iNPC Name: Aurélie Nathalie Duval
Link: viewtopic.php?t=29132
Year: Two
Stats: Old: Sta 6 | Eva 8 | Str 6 | Wis 8 | Arc 6 | Acc 7
New: Sta 6 | Eva 9 | Str 6 | Wis 8 | Arc 6 | Acc 7
Changes: +1 Dueling win: viewtopic.php?t=33759&view=unread#p1071962
Abilities: No changes
Extracurricular: No changes (Duelist)
Content Changes: Very minor - When I first typed up Aurélie's first instance of magic, I wrote that one of her neighbours had dropped off the homework that she'd missed. Since then, I've written in multiple places that she was homeschooled with tutors. So I'd like to change the first instance of magic text from this:

Reducio

Aurélie first experienced magic at the age of eight. She had just broken her right arm by falling out of a tree, skipping two days of school as a result. One of her neighbors had sent her the past days' homework and Aurélie had sat at the dining table, looking at it in disgust. She couldn't write with her left hand, so she had to wait for her mother to come down and help her. Staring at the first page, she saw the blank where she had to write her name and closed her eyes, pained, wishing that she'd never been foolish enough to climb that tree. Now she couldn't even write in the answers in her homework sheet. When she opened her eyes, she'd been stunned to see that her name had in fact written itself upon the sheet, in the same loopy handwriting as her own. She blinked, but the words were still there. Aurélie blinked again, but this time, when she opened her eyes, the words were gone.

to this:

Reducio

Aurélie first experienced magic at the age of eight. She had just broken her right arm by falling out of a tree, skipping two days of school homeschooling as a result. One of her neighbors had sent her the past days' homeworkAll of her tutors had combined her missed coursework into a homework packet and delivered it to her, and Aurélie had sat at the dining table, looking at it in disgust. She couldn't write with her left hand, so she had to wait for her mother to come down and help her. Staring at the first page, she saw the blank where she had to write her name and closed her eyes, pained, wishing that she'd never been foolish enough to climb that tree. Now she couldn't even write in the answers in her homework sheet. When she opened her eyes, she'd been stunned to see that her name had in fact written itself upon the sheet, in the same loopy handwriting as her own. She blinked, but the words were still there. Aurélie blinked again, but this time, when she opened her eyes, the words were gone.

Trunk Coding: No changes

STATUS: Pending, Linda Ramirez, 5 October
Reason for Pending:
– In the sentence before tutors bringing homework, you write that she missed two days of school. As pureblood and homeschooled she wouldn't go to school at the first place. Please remove any mention of school.
– In the future please don't roleplay something that is different from what was approved in Aurélie encyclopedia before applying for changes and getting them approved first.

Approved - Fabian, 6 Oct

NPC Name: Katherine Felix
Link: here!
Year: Fifth Year
Stats: Current: (+5 from past wins)
Stamina: 10 | Evasion: 13 | Strength: 13 | Wisdom: 4 | Arcane Power: 0 | Accuracy: 20
+ 1 Stamina (duel win)
New:
Stamina: 11 | Evasion: 13 | Strength: 13 | Wisdom: 4 | Arcane Power: 0 | Accuracy: 20
Abilities: N/A
Extracurricular: Staying Quidditch Player - Chaser
Content Changes: N/A
Trunk Coding: same as before, but with the stat added + win noted

Reducio

Code: Select all

[quote][b]Is your character a Broom Racer?[/b] No
[b]Is your character a Quidditch Player?[/b] Yes
[b]Is your character a Duelist?[/b] No[/quote]
[quote][b]Stats:[/b] Stamina: 11 | Evasion: 13 | Strength: 13 | Wisdom: 4 | Arcane Power: 0 | Accuracy: 20

(+6 from duelling wins ([url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=13876&start=50#p222151]1[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=20756&start=30#p406326]2[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=889047#p889047]3[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=1019652#p1019652]4[/url]) & quidditch wins ([url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=21955&start=80#p460013]1[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=775004#p775004]2[/url]))[/quote]
[quote][b]Abilities:[/b] Evasive Maneuvers (WC: 481 words)
[reducio]"C'mon! Let's play!" Messy red hair bounced up and down with the girl, trying to get the two others to join. Isabelle nodded, a smile spreading across her face as both the girls turned towards Helen. The young woman glanced between the two, before letting out a soft sigh with a smile. "Alright, but just one round. Go on, you two, hide." Kit chirped in excitement, quickly dashing off. It wasn't often that she could get the two to play hide and go seek. They preferred to stick with the original, apparently.

Light footsteps would be heard, trailing around different locations to not give Helen any clues. But eventually she would stop, hiding behind a couch. It certainly wasn't the best hiding spot, but it would have to do. Wherever Isabelle might've hidden was a question for later. Now to wait.

It wouldn't take long, before Kit would find herself glancing around, trying to find where Helen had gone. She had peeked up too much, red hair rather visible against the colorless background. The young girl realized this a moment later, keeping her position for a few moments longer while Helen came towards her. She'd wait for the last minute, before quickly bouncing back out of reach. Kit decided to test her fate a little more, allowing for one more chance. A few moments of waiting, before another quick dodge out of the way, laughing from the adrenaline. It was a fun little game for the young girl, but she'd dash away, trying to find the next hiding spot. Blue-green eyes would glance around the next corridor, running in before she realized that Isabelle was standing in the middle of the walkway.

"Did you get tagged?" The younger girl would ask, bouncing on her feet slightly. Her sister would say nothing, but began to close the gap between them. A hand would whip out to try and tap the redhead, but she had side-skipped, barely getting out of the way. "You did!" she gasped, a grin widening. She would pause for a moment, before running before Isabelle or Helen could tag her in her surprise. Having two on one posed an interesting challenge, as they directed her towards a dead end. Kit didn't notice until she was almost against the wall, keeping out of both of their reaches. But in a dead end, there was only so much ducking and weaving one could do until they got tagged. Fingers would barely graze her arm, and the girl would stop, quickly turning around to face the others.

"Well that wasn't fair," she pouted, a little out of breath. Helen shook her head, huffed laughter escaping her. "No, Kitkat dear, there was nothing fair about what you were doing. We needed our own tactics to win." Isabelle would nod, offering her sister an impressed smile. "I think we'll just stick to regular hide-and-seek."[/reducio]Savior (WC: 459 words)
[reducio] Quidditch was a fun sport. Dangerous and way more competitive than she had realized. There had been talk back at home, but the importance of quidditch never really set in until Kit was trying out to join the team. Sports had never been about winning, but rather being a group to spend time with and get to know. Still, it was important that she in some way aided the team. The height of play was scary enough, not to mention adding bludgers into the mix.

