Vivienne was nearly fearless. Of course she still had some tiny fears, especially spiders. They were a big no. But adrenaline causing or risky things that many others would find terrifying? A piece of cake for Vivienne. Rollercoasters? One of her favorite things. The adrenaline rush she got when doing something risky would never get old to Vivienne. 

[b]Word Count:[/b] 470/400[/reducio]

Year 2: Calming Presence
[reducio]Vivienne came to realize that people usually felt quite relaxed and calm in her presence. It was quite unusual, but she didn't mind it. In fact, she was almost glad. If someone was crying, hurt or upset, she would just have to sit down beside them and offer some words of encouragement and they would visibly appear instantly better. She had supposed she just had a real knack for cheering people up. It was the most logical explanation, as she was always smiling, happy and always tried to find the best in everything and everyone. Truthfully, Vivienne was the sun if it was a person.

It became clear one day whenever Vivi and her younger brother, Louis, were playing out on the beach together. They were playing a classic game of tag, but Louis had ended up tripping and cutting his knee on a rock in the sand. Vivienne whirled around at the sound of her brother's cry to find him sat on the sand cradling his knee, tears welling up in his eyes. [b]"Louis!"[/b] She had said, rushing over to him, [b]"It's okay, it's okay, mama will put a plaster on and you'll be all healed up! Don't worry! It's only a little scratch!"[/b] She rambled, pulling Louis into a hug, careful not to hurt his knee. 

Despite the younger boy seeming visibly distressed moments before, the tears stopped as soon as Vivienne had sat down beside him. He wiped his cheeks while sniffling, [b]"You're right, Vivi," [/b]Vivienne didn't think anything of it as they went to find their mother who put a plaster on his knee. Their mother thought it was quite weird, as Louis would usually scream and cry until his throat hurt whenever he hurt himself, but Vivienne had just played it off as her being really good at comforting people.

That certainly wasn't the first or last time people had calmed down as soon as Vivienne was around. Even in school if her friends were worried or distressed, maybe they had forgotten to do their homework or had gotten into trouble and they were worried about the repercussions, it didn't really matter what the cause of their distress was, because all Vivienne had to do was say a few words of encouragement, [b]"It'll be fine, don't worry!"[/b], [b]"Everything will work out in the end,"[/b], [b]"You really shouldn't stress about that,[/b]" and they would calm down. Even the most anxious and worrisome people would miraculously calm down around Vivienne, and some of her friends had even jokingly called it her superpower which she definitely didn't mind.

[b]Word count:[/b] 431/400[/reducio][/center][/quote][/quote]

Name: Amaury Favreau
Link: tada
Year: Sixth
Stats: Stamina: 6 -> 7 | Evasion: 14 | Strength: 1 | Wisdom: 12 | ArcPower: 14 | Accuracy: 16
additional stats from PC Quidditch wins here, here, here, and here [NEW].
Trunk Coding:

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Code: Select all

[quote][quote][b]Broom Racer?[/b][size=83] NO[/size]
[b]Quidditch Player?[/b][size=83] NO[/size]
[b]Duellist?[/b][size=83] YES[/size][/quote]

[quote][b]STATS |[/b]
[size=87][b]Stamina:[/b] 7 | [b]Evasion:[/b] 14 | [b]Strength:[/b] 1 | [b]Wisdom:[/b] 12 | [b]ArcPower:[/b] 14 | [b]Accuracy:[/b] 16[/size][right][size=75][i]total 58 (+4 for Quidditch wins [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=40&t=7833&start=25&start=0]1[/url],[url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=18291&start=130#p306207]2[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=19420&start=90#p373363]3[/url], and [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=453812#p453812]4[/url])[/i][/right][/size][/quote]

