Ilvermorny NPC
NPC Name: Elias Travers
Link: the luckiest duck
Year: Second Year
Stats: Current: Sta 8 \ Eva 8 \ Str 4 \ Wis 8 \ Arc 2 \ Acc 5
NEW: STA 9 \ Eva 8 \ Str 4 \ Wis 8 \ ARC 3 \ ACC 8
Abilities:
Ability:
's Grace
WC: 413/400
Extracurricular: none
Content Changes: N/A
Trunk Coding: none atm
Link: the luckiest duck
Year: Second Year
Stats: Current: Sta 8 \ Eva 8 \ Str 4 \ Wis 8 \ Arc 2 \ Acc 5
NEW: STA 9 \ Eva 8 \ Str 4 \ Wis 8 \ ARC 3 \ ACC 8
Abilities:
Ability:
's GraceWC: 413/400
Reducio
Elias is a lithe and slender boy, light in weight and on his feet compared to his peers. Through a lifetime of having to constantly be on his toes in case anything he couldn't hear coming snuck up on him, he's become as quiet as the silence that permeates his being.
On any average day in the Travers household, you will hear three types of footsteps: the loud, purposeful strides of Brendon and Lance, the quick pattering or tapping of Parker's urgent migration from kitchen to office, and the ever so soft footfalls of Elias. He oft wore socks, further muffling his steps to the point of almost perfect silence.
This proved problematic in several instances. While at school, it was oft hard for Lance to keep track of his charge, especially when Eli first transferred. A mop of brown hair, average height for a young boy, it didn't really stick out in the hordes of other elementary children. There was no distinctive voice or sound to follow either. If Elias hadn't been so sensitive to Lance's presence, the young man would have probably gone gray by now. While at home, Brendon and Parker would experience spikes in anxiety so often it would seem both had an anxiety disorder (which may be the case with Parker, but I digress) due to how often they simply couldn't find him. Calling his name was not their best option, nor could they simply listen out for him. He was simply a silent boy trapped in a bubble of noiselessness.
Over the winter holiday of 2023, this "talent" or quality of Elias came to extreme light. One would expect, even with a quiet lad such as himself, Elias' return would rock the temporary new world his parents had found themselves in since his acceptance and departure to Ilvermorny. One would expect them to hear his steps with new clarity, but he surprised them more than ever. He would enter the silent office of his mother as she poured over her QuickBooks and tap her on the shoulder, causing her to jump clear out of her chair before laughing and signing You sneak! You scared me!
In New York, it was doubly so. Both parents kept vigilant watch on the boy and tried to keep a physical connection, holding hands, a hand on the shoulder, whatever they could, at all times. They were terrified of an accidental slip away that would lose them their precious son forever.
On any average day in the Travers household, you will hear three types of footsteps: the loud, purposeful strides of Brendon and Lance, the quick pattering or tapping of Parker's urgent migration from kitchen to office, and the ever so soft footfalls of Elias. He oft wore socks, further muffling his steps to the point of almost perfect silence.
This proved problematic in several instances. While at school, it was oft hard for Lance to keep track of his charge, especially when Eli first transferred. A mop of brown hair, average height for a young boy, it didn't really stick out in the hordes of other elementary children. There was no distinctive voice or sound to follow either. If Elias hadn't been so sensitive to Lance's presence, the young man would have probably gone gray by now. While at home, Brendon and Parker would experience spikes in anxiety so often it would seem both had an anxiety disorder (which may be the case with Parker, but I digress) due to how often they simply couldn't find him. Calling his name was not their best option, nor could they simply listen out for him. He was simply a silent boy trapped in a bubble of noiselessness.
Over the winter holiday of 2023, this "talent" or quality of Elias came to extreme light. One would expect, even with a quiet lad such as himself, Elias' return would rock the temporary new world his parents had found themselves in since his acceptance and departure to Ilvermorny. One would expect them to hear his steps with new clarity, but he surprised them more than ever. He would enter the silent office of his mother as she poured over her QuickBooks and tap her on the shoulder, causing her to jump clear out of her chair before laughing and signing You sneak! You scared me!
In New York, it was doubly so. Both parents kept vigilant watch on the boy and tried to keep a physical connection, holding hands, a hand on the shoulder, whatever they could, at all times. They were terrified of an accidental slip away that would lose them their precious son forever.
Extracurricular: none
Content Changes: N/A
Trunk Coding: none atm
Approved June 8 (Lear)
Ilvermorny NPC
NPC Name: Stephen Nobler Schwartz
Link: To Infinity and Beyond!
Year: Fourth
Abilities: Muggle Condition (WC: 955/400)
Content Changes: Stephen is now pursuing a private, secondary curriculum taught to Muggles his age (his magical studies always come first!) through intensive tutoring while at home during breaks and long distance learning/tutoring while at school. His father agreed to it because his son had finally gotten through to him that his dream was to attend the Air Force Academy (USAFA) and later to become an astronaut. He saw no way to make that happen other than to plead for private Muggle tutoring along side his purely magical education at the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which is not exactly an accredited, let alone known, educational institution as far as the USAFA would be concerned. Stephen’s father agreed to the arrangement only so long as Stephen kept his grades up at Ilvermorny and made his magical studies his priority. This arrangement was made between Stephen and his father over Christmas break.
Trunk Coding: If approved, please paste following code below the 3rd Year Ability in his Trunk.
Thank you!!
Link: To Infinity and Beyond!
Year: Fourth
Abilities: Muggle Condition (WC: 955/400)
Reducio
Stephen’s third year studying magic had supercharged his desire to be able to pursue his dreams of one day becoming an astronaut. He had spent his first two years just finding his footing in the world of magic, and working to come to grips with the, mostly, unwelcome truths behind the realization that he, himself, was of magic.
He was a wickedly smart fellow. He was a pleasant guy to be around. But he was not at all like his Muggle friends at school when it came to the utter ecstasy or enthusiastic desire to explore his magic. He was here and doing so only because his father had left him no other choice but to do so. Stephen’s calm, serene, affable exterior more often than not belied the soul rending sadness and resentments that simmered deep below the surface when he thought about how his wants and desires had been so casually tossed to the side. His father had felt exploring this part of who he was, his magical side, was simply too much of a unique opportunity to pass by. He had actually told Stephen, out of honest ignorance, that becoming a wizard would be so much more rare and challenging than becoming an astronaut would ever be. That was simply not true, Stephen would find, after coming to Ilvermorny and learning that witches and wizards were everywhere. They were anything but rare, except to Muggles.
He wouldn’t deny the fact, however, that becoming a wizard didn’t present its fair share of challenges. It did. Yet even magic had its limitations, and frankly, some of those limitations were the very things that Muggles had succeeded brilliantly at overcoming.
Like leaving this beautiful blue marble and exploring space.
Stephen had always been a disciplined student and a disciplined athlete. He had excelled while at Ilvermorny because to ever give less than his best at anything he did was not hard coded into his DNA. That did not mean he necessarily liked the situation or was altogether happy, but after two years, he was starting to become a bit more resigned to his death sentence. And that is how he had thought of life at Ilvermorny; the death of his dreams and the death of a part of who he was. His father was so gung-ho and caught up on the magic side of things that he failed to really see, or maybe even care, that Stephen’s dreams were being decimated, leaving him no say in the matter. He was a dead man walking quite honestly, to himself if not necessarily to anyone else.
But that all changed in the autumn of his third year with a visit to Hogwarts, and he had a dear friend, EmmaLee LeDames, to thank for it. She showed him a plaque in an alcove at Hogwarts that explained the broken piece of broomstick above it had belonged to a witch named Selene Wartnaby. Selene was a third year student who had, foolishly in Stephen’s opinion, disappeared in front of her classmates after claiming she was going to apparate to the moon. She was never heard from again, which likely meant she had died, but just knowing that another maj even dared dreamed Stephen’s dream of apparating to the moon only served to re-stoke and reinforce his burning desires to pursue his Muggle dreams.
So he had been. He first started by researching all he could about Selene Wartnaby. That led to nowhere, really. She was not heard from again and likely came to a grisly end. So his focus then turned to what little information he could get his hands on about the possibility of ever being able to apparate to the moon. He bought every wizarding scientific journal and magazine he could get his hands with respect to Transfiguration, but they were all pretty surface level and nothing like the peer reviewed findings one might come across in the Muggle world. It became more clear to Stephen than ever that his magical side was not going to get him to his dreams. It would be his Muggle side.
When he went home over the 2023 winter break, he had it out with his father. They argued hard but Stephen, somehow, managed to get through to him. The result was a compromise. His father would hire a tutor and make all necessary arrangements to get books and materials to his son to get the equivalent of a Muggle, home-schooled preparatory education alongside his magical one. One that would, when the proper tests were taken, and passed, be accepted by the USAFA. His father insisted, however, that if his marks should slip or if it became too overwhelming for Stephen, their arrangement would be dissolved and all attention would then need to be channeled into his Ilvermorny studies.
The sense of relief and peace that washed over Stephen was incomparable to anything he had ever experienced in his life. It was never that he objected to being magical, but it was not the part of himself that most spoke to himself. It was his Muggle side. He would abide by his word to his father and keep his magical studies up. There was much about them that enhanced his understanding of the Muggle world anyway, so that would not be a problem. And as the kid in class who had always asked for more homework, this was going to be a dream come true. Well, not exactly. It was going to be ton of hard work, but that was fine by Stephen.
It was all designed to put him back on the path to making his biggest dreams come true, and in so doing, reintroducing him to his whole self once again.
He was a wickedly smart fellow. He was a pleasant guy to be around. But he was not at all like his Muggle friends at school when it came to the utter ecstasy or enthusiastic desire to explore his magic. He was here and doing so only because his father had left him no other choice but to do so. Stephen’s calm, serene, affable exterior more often than not belied the soul rending sadness and resentments that simmered deep below the surface when he thought about how his wants and desires had been so casually tossed to the side. His father had felt exploring this part of who he was, his magical side, was simply too much of a unique opportunity to pass by. He had actually told Stephen, out of honest ignorance, that becoming a wizard would be so much more rare and challenging than becoming an astronaut would ever be. That was simply not true, Stephen would find, after coming to Ilvermorny and learning that witches and wizards were everywhere. They were anything but rare, except to Muggles.
He wouldn’t deny the fact, however, that becoming a wizard didn’t present its fair share of challenges. It did. Yet even magic had its limitations, and frankly, some of those limitations were the very things that Muggles had succeeded brilliantly at overcoming.
Like leaving this beautiful blue marble and exploring space.