One of the practices, they practiced catching in a more controlled and safe environment so that teammates might be able to help each other better when the real game came around. It was strange to have a new weight on the broom. There was some struggle with maneuverability and keeping the other person on at the same time. But still, it sounded like the perfect way to help out. Maybe even prevent some of the more serious injuries that could occur when one fell down from such a distance.

Practices remained the same, but Kit spent more time figuring out what best to use as a substitute for an additional person on the broom. Backpacks stuffed with books worked well, trying to move around easily enough without the bag toppling over and free falling down to the ground. It was strange to have less space on the broom, but the girl adjusted, challenging herself to have more room on the back of the broom. But having two people on a broom was just one step. The other was catching.

This was more challenging to practice, generally required someone else to help out. One way was by tossing the previously used backpack down to be caught. The distances were small at first- a light toss between the two, but the distance and height increased as Kit grew more confident with this skill. This didn’t mean that the backpack stayed intact, however, books pressing their edges into the fabric until it ripped. No new scratches or tears had been seen in a while, though, significant improvement from the start of her outside practices. 

The second way was carrying someone. This almost always drew laughs the first few times as Kit struggled to figure out how best to get a person onto the back of her broom. For what sounded like the simple part, the second year found it rather complicated, making sure to put padding down before ever trying to pick up her friend. While the quidditch player had yet to use this new skill in a game, she was positive it would be useful at some point. Plus, it was another way for her to help out from a distance. Or on the same broom.[/reducio]Calming Presence (WC: 447 words)
[reducio]"Kit, you know you shouldn't do something like that." It was back in elementary school, after Kit had jumped off of the top of the play structure as a dare. She hadn't gotten hurt, but a teacher had spotted and told her parents about it. And so now she sat, listening to them scold again and thinking about other things. More important things in her opinion. "Isabelle wouldn't do such a thing." Katherine agreed with that, of course. Isabelle wouldn't do such a thing- but she didn't expect herself to be her older sister. So all she did was wait- and nothing else happened. She was let off and went back to playing around in the house. So why worry about expectations if all her parents would do was talk about it? Isabelle was already the better sibling, so why should Kit compete?

And with that, Katherine was generally a relaxed person- a care free person living a care free life. Sure, there was school and some stresses that came with it, but the witch didn't care about grades so long as it was passing. Plus, she had quite a few resources from her older sister and from her grandparents via owls. Her parents weren't pleased with low grades, but as Kit had never felt like the favorite of her parents, she learned to shrug it off like the other times her parents talked about disappointments. And since nothing was done asides from voicing disappointment, shrugging it off was easy. There was little punishment in Kit's world and so she could continue to be care free.

Instead, her focuses could be entirely on the activities she enjoyed- quidditch, music, and art. Everything else could remain at a passing as the second year spent most of her time working on what made her happy. The school-fun balance didn't shift much since first year, and yet it was enough to start something big. Her enjoyment in her activities and how she spent her time made her happier. And her happiness boosted confidence, conversations, and her care free nature. It created new friends and helped her find more activities that interested her, clubs that sounded really cool or muggle sports that she had never heard of before.

Her own contentment and happiness with her life changed how she held herself as she became a third year, no longer a new student yet not a role model either. This feeling and presence of her own calmness and relaxed nature could be felt by others around her- smiles to strangers, positive outlooks, and encouragement became more commonplace as she realized how it affected others, happy to spread her carefree nature to others.[/reducio]Evasive Maneuvers II (WC: 441 words)
[reducio]Kit was a little miffed by her summer quidditch performance. While she saved the seeker and scored one goal in a rather short game, that was the extent of her achievements when the intention had been to save three people and perhaps score a few more shots. How underwhelming. Still, it gave the Beauxbatons student a new goal and something to aim towards- she probably couldn't learn how to carry more people on her broom, but practicing how to ride precisely and efficiently while weaving through the pitch would certainly help. The French school didn't have much in the way of a training pitch, but they did have an impressive racing track and a hedge maze.

And so that was how the girl trained, spending additional time outside of her normal practice to bob and weave through the mountain tunnels and hoops, occasionally offering for other students to hit bludgers at her or throw things at her that she needed to catch- just to make things a little more complicated. While the new practice included many trips to the medic ward as she crashed into the sides of the rockface or got hit by a particularly bad bludger, these visits grew less frequent with time. From shakily flying through the course to bobing and weaving at high speeds, it was clear that the additional practice mixed with the usual sports routine had advanced her precision and technique. It came with the added benefit of being able to dodge bludgers a little easier as she didn't want to get hit along the way to save someone falling from the sky nor slow down in case they got too low to thr ground and Kit could no longer catch them.

Her focus improved her flying, but the student also realized that it helped in other situations. Getting precise movements on a broom meant proper balance and quick calculated moves and leans to get the right direction, easily translating to her own balance and quick moves on land. Moving at such speeds required quick glances and decisions, helping both when targeted by bludgers, spells, or pushy students in crowded halls. While a little different, the observation allowed her to find a new practice for this curious skill. Kit had little skill in dueling, but she could offer herself up to be a training target and learn a little from the other duelists who had to duck, spin, and roll away from spells on a daily basis. It did mean seeing the mediwizards again after she had just reduced her visits, but now the Beauxbatons student knew how to evade both in the sky and on land.[/reducio]Rapid Reviver (WC: 466 words)
[reducio]In classes, Kit only ever paid enough attention to hear when the class would be dismissed, straightening up from her slouched boredom to pack the very few things she set out on her desk and taking off towards the outdoors. Quidditch and its adjacent activities were the only things the Beauxbatons student cared about, wishing to run about and feel the speed after spending the morning still and stuck in place. To feel that rush, to feel that drive, to share in that group effort and determination. She strided out, picked up her broom, and headed off to find her team or to the track that circled around the school.

Speed had never been an issue. Kit wasn't necessarily the fastest, but she could rush forward on her broom with little hesitation towards obstacles and dangers, just barely steering out of the way to not collide as sharp turns found the rewards of quaffle scores, blatches, or saved teammates. But it would be stamina, that continued strain, that would always find her. The waking up in the school's hospital, blinking awake as she learned of the newest injury that had sent her tumbling out of the sky. Kit would always laugh at the stories or applaud her teammates for their efforts, but there had always been a little annoyance at the back of her mind. How she couldn't just keep going- find that last little bit of strength.