[quote][b]ABILITIES |[/b]
[size=95][b]YEAR ONE |[/b][/size] [size=83]LOVELY CREATURE[/size]
[reducio][size=87]Amaury drew looks; this, he knew well, because his own looks were fit for a king. And lucky that was, because amongst their French community, the Favreaus were royalty-- at least, so they assumed of themselves. Never did they shy away from parties, showing off their children, or splurging on the latest fashion trends, and Amaury was more often than not on the receiving end of these luxuries. Their appearance reflected their status-- that was what their parents had told them, what their parents’ parents had told them. Fashion was not for the lowly, the commoners. And so Amaury had been styled, primped, and preened since the day he was born, always prepared to be shown off like the righteous Pureblood he was. God forbid he make a complete embarrassment of the family by appearing in unfitted clothing or, god forbid, [i]wrinkles.[/i] Their reputation would be scorned for eternity-- there would be no recovery from a fashion faux pas.

Of course, it helped that the Favreaus and Beauforts were, and always had been, a family of good genes, and not just the wizarding ones. Lucille Favreau was gorgeous, and Aldéric was stunningly handsome. It was no surprise, then, that Amaury and his twin inherited the genes they did. And there was no question where Amaury got his genes from. The sharp jawline, the fair skin, and the full lips were all traits passed on from his mother, although his stature, dark hair, and deep brown eyes were all very clearly inherited from his father. His often quite intense stare and the way he held himself with poise and presence, often set people off, but nonetheless was oddly compelling, almost magnetising. It was not difficult, then, to charm the crowds-- they followed him blindly, entranced by his beauty and wiles. 

His dress, too, was something to admire. It wasn’t as though he was [i]fashionable,[/i] per se-- he didn’t go shopping for new outfits, and he certainly didn’t play dress-up in the mirror-- he simply always looked his best. With his hair meticulously styled to look as though it wasn’t styled in the least; clothes perfectly tailored to fit his tall, slender frame; and a jacket that likely cost more than his entire private tuition, although it wasn’t as though he himself had paid for it; Amaury’s bouts into the town never failed to draw a few stares-- primarily from the ladies of the town, but amongst the onlookers, there was no shortage of men as well. 

wc: 419
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[size=95][b]YEAR TWO |[/b][/size] [size=83]CHARMER[/size]
[reducio][size=87]Amaury could do nothing if not charm a room. The family name was simply too important to disgrace with a misspoken word or half-hearted compliment. It was all or nothing for Amaury’s family, and as such, from the moment he could talk and walk, his parents would teach him the ways of the world alongside his brother and sisters-- social etiquette, manners, and, of course, manipulation. By the time he was seven, he knew how to ballroom dance. By nine, he could host a small party, greeting his guests with a firm handshake, eye contact, and a sickeningly sweet smile. And by the ripe age of eleven years old, his charm was simply intoxicating, leaving none immune to his childish smile and thorough manners. Though he matched the mannerisms of his family when they were alone-- cold, quiet, and aloof-- by the time he left home for Beauxbatons, he was adept at covering up his intimidating demeanor and plastering on a manufactured smile within a moment’s notice. He was unstoppable when he paired his easy smile with tossing a few well-timed compliments and flattering the enemy-- for, of course, to the Favreaus, they were all enemies. And the Favreaus lived their life by keeping their enemies closer. 

And close, they were. The Favreaus had a particular penchant for throwing parties: dinner parties, tea parties, cocktail parties-- if there were drinks, there were Favreaus. And the extravagant amount of parties in the Favreau manner were, of course, the perfect outlet for Amaury’s charm. By the time he was ten, he knew just how to play the room, using an equal mix of diplomacy and flattery to get his way. He held himself with an air of grace, hoping to impress his elders and impress upon them the fine stature of the House Favreau. The Favreaus were not unworthy hosts; they were not mere wizards; they were not just some family. No, they were Purebloods-- affluent and dignified, and their behavior, naturally, must reflect such eminence.