Stephen had always been a disciplined student and a disciplined athlete. He had excelled while at Ilvermorny because to ever give less than his best at anything he did was not hard coded into his DNA. That did not mean he necessarily liked the situation or was altogether happy, but after two years, he was starting to become a bit more resigned to his death sentence. And that is how he had thought of life at Ilvermorny; the death of his dreams and the death of a part of who he was. His father was so gung-ho and caught up on the magic side of things that he failed to really see, or maybe even care, that Stephen’s dreams were being decimated, leaving him no say in the matter. He was a dead man walking quite honestly, to himself if not necessarily to anyone else.
But that all changed in the autumn of his third year with a visit to Hogwarts, and he had a dear friend, EmmaLee LeDames, to thank for it. She showed him a plaque in an alcove at Hogwarts that explained the broken piece of broomstick above it had belonged to a witch named Selene Wartnaby. Selene was a third year student who had, foolishly in Stephen’s opinion, disappeared in front of her classmates after claiming she was going to apparate to the moon. She was never heard from again, which likely meant she had died, but just knowing that another maj even dared dreamed Stephen’s dream of apparating to the moon only served to re-stoke and reinforce his burning desires to pursue his Muggle dreams.
So he had been. He first started by researching all he could about Selene Wartnaby. That led to nowhere, really. She was not heard from again and likely came to a grisly end. So his focus then turned to what little information he could get his hands on about the possibility of ever being able to apparate to the moon. He bought every wizarding scientific journal and magazine he could get his hands with respect to Transfiguration, but they were all pretty surface level and nothing like the peer reviewed findings one might come across in the Muggle world. It became more clear to Stephen than ever that his magical side was not going to get him to his dreams. It would be his Muggle side.
When he went home over the 2023 winter break, he had it out with his father. They argued hard but Stephen, somehow, managed to get through to him. The result was a compromise. His father would hire a tutor and make all necessary arrangements to get books and materials to his son to get the equivalent of a Muggle, home-schooled preparatory education alongside his magical one. One that would, when the proper tests were taken, and passed, be accepted by the USAFA. His father insisted, however, that if his marks should slip or if it became too overwhelming for Stephen, their arrangement would be dissolved and all attention would then need to be channeled into his Ilvermorny studies.
The sense of relief and peace that washed over Stephen was incomparable to anything he had ever experienced in his life. It was never that he objected to being magical, but it was not the part of himself that most spoke to himself. It was his Muggle side. He would abide by his word to his father and keep his magical studies up. There was much about them that enhanced his understanding of the Muggle world anyway, so that would not be a problem. And as the kid in class who had always asked for more homework, this was going to be a dream come true. Well, not exactly. It was going to be ton of hard work, but that was fine by Stephen.
It was all designed to put him back on the path to making his biggest dreams come true, and in so doing, reintroducing him to his whole self once again.
Content Changes: Stephen is now pursuing a private, secondary curriculum taught to Muggles his age (his magical studies always come first!) through intensive tutoring while at home during breaks and long distance learning/tutoring while at school. His father agreed to it because his son had finally gotten through to him that his dream was to attend the Air Force Academy (USAFA) and later to become an astronaut. He saw no way to make that happen other than to plead for private Muggle tutoring along side his purely magical education at the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which is not exactly an accredited, let alone known, educational institution as far as the USAFA would be concerned. Stephen’s father agreed to the arrangement only so long as Stephen kept his grades up at Ilvermorny and made his magical studies his priority. This arrangement was made between Stephen and his father over Christmas break.
Trunk Coding: If approved, please paste following code below the 3rd Year Ability in his Trunk.
Reducio
Code: Select all
[quote][b][u]Muggle Condition – Year 4[/u][/b] [Reducio] Stephen’s third year studying magic had supercharged his desire to be able to pursue his dreams of one day becoming an astronaut. He had spent his first two years just finding his footing in the world of magic, and working to come to grips with the, mostly, unwelcome truths behind the realization that he, himself, was of magic. He was a wickedly smart fellow. He was a pleasant guy to be around. But he was not at all like his Muggle friends at school when it came to the utter ecstasy or enthusiastic desire to explore his magic. He was here and doing so only because his father had left him no other choice but to do so. Stephen’s calm, serene, affable exterior more often than not belied the soul rending sadness and resentments that simmered deep below the surface when he thought about how his wants and desires had been so casually tossed to the side. His father had felt exploring this part of who he was, his magical side, was simply too much of a unique opportunity to pass by. He had actually told Stephen, out of honest ignorance, that becoming a wizard would be so much more rare and challenging than becoming an astronaut would ever be. That was simply not true, Stephen would find, after coming to Ilvermorny and learning that witches and wizards were everywhere. They were anything but rare, except to Muggles. He wouldn’t deny the fact, however, that becoming a wizard didn’t present its fair share of challenges. It did. Yet even magic had its limitations, and frankly, some of those limitations were the very things that Muggles had succeeded brilliantly at overcoming. [i]Like leaving this beautiful blue marble and exploring space.[/i] Stephen had always been a disciplined student and a disciplined athlete. He had excelled while at Ilvermorny because to ever give less than his best at anything he did was not hard coded into his DNA. That did not mean he necessarily liked the situation or was altogether happy, but after two years, he was starting to become a bit more resigned to his death sentence. And that is how he had thought of life at Ilvermorny; the death of his dreams and the death of a part of who he was. His father was so gung-ho and caught up on the magic side of things that he failed to really see, or maybe even care, that Stephen’s dreams were being decimated, leaving him no say in the matter. He was a dead man walking quite honestly, to himself if not necessarily to anyone else. But that all changed in the autumn of his third year with a visit to Hogwarts, and he had a dear friend, EmmaLee LeDames, to thank for it. She showed him a plaque in an alcove at Hogwarts that explained the broken piece of broomstick above it had belonged to a witch named Selene Wartnaby. Selene was a third year student who had, foolishly in Stephen’s opinion, disappeared in front of her classmates after claiming she was going to apparate to the moon. She was never heard from again, which likely meant she had died, but just knowing that another maj even dared dreamed Stephen’s dream of apparating to the moon only served to re-stoke and reinforce his burning desires to pursue his Muggle dreams. So he had been. He first started by researching all he could about Selene Wartnaby. That led to nowhere, really. She was not heard from again and likely came to a grisly end. So his focus then turned to what little information he could get his hands on about the possibility of ever being able to apparate to the moon. He bought every wizarding scientific journal and magazine he could get his hands with respect to Transfiguration, but they were all pretty surface level and nothing like the peer reviewed findings one might come across in the Muggle world. It became more clear to Stephen than ever that his magical side was not going to get him to his dreams. It would be his Muggle side. When he went home over the 2023 winter break, he had it out with his father. They argued hard but Stephen, somehow, managed to get through to him. The result was a compromise. His father would hire a tutor and make all necessary arrangements to get books and materials to his son to get the equivalent of a Muggle, home-schooled preparatory education alongside his magical one. One that would, when the proper tests were taken, [u]and passed[/u], be accepted by the USAFA. His father insisted, however, that if his marks should slip or if it became too overwhelming for Stephen, their arrangement would be dissolved and all attention would then need to be channeled into his Ilvermorny studies. The sense of relief and peace that washed over Stephen was incomparable to anything he had ever experienced in his life. It was never that he objected to being magical, but it was not the part of himself that most spoke to himself. It was his Muggle side. He would abide by his word to his father and keep his magical studies up. There was much about them that enhanced his understanding of the Muggle world anyway, so that would not be a problem. And as the kid in class who had always asked for more homework, this was going to be a dream come true. Well, not exactly. It was going to be ton of hard work, but that was fine by Stephen. It was all designed to put him back on the path to making his biggest dreams come true, and in so doing, reintroducing him to his whole self once again. [/reducio][/quote]
Thank you!!
Approved June 8 (Lear)
Ilvermorny NPC
NPC Name: Cyrus Darsel
Link:
Year: Graduating to Seventh
Stats: +5 from graduation, +2 from Quidditch wins
Old stats:
Abilities: Year 7 ability: wandmaker
WC: 856/400
Disclaimer: The RP is forward-dated to summer 2024 ─ whichever month is not summer camp. Application in reducio.
Extracurricular: Remaining as a duellist
Content Changes: n/a
Trunk Coding: in reducio
koko riddle · 'pour yourself a drink, put on some lipstick, and pull yourself together.'
Link:
Year: Graduating to Seventh
Stats: +5 from graduation, +2 from Quidditch wins
Old stats:
Reducio
New stats:Stamina: 10 · Evasion: 10 · Strength: 10 · Arcane Power: 17 · Accuracy: 10 · Wisdom: 10
Reducio
Changes: +7 to accuracyStamina: 10 · Evasion: 10 · Strength: 10 · Arcane Power: 17 · Accuracy: 17 · Wisdom: 10
Abilities: Year 7 ability: wandmaker
WC: 856/400
Disclaimer: The RP is forward-dated to summer 2024 ─ whichever month is not summer camp. Application in reducio.
Reducio
Cyrus had, not once in his life, been the most responsible young man. Many times, he had lost his wand, and he often fidgeted with it when he got restless. Sometimes, he left it in his pocket and nearly snapped it.
It seemed that luck would not always be on his side, because, one fateful day in the summer of 2024, Cyrus had gone to a bonfire party with his aunt, and his wand had mysteriously ended up as some kindling. He had searched for it only to realise it was on fire by the time it was too late. He was inconsolable for days, sobbing himself to sleep. What type of wizard was he without a wand?
His Aunt Teresa grew tired of having a panicked seventeen-year-old in her house, so she told him to pack up for London. They were going to go to Ollivanders.
'I got my wand from Ollivanders back in the day, and it hasn't broken. If there's a wand you won't break, it'll be from there,' she had said.
He was a sleep-deprived boy when they arrived in Diagon Alley by floo the next morning, and when his aunt took him to Ollivanders for a ‘wand he would not dare to lose’, he groggily followed behind her. They entered the wand shop, and Cyrus found that he dwarfed many younger children, most of whom were probably around eleven. He waved at a few children, the fact that he was around people (and perhaps the mug of tea in his left hand) helping to wake him up. He apparently did not seem so harmless, as he spooked one boy who was trying out what had to be his hundredth wand.
When it was his turn, he stood idly as his wand arm was measured. He began trying to make small talk with Ollivander ─ he did, in fact, ask how the weather was ─ before his aunt silenced him with a well-timed side-eye.
‘Try this,’ said Ollivander, handing the teenager a box. ‘Fourteen centimetres, unyielding, rosewood with dragon heartstring.’