She wasn't the only one. The now fifth year had taken on the role of saving people, keeping them in the game just a little longer. It was her own goals returned back to the others, a smile whenever she managed to bring someone back to their broom and watch them perfect their skills. But there were also times when Kit had to continue to let them fall, consciousness drifting long before they reached the ground. Surely they felt the same way that Kit did when she woke up, that pride in the team yet the edge of bitterness over their own accomplishments. Well, if Kit couldn't get that feeling, then at least she could try and give it to others. It would take a few tips from the nurses in the hospital plus many failed attempts, but eventually someone would fall from their broom with eyes already shuttered close and Kit would race over to catch them. Through some jostling, shaking, and determination- those eyes would blink open to see the back of Kit, a few strands of red hair whipping through the air as the rest struggled to stay within the semi-secured space buns. They'd hear a small laugh, before Kit guided them back to their broom- a gentle yet quick return to the conscious world. A chance to continue the fight even after the end.[/reducio][/quote]

STATUS: Approved, Célestine de la Croix-Valmer, 14 October

STATUS: Pending, Farron Horne, Oct 19th
In your werewolf application, there is a magical healer, so they would tell the family about Wolfsbane which is what schools give to their werewolf students to help with the effects of lycanthropy. Additionally, there are some French translations that are still in another language, please ensure these are translated to English instead.

With your charmer application, even with manipulation tactics, it's highly unlikely that an experience seller would fall to the charm of a child to reveal something he was selling was a cursed object. This situation could be edited to where he was able to haggle something to a slightly lower price for his mother due to his adorable child charm.

STATUS: Pending, Célestine de la Croix-Valmer, Oct 20th
Reason for pending:
In your biography you write that mother is talented Healer. In your werewolf application it doesn't make sense for her to not know that wound is from werewolf and it doesn't make sense for her to not know about Wolfsbane potion. Please edit it.

STATUS: Approved, Célestine de la Croix-Valmer, 20th October
Link to encyclopedia: Mathis Noir

NPC Name: Peter Smith
Link: link
Year: second
Stats: n/a
Abilities: Keen Eye

Reducio

Peter peered into Marietta’s pale eyes. “What to you have to say for yourself?” The boy demanded, in Welsh, as he tapped his black Nike shoes. “Nothing,” the little girl would squeak.

“Nothing, huh? Then, young lady, what happens here? What?? And don’t lie, I can tell when you are.” Truthfully he couldn’t but if the truth would spill out of Marietta’s lips, then he would consider the lying, not lying. There was a vase on the floor. A broken vase.

Peter knew what happened. He clearly saw it out of the corner of his eye. As Marietta walked besides it. she turned around, possibly to go back into the kitchen, the whole vase, including the flowers, fell down, the glass shattering. He knew what happened, and he wasn’t gonna let his sister know, but he had to let her know. Wait, dramatics! He had thought when Marietta looked up after the vase broke, and the hard, cold stare he was giving her should help the girl out of her squeaky fibbing.

“Fine. I did it. But it was an accident!” The little Welsh girl frankly band finally cried out in her mother tongue, obviously fearful of her older brother even though she should know that the Beauxbatons boy would never hurt his sister.

“I’d like to disagree.” Peter snorted, his brown hair falling in front of his face. He used his hand to mousse it back up, and he glanced at his sister again.

“And I’d like to say my part of the story. But, I certainly don’t want to hear yours again. ” Marietta scowled. The little seven year old stomped her feet and looked out the window. A blue French bird was chirping, and the bright greens of leaves seemed to blind Peter. He shook his head and let it be. Marietta had already started her story.

“....minding my own business, and y’know and like, when I turn too leave, the whole stupid thing comes crashing down.” Peter knew Marietta had just gotten her first instance of magic but he wanted to see how this went. Her Welsh accent became really noticeable when she said “minding”.

Peter nodded and smiled. “What? What’s the matter with you, young man?” Marietta had gone too far. He realize Marietta was being sassy, he made his mouth open wide as if he was gaping and then he knew what to do.

Peter’s smirk faded as he glared at her. A bunch of fakery. “I’m older than you, Marietta Smith. Don’t get mouthy with me.” He turned around to the vase and picked the pieces of glass up, gingerly. He then said, “Now, if you’d let me finish... You’ve had your first instance of magic. So, good day.” As Peter padded away from his little sister staring at him in utter disbelief, he grinned when his sister couldn't see his face, and he just knew he had won. 486.400

Extracurricular: qudditch, beater
Content Changes: I didn't realize this til now but my FC doesn't match with Peter’s description, so I’d like to change it. It says “wavy light brown hair and light brown skin”, and I’d like to change it to, “brown hair and pale white skin”.
Trunk Coding:

 [quote][img]/images/upload/25eu73.webp[/img][/quote]
[quote]
[center][size=60][b]stamina seven × evasion five × strength seven × wisdom eight × arc power eight × accuracy eight × calming presence ×[/quote][center][size=60][b]welsh human half-blood |first string beater[/b][/size][/center][quote][center][size=50][i][inlinecode]‘cause I'm in a field of dandelions[/inlinecode][/i][i][inlinecode]wishing on every one that you’d be mine, mine[/inlinecode][/i][/center][/quote]
[quote][size=60][b][inlinecode]number one [/inlinecode] [/b] calming presence |[b][inlinecode]number two[/inlinecode][/b] keen eye| [b][inlinecode]number three[/inlinecode][/b]| [b][inlinecode]number four[/inlinecode][/b] | [b][inlinecode]number five[/inlinecode][/b] | [b][inlinecode]number six[/inlinecode][/b] | [b][inlinecode]number seven[/inlinecode][/b][/quote][reducio][center][b]calming presence[/b][/center]
Carefree he is, Peter has a strange personality and presence. How carefree he is, you can ask his friends.
Netherless carefree, he has a very strange aura. Calm. How calm you ask? He makes you feel very calm and relaxed, even though your full of loads of stress and worries. He could be a therapist or a nurse, how calm he can make a person, if he wanted to follow his muggle mother ’s sisters’ footsteps. Aunt Cherry is a pretty good therapist while Auntie Bee (Beatrice) is a scrub lovin’ nurse. But ever since his first instance of magic he's been wanting to be a wizard and go to Hogwarts with his best friends. But that doesn't happens. At all.
If you spoke to Peter, his cheerful and curious attitude and happy-go-lucky nature would make you more relaxed and full of delight when you leave Peter. When his sister Marietta would get angry which was highly likely, Peter would talk go her in a soothing, genius, and soft thoughtful voice, and all her anger would of melted away in 5 seconds making her feel calm and relaxed. She'll be remembering how she was so angry and now she was so calm she could take a nap! As with his parents. Anger melting away and encouragement sliding in, made any good person affected want to do the Sams thing theirselves. Encouragement was another part of his presence. Relaxation, calmness and encouragement, was his nature. Encouraging, relaxing, calming people is what Peter asked to do.
Once after Peter and his best friend Brookline had gotten their 1st form of magic, Winnie wanted hers. She had simply wanted to go to wizardry school and to do magic. Envious, Winnie asked Brookline if the brunette would teach her magic because simply Winnie wanted magic. After failing, Peter spoke to his other best friend, encouraging and relaxing the anxious girl just by speaking. Winnie tried again, calm this time. But it still wouldn't work! Winnie is a squib. But she was so calm thanks to Peter that she accepted that! Crazy, right?
But why he gets that presence? Why he can calm a person down with his aura? How can he encouraging someone by just speaking? He gets it from his two aunts but especially from his father. His father was a very calm man. Hogwarts made him calm himself. Himself!
In conclusion, Peter has a very strange aura and a even stranger personality and perspective. How that is, you'll just have to meet him.[/reducio][reducio][center][b]keen eye[/b][/center]Peter peered into Marietta’s pale eyes. “What to you have to say for yourself?” The boy demanded, in Welsh, as he tapped his black Nike shoes. “Nothing,” the little girl would squeak.

“Nothing, huh? Then, young lady, what happens here? What?? And don’t lie, I can tell when you are.” Truthfully he couldn’t but if the truth would spill out of Marietta’s lips, then he would consider the lying, not lying. There was a vase on the floor. A broken vase.

Peter knew what happened. He clearly saw it out of the corner of his eye. As Marietta walked besides it. she turned around, possibly to go back into the kitchen, the whole vase, including the flowers, fell down, the glass shattering. He knew what happened, and he wasn’t gonna let his sister know, but he had to let her know. Wait, dramatics! He had thought when Marietta looked up after the vase broke, and the hard, cold stare he was giving her should help the girl out of her squeaky fibbing.

“Fine. I did it. But it was an accident!” The little Welsh girl frankly band finally cried out in her mother tongue, obviously fearful of her older brother even though she should know that the Beauxbatons boy would never hurt his sister.

“I’d like to disagree.” Peter snorted, his brown hair falling in front of his face. He used his hand to mousse it back up, and he glanced at his sister again.

“And I’d like to say my part of the story. But, I certainly don’t want to hear yours again. ” Marietta scowled. The little seven year old stomped her feet and looked out the window. A blue French bird was chirping, and the bright greens of leaves seemed to blind Peter. He shook his head and let it be. Marietta had already started her story.

“....minding my own business, and y’know and like, when I turn too leave, the whole stupid thing comes crashing down.” Peter knew Marietta had just gotten her first instance of magic but he wanted to see how this went. Her Welsh accent became really noticeable when she said “minding”.

Peter nodded and smiled. “What? What’s the matter with you, young man?” Marietta had gone too far. He realize Marietta was being sassy, he made his mouth open wide as if he was gaping and then he knew what to do.

Peter’s smirk faded as he glared at her. A bunch of fakery. “I’m older than you, Marietta Smith. Don’t get mouthy with me.” He turned around to the vase and picked the pieces of glass up, gingerly. He then said, “Now, if you’d let me finish... You’ve had your first instance of magic. So, good day.” As Peter padded away from his little sister staring at him in utter disbelief, he grinned when his sister couldn't see his face, and he just knew he had won.[/reducio][quote][center][b][size=50][i][inlinecode]and i see forever in your eyes[/inlinecode][/i][/size]
[center][size=50][i][inlinecode]i feel okay when i see you smile, smile[/inlinecode][/i][/b][/size][/quote]

STATUS: Pending, Farron Horne, Oct 19th
You can change the appearance descriptor yourself, that's no problem! The Keen Eye application is written as if it's an active magical change, or something happening within Peter. Keen eye is really just a tendency to notice things first, from the ability "Intuitive, logical and perhaps a bit lucky." This part of the application will need to be edited.

STATUS: Pending trunk coding Célestine de la Croix-Valmer, 20th October
Reason for Pending:
Please remove tables in your trunk coding.

STATUS: Denied appearance change
Reason for denial:
You already roleplayed Peter with description that was initially approved. Unfortunately, you can't change natural appearance now.

As we might have misunderstanding, please clarify if you roleplayed Peter with current appearance description using this FC or something matching description. In this case this might be approved.

STATUS: Approved appearance change Célestine de la Croix-Valmer, 20th October
Approved ability, trunk is approved

NPC Name: Maximilien de Fostoncy
Link: here
Year: sixth
Stats: +1 to arcane power from broom racing win here
Extracurricular: still broom racer
Trunk Coding:

Reducio

Code: Select all

[quote][center][img]/images/upload/8h6kc8.webp[/img][/center][center][size=115][b]| STATS |[/b][/size]
[b]stamina[/b] 10 · [b]evasion[/b] 14 · [b]strength[/b] 6 
[b]wisdom[/b] 15 · [b]arcane power[/b] 8 · [b]accuracy[/b] 13
[[i]+6 from wins [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=40&t=13594&hilit=&start=50#p215087]1[/url] [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=463143#p463143]2[/url] [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=594611#p594611]3[/url] [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=894018#p894018]4[/url] [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=996465#p996465]5[/url] [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=1051418#p1051418]6[/url][/i]][/center]
[center][size=115][b]| EXTRACURRICULAR |[/b][/size]
broom racing[/center]
[center][size=115][b]| WAND DETAILS |[/b][/size]
[b]wood[/b] black walnut · [b]core[/b] horned serpent horn 
[b]length[/b] 12.5 inches/31.75 cm · [b]flexibility[/b] inflexible[/center][reducio][center]WOOD EFFECTS[/center][justify]• Flavor: Will lose power if their owner lies to themselves. Will gain power when they are finally honest with themselves. A great anime-like moment for those that enjoy the genre.[/justify]
[center]CORE EFFECTS[/center][justify]• Flavor: Known to vibrate when Parseltongue is being spoken within hearing distance.
• 50% chance that this wand will vibrate if there is an unknown (stealth) individual in a thread. They are not revealed but the wand would serve as a warning that they are not alone.
• 5% chance to auto-dodge attacks (the wand makes a musical tone in instances of impending danger that serve as a warning). This does not break the 20% caps on auto-dodge.[/justify][/reducio]
[center][size=115][b]| ABILITIES |[/b][/size][/center][center][b]YEAR 1[/b] LOVELY CREATURE · [i]+2 opponent wisdom dc[/i][/center][reducio]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[/reducio][center][b]YEAR 2[/b] PERFECTIONIST · [i]-1 critical failure range[/i][/center][reducio]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[/reducio][center][b]YEAR 3[/b] SPELL SPREAD · [i]-2 acc, +2 dc, +1 crit fail to target a second opponent[/i][/center][reducio]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. [b]“Flipendo!”[/b] 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.