And where Amaury went, his charm only followed. Beauxbatons was not ready for 115 pounds of pure charisma, and Amaury was completely ready to use that to his advantage. For he had realised that smiles were not only useful for upholding the family’s reputation; his wiles could also be particularly useful in social manipulation, buttering up his mark until he was ready to make a move. While he spent his off-time practicing charms and jinxes rather than on his assignments, he would simply beseech them to write it off, or struck a deal with his professors that often worked out better for him than it did for them. For, even the most wiley of professors were not immune to the charms of one Amaury Favreau.

wc: 459
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[size=95][b]YEAR THREE |[/b][/size] [size=83]PERFECTIONIST[/size]
[reducio][size=87]Amaury couldn’t stand to lose. He hated the feeling, hated the judgement, hated everything about it. He wasn’t a sore loser, of course-- he took his defeats with grace, putting on a show of sportsmanship. Only a disgrace to the family would throw a fit over losing-- but then, only a disgrace to the family would lose in the first place. He would fight to the ends of the earth to secure a victory, as his siblings well knew. But as competitive as Amaury was at home, it was nothing remotely comparable to his attitude on the duelling stage. 

From the moment the boy was introduced to the respectable yet aggressive sport of magical duelling, early in his first year at Beauxbatons, Amaury was absolutely enthralled-- caught hook, line, and sinker. The admirable sport had all the thrill and bragging rights of traditional fisticuffs, and the competition and victories of broom racing, but with none of the physical aggression and the stupid outfits. No, when duelling, Amaury could fight, legally and acceptably, with his favorite weapon-- his wand, and magic.

And so Amaury, from the moment he got his hands on a spellbook, threw himself in, head-first, to duelling. It was perhaps nearly an obsession, but absolutely nothing would be allowed to stand in the way of him and his sport. And although he wasn’t much for school, he found a passion in learning new spells, jinxes, and hexes he could use to destroy his opponents. He perused anything he could get his hands on-- mostly textbooks, old and new-- long into the night, evading the responsibilities of his assignments. They weren’t worth his time anyway, he told himself, as he read just one more chapter under the covers.

Magic came easily to him, he realised as spells flew from his wand without a hitch time after time. But nonetheless, he practiced. He practiced, and practiced, and practiced until he thought his wand might break, at which point he stopped, because Merlin knew his wand was the most valuable thing he owned. He practiced at home, he practiced in class, he practiced in between classes. He expected nothing less than absolute perfection and, soon, so did his family. He took it upon himself to become a world-class dueller, for nothing else would suffice. Not a single spell would fail; not a single spell would miss. That was the expectation, and that was the undeniable result of Amaury’s hard work.

wc:409
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[size=95][b]YEAR FOUR |[/b][/size] [size=83]EVASIVE MANEUVERS[/size]
[reducio][size=87]Amaury had a tendency to get in over his head. Always reading ahead in his spell textbooks, practicing charms and hexes that were perhaps a bit too difficult for a wizard of his young age. Nevertheless, warnings from friends, professors, family, against such activities, warnings in his best interest, still would not deter him from building his arsenal of spells, one large step towards becoming the greatest dueller of his time. And so he would practice such spells perhaps a little recklessly, such spells much too unfit for such a young wizard to know in theory, let alone use in practice. 

And of such unprotected and advanced practice came predictable, yet unavoidable disaster. A poor combination: an old book, a difficult incantation, a backfired curse. Disaster; a searing pain slicing through Amaury’s arm, fuzzing his brain, his vision; red, warm, wet. Pain in his knees as he dropped to the stone floor. Black, quiet, then light again, and a scream, an incantation-- [i]ferula.[/i] A servant or a parent, Amaury didn’t know, couldn’t tell. Bandages flew around his arm, cinching tightly to hold in the blood seeping out. Black again. Light again, but this time he was on his back. A ceaseless sting of beratings from his parents, his sister’s face, his brother’s face, his twin’s face. A burning pain in his right arm, his forearm. Bandages still cinched tightly around the area. Black again.