The words meant little to the exhausted teenager. The American opened the box and waved the wand inside. Nothing of note occurred, but Ollivander shook his head. ‘Absolutely not,’ he said, and he handed Cyrus a different box. ‘Twenty-four centimetres, reasonably supple, larch wood with unicorn hair.’ He watched as the boy picked up the wand. ‘Larch wood prefers wizards who lack confidence.’
Cyrus dramatically waved the wand. ‘I think I’m pretty confident, Mr Ollivander,’ he said when the wand felt wrong in his hand. He couldn’t place the feeling, but something about it just wasn’t right. He waved it again and heard a small bang, although if that had resulted from his efforts, he wasn’t sure.
‘Right, of course. Then it might be this.’ Ollivander unboxed a rather long, bendy wand and handed the stick to Cyrus. The American gingerly took it. ‘Thirty-four centimetres, whippy, dogwood with phoenix feather.’ The wandmaker smiled at Cyrus. ‘The phoenix feather tends to choose particularly stubborn and enduring wizards, something you showed me when you wanted to keep searching for the perfect wand.’ He glanced at Teresa. ‘Your being here today highlights your tenacity.’
Cyrus took a moment to think about the older man’s words, and for once, he wished he could articulate a more eloquent response. All he managed to say was a quietly choked, ‘Huh.’
The more he thought about it, the more that part made sense. Although he didn’t always seem like a tenacious individual, he had pushed himself very far. He had learned how to split spells on his own, staying up night after night to exercise both his body and mind in pursuit of his goal. And he had done it ─ his tunnel vision had paid off. It had taken him until his sixth year to properly join Ilvermorny’s duelling team ─ but he had done it.
He definitely was more stubborn than he let on.
He waved the wand, and, inspired, he took a big step and opted to give his wandwork a small flourish. He remembered his assertion that magic was really just art, and now he was dancing. The wand whistled as he moved, making music to his choreography. He spun the wand over his knuckles, caught it between his thumb and forefinger, and took a bow.
‘Dogwood was definitely the right wood,’ said Ollivander drily, a smile on his lips.
‘What does that mean?’ Cyrus asked, setting the wand back in its box. He, too, was smiling.
‘Dogwood was loud ─ I’m certain you heard it, no?’
‘Ohh.’ Cyrus’s grin widened. ‘So my wand will make noise!?’ He paused, his hands flapping at his sides. He had called it his. He didn’t do that aloud, not ever. He glanced at the stick in the box ─ his partner. His partner. His wand.
‘I love noise,’ Cyrus said, a bit more softly. ‘I’ll keep it in good company, I promise. I’ll even sing to it.’ He leaned forward and began a rather awful humming rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
While he was occupied, his aunt took out her money and paid Ollivander. She turned to Cyrus and patted him on the shoulder before closing the wand’s box. ‘Happy early birthday, Cyrus. Now don’t break this one.’
Why does this wand fit Cyrus?
It seemed that luck would not always be on his side, because, one fateful day in the summer of 2024, Cyrus had gone to a bonfire party with his aunt, and his wand had mysteriously ended up as some kindling. He had searched for it only to realise it was on fire by the time it was too late. He was inconsolable for days, sobbing himself to sleep. What type of wizard was he without a wand?
His Aunt Teresa grew tired of having a panicked seventeen-year-old in her house, so she told him to pack up for London. They were going to go to Ollivanders.
'I got my wand from Ollivanders back in the day, and it hasn't broken. If there's a wand you won't break, it'll be from there,' she had said.
He was a sleep-deprived boy when they arrived in Diagon Alley by floo the next morning, and when his aunt took him to Ollivanders for a ‘wand he would not dare to lose’, he groggily followed behind her. They entered the wand shop, and Cyrus found that he dwarfed many younger children, most of whom were probably around eleven. He waved at a few children, the fact that he was around people (and perhaps the mug of tea in his left hand) helping to wake him up. He apparently did not seem so harmless, as he spooked one boy who was trying out what had to be his hundredth wand.
When it was his turn, he stood idly as his wand arm was measured. He began trying to make small talk with Ollivander ─ he did, in fact, ask how the weather was ─ before his aunt silenced him with a well-timed side-eye.
‘Try this,’ said Ollivander, handing the teenager a box. ‘Fourteen centimetres, unyielding, rosewood with dragon heartstring.’
The words meant little to the exhausted teenager. The American opened the box and waved the wand inside. Nothing of note occurred, but Ollivander shook his head. ‘Absolutely not,’ he said, and he handed Cyrus a different box. ‘Twenty-four centimetres, reasonably supple, larch wood with unicorn hair.’ He watched as the boy picked up the wand. ‘Larch wood prefers wizards who lack confidence.’
Cyrus dramatically waved the wand. ‘I think I’m pretty confident, Mr Ollivander,’ he said when the wand felt wrong in his hand. He couldn’t place the feeling, but something about it just wasn’t right. He waved it again and heard a small bang, although if that had resulted from his efforts, he wasn’t sure.
‘Right, of course. Then it might be this.’ Ollivander unboxed a rather long, bendy wand and handed the stick to Cyrus. The American gingerly took it. ‘Thirty-four centimetres, whippy, dogwood with phoenix feather.’ The wandmaker smiled at Cyrus. ‘The phoenix feather tends to choose particularly stubborn and enduring wizards, something you showed me when you wanted to keep searching for the perfect wand.’ He glanced at Teresa. ‘Your being here today highlights your tenacity.’
Cyrus took a moment to think about the older man’s words, and for once, he wished he could articulate a more eloquent response. All he managed to say was a quietly choked, ‘Huh.’
The more he thought about it, the more that part made sense. Although he didn’t always seem like a tenacious individual, he had pushed himself very far. He had learned how to split spells on his own, staying up night after night to exercise both his body and mind in pursuit of his goal. And he had done it ─ his tunnel vision had paid off. It had taken him until his sixth year to properly join Ilvermorny’s duelling team ─ but he had done it.
He definitely was more stubborn than he let on.
He waved the wand, and, inspired, he took a big step and opted to give his wandwork a small flourish. He remembered his assertion that magic was really just art, and now he was dancing. The wand whistled as he moved, making music to his choreography. He spun the wand over his knuckles, caught it between his thumb and forefinger, and took a bow.
‘Dogwood was definitely the right wood,’ said Ollivander drily, a smile on his lips.
‘What does that mean?’ Cyrus asked, setting the wand back in its box. He, too, was smiling.
‘Dogwood was loud ─ I’m certain you heard it, no?’
‘Ohh.’ Cyrus’s grin widened. ‘So my wand will make noise!?’ He paused, his hands flapping at his sides. He had called it his. He didn’t do that aloud, not ever. He glanced at the stick in the box ─ his partner. His partner. His wand.
‘I love noise,’ Cyrus said, a bit more softly. ‘I’ll keep it in good company, I promise. I’ll even sing to it.’ He leaned forward and began a rather awful humming rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
While he was occupied, his aunt took out her money and paid Ollivander. She turned to Cyrus and patted him on the shoulder before closing the wand’s box. ‘Happy early birthday, Cyrus. Now don’t break this one.’
Why does this wand fit Cyrus?
Reducio
Dogwood (54/50): Cyrus is loud. He has always been loud with a flair for the dramatic. He enjoys creative efforts, such as building, dancing and arts and crafts, and he also has a strong interest in fashion. His outfits stand out, making them aesthetically 'loud', and he has an affinity for anything colourful, loud or dramatic.
Phoenix feather (69/50): Cyrus is enduring. He is mostly friendless, but that doesn’t stop him from continuing trying to make friends. Even though he has never been the greatest at his schoolwork, he perseveres until he succeeds in his endeavours. Furthermore, he is also rather stubborn. Although he doesn't share his opinions much, he is strong in his moral compass, and he is not afraid to fight for what he believes in.
Length (34 cm) (67/50): A 34cm/13.39in wand is a long one, and Cyrus is tall. However, he is also 'big' in personality. He finds it very difficult to be quiet, and his presence often makes itself known. He is dramatic and views magic as a theatrical art, which is reflected in the manner of his spellcasting. He takes wide swishes and often ends each spell, once cast, with a spin.
Flexibility (Whippy) (73/50): Cyrus is adaptable and loves trying new things ─ sometimes to a fault. He rapidly switches back and forth between ideas, avoiding commitment to anything for too long, and he is accepting of most things. He accepted that there was a magical world, and he did so without dwelling on it too much, quickly disregarding the newness of it in favour of involving himself in this new world as much as he could.
Phoenix feather (69/50): Cyrus is enduring. He is mostly friendless, but that doesn’t stop him from continuing trying to make friends. Even though he has never been the greatest at his schoolwork, he perseveres until he succeeds in his endeavours. Furthermore, he is also rather stubborn. Although he doesn't share his opinions much, he is strong in his moral compass, and he is not afraid to fight for what he believes in.
Length (34 cm) (67/50): A 34cm/13.39in wand is a long one, and Cyrus is tall. However, he is also 'big' in personality. He finds it very difficult to be quiet, and his presence often makes itself known. He is dramatic and views magic as a theatrical art, which is reflected in the manner of his spellcasting. He takes wide swishes and often ends each spell, once cast, with a spin.
Flexibility (Whippy) (73/50): Cyrus is adaptable and loves trying new things ─ sometimes to a fault. He rapidly switches back and forth between ideas, avoiding commitment to anything for too long, and he is accepting of most things. He accepted that there was a magical world, and he did so without dwelling on it too much, quickly disregarding the newness of it in favour of involving himself in this new world as much as he could.
Extracurricular: Remaining as a duellist
Content Changes: n/a
Trunk Coding: in reducio
Reducio
Code: Select all
[center][img]/images/upload/pjn50p.webp[/img][/center]
[center][size=120][b]Stats:[/b][/size][/center][center]+9 to Stats from Quidditch wins: [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=40&t=8714&start=50#p149357]i[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=15344&start=180#p255616]ii[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=40&t=16400&p=269317#p269317]iii[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=19424&start=170#p373361]iv[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=23357&start=70#p522642]v[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=740216#p740216]vi[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=853518#p853518]vii[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=965079#p965079]viii[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=989812#p989812]ix[/url].