[b]“Nice work, young man.”[/b] the old wizard finally started, nodding approvingly. [b]“Few wizards can achieve that…only those who are truly talented…”[/b] Lowering his wand and stepping forward to right the knocked-over dummies, Maxi smiled at the old wizard. [b]“Thank you, Monsieur le Duc.”[/b] 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. [b]“I believe it’s alright, Mister Kingsleigh.”[/b] he smiled, while reaching for his wand. [b]“Pluvia Velo.”[/b] 

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[/reducio][center][b]YEAR 4[/b] PERFECTIONIST II · [i]immune to critical failures[/i][/center][reducio]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[/reducio][center][b]YEAR 5[/b] NON-HUMAN ENTHUSIAST · [i]+1 accuracy against non-humans[/i][/center][reducio]Maxi had always been a swot. 

From the time he could remember things he was into stories, or to be exact, fairytales and legends. First were the wizard novels and adventures found in his father’s studio — there weren’t many of them, but Maxi found great pleasure in reading them before he ever started his study in Beauxbatons. As soon as he enrolled he’d secretly borrow those muggle fairytales from his muggleborn classmates, and managed to read them when his grandfather was not around. Years passed, and Maxi was finally able to come to a conclusion out of this somehow fanatic passion — that, no matter who the main character was, be them wizard or muggle, a prince, princess, knight or a mere normal person, there was always something — or rather someone — that was never absent in such books. 

Creatures. 

Be it dragons or phoenixes, be it vampires or werewolves. They might be the ones that unfortunately fell in love with the princess at the same time as the prince, or might be some evil forces that tried to eat the knight in distress. Anyway, it seemed that they were inseparable from such stories, let it be muggle-ish or wizarding (only their forces in the wizarding stories might even be stronger to match the abilities of a wizard). Maxi’s interest in these beings was provoked.

He started to do research on these creatures. Being a wizard who was even able to meet these creatures in person if he was lucky enough (though it seemed now that he wasn’t that lucky, after all), it wasn’t difficult for him to gather relevant books and literature, and not before long he was able to absorb himself in the creatures’ world. Their characteristics were the first thing he paid attention to, and then their special abilities, their breeding, and their languages. Maxi thought he had known them better through such researches, and indeed he did. He soon became the introducer of magical creatures among the boys in his dorm, and, with his ability of story telling, he was quite welcomed.

Maxi had always been a storyteller.

The first time he’d compose a poem, he decided to write about a young Dhampir. He put his knowledge about the vampires and dhampirs into practice, but disappointedly found that he was still far from writing them well. The knowledge he got about them were basic, and he was far from an expert to use the information at his will. And so, he set out for the library again after class, and spent a week’s evenings reading the books he borrowed from the library in his dormitory. He took notes and drew graphs, and finally he thought he had gained a much deeper understanding of this certain breed. Maxi was excited and soon threw himself into writing. The poem was successful according to his friends, and was commented as “authentically vampirish”, even though none of them had ever seen a real vampire. Maxi was exceptionally glad about this first small but firm step — he had grasped the key of learning more about these non-humans. And so, he ventured his way further and looked up more information about them.

Hogwarts was known for its diversity, which Maxi respected a lot. The more times he visited Hogwarts, the more interested he got in it. If possible, he would really love to meet one or two not-perfectly-full-human students and get to know them and their special race eldership. Even though this wish had not been completed so far, Maxi was still running fast on his non-human research track. He continued to read and to take notes, and to compose poems and write novellas featuring non-human characters. And if there was one word to describe him, that would be…

Enthusiast.

WC| 631[/reducio][center][b]YEAR 6[/b] WANDMAKER · [i]50% stealth detect chance; 5% auto-dodge chance[/i][/center][reducio][i]Easter break, 2024.[/i]

Maxi dragged his feet across the grand Château towards his favourite hiding spot in the massive vineyard, pondering how he might hint to his grandfather about the possibility of getting a new wand. Ever since he got lost in that damned maze and bumped himself into the hedge during the last broom racing practice, everything wasn’t quite the same again. He left the track with scratches on his forehead, aches in his chest, and much distress over his heart. Physical pain and mental strain were discouraging enough for a stressful fifth-year student near the end-of-term exam, but the dysfunction of his wand was the final straw. Not that it was broken or such; he had managed to pocket it properly when he crashed into the bushes. It simply…didn't click anymore.

He contemplated. No, it’s not that the de Fostoncys couldn’t afford a new custom-made wand for their only son; Maxi just found it embarrassing and awkward to ask. It’s difficult to describe it when you felt you had lost the connection you used to have with your wand, and his grandfather would probably remark that it was a temporary thing. Though he was pretty sure that eventually Louis would take him to an established Wandmaker and get him a new wand that matched him well, deep in his heart, strangely enough, Maxi wasn’t really keen on this idea.

But if a new wand wouldn’t work, what would?

It suddenly struck him that the de Fostoncys owned a storeroom in one of the attics, managed by his father. He had been there a couple of times, admiring the delicate artefacts and patterned fabrics that belonged to his ancestors, such as his great-grandfather. Last year, Vincent spent a whole month sorting out the stuff into organised groups, and a wand - they probably had several in stock, actually - shouldn’t be too hard to find. 

Maybe he would discover a wand of an ancestor that felt just right, and secretly swap them without telling anybody. That would be a win-win, to fetch himself a handy wand and connect with a distant, glorious family member at the same time. What a wonderful, wonderful idea.