Two years later, the scar still remained. A thin, faint line of raised skin, stretching six and a half centimeters down the inside of his right forearm. It was hard to notice unless one looked closely, although Amaury never let anyone get close enough to quite make it out clearly. But even if it wasn't obvious to outsiders, Amaury was painfully aware of its presence, taking it as a warning. The warning, though, was not of getting ahead of himself, of biting off more than he could chew. No, contrary to expectations, the warning was this: to stay on his toes. To stay on his toes to know his abilities, know his limits. To stay on his toes to avoid stray spells, or non-stray spells that were specifically aimed at him. 

Although his façade claimed he could take a hit, he was fully aware of his weak and lean stature, so he relied on his quick dodges and powerful spells to keep him standing. And as he duelled, as he practiced, he only got quicker, faster, lighter on his toes-- his dodges became more anticipated, his evasions became more fluid, and he was nearly untouchable.

wc:431
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[size=95][b]YEAR FIVE |[/b][/size] [size=83]FEARLESS[/size]
[reducio][size=87]Amaury never intended to find himself in an illegal duel during the short days he spent at the Hogwarts castle, but the enthusiastic Russian boy who accosted him one autumn afternoon seemed to have other plans. Duelling was the topic of conversation, one Amaury knew plenty about. The other boy, too, seemed similarly interested, and Amaury couldn't resist delving into the topic with a fellow duellist, however frivolous he may seem. And although Amaury feigned apathy at the Durmstrang student's suggestion that the two have a "fun" practice session, he couldn't help but be intrigued. Duelling was duelling, no matter the opponent, and Amaury was simply eager to get back on the stage-- so to speak.

It was truly a shame, Amaury thought as he made his way towards the location the two had agreed upon, that a boy so optimistic had set himself up for failure at the wand of Beauxbaton's finest dueller-- at least, in Amaury's eyes. He stood across from the boy, wand at the ready, as his competition raised his own.

Amaury knew people. He knew what they would say, how they would react, what topics made them tic.  Nothing, however, could have prepared him for the onslaught that bubbly little Maksim Preobrazhensky released from his wand that afternoon. The boy seemed to morph into a different person, smiles and small talk replaced with intimidation and concerningly colorful insults. The spells came towards Amaury at a furious speed, a deadly glare in Maksim's eyes, unlike anything Amaury had seen before. This was the face of a boy who had nothing to lose, the face of a boy who knew what he wanted, who could send Amaury to the infirmary with just a look.

Amaury saw death in this boy's eyes as they slung their spells, all ground rules and forethought out the window. This was a fight for his [i]life[/i]. He seemed to shrink as he shot his spells with the same intensity that usually came naturally but now felt forced as he simply held his ground and waited out the storm. There would be no risky, offensive moves today. The typical cocky confidence that held his head high and ego higher slipped away, until it all suddenly... stopped. 

The smile sat comfortably on Maksim's face, as if it had never disappeared. As if not one minute ago he was targeting Amaury as the victim of his deadly slew of spells.

Amaury left Maksim, feeling shaken yet determined. He had felt, standing across from the other boy, [i]helpless.[/i] Perhaps even... scared? Neither were feelings Amaury was particularly familiar, or comfortable, with. So, determined. Determined to take the stage with an air of confidence, and leave the same way, [i]every single time.[/i] None of this fear nonsense. There was no one in this world who could stand up to Amaury now-- why should they? He had faced God today, and dammit, if he wasn't going to come out the other side stronger, better, and unafraid of Death himself.

wc: 504
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[size=95][b]YEAR SIX |[/b][/size] [size=83]SPELL SPREAD[/size]
[reducio][size=87]No one living in the Favreau Manor ever did anything small. Go big or go home, that was their way. There was no room in such a rich, Pureblood lifestyle for moderation. From pranks to parties, lush extravagance and profligacy were always at the forefront of a planning committee’s minds in the Favreau Manor. Everything, everything was over the top, ostentatious, showy. And Amaury was no different, particularly when it came to his strongest suit: duelling.