[b]Stamina:[/b] 10 · [b]Evasion:[/b] 10 · [b]Strength:[/b] 10 · [b]Wisdom[/b] 10 · [b]Arcane Power:[/b] 17 · [b]Accuracy:[/b] 17[/center]
[center][size=120][b]Extracurricular:[/b][/size][/center][center]Duellist[/center]
[center][size=120][b]Abilities:[/b][/size][/center][b]Year 1:[/b] Fearless
[reducio]Cyrus was the type of boy who was full of chaos; the type of boy who would answer the "if someone jumped off a cliff, would you?" as "absolutely". Cy would do anything to prove himself, and he began running around Manhattan at the young age of seven. His parents didn't care, and he feared nothing. The world didn't scare him, so he did as he pleased.
By the time his aunt and uncle became prominent figures in his life, Cyrus was used to doing things by himself. He made breakfast without fear of burning himself on the pan, although he needn't make lunch or dinner - his parents always ordered things for him. While the boy might have lived a moderately sheltered life - what child of businesspeople didn't? - he was lonely, and there was always a bundle of energy manifesting inside the child's heart, waiting to be set loose.
After ending school one day Cy came across a group of kids. They weren't usual schoolboys; he could see that from a single glance. Their beat-up leather jackets stood out in stark contrast to his school blazer, and the fact that some of them didn't wear shoes let Cyrus know he'd ventured into the "wrong area of town". They surrounded a much smaller boy, one that wasn't in Cyrus' year; no, he was quite a bit younger. This kid was maybe nine, if that.
Cy wasn't deterred; he wanted that child out of the situation. "Hey, idiots!" yelled the blond, only glancing down to make sure his duck-print shoelaces were tied. A brazen grin decorated his expression as he charged forward, imagining he was a knight in medieval times and that the other boy was a lass, or lad now that he thought about it, in distress. "Make way for the king!" he shouted, his words echoing around the alley.
Now, any other child would have noticed how stupid the plan was. With Cyrus, however, there really was no plan. He did things on impulse, having no fear of the consequences that might arise from his actions. Putting one foot in front of the other, he charged at the other kids, shoving one of them as hard as he could.
He wasn't quite strong enough to knock the kid over, but he got the group's attention away from the young'un and onto himself. "Get out of the way!" he whisper-yelled to the smaller boy, and he was pleased to see the other kid running out of the corner of his eye as he felt a blow land on his arm.
Cy hadn't been strong enough to fight off the kids, but it had been your average schoolboy fight - everyone got hurt, to some extent. When Cyrus returned home, a triumphant grin on his face, his aunt shot him a questioning glance as he flopped down on the couch, exhausted, and shouted "No Regrets!"
Because really, he had no regrets. The feel of adrenaline in his veins had been amazing, and he would do it again. Cy wasn't a wimp. In fact, one might call him fearless.[/reducio]
[b]Year 2:[/b] Obnoxiously Strong
[reducio]Cyrus always possessed an unmistakable amount of energy. In fact, it was one of his defining traits. His feet would always tap the floor during his Muggle classes, and his hands would [i]always[/i] be moving.
He couldn’t help it. He just had too much energy.
Since he didn’t have very many friends (he was simply an unapproachable lad sometimes. It may have been his parents; he didn’t know), he didn’t have people who would listen to his endless chatter about who knows what. His parents were always far too busy to listen to his ramblings, so he sat quietly and allowed his appendages to move as much as they liked.
After a particularly embarrassing visit to his aunt’s where he had shattered a glass while dancing as he put up the dishes, Aunt Teresa had shown him an advertisement for child memberships at a fitness centre down the street.
At first, Cyrus hadn’t been at all interested. He was perfectly fit, and he saw this… [i]flyer[/i]... as an insult to his amazing physique.
After thinking about it for a while, though, he asked his parents - who he had still lived with at the time - to sign him up. They obliged relatively quickly, probably glad to have to worry about him less, and he began to take classes.
He started out with swimming classes, but those didn’t really stick - Cyrus was already fast, and swimming didn’t really challenge him that much. The private lessons his parents had invested in made that certain.
He then went on to both weight lifting and kickboxing. He was interested in learning how to fight, both because his parents said it was something he should never learn and also because he was reminded of his favourite movie characters whenever he thought of it. Weights, though? He wanted to build up his muscles so that any fighting he learned would have an effect on whoever he used it against - not that he would attack anyone, of course.
As the years passed, Cyrus began to develop muscles, [i]real[/i] muscles. When he moved in with Aunt Teresa, he began to help around the house, and he easily surprised his aunt with how easily he could lift things. He got into fights more often, but usually to protect people [as mentioned in previous fearless app], and he changed from an annoying idiot who managed to [i]irritate[/i] bullies away to someone who could actually fend them off. He didn’t even have to punch them; he would flex his bicep and watch with a goofy grin as the spindly bully ran away from whatever younger kid they were bothering.
Cyrus was strong, but he was never [i]just[/i] strong. No, he was [i]obnoxiously[/i] strong.[/reducio]
[b]Year 3:[/b] Charmer
[reducio]Cyrus was always too much.
His parents sometimes thought it; he knew that. He didn’t mind, though. Often, he embraced it. After all, he was liked well enough, and ‘too much’ wasn’t always a bad thing.
He began to flaunt it - he would use his parents’ money to buy the most ridiculous things, such as his trademark duck-print garments or his designer jeans. He even bought a solid gold duck tie tack for his school uniform.
Things changed when he moved in with Aunt Teresa. She never thought he was too much, at least not openly.
This meant Cyrus needed to try [i]harder[/i]. He wore the most flamboyant clothes; he cut his hair into a mullet. These things never fazed Aunt Teresa, but when he went to school with a green mullet and a clown nose that squeaked, no one could stop looking at him. He was eventually sent to the headmaster’s office because he was distracting students during a test.
He received a letter from Ilvermorny the following year.
The headmaster, Lazarus Plott, was a good example in Cyrus’s mind. A very extravagant man, his mannerisms encouraged Cyrus. Cyrus grew even [i]more[/i] dramatic, into even [i]more[/i] of a class clown, until he was certain everyone would notice him.
The thing was, Cyrus didn’t know when to stop. Not by a long shot.
He dumbed himself down sometimes, trying to make people gawk. It worked, sometimes. He adopted ducks as his trademark even more, wearing them no matter what. No one would be able to look at a duck without thinking of him, nor would they be able to look at him without thinking of ducks.
He never felt the need to explain himself to anyone, although to a certain Thea Knott, he did try. ‘Regal,’ he had said about ducks, ‘strong.’ He had said they reminded him of himself, but was that true?
It was as true as he had wanted it to be, he supposed, because then maybe he could be seen as regal. He was strong. Right?
Maybe some people - Aunt Teresa - saw him as those things: elegant, regal and strong. Some others most certainly didn’t - namely his parents - but he had long since trained himself not to care. What others thought didn’t matter as long as they were thinking about him, as long as they were [i]noticing[/i] him, as long as he [i]meant[/i] something.
Cyrus was a [i]distraction[/i], and that, for now, was enough for him.[/reducio]
[b]Year 4:[/b] Impartial
[reducio]Cyrus’s Muggle teachers had always called him selfish, and for good reason. Cyrus simply didn’t care about others, or so it seemed. He was always flaunting his clothes, bragging about his wealth… Simply put, he seemed like a jerk.
Throughout the years, Cyrus had learned to only care about himself. He wasn’t necessarily self-centred - he was still [i]polite[/i] to others, after all - but he never complimented others’ appearances, never smiled without reason. One might have called him cunning had they not known that he never really had a plan in mind, that his ‘calculated’ smiles were really just his following social cues.
Because Cyrus wanted [i]himself[/i] to stand out, he tended not to notice when other people did, at least not unless they stood out more than he did, which was incredibly rare. Even the most brazen of people didn’t meet Cyrus’s standards. They had to be bold, flamboyant and witty, but they also had to possess a certain type of charm that wasn’t necessarily superficial in order to pique Cyrus’s interest - and even then, it was usually brief at best.
For example, the first person who had made Cyrus interested in them was none other than his Aunt Teresa. She was as unassuming as could be - petite, with lightly tanned skin and average features, but there was a certain kindness in her eyes that had interested him. Her nature was sweet, and she helped people without strings attached. Seeing a person so obviously good had interested Cyrus - she had not stood out. She was one with the crowd, but he was still interested in talking to her, in knowing more about her.
The only flamboyant person whose name Cyrus could easily remember was Headmaster Plott, AKA his role model. From afar, Cyrus watched in awe as the man made spectacles, and he hoped that one day he could do the same, that one day he would be powerful enough to. Once he surpassed Headmaster Plott’s abilities, something told him he would no longer feel the same level of awe. He [i]was[/i] pretty sure, however, that he would remember Headmaster Plott’s name, and not just because it was a name he heard daily as he roamed the halls of Ilvermorny. No, a role model was someone special, someone to be remembered.
He often remembered no one else.
He did remember Thea Knott, but she, like his Aunt Teresa, did not stick out in a crowd. She was shy and quiet, and that intrigued him. He was not distracted by pretty girls or pretty boys; he did not often raise his eyebrows at amateur wannabes of class clownery. He did not care what they were doing because their attempts at flamboyance could never match his own.
He really was quite impartial to those sorts of things.[/reducio]
[b]Year 5:[/b] Poison Resistance
[reducio]Cyrus has never been known for his intellect. In fact, to some, he is known for his [i]lack[/i] of brains. He does not make up for his lack of book smarts by any common sense. So far, he has managed to get by due to sheer brawn and laughter, but the day was bound to come when he would no longer be able to joke his way out of a nasty situation.
The summer before his fifth year, multiple instances challenged his ability to stay alive.
The first: cleaning.
Cyrus’s aunt made him get a summer job in order to gain a ‘work ethic’, whatever that was. Cyrus personally didn’t think he needed a job─after all, his parents and aunt were filthy rich. Nonetheless, his aunt deemed work ‘good for him’, so he looked at open positions. One was a janitorial position at a hotel, and he decided he might as well apply. He did not expect to be hired, but two weeks later, he received an email telling him he’d gotten the job.
Although Cyrus was trained on what every chemical did, he had never been the smartest. He had never had the greatest memory. He soon forgot which unlabelled bottle had what, so he tried to stick to the labelled bottles. However, when a sink didn’t clean itself fast enough, Cyrus glanced down at his cart full of soaps. He thought about every bottle and noted that vinegar could disinfect counters and bleach could whiten them, so if he mixed them together, the sink would be disinfected and whitened. His supervisors would be so proud!
He put the stopper in the sink and mixed the chemicals. His gloves were on, so he assumed there would be no problem. However, soon after he began to mix the chemicals, he started coughing and found it increasingly difficult to breathe. He stumbled around the bathroom for a bit, wheezing, before he remembered he had a phone (perks of being a no-maj born!) and quickly dialled his boss’s number as he fumbled his way out of the bathroom.