And so he quickly got out of his hiding place and jogged towards the main mansion. Sneaking into the doorway and stealthily tiptoeing upstairs, Maxi soon made his way to the dim attic. He cast Lumos with his current wand - his remark would be that while his current wand didn’t feel [i]that[/i] right, it was sufficient for basic casting - and carefully opened the cracking old door.

Carpet, clock, cup… He went through the labels his father had stuck to each drawer and halted when the label read WAND. Heart racing, Maxi bent over and slowly drew it out, discovering nine boxes in total in the drawer. He seized four of the boxes on top, sitting on the floor and crossing his legs, and started a quiet, monologic trial.

He went through all of them, randomly casting Charms he liked. But none of them felt right; they weren’t even as good as his current one. He gave another two a try and was almost defeated in his attempt after accidentally knocking an antique vase on the windowsill over into pieces.

But when he leaned over and grabbed the seventh wand, warmth tickled from the tip of his finger to the end of his arm. And the room seemed to be lighter and fresher.

Gosh. That…was it.

He examined the wand box, from which dust had probably been cleaned by his father. Initials were signed on the back of the box, possibly by its owner. [i]V. D.[/i] The [i]D[/i] had been playfully crossed out and replaced by an [i]F[/i] in cursive script. 

It was probably because of the sound made by the broken vase, and his grandfather and father made their appearances. Maxi put the wand into the box and looked up. While he used to be scared and compelled to face his grandfather and father, confidence seemed to have slowly been built over the years. Maybe it was the friends he had made along the way, maybe it was due to the various broom races he had completed, where he had to race in front of hundreds of people; or maybe it was simply because he had turned sixteen. Every grown-up was different from their child version of themselves in some way, he supposed. [b]“My wand isn’t feeling as handy as it used to be. So yeah.”[/b] He said, rather casually. Maxi cast his eyes down to the box in his hands, then to Louis and Vincent. They were silent, standing by the door and looking sober. Maxi felt a little bit hesitant to be this ad lib, glancing at their countenances.

[b]“Er…this wand feels just right, actually. Whose wand is this?”[/b] He probably couldn’t just run off and pretend that nothing had happened, so he’d better just confront his fate. Even if he was scolded for taking his liberty into the attic, it might be worth it. He raised the box. [b]“[i]V. D.[/i] - or [i]V. F.[/i]?”[/b]

Louis took the box containing the wand from his hands, only casting a single glance at it. The elderly and the middle-aged wizards still said nothing. Maxi eyed them inquisitively. Instead of just acting out strict grandfather and aloof father, both were looking…sorrowful. 

And all of a sudden, everything was clear. There was only one thing in the world that could cause a breakdown in [i]both[/i] Louis and Vincent, besides the extermination of the de Fostoncy clan.

[b]“Is it…[i]hers[/i]?”[/b]

He admitted that he really hadn’t cared much about his late grandmother, who passed away ages ago after giving birth to his father. He had probably inquired about her when he was very young, but all he could remember was that Louis abruptly switched the topic, and Vincent remained silent. In the de Fostoncy household, she seemed to not exist.

And yet she was (probably) the only one that really softened the de Fostoncy patriarchs’ hearts.

Before Maxi realised it, Louis had already walked out of the room with the wand, and Vincent was following. [b]“Father.”[/b] Maxi called out hastily, ignoring all those tedious and useless titles. [b]“…what’s her name?”[/b] He whispered.

Vincent turned, and Maxi could see that his eyes were, surprisingly, emotional. Maxi lowered his head. Vincent’s face twisted, as if answering this simple question meant causing him great pain.

[b]“Veerle.”[/b] He finally said, sounding as if he was trying hard to hold back tears. [b]“Her name is Veerle. Veerle Delcroix.”[/b]

And then Vincent hastened his steps, disappearing into the hallways.

***

[i]Summer holiday, 2024[/i]

The last two months of his fifth year had turned out to be okay. He had done a little (unsuccessful) inquiry into his grandmother’s maiden family, and finished his exams pretty uneventfully with his old wand. The only thing was that Louis had taken his grandmother’s wand away, and probably Maxi wouldn’t have the chance to see it again. Both his grandfather and father had treasured everything his grandmother had left behind, and her wand must be on top of that list. He would be compensated with a custom-made wand, possibly. That was…a little disappointing, really.

Upon his arrival at the Château, Maxi dragged his luggage upstairs and walked light-heartedly into his own bedroom, like every other start of holiday. He was shocked to find a familiar-looking box placed on his desk, as if it had appeared from nowhere. He threw his suitcase and carefully placed his hands on it. Inside was a wand, polished, shiny as new. 

It was her wand. Veerle Delcroix’s wand. Veerle de Fostoncy’s wand. His grandmother’s wand. His wand.

WC| 1283

[center][b]wood | black walnut[/b][/center]
[justify]Ever since he joined broom racing, Maxi had been trained to trust his instincts. As a part-time writer and dreamer, he spent a lot of time contemplating, contributing to deeper insights into a variety of topics. It was said that black walnut wood valued sincerity and self-awareness in its owner - well, maybe he’d lie here and there to meet his grandfather’s standards. However, Maxi was mostly honest with himself. If he ever wanted something, he wouldn’t hesitate to go for it in some applicable way. This also honed his skills at being discreet and careful. What’s more, his passion and knowledge of Charms made the pair an even more decent one. (112/50)[/justify]
[center][b]core | horned serpent horn[/b][/center]
[justify]While Maxi could get annoyed as everyone else did, he would, under most circumstances, rather sort things out in a more peaceful way.  He was an intellectual wizard, and despite the fact that he was usually deceitful towards his pushy grandfather about what he really thought, Maxi remained honest towards himself and wouldn’t think twice if he had made up his mind. Maxi also had a great passion for writing, especially poetry and fairytales, and it was natural that he was sensitive to emotions and feelings, no matter if they were his own or others’. He wrote, and he created. Those who were aware of this hobby were always encouraged by his work. (113/50)[/justify]
[center][b]length | 12.5 inches/31.75 cm[/b][/center]
[justify]Who said that an introvert couldn’t have a dramatic sense? Maxi had always been a daydreamer, and all sorts of things went on in his head. From knights who capture dragons to valkyries defeating opponents, from fairies dancing hand in hand to thrushes chanting in groups, Maxi was definitely a fan of grander scenes and wouldn’t mind creating one himself - charming ones, of course, like fireworks - if he ever had the chance. The case was simple enough; it’s just go big or go home. (86/50)[/justify]
[center][b]flexibility | inflexible[/b][/center]
[justify]Even though Maxi was a huge fan of inventing stories, sometimes even unrealistic ones, he was someone who firmly stuck to his own beliefs. While his grandfather might have expected him to do one thing through all these years (such as that he shouldn’t make friends with people from certain families), Maxi, while pretending to be obeying the orders, actually followed his own will time after time. Maxi had lots going on in his own mind; there’s not really space left for Louis’ ideas. (84/50)[/justify][/reducio][/quote]