Amaury was no stranger to powerful spells… or a little underhanded trickery to give him a leg up. Not that he needed any sort of crutch, because he was perfectly capable of winning a duel with sheer talent alone, thank you very much. But that didn’t mean that a few tricks up his sleeve wouldn’t help, or, y’know, just look cool as hell. And he was all about looking cool as hell as he knocked his opponent out cold. And this trick he learned was, indeed, something to admire.

It was only for the most powerful spellcasters, this skill. Those who are just a bit reckless, just a bit too powerful for their own good, those who are perhaps lacking a bit concerningly in self-preservation. Splitting one spell into two distinct beams of light, capable of hitting two separate targets– it was a wild, unpredictable force that took great talent and concentration, and a little bit of sheer luck. It was perfect for Amaury.

Amaury [i]was[/i] reckless. He was reckless enough to perhaps one day stumble upon this spell-splitting technique by accident one day. But he had heard tales, read tales, of the great wizards who could control the magic, summon immense power, and split their spells into equally powerful fragments. It was no accident that the boy had developed this skill. He sought it out.

Amaury had been burnt before in his boundless quest for knowledge and power, literally at times. He had scars to show for it. But although he had learned lessons, sure, never before had the boy managed to learn the [i]proper[/i] lesson that should be taken away from these injuries. He hadn’t learned that attempting skills above his age level seemed to always end in some sort of disaster– no, he had just learned that he needed to [i]try harder[/i] next time. And this was what he did. Again. And again. And again. Because although the young Favreau was a mere sixteen, the great wizards of the past were no match for his sheer stubbornness and determination. And so Amaury, just a child, learned to wield the power, splitting his spells into two distinct beams of light on command. It was still unstable, sure, and never had he managed to get it more than a few times in a row without it backfiring on him, but he had done it. He had conquered the spell spread.

wc: 483
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[quote][center][size=87]All mentions of Amadea Campbell’s iNPC, [i]Sylviane Favreau,[/i] have been approved by Amadea.[/size][/center][/quote][/quote]

Name: Mathis Aloysius
School: Beauxbatos
Year: 1st
Status: Muggle-born
Appearance: Surprisingly short for his age, Mathis ("Mat") is only 4'6 or 137cm. His parents are still really surprised on how short he is, considering both of them were frighteningly tall for their age. Besides his height, Mat has brown skin and almost black hair- most of the time he styles it back with copious amounts of gel. Anytime he's not wearing his school uniform, he's rocking a leather jacket and black jeans.
The one defining factor for Mat is that he's blind in his left eye due to a nasty fall. This doesn't interfere with his everyday life- any hearing loss he had also suffered has since been fixed, and he's able to see just fine out of his right eye.