His boss dialled 911, and Cyrus didn’t remember much after that. He woke up in the hospital and was informed that his very not clever mixture had created chlorine gas, which was toxic to breathe in. The hotel had needed the gas removed from the floor he’d been on, and Cyrus’s clothes were no longer any good. His hospital gown wasn’t nearly as cool as his duck-themed T-shirt.
He was promptly fired from his job after that ordeal.
The second test of Cyrus’s will to live? Driving.
Since Cyrus had been sixteen for a while, his aunt decided it was high time he learned how to drive. His aunt took him up to Lake Placid, where she had a vacation home, and began to teach him how cars worked. One day, she was visiting some of her friends, and Cyrus thought it would be nice of him to bring the car to pick her up. He was pretty sure he had done everything right─the car was on, the mirrors were all in the right places, his seatbelt was on… But the car wouldn’t move. The garage door was still shut because he didn’t know where his aunt put the garage door opener.
He began to panic, looking through the glove box and the other compartments before realising that he had no idea at all where the opener was. And when he pressed the gas, the car still wouldn’t move.
Once again, he remembered he had his phone, and he called his aunt to ask, but his vision wavered, and he passed out.
Luckily, his aunt had gotten the garage door open, and she had called 911. He woke up at Adirondack Medical Center with an oxygen mask over his face. The doctors informed him that he had given himself carbon monoxide poisoning, and his aunt tiredly told him he had forgotten to take off the parking brake. The garage door opener had been on the kitchen counter this entire time.
Cyrus was okay, though, if not a bit shaken up by the entire ordeal. His body didn’t feel as weak as he had expected it to. In fact, a few weeks later, he swallowed mouthwash─completely by accident, he would tell his aunt, since he had genuinely forgotten that Listerine was not meant to be swallowed. She had stared at him in complete and utter exasperation before asking if she should call the Poison Control hotline. Cyrus thought about it, and although he knew he was probably making a mistake, he shook his head. He had swallowed a fair amount of mouthwash, but he felt fine.
Maybe, he thought, the poison caused by the chlorine gas and the carbon monoxide had hardened his body against the future clumsiness that would almost certainly come someday.[/reducio]
[b]Year 6:[/b] Spell Spread
[reducio]Cyrus had always had a bit of a dramatic flair. This was exemplified by his choice in clothes (duck-themed everything, often thousands of dollars worth) and his style of speech. However, Cyrus wanted to channel this into his magic as well.
He was not the best spellcaster. Even simple spells, like [i]Lumos[/i], tended to give him grief. But Cyrus wasn’t popular amongst his peers, and he wanted to defend himself if stolen rude glances and muttered [i]’Mudblood’[/i]s turned to something more serious.
Thus, Cyrus practised. He practised more than he thought he was able to, finally becoming familiar with the feeling of his wand in his hand. He read book after book until he thought maybe he could feel his brain cells multiplying─or perhaps that was just him being tired because it was three in the morning. He studied spell movements until his [i]Lumos[/i] was perfect most of the time. He practised evasive footwork, and sometimes he wished he had more friends who could throw things at him so he could evade even better.
His movements became precise, no longer a jumble of jittery motion but instead a dance-like agglomeration of knowledge. Cyrus was an actor, and his spellbooks made up his stage. He found himself imagining he was a conductor, waving his wand in precise movements to command an army of musicians, and that was when the thought came to him: he could [i]be[/i] an army.
Cyrus’s studies multiplied. Instead of learning about [i]how[/i] spells were performed, he learned about [i]why[/i] they were performed the way they were. Magic was an art, he realised, a type of performance not unlike singing or acting. And actors could play multiple parts. He read about spell theory and how one could focus one’s magic into a single spell, how spells would differ in their outcome depending on the person and their preferred style of casting despite ultimately being the same spell doing the same thing.
He also thought a lot. He thought about what one of the old Hogwarts professors had [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=8092#p123749]once told him[/url]: ‘Making more questions is a good thing, not a bad thing.’
He had lots of questions about magic. Where did it all come from? His parents didn’t have magic, and he wasn’t blood related to his aunt, so why did he? His uncle, also a no-Maj, was dead now, so he couldn’t ask his uncle about what coincidence might have made him have magic.
It didn’t matter now. He knew he had magic, and he hadn’t embraced it as much as he wished he had in retrospect. Cyrus began to attend classes in earnest, to write down notes on even the most arbitrary of things. He would be a proper wizard.
Gradually, his spells grew stronger. He learned how to channel his emotions into his spellcasting, yet keep them in check so he remained in control. He poured his grief over his uncle’s death, his repressed anger at his parents and his appreciation for his aunt into his spellcasting.
And then there was the real test. Cyrus had set up two dummies to practise on, and so far, his spells had only been able to hit one. His accuracy was fairly decent, and his spells packed a punch. But his ability to cast spells was never consistent. Cyrus hoped that after all of his studies, this might be better, so he thought long and hard and decided on a spell he’d known for a long time─flipendo.
Cyrus held out his wand and focused. He imagined his uncle alive and well, smiling and telling him he was proud. He imagined his aunt nodding at how he had grown. He imagined his parents happy with his existence, willing to look away from their work. He imagined his spell, fuelled by his heart, knocking both of the dummies over.
Then he waved his wand and said the word. [i][b]’Flipendo.’[/b][/i]
It took a moment, as if his magic were hesitating, and Cyrus thought for a second that all of his studying had been for nothing. But he watched with wide eyes, willing to have patience, and he heard a satisfying [i]plonk[/i] as the dummies fell to the ground.[/reducio]
[b]Year 7:[/b] Wandmaker ─ 34 cm, Dogwood with Phoenix Feather core, whippy
[reducio]Cyrus had, not once in his life, been the most responsible young man. Many times, he had lost his wand, and he often fidgeted with it when he got restless. Sometimes, he left it in his pocket and nearly snapped it.
It seemed that luck would not always be on his side, because, one fateful day in the summer of 2024, Cyrus had gone to a bonfire party with his aunt, and his wand had mysteriously ended up as some kindling. He had searched for it only to realise it was on fire by the time it was too late. He was inconsolable for days, sobbing himself to sleep. What type of wizard was he without a wand?
His Aunt Teresa grew tired of having a panicked seventeen-year-old in her house, so she told him to pack up for London. They were going to go to Ollivanders.
[b]'I got my wand from Ollivanders back in the day, and it hasn't broken. If there's a wand you won't break, it'll be from there,'[/b] she had said.
He was a sleep-deprived boy when they arrived in Diagon Alley by floo the next morning, and when his aunt took him to Ollivanders for a ‘wand he would not dare to lose’, he groggily followed behind her. They entered the wand shop, and Cyrus found that he dwarfed many younger children, most of whom were probably around eleven. He waved at a few children, the fact that he was around people (and perhaps the mug of tea in his left hand) helping to wake him up. He apparently did not seem so harmless, as he spooked one boy who was trying out what had to be his hundredth wand.
When it was his turn, he stood idly as his wand arm was measured. He began trying to make small talk with Ollivander ─ he did, in fact, ask how the weather was ─ before his aunt silenced him with a well-timed side-eye.
[b]‘Try this,’[/b] said Ollivander, handing the teenager a box. [b]‘Fourteen centimetres, unyielding, rosewood with dragon heartstring.’[/b]
The words meant little to the exhausted teenager. The American opened the box and waved the wand inside. Nothing of note occurred, but Ollivander shook his head. [b]‘Absolutely not,’[/b] he said, and he handed Cyrus a different box. [b]‘Twenty-four centimetres, reasonably supple, larch wood with unicorn hair.’[/b] He watched as the boy picked up the wand. [b]‘Larch wood prefers wizards who lack confidence.’[/b]
Cyrus dramatically waved the wand. [b]‘I think I’m pretty confident, Mr Ollivander,’[/b] he said when the wand felt wrong in his hand. He couldn’t place the feeling, but something about it just wasn’t right. He waved it again and heard a small bang, although if that had resulted from his efforts, he wasn’t sure.
[b]‘Right, of course. Then it might be this.’[/b] Ollivander unboxed a rather long, bendy wand and handed the stick to Cyrus. The American gingerly took it. [b]‘Thirty-four centimetres, whippy, dogwood with phoenix feather.’[/b] The wandmaker smiled at Cyrus. [b]‘The phoenix feather tends to choose particularly stubborn and enduring wizards, something you showed me when you wanted to keep searching for the perfect wand.’[/b] He glanced at Teresa.[b] ‘Your being here today highlights your tenacity.’ [/b]
Cyrus took a moment to think about the older man’s words, and for once, he wished he could articulate a more eloquent response. All he managed to say was a quietly choked,[b] ‘Huh.’[/b]
The more he thought about it, the more that part made sense. Although he didn’t always seem like a tenacious individual, he had pushed himself very far. He had learned how to split spells on his own, staying up night after night to exercise both his body and mind in pursuit of his goal. And he had done it ─ his tunnel vision had paid off. It had taken him until his sixth year to properly join Ilvermorny’s duelling team ─ but he had done it.
He definitely was more stubborn than he let on.
He waved the wand, and, inspired, he took a big step and opted to give his wandwork a small flourish. He remembered his assertion that magic was really just art, and now he was dancing. The wand whistled as he moved, making music to his choreography. He spun the wand over his knuckles, caught it between his thumb and forefinger, and took a bow.
[b]‘Dogwood was definitely the right wood,’[/b] said Ollivander drily, a smile on his lips.
[b]‘What does that mean?’[/b] Cyrus asked, setting the wand back in its box. He, too, was smiling.
[b]‘Dogwood was loud ─ I’m certain you heard it, no?’[/b]
[b]‘Ohh.’[/b] Cyrus’s grin widened. [b]‘So my wand will make noise!?’[/b] He paused, his hands flapping at his sides. He had called it his. He didn’t do that aloud, not ever. He glanced at the stick in the box ─ his partner. His partner. His wand.
[b]‘I love noise,’[/b] Cyrus said, a bit more softly. [b]‘I’ll keep it in good company, I promise. I’ll even sing to it.’[/b] He leaned forward and began a rather awful humming rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
While he was occupied, his aunt took out her money and paid Ollivander. She turned to Cyrus and patted him on the shoulder before closing the wand’s box. [b]‘Happy early birthday, Cyrus. Now don’t break this one.’[/b]
Why does this wand fit Cyrus?