STATUS: Approved, Fabes, 22 Oct

Reducio

(I have done my research on Albinism!! I am informed!) Sylvie is a girl standing at 4'9. She was born with albinism, causing her hair, skin, and eyes to be lighter. Her white hair is straight and is often kept down. Her eyes take on a light purple colour, often scaring people. She has nystagmus, meaning her eyes move involentary. Her eyesight is weakening over the years. She often likes to express herself by wearing colourful makeup and clothes.

STATUS: Pending, Fabes, 22 Oct
- DOB: Please define the exact date and year on which Sylvie was born. Her birthdate must be between September 2012-August 2013 as a first year student. I did a quick search, and no eligible birthdates were Friday the 13ths.
- FIOM: The instance itself is perfectly fine. However, there would be no lasting mark or scar from the bowstring snapping and hitting Sylvie in the face. Please edit.
- Blindvision app: Big thing, you reference "the tapping of Sylvie's feet" being a means of echolocation. Human echolocation is a very real thing, and works through vocal clicks as sounds as soft as the tapping of feet are by no means loud enough to produce the proper echoes. Please read up on human echolocation if you are going to base Sylvie's blindvision ability on it and edit accordingly (a good place to start is this Medical News Today Article).
Could you explain why Sylvie's head began to hurt during the period where the lights were out?
Small thing, as a pureblood Sylvie's brothers would not have access to Muggle action figures. Please edit that.

STATUS: Pending, Evodie 2 Nov
- Please elaborate on her mother attending Mahoutokoro despite being Chinese. Does she live in Japan? This school only accepts Japanese citizens.
- You wrote that Sylvie grew up on the "Outskirts of France". Please indicate a specific city.
- Please indicate at what age your first instance of magic occurred. In addition, the bowstring hitting her face would not leave a lasting welt. Magical medicine would allow the injury to heal almost instantaneously.

STATUS:Pending, Célestine, 4 Nov
Please add when Sylvie with her family moved to France, prior to FIOM since you state that she was born in Hong-Kong

STATUS: Approved, Célestine, 4 Nov

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[/img]

STATUS: Pending, Célestine, 13 December 2024
- You are too tall for 12 years old. Please edit it.
- We accept all kinds of mental and physical disabilities on our Site. We only ask that you make sure to do your research when roleplaying a student who has this said mental or physical disability. Remember, we are all human behind our characters and we do not want to offend anyone. If you chose a disability that you do not understand well and/or may not be able to roleplay correctly, please eliminate it from your character's biography.
- Your biography has 193 words without fiom that you included there. Please add more words for it to be 220. When Clemmy was born? In which country she was born? Where did they get a house and stayed?
- In Beauxbatons you don't receive letter as you would in Hogwarts. Abraxan feather would appear and write invitation on any paper that was closest to it. Please edit it to adhere to lore.
- Please add age to first instance of magic and country where it happened.
- Please clarify how beetle was in her hands again: did she pick it up or she felt certain emotion and beetle levitated back to her hand?
- Your stats are equal to 30. As second year special race, you would have 35 in total. Please add 5 more stats.

STATUS: Pending, Célestine, 17 December
– You are still tall for 12 years old. Absolute maximum would be 5'4. Please edit it.
– Can you please clarify why Clemmy doesn't believe in magic at first? It makes little sense for pureblood to not know about it.
– Your stats currently equal to 34. Please edit 1 more to your stats.

STATUS: Closed, Célestine, 17 January
No edits have been made in 30 days.

STATUS: Pending, Célestine, 10 February
Please write your trunk in encyclopedia before we can review this application.

Pending, Fabian, 19-2-25
Please edit your first instance of magic to be accidental. As it is, Geneviève willed it to snow, which is a deliberate action. Accidental magic is an incident with zero intent behind it, either spurred on by strong emotion, dire circumstances, or is a random occurrence. Examples of accidental magic are sneezing bubbles, setting something on fire, causing an item to float.

Approved, Fabian, 19-2-25

Name: Akerrah Koné
School: Beauxbatons
Year: First
Link to your Character Page: Here
Status: Muggleborn
Picture:

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History:

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There was a deep magic in the Koné family, but it had been lost for many, many years—centuries in fact. It was an ancient magic associated with the peoples of the Ivory Coast. And it was raw and untamed.

But over time as the family and the country fell to the muggle tastes of colonization, this magic was lost as the French muggle way of life became the way of survival.

And so it was until the new millennium, when a girl was born in Paris to immigrants from the Ivory Coast would reawaken this deep magic. At first she seemed so very ordinary: average height and composure for a child. And there was no way to tell what magic lurked under her skin or why it would flower here after all this time—that was a question not even she knew the answer to as she would step into the resonant halls of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.

Akerrah Koné was raised in the 19th arrondissement of Paris by her parents, Fanta (née Yoboue) and Souleymane. A family of immigrants, they did not have much money. Her father worked at a local coffee shop during the day and drove a taxi at night while her mother taught French to other immigrant children. Now that she’s moved so far across the world, she had very little contact with her extended family—a hole in heart she’s never quite been able to fill.

Since experiencing bullying in school as well as the disorienting event of her first instance of magic, Akerrah has struggled as she’s grown to balance both her identities as an African woman as well as a French woman. The addition of a surprise acceptance from Beauxbatons has only added to her questions about her identify. Now, she has to figure out how magic fits in to all of that.

Akerrah has dark cocoa colored skin, warm brown eyes, and shoulder-length raven black hair. She is known for being cautious and intuitive, but kind. There is a timidness and vulnerability in her as she is still trying to figure out who she is. She hopes that Beauxbatons will not only help her to understand how magic works, but perhaps also a better understanding of herself and her history.