wc: 121
Personality: What Mat lacks in height, he more than makes up for it in personality. Mat has always seen himself as a cool kid, even when he was in a friend group with other the other children at school. He puts himself on a pedestal, refuses to be careful and even if he's feeling brave argues against authority. Though the last time he had talked back to his mother, he had gotten a very stern lecture.
Though he might seem a bit faux, Mat is still very friendly, if a bit pushy. He has a tendency to go over boundaries and can be a bit on the annoying side. His friendliness gives him the ability to strike up a conversation with just about anyone he finds interesting, but those people might find him reckless and harsh with his words.
wc: 139
History: Born November 12th, 2011 to Elodie and Zane Aloysius, Mathis was a perfect baby. After dealing with a loss before, they were ready to finally have their son in their lives. Someone to continue the Aloysius legacy and also just a child to raise of their own.
On Mathis' fourth birthday, however, something went wrong. Unable to contain his excitement, the toddler Mathis ran all the way down the stairs in the Aloysius house- and then unthinkable happened. He tripped. The fall landed with Mathis falling on his head, luckily without a concussion and only a broken nose.
But Mathis had lost his vision in his left eye- and a little bit of hearing in his left ear too, due to the pressure. The experience was scary, and Mathis had spent a week in the hospital. Though he was considered lucky to have only lost eyesight in one eye, rather than both, Mathis would never, ever run down a flight of stairs again.
Despite his loss of eyesight, it never seemed to bother the boy. He was still able to learn at school just fine, but he still had to adjust to monocular vision, rather than binocular vision. Sometimes he'd miss lines on paper, and occasionally he'd grab at something only to completely miss it on the first try. The little things that he had to adjust to weren't enough that it was a huge cause for concern, but it was definitely frustrating.
When Mathis realized that he was a wizard, it was just a normal Saturday afternoon, sometime when he was eight or nine. While he was outside playing with his schoolfriends by a river, they all began making dares to see who could skip a rock the farthest. The boys all chose their rocks, with Mathis choosing a big and heavy one, and began skipping. The tallies marked and they'd all get one or two, with the highest score being four!
And then it was Mathis turn- although he still had some perception issues due to his monocular vision, he thought he could still get a few skips in. He readied his arm, pointed at the river and then skip!
One, two, three... wait- the rock began skipping across the river over and over again, counting up eight and then nine and then it was at the other end of the river! It wasn't like the river was a small skinny one, it was at least 20 feet! His eyes were wider than ever, what had even happened? Why did his rock skip like a billion times? The high score of 4 was quickly beat.
wc: 437
Is your character a Broom Racer? No
Is your character a Quidditch Player? No
Is your character a Duelist? No
Stats: stamina: 6 | evasion: 5 | strength: 5 | wisdom: 9 | arcane power: 8 | accuracy: 2

Ability: Blindvision
wc: 458

Reducio

Mathis still has some troubles with his eyesight, despite the fact that he has adapted well to his vision loss. His body has slowly had to adjust to his lack of vision, his ears have grown stronger, his sense of smell has gotten better and his ability to tell what objects are despite not being able to exactly see them- all of this has been his body adjusting.
Mathis has learned the entirety of his house without having to see- he knows exactly when to turn before hitting a wall, where to stop to not bump into desks or tables, exactly where the difference between the tile flooring in the kitchen and the carpet in the living room. He's almost always on autopilot in his house.
This adjustment had become most prevalent when his house had lost power, plunging everything in darkness in the middle of the night. They lived far out into the country, there were no streetlamps or cars to light up the house, and Mathis had to somehow get to his parents' bedroom.
The walk to their bedroom was slightly more complicated than getting from the kitchen to the living room. Unlike the two other rooms which were on the same floor, Mathis had to blindly walk up steps and try to deduce where the bedroom was. He seldom goes up the stairs since his incident but knew exactly how many there were. It was simple to someone who could see- but in the darkness of the house and the lack of vision in one eye, Mathis was not someone who could currently see.
Fourteen steps up, that was his first mission. If he could make it up fourteen steps, then he'd be at the second floor. Hold the rail until he felt the sudden bump up at the end of the railing, which signaled that he had stood on the last step. Good, now he had to turn right until he heard the sound of the air conditioner running. His parents always slept with the air conditioner loud enough to hear from their bedroom, even with the door shut.
All he had to do now was turn right and feel for the door. The knob was on the lefthand side, closer to the wall. The doorknob was semi-rusted, and you could feel the ridges from where it was placed in the door before you could feel the actual doorknob itself. Mathis searched the door, running both of his hands until he felt the ridges.
There, he had made his way up the stairs and to his parents' room; now all he had to do was wake them and tell them the power was out. That would be much easier than navigating the house.

Approved - link to the encyclopedia page [Link]

Name: Stella Williams
School: Beauxbatons
Year: Sixth
Status: Pureblood
Appearance: Stella is a slender girl, with long dirty blonde hair that reaches her waist, a bow is usually placed in it, keeping her hair out of her eyes. She has bright green eyes, which are usually narrowed in a cold glare. She is pale, with freckles dotting her cheeks and nose to give her appearance a more youthful first glance. She has a perfect posture, not once will you see her slouch. From seeing her from a distance, you can tell she was raised to give off a graceful appearance.