[reducio]Dogwood (54/50): Cyrus is loud. He has always been loud with a flair for the dramatic. He enjoys creative efforts, such as building, dancing and arts and crafts, and he also has a strong interest in fashion. His outfits stand out, making them aesthetically 'loud', and he has an affinity for anything colourful, loud or dramatic.
Phoenix feather (69/50): Cyrus is enduring. He is mostly friendless, but that doesn’t stop him from continuing trying to make friends. Even though he has never been the greatest at his schoolwork, he perseveres until he succeeds in his endeavours. Furthermore, he is also rather stubborn. Although he doesn't share his opinions much, he is strong in his moral compass, and he is not afraid to fight for what he believes in.
Length (34 cm) (67/50): A 34cm/13.39in wand is a long one, and Cyrus is tall. However, he is also 'big' in personality. He finds it very difficult to be quiet, and his presence often makes itself known. He is dramatic and views magic as a theatrical art, which is reflected in the manner of his spellcasting. He takes wide swishes and often ends each spell, once cast, with a spin.
Flexibility (Whippy) (73/50): Cyrus is adaptable and loves trying new things ─ sometimes to a fault. He rapidly switches back and forth between ideas, avoiding commitment to anything for too long, and he is accepting of most things. He accepted that there was a magical world, and he did so without dwelling on it too much, quickly disregarding the newness of it in favour of involving himself in this new world as much as he could.[/reducio][/reducio]Approved June 8 (Lear)
Please link your character's encyclopedia, the process of approvals is time-consuming and giving us this link is not only mandated but significantly impacts the workload of approvals.
koko riddle · 'pour yourself a drink, put on some lipstick, and pull yourself together.'
'it always starts and ends with birds.' · cyrus darsel
Ilvermorny NPC
NPC Name: Stephen Nobler Schwartz
Link: To Infinity and Beyond!
Year: Fourth
Sport: Was asked to state for papertrail purposes that Stephen would like to fill the Chaser position on the Ilvermorny Quidditch team. He had been on Broom Racing team and was waitlisted on Quidditch.
Thank You!!!
APPROVED - Marcus, June 10
Link: To Infinity and Beyond!
Year: Fourth
Sport: Was asked to state for papertrail purposes that Stephen would like to fill the Chaser position on the Ilvermorny Quidditch team. He had been on Broom Racing team and was waitlisted on Quidditch.
Thank You!!!
APPROVED - Marcus, June 10
Ilvermorny NPC
NPC Name: Andrew Lycan
Link: here
Year: Going into Sixth
Stats:Abilities:
ApplicationFifth Year Ability- Wandmaker
ReducioAre you a wandmaker? No, not at all but someone in your life is or was. You have either come upon some big money and acquired a very particular wand or you have been gifted a wand, perhaps from a distant family member. You have a new wand, one that truly has chosen you. Or perhaps the wand that you first came across in Ollivander's has bonded with you deeply. Regardless of the reasoning, the link that you have with your wand is much stronger than that of a typical wizard.
Restriction: None
Effect: You get a new wand, this will be updated on your profile by an administrator (please contact a Head of House or the Headmaster once this ability has been approved) one and only one time with this ability. You cannot purchase this ability more than once and get multiple wands or derive the beneficial effect of more than one wand.
Wood Flavor/Effects:
ReducioFlavor: Users of this wand when casting spells tend to instill less terror and more trust in their allies that right will be done by them. Enemies do not share this sentiment.
Core Flavor/Effects:
ReducioFlavor: When their owner is passionate about something, the spells that successfully go off tend to be more dramatic. There is often audible explosions, brighter lights, whooshing sound effects. This is an example of this core's characteristic flamboyance.
Effects:
• Dragon Like Power: +3 to arcane power when casting spells with this wand.
• Accident Prone: 5% chance that the intended spell will rebound on the caster. Non-targeted spells such as counters, healing, and some utility spells that have no target or are self-targeting cannot rebound. This is not prevented by the Perfectionist ability.
ReducioEver since his parents had been taken to Azkaban, Drew was determined to prove their innocence. His father worked for law enforcement, for goodness' sake- how could he do something so horrible to end up in Azkaban?
The only helpful thing that he was able to find was his father's journal, which he felt guilty reading. Thankfully, and helping him feel less guilty, it rarely had emotional entries- most were related to his job, or projects, or notes he jotted down. But in reading the many entries of the journal, he had just gotten to a part where his father mentioned "the box." According to the entries, the box was a gift from Drew's grandfather- his mother's father. It was long, narrow, and black, with golden accents and no information on how to open it.
Drew found this box intriguing, and scanned the journal for any mentions of it. Even if it didn't have anything to do with the search for his parents, it was interesting nevertheless.
Spell after spell, through all his father's research, and even potions on occasion, Alexander Lycan could not find out how to open the box.
Drew sat back in his seat. The box had to be in here somewhere. He put the journal down on the desk, and with the description in mind, started looking in all the drawers of his father's desk. He tried to leave everything where he found it, but if his father ever sat in this desk again, he would definitely know that Drew had gone through it- the blonde was not a careful or dainty type.
And then, he found it. It had to be the same box- it fit the description perfectly. A black wooden box with golden accents, long and narrow. Drew placed it on the desk, looking at it.
He squinted at the box. "What are you?" he asked.
Then, the box opened, the top half peeling back as if on hinges.
"That's your grandfather's wand," he heard a voice say.
Drew jumped, turning in his chair to see his grandmother. His relationship with his grandmother was slightly tense ever since she had kept from him that his parents were in Azkaban, but he refused to dwell on it too much, especially since he was so engrossed in his search for his parents. "What?" he asked.
She entered the room, standing next to him as they both looked at the box. She was right- a wand lay within the box. "It used to be your grandfather's. It was in his will to your father after he died, but Alexander could never figure out how to open it. How did you do it?" she asked, in awe.
"I... I didn't. I just found it and put it down."
"English Oak and Romanian Longhorn Dragon Heartstring," Lucianna said. "Twelve inches, and flexible. He had it personally made for him. English Oak favors the strong, loyal and courageous. It chooses casters with intuition and an affinity with creatures and plants. It must have chosen... you."
The wand did chose him. He picked it up, analyzing it.
English Oak favored the strong, brave, and loyal. Drew was strong, not only physically, but in his emotional capacity. He always stood up for a friend, even if it got him in trouble. Even his first instance of magic was protecting a friend from a bully. He was brave, almost to a fault, often diving headfirst into things, even when they were dangerous. (There were numerous times when broom racing that he probably should have slowed down to get past an obstacle, but was convinced he could get through. It probably wasn't the best idea at the time, but it definitely proved his bravery.) And though he never was the best at school, Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures were two of his favorite classes. He always thought it was because they were more hands-on classes than lecture classes, but now that he thought about it, he probably did have an affinity for the natural world. Not to mention his bond with his dog, Buddy.
As for Dragon Heartstring, which favored powerful wizards, Drew supposed this suited him much more than any other wand core. Unicorn Tail Hair wands were consistent, and Phoenix Feather wands produced a variety of spells, but Dragon Heartstring focused more on power. Drew, always more prone to large and impressive spells rather than complicated and specific ones, he cared much more about power than variety or consistency. That may have also been why he chose broom racing rather than dueling or Quidditch- dueling took too much variety of spells and consistency, and Quidditch had too many rules. He would much rather just get on a broom and use his strength and power. Romanian Longhorns were bold and stubborn, and those traits were reflected in Drew. Like his search for his parents, he refused to give up on anything he put his mind to, even if it meant doing horrendous things like researching.
It was longer for a wand, though not an absurd length. This also was appropriate for Drew- shorter wands favored the refined, and longer wands preferred the flamboyant and dramatic. Loving to joke around with his friends, over-exaggerating most situations for humor, and enjoying flamboyant shows of arcane power and strength, a longer wand made more sense for Drew. Perhaps more length held more power, as opposed to more concentrated power, or perhaps this was just one of the mysterious qualities of wands, but it felt good as he turned it over in his hand. The length made it the perfect length in his hand- as he held it, the balance point was perfect.
Though it didn't bend in his hand, it wasn't solid either- he would describe it as flexible. Drew tried to be a friendly and open-minded person, never wanting to be so set in his ways that he missed out or was seen as cruel, but he could also be quite stubborn when it came to things that he was determined about. So he supposed even the nature of flexibility of the wood suited him- not too bendy to be a doormat, not too rigid to never admit he was wrong.
"Well? Give it a swish," Drew's grandmother encouraged.
Drew glanced to her, and then back to the wand. "Maybe you should stand back a little?"
She did step back, though she didn't look scared in the slightest. Seeing as the wand had already seemed to have chosen him by allowing the enchanted box to open, she must have doubted that anything crazy would have happened by testing the wand out.
He gave it a swish, and the entire room seemed to light up from the wand, making a low humming sound. He even felt his feet lifting off the ground slightly. As the wand's reaction died down, he turned to his grandmother. "I suppose that means it did choose me. But... why didn't it open itself to my father? He's strong, and brave, and loyal, and everything you said."
His grandmother shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not sure. But as a very wise wizard once said, the wand chooses the wizard. You may keep it, if you like. Just be careful- it is quite powerful, and you may have bigger results than you originally hope for."
Drew nodded. "Thank you," he said, sitting back down in the office chair of his father, and admiring his new wand.
Word Count: 1244
Length: 12 inches/30.48cm (Word Count: 103)
Flexibility: Flexible (Word Count: 73)
Wood: English Oak (Word Count: 157)
Core: Dragon Heartstring - Romanian Longhorn (Word Count: 110)
OOC Note: His parents are not truly in Azkaban, this is just what he has been led to believe. The words included in the word count for each component of the wand are underlined.
Extracurricular: Broom Racer (not a change)
Content Changes: n/a
Trunk Coding: doesn't truly matter, the ability can just be left consistent with the others.
Pending - This is more for my own understanding than anything. Why does he believe his parents are in Azkaban? He is an American and Azkaban is a British prison. Please add some clarification to the application for those who haven't kept up with your threads. Magdalena 16 June 2024
APPROVED - Marcus Iwasaki, June 20
Ilvermorny NPC
NPC Name: Stephen Nobler Schwartz
Link to iNPC page: Liftoff!
Year: Fourth
Stats: Adding 1 stat point due to Hufflepuff's Broom Race win from Spring 2024
Old: Sta:10 || Eva:13 || Str:8 || Wis:11 || ArcP:5 || Acc:7
New: Sta:10 || Eva:13|| Str:8 || Wis:11] || ArcP:5 || Acc: 8
Proof: Addition of Hufflepuff’'s Broom Racing win from Spring 2024 found here.