First Magic:

Reducio

Akerrah’s first instance of magic occurred around the age when she entered primary school or école primaire (about age 6) and was bullied for the color of her skin. As a child, she may only have registered this as general cruelty rather than through the nuance lens of race, but it sparked an involuntary emotional reaction all the same as she sent a pencil flying, lifting off into the air on its own, at the student who’d made the offending comment. There had been a flicker—a moment in her vision she didn’t understand—in which the pencil skirted the shoulder and hit a poster on the back wall. And when she blinked, that was where it was. Still just barely a schoolgirl, she knew not what this meant and did not speak of it.

Is your character a Broom Racer? No
Is your character a Quidditch Player? Yes! Seeker please and thank you.
Is your character a Duelist? No
Stats: Stamina: 7 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 0 | Wisdom: 8 | Arcane Power: 0 | Accuracy: 8
Special Race/Ability: Seer

Reducio

Over generations, much was lost. That is not just the ordinary magic that laid dormant in Akerrah as a witch, but something deeper. Long, long ago, the Koné and Youbue families held an even stronger gift: that of prophecy. Elders with the gift had to train hard to hone this skill using ancient techniques of Divination, rooted in the natural resources of the African continent. It was often not looked on positively to have inherited the gift as an untrained seer could easily become overwhelmed by the mental and emotional strain that came with their visions. Many became crippled with a sense of hopelessness as they were unable to prevent difficult situations from arising.

So, in an effort to keep seers safe, more and more had their gift repressed until it was all but forgotten. Seers were eschewed to the far reaches of society, but their descendants remained and the gift, however recessive, remained imprinted in family blood. This blood had large been ‘watered down’ as it were as generations married outside the tribes and even took muggles into their line. This was especially true as the indigenous peoples of the Ivory Coast were subjected to demands of French colonialism, which oppressed native cultures, including magic. In fact, hiding any and all evidence of magic became for many key means of survival.

It was only many, many decades later, when the blood of two families, each steeped long ago in this forgotten tradition, met that a seer, the first of many generations, was born.

Of course, Akerrah Koné did not know she was born with magic, let alone with the gift of sight. She believed, for all intents and purposes, that she was a girl—nothing more. And being a girl—being an immigrant girl—was difficult enough. When she’d let that pencil fly in an emotional reaction, it was not only a simple act of magic. There had been a flicker—a moment in her vision she didn’t understand—in which the pencil skirted the shoulder and hit a poster on the back wall. And when she blinked, that was where it was. Still just barely a schoolgirl, she knew not what this meant and did not speak of it.

After all, who could help? Her parents knew nothing of their ancient linage. And the social and economics pressures of immigrating to Paris took up all the space and time they had. And Akerrah knew that, at least as much as a child could. She wouldn’t disrupt their challenging, stressful lives for some moment that seemed a little odd, but could have been nothing—just a trick of the light, right?

Despite that, since then, there have been a few moments—barely a few seconds—when she felt herself let go like that. Akerrah knows not what it is and knows her parents don’t either. Perhaps at the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic she might learn the truth and how to control the gift. That, or she may just try to push it out of mind. But magic that deep always lives on somehow.

If special race/ability, how did they join the school? Akerrah would be accepted as a first year.

Please let me know if you need anything else. Many thanks!

EDIT 4/4: Included clarity on emotion in FIOM, added an age for FIOM, and updated seer word count to 506 words.

STATUS: Pending, Célestine, 4 April
- Please clarify that the pencil was sent flying in response to emotion, not intentionally.
- You wrote that age for first instance of magic is near the time she entered the school. Please clarify the age.
- Your seer application is only 382 words. Please add more information as it should be 500 words.

STATUS: Approved, Célestine, 5 April

 [center][img]/images/upload/496ngr.webp[/img][/center]
[quote][b][i]STATS[/i][/b] | stamina ◦ 7 | evasion ◦ 7 | strength ◦ 2 | wisdom ◦ 7 | arcane power ◦ 7 | accuracy ◦ 7

[center][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=33759&start=50#p1071962]X[/url] | [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=1124362#p1124362]X[/url] | X | [b][i]SPORT WINS[/i][/b] | X | X | X[/center]
[right]Race: [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=34602#p1074711]Werewolf[/url]
[I]werewolf form: bite and rend. heightened sense of smel[/i] | [I]terrible presence[/i][reducio]WC: 410/400
Phelan Emile couldn’t help but notice he was beginning to develop a sort of a reputation. He had always been a quiet boy, preferring to be by himself or with a few very close friends. When forced to socialize with children his age, he would smile, shyly, maybe introduce himself unprompted, but after that let others do the talking. But after his mother passed away when he was eight, he began to withdraw socially even more. He believed that no one could ever understand what he was going through, and eventually, that no one could understand him. He even thought this of his closest friends. His friends couldn’t always support him because they were all either homeschooled or didn’t go to the same school. Maybe he would have been able to get through the depression and feelings of isolation if not for the reactions he received from his peers, when he was teased when caught crying about his mother. He was also bullied at school because his peers considered him to be odd. He didn’t like sports, but preferred reading and collecting flowers during free time at school. He set up mental defenses and convinced himself he didn’t owe anything to anyone who didn’t care about him, and certainly not strangers.

His relationship with his father didn’t help. The man was very much like his son. Maybe it was for this reason that they didn’t often get along. Unfortunately for the boy, Severin Emile thought the best way to raise his son after his mother’s death was to practice ‘tough love’ . It came out too harsh for the grieving boy, and Phelan began to resent his father. He didn’t have a very good relationship with his father either, which may have been another source. Though Serverin was certainly not a blood purist, he thought it was important to raise his son like any wealthy pureblood, and Phelan often felt criticized by his father’s standards. 

Whereas he used to be seen as just shy and maybe a little strange, by the time he got to Beauxbatons, people had begun to actually avoid him. There was something about the way he never said a word, maybe the way he carried himself, that he had begun to realize scared people. In addition, he was rather impulsive and couldn’t help himself from saying whatever came to him, even if it was rude. At this point, the boy didn’t care. It was a vicious cycle. [/reducio] | [i]ability[/i][reducio][/reducio] | [i]ability[/i][reducio][/reducio] | [i]ability[/i][reducio][/reducio] | [i]ability[/i][reducio][/reducio] | [i]ability[/i][reducio][/reducio] | [b][i]ABILITIES[/i][/b][/right]

Is your character a Broom Racer? NO
Is your character a Quidditch Player? NO
Is your character a Duelist? YES[/quote]

STATUS: Approved werewolf application, Célestine, 11 April