Reducio

Personality: The young pureblood is not nice by any means. With a permanent scowl on her face, her attitude matches her face. She is able to be fake in the sense of keeping things civil, but Stella is cold with mostly everyone. Trust, she fears, makes her weak. Especially when her family is just as paranoid with people as she is. She has a few friends, who she is softer with. But at her core, Stella is spiteful, cruel, and impatient. She does, however, have morals, and a good sense of kindness for those who can’t look after themselves.

History: Stella was born into a life of magic, lies, and pureblood chaos. The Williams family, even before Stella’s birth, had it’s fair share of problems. She was born into a then family of three; her mother, Elise(NPC) . Her father, Olivier(NPC). And her older brother, Sam(NPC). Elise married into a long lineage of purebloods, but what the family did not know, was that Elise had a muggle sister; Angela. Who at that point, had gone off to marry a different man and have children of her own. But Olivier’s family was enraged at the idea of having someone with mortal connections married into their tree. Elise decided to break off from her maiden family, not knowing that Angela (NPC, also Rosie's mother) would go on to have wizard children.

Her and Olivier moved to France with their son Sam, and would finally go on to have Stella. With a new child, Olivier and Elise’s family were treated much better, now that they were away from Elise’s muggle family. Pureblood delegations resumed, and Olivier and Elise regularly met with other families. Including ones from London. A few years later, Stella’s little sister, Eloise (NPC), was born. The three children had a happy childhood, anything that Olivier or Elise did that would be considered unethical was done behind the scenes, and away from their children. Luckily due to Elise’s connection with muggles, they were not raised to be discriminatory against muggles. For the sake of being easy to do business with, and to confide in, their parents encouraged Stella to hate people based on their qualities as a person, and not their bloodline. In fact, they encouraged their children to be wary of everyone. You could never know what someone was truly up to, as purebloods betrayed each other all the time. Thus, Stella was raised to be paranoid. However, not to her knowledge, her older brother Sam had taken a more sinister approach to meet the pureblood standards. Thus was the life when you were surrounded by the wrong purebloods. But more on that another time.

When she was eleven, Stella discovered her magical prowess. She had been trying to copy something she had seen her mother doing, and ended up making a mess in the kitchen as a result. She had used Leviosa to clang a pot against the one her mom was moving, thus triggering a domino effect of fallen kitchenware. Frustrated as she was for her poor kitchen tools, Elise was excited to know that her daughter was capable of magic the same as them. Wanting her to be exposed to the same proper prestige that she was at home, Stella was sent to Beauxbatons to learn how to utilize her magic to the fullest. Little did she know, this would open more learning for her than being stuck at home ever did.

Tl;dr: The only playable character within Stella's family is Stella, though she is related to Rosie via cousins.
Is your character a Broom Racer? No.
Is your character a Quidditch Player? No.
Is your character a Duelist? No.
Stats:
Stamina: 12
Evasion: 6
Strength: 8
Wisdom: 12
ArcPower: 14
Accuracy: 8

Pending - a few minor things. We need an image as per the requirements of this app.

The other is a verification. While it was not said even once in the application, when someone mentions a family member that has had kids that has kids but never elaborates further, I need to verify if these children a part of the community as players or NPCs. I know that it cannot be your character because you are muggle born and this character's maternal aunt would be the child of purebloods and a squib. A squib is still a pureblood technically, so if she were to have a child with a muggle, they would be a half-blood and if the squib was to have a child with a wizard they would be wizard-born.

I also noticed that your stat total does not match Rosie's. As a year 6 you should be entitled to 60 stats, but your PC only has 55. You should update this. This has no effect on your application here as I can add, but it would be in your best interest to get fully updated.

Approved - I have added your encyclopedia page [here]