Trunk Coding: Please copy and paste the code below to replace the "Stats" section, essentially deleting and replacing everything out above "Abilities" section- the only thing changed in the Code from my current Trunk is the addition of the Stat point listed above.
Thank you!!!
Link to iNPC page: Liftoff!
Year: Fourth
Stats: Adding 1 stat point due to Hufflepuff's Broom Race win from Spring 2024
Old: Sta:10 || Eva:13 || Str:8 || Wis:11 || ArcP:5 || Acc:7
New: Sta:10 || Eva:13|| Str:8 || Wis:11] || ArcP:5 || Acc: 8
Proof: Addition of Hufflepuff’'s Broom Racing win from Spring 2024 found here.
Trunk Coding: Please copy and paste the code below to replace the "Stats" section, essentially deleting and replacing everything out above "Abilities" section- the only thing changed in the Code from my current Trunk is the addition of the Stat point listed above.
Code: Select all
[quote][center][size=200][b][u]Stats[/u][/b][/size][/center] [quote][center][size=125]Sta:10 || Eva:13 || Str:8 || Wis:11 || ArcP:5 || Acc:8[/size][/center] [center][size=90](+3) from Dueling wins: [b][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=23526&start=50#p566826] 1[/url][/b] | [b][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=25096&start=40#p673369] 2 [/url][/b] | [b] [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=740079#p740079] 3 [/url] [/b] and (+2) from Broom Racing wins: [b][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=31051&start=90#p968485]1[/url][/b] | [b][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=998550#p998550] 2 [/url][/b][/size] [/center][/quote]
Thank you!!!
APPROVED - Marcus Iwasaki, June 20
Ilvermorny NPC
NPC Name: Tina Parker
Link: viewtopic.php?p=367231&hilit=Tina+Parker#p367231
Year: 6th Year
Stats:
Strength: 2 (+2) = 4
Accuracy: 9 (+2) = 11
Evasion: 10 (+1) = 11
Stamina: 7 (+4) = 11
Wisdom = 3 (+3) = 6
Arcane Power = 14 (+3) = 17
Abilities:
(Will add new abilities for different years later)
Advanced Caster:
Extracurricular: Dueling
Content Changes: Adding things from her fourth and fifth years in Ilvermorny and what exactly happened to Tina in the span of two years and eventually I will add her sixth and seventh years.
Trunk Coding:
What it looks like:
"Do not pity the dead... pity the living. And above all those who live without love." Albus Dumbledore -
Jacob Harman
INPC: Tina Parker
Link: viewtopic.php?p=367231&hilit=Tina+Parker#p367231
Year: 6th Year
Stats:
Strength: 2 (+2) = 4
Accuracy: 9 (+2) = 11
Evasion: 10 (+1) = 11
Stamina: 7 (+4) = 11
Wisdom = 3 (+3) = 6
Arcane Power = 14 (+3) = 17
Abilities:
(Will add new abilities for different years later)
Advanced Caster:
Reducio
It is a warm summer day at Ilvermorny, and Tina is trying to become more advanced in her spell-casting. She was in a week's worth of detention, this is because she had been through an entire duel throughout the second-floor corridor near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom when the professor was nearby; this would be bad for some but worse for Tina as Tina was well-known to have been in trouble with the professors multiple times throughout two years of school, Tina was rebellious even when she was eleven years old. Due to her getting so many detentions, Tina became so proficient in her school work and spell-casting that it became second nature that Tina would eventually break something because Tina was defending others; Tina was so unafraid of others, even bullies, that she forgot to be frightened of other people and always stood up to bullies and pure-blood maniacs wherever the situation allowed. In fact, she was used to getting detentions because Tina always got into duels in the castle's corridors. She is trying to use the Mending Charm on a window. Because I was in a duel with another student. She had gotten so many detentions that it practically became second nature that at least one person who bullied another was in for a beating with spells whenever she was near. She caused so much destruction in the corridors because she had proficiency in spell-casting; this was shown on the first day she began dueling in her second year. She performed the Disarming Charm so effectively that she got the wand straight into Tina's Hand. The Professors thought it would be an excellent lesson to teach this rebellious by repairing a wall that she had broken due to the duel between her and a bully from Thunderbird house, which is meant to be the bravest and the strongest of all of the houses and would most likely be in Gryffindor house due to her reading Hogwarts, a history when she bought it in Diagon Alley when she visited England during summer vacation. So she got to work, so Tina pulled her wand straight to the right and left, then drew downward slightly. Then, creating a small line, her wand turned upward to the left with a final short line to the right, creating what looked like an upside-down "G." it worked. She drew the movement perfectly, and it repaired much faster than it otherwise would have. When she repaired the window, she destroyed it, her detention was over, and she could return to classes.
Extracurricular: Dueling
Content Changes: Adding things from her fourth and fifth years in Ilvermorny and what exactly happened to Tina in the span of two years and eventually I will add her sixth and seventh years.
Trunk Coding:
Reducio
Code: Select all
[center][img]/images/upload/kzmzb8.webp[/img][/center]
[quote][b]Stats: Strength: 4 Accuracy: 11 Evasion: 11 Stamina: 11 Wisdom: 6 Arcane Power: 17[/b][/quote]
[quote]
[center][b][size=150]Abilities[/size][/b][/center]
[quote][b]Ability 1: Fearless
[/b]
[reducio]Tina Parker has seen someone bulling a first-year student wanting to break his bones and beat him up for good measure, "Leave him alone," Tina cried; the first-year at that moment ran and didn't come back. "What did you say? You filthy little mudblood." The older student said to her; his drooling voice said she set eyes on her. "I'm not afraid of you." She growled, "Leave other students alone." This struck a chord with the older student, who raised his wand and shot a spell at her; she dodged and gave the more senior student an excellent punch to the face WHAM! She had punched him so hard that he bled from his nose. He then tried to punch back; they brawled and crossed the hall as both tried to hit each other more complex and more challenging each time. He eventually hit her on the jaw, and she bled from the mouth. She wiped the blood off of her nose as she was not afraid of a bit of blood; she wasn't scared of most things. "RAAGH!" She cried as she charged at the senior student. She punched him repeatedly, making him bleed from his mouth as well. Finally, he tried to hit her straight at her chest, but Tina blocked it and kicked him straight in the stomach, making him cough blood. "Do not bully anyone else again, or the next time I will go to a teacher and tell them what you've done." He ran as his buddies came to finish the job. "No one messes with our friend," Tina said, smirking as she did so. "Game on. Jerks." Even when injured, she carried on; she then took out her wand drew a downward curve with my wand followed by a fast ascension with a tiny hook at the end. Then a blue light glowed at the end of my wand, and she shouted "Flipendo.", she shot the spell twice and it became a duel between the three students each of them shooting one spell after another at each other, the elder students vs the third-year girl. She was smug in her expression even though she was clearly outmatched, she didn't care if she got in trouble, she was having so much fun with this duel that they were having. Then the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher from the end of the hall shouted "Detention, all three of you."[/reducio][/quote]
[quote][b]Ability 2: Advanced Caster[/b]
[reducio]It is a warm summer day at Ilvermorny, and Tina is trying to become more advanced in her spell-casting. She was in a week's worth of detention, this is because she had been through an entire duel throughout the second-floor corridor near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom when the professor was nearby; this would be bad for some but worse for Tina as Tina was well-known to have been in trouble with the professors multiple times throughout two years of school, Tina was rebellious even when she was eleven years old. Due to her getting so many detentions, Tina became so proficient in her school work and spell-casting that it became second nature that Tina would eventually break something because Tina was defending others; Tina was so unafraid of others, even bullies, that she forgot to be frightened of other people and always stood up to bullies and pure-blood maniacs wherever the situation allowed. In fact, she was used to getting detentions because Tina always got into duels in the castle's corridors. She is trying to use the Mending Charm on a window. Because I was in a duel with another student. She had gotten so many detentions that it practically became second nature that at least one person who bullied another was in for a beating with spells whenever she was near. She caused so much destruction in the corridors because she had proficiency in spell-casting; this was shown on the first day she began dueling in her second year. She performed the Disarming Charm so effectively that she got the wand straight into Tina's Hand. The Professors thought it would be an excellent lesson to teach this rebellious by repairing a wall that she had broken due to the duel between her and a bully from Thunderbird house, which is meant to be the bravest and the strongest of all of the houses and would most likely be in Gryffindor house due to her reading Hogwarts, a history when she bought it in Diagon Alley when she visited England during summer vacation. So she got to work, so Tina pulled her wand straight to the right and left, then drew downward slightly. Then, creating a small line, her wand turned upward to the left with a final short line to the right, creating what looked like an upside-down "G." it worked. She drew the movement perfectly, and it repaired much faster than it otherwise would have. When she repaired the window, she destroyed it, her detention was over, and she could return to classes.[/reducio][/quote][/quote]What it looks like:
Reducio
Stats: Strength: 4 Accuracy: 11 Evasion: 11 Stamina: 11 Wisdom: 6 Arcane Power: 17
AbilitiesAbility 1: Fearless
ReducioTina Parker has seen someone bulling a first-year student wanting to break his bones and beat him up for good measure, "Leave him alone," Tina cried; the first-year at that moment ran and didn't come back. "What did you say? You filthy little mudblood." The older student said to her; his drooling voice said she set eyes on her. "I'm not afraid of you." She growled, "Leave other students alone." This struck a chord with the older student, who raised his wand and shot a spell at her; she dodged and gave the more senior student an excellent punch to the face WHAM! She had punched him so hard that he bled from his nose. He then tried to punch back; they brawled and crossed the hall as both tried to hit each other more complex and more challenging each time. He eventually hit her on the jaw, and she bled from the mouth. She wiped the blood off of her nose as she was not afraid of a bit of blood; she wasn't scared of most things. "RAAGH!" She cried as she charged at the senior student. She punched him repeatedly, making him bleed from his mouth as well. Finally, he tried to hit her straight at her chest, but Tina blocked it and kicked him straight in the stomach, making him cough blood. "Do not bully anyone else again, or the next time I will go to a teacher and tell them what you've done." He ran as his buddies came to finish the job. "No one messes with our friend," Tina said, smirking as she did so. "Game on. Jerks." Even when injured, she carried on; she then took out her wand drew a downward curve with my wand followed by a fast ascension with a tiny hook at the end. Then a blue light glowed at the end of my wand, and she shouted "Flipendo.", she shot the spell twice and it became a duel between the three students each of them shooting one spell after another at each other, the elder students vs the third-year girl. She was smug in her expression even though she was clearly outmatched, she didn't care if she got in trouble, she was having so much fun with this duel that they were having. Then the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher from the end of the hall shouted "Detention, all three of you."Ability 2: Advanced Caster
ReducioIt is a warm summer day at Ilvermorny, and Tina is trying to become more advanced in her spell-casting. She was in a week's worth of detention, this is because she had been through an entire duel throughout the second-floor corridor near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom when the professor was nearby; this would be bad for some but worse for Tina as Tina was well-known to have been in trouble with the professors multiple times throughout two years of school, Tina was rebellious even when she was eleven years old. Due to her getting so many detentions, Tina became so proficient in her school work and spell-casting that it became second nature that Tina would eventually break something because Tina was defending others; Tina was so unafraid of others, even bullies, that she forgot to be frightened of other people and always stood up to bullies and pure-blood maniacs wherever the situation allowed. In fact, she was used to getting detentions because Tina always got into duels in the castle's corridors. She is trying to use the Mending Charm on a window. Because I was in a duel with another student. She had gotten so many detentions that it practically became second nature that at least one person who bullied another was in for a beating with spells whenever she was near. She caused so much destruction in the corridors because she had proficiency in spell-casting; this was shown on the first day she began dueling in her second year. She performed the Disarming Charm so effectively that she got the wand straight into Tina's Hand. The Professors thought it would be an excellent lesson to teach this rebellious by repairing a wall that she had broken due to the duel between her and a bully from Thunderbird house, which is meant to be the bravest and the strongest of all of the houses and would most likely be in Gryffindor house due to her reading Hogwarts, a history when she bought it in Diagon Alley when she visited England during summer vacation. So she got to work, so Tina pulled her wand straight to the right and left, then drew downward slightly. Then, creating a small line, her wand turned upward to the left with a final short line to the right, creating what looked like an upside-down "G." it worked. She drew the movement perfectly, and it repaired much faster than it otherwise would have. When she repaired the window, she destroyed it, her detention was over, and she could return to classes.
Pending June 29 (Lear)
The stat total is 58, as a 6th year your character should have 60 stat points.
In your application you state "She knew it would take a lot for her to be expelled from the school because she was in her second year at Hogwarts and not getting into any trouble as of late." Your character should be an Ilvermorny student so I am confused.
What is the "advanced form of casting" spells?
A reminder of this skill:
Advanced Casting
Prerequisite: None
Effect: A reflection of inherent skill or simply hard work in studies. Spells have an increased chance of being a critical hit. +1 to the critical chance, so if a critical would be on a 20, now it would be on a 19 or a 20.
Pending June 29 (Lear)
Thank you for the Hogwarts > Ilvermorny edit. In the advanced casting, what we are generally looking for is: I am really good, better than most at casting because [insert reason]. You have a reason why you might want to be better (haste so you do not get in trouble) but this does not explain why you can, just why you want. I suggest reading your app something along the lines that due to your iNPCs bravery and want for defending others, you tend to have a lot of collateral damage such as broken chairs, dented walls, trampled flowerbeds and because of that you have gotten more than your fair share of detentions, groundings and scoldings. As you have gotten older, you have learned to be faster, more proficient with your spells to fix these mishaps after you have righted whatever wrongs were before you. Then give the specific example you provided. This explains that you did and why. he example would provide an instance where it was successful. his general formula is what we are looking for in most applications. Why - how - show. So looking at your fearless app, you again tell us why. You defend others, there aint no time to be afraid when you got stuff to do. You have mentioned in your other app an example of being fearless (ironically). Consider the process of becoming fearless. It can be as simple as a single line like - because I am so worried/passionate about others I forget to be afraid. It can be this simple!
Approved July 2 (Lear)
Looking at your stats. Gained 15 points this app. Yikes. Stat total: 60. Works. OK, updating/
Last edited by Jacob Harman on 1 Jul 2024, 00:45, edited 10 times in total.
"Do not pity the dead... pity the living. And above all those who live without love." Albus Dumbledore -
Jacob Harman
INPC: Tina Parker
Ilvermorny NPC
NPC Name: Miles Thatcher
Link: viewtopic.php?p=293904#p293904
Year: will be 5th year
Stats: if you're updating stats, please put your stats here
Current stats - Stamina - 12 | Evasion - 10 | Strength - 9 | Wisdom - 8 | ArcPower - 6 | Accuracy - 9
but soon to be
Stamina - 13 | Evasion - 12 | Strength - 11 | Wisdom - 9 | ArcPower - 8 | Accuracy - 11
.....and Additional +5 for the following broom race wins in Stamina, Evasion, Strength, Accuracy, ArcPower
1) viewtopic.php?p=749144#p749144
2) viewtopic.php?p=820821#p810699
3) viewtopic.php?p=968485#p968485
4) viewtopic.php?p=998550#p998550
5) viewtopic.php?p=820821#p810699
Abilities: Perfectionalist (408 words)
Extracurricular: Still quidditch team, still beater
Content Changes: n/A
Trunk Coding: Nope, just the details above, I believe
stamina 12, evasion 12, strength 11, wisdom 9, arcpower 8, accuracy 11
Be kind to one another. (*iNPC is Miles Thatcher)
Link: viewtopic.php?p=293904#p293904
Year: will be 5th year
Stats: if you're updating stats, please put your stats here
Current stats - Stamina - 12 | Evasion - 10 | Strength - 9 | Wisdom - 8 | ArcPower - 6 | Accuracy - 9
but soon to be
Stamina - 13 | Evasion - 12 | Strength - 11 | Wisdom - 9 | ArcPower - 8 | Accuracy - 11
....As to how this plays out, for graduating up to 5th year, +1 added to arcPower, Evasion, Strength, Accuracy, and WisdomEDIT::: Unfortunately failing to see where mistake was made. Can I subtract one from Stamina so that total stats are now:
stamina 12, evasion 12, strength 11, wisdom 9, arcpower 8, accuracy 11
.....and Additional +5 for the following broom race wins in Stamina, Evasion, Strength, Accuracy, ArcPower
1) viewtopic.php?p=749144#p749144
2) viewtopic.php?p=820821#p810699
3) viewtopic.php?p=968485#p968485
4) viewtopic.php?p=998550#p998550
5) viewtopic.php?p=820821#p810699
Abilities: Perfectionalist (408 words)
Reducio
Miles Thatcher was born into the pureblood wizarding family made up of Aldrich and Emmeline Thatcher, famous magizoologist sand renowned authors. The Thatchers have traveled the globe, researching magical creatures, writing about them, and strengthening their home environments so that they can thrive. They attended all of the high society functions in the wizarding world and certainly wouldn't miss a fancy pureblood event. So when little Miles Thatcher was born, although unplanned, he was expected to be perfection because that is what their lives always had been and the Thatchers were determined that it always would be. A baby wouldn't change that. A baby wouldn't ruin that.
He would be perfect.
Miles learned quickly what was expected of him. He would be quiet in times that he was meant to be quiet and he would be social in the times deemed right for him to be social. He would play the part of the perfect pureblood son - saying all the right things and doing all the right things.
This was true even in his earliest years where he would obey his parents and not give in to his imagination and creativity. He would plan. He would prepare. He would be levelminded and levelheaded.
They'd never have to discipline him for being too loud or too impulsive because that would look poorly on his parents' reputation. No, he would go along with them on their ventures and he would do his best to keep interest - usually finding solace in the nature that surrounding him.
A little older and he would learn; learn all he could about magical plants and the creatures his parents devoted their lives to, the places they went, and so forth. He would take in the world and be a quiet observer much of the time, but this information would provide to be quite useful in many situations. Maybe he could spout off an impressive fact here and there.
Once at Ilvermorny, this perfection took another route. He would take on extra practice for quidditch, ensuring that his skills were top notch. It also carried over into his studies, where he would practice and practice and practice how to perform a perfect spell or study and memorize what makes a certain perfect potion.
He might be further away from Aldrich and Emmeline, but they instilled this perfection long ago and he was going to do all he could to avoid being a family embarrassment.
Miles Thatcher was born into the pureblood wizarding family made up of Aldrich and Emmeline Thatcher, famous magizoologist sand renowned authors. The Thatchers have traveled the globe, researching magical creatures, writing about them, and strengthening their home environments so that they can thrive. They attended all of the high society functions in the wizarding world and certainly wouldn't miss a fancy pureblood event. So when little Miles Thatcher was born, although unplanned, he was expected to be perfection because that is what their lives always had been and the Thatchers were determined that it always would be. A baby wouldn't change that. A baby wouldn't ruin that.
He would be perfect.
Miles learned quickly what was expected of him. He would be quiet in times that he was meant to be quiet and he would be social in the times deemed right for him to be social. He would play the part of the perfect pureblood son - saying all the right things and doing all the right things.
This was true even in his earliest years where he would obey his parents and not give in to his imagination and creativity. He would plan. He would prepare. He would be levelminded and levelheaded.
They'd never have to discipline him for being too loud or too impulsive because that would look poorly on his parents' reputation. No, he would go along with them on their ventures and he would do his best to keep interest - usually finding solace in the nature that surrounding him.
A little older and he would learn; learn all he could about magical plants and the creatures his parents devoted their lives to, the places they went, and so forth. He would take in the world and be a quiet observer much of the time, but this information would provide to be quite useful in many situations. Maybe he could spout off an impressive fact here and there.
Once at Ilvermorny, this perfection took another route. He would take on extra practice for quidditch, ensuring that his skills were top notch. It also carried over into his studies, where he would practice and practice and practice how to perform a perfect spell or study and memorize what makes a certain perfect potion.
He might be further away from Aldrich and Emmeline, but they instilled this perfection long ago and he was going to do all he could to avoid being a family embarrassment.
Extracurricular: Still quidditch team, still beater
Content Changes: n/A
Trunk Coding: Nope, just the details above, I believe
EDIT::: Unfortunately failing to see where mistake was made. Can I subtract one from Stamina so that total stats are now:Pending June 29 (Lear)
3 Broom Racing Wins previously documented; 5 Sport Wins documented in this request.
Year 5 + 8 wins = 35 + 5 + 5 + 5 + 5 + 8 = 63 total (expected)
Stats in app: 64
We are expecting 63 stats but have 64 in this app, I am not sure where this extra stat is coming from.
stamina 12, evasion 12, strength 11, wisdom 9, arcpower 8, accuracy 11
APPROVED - Marcus Iwasaki, July 1
Using the new stats after the edit
Be kind to one another. (*iNPC is Miles Thatcher)
Ilvermorny NPC
NPC Name: Amber Frost Hart
Link: beep
Year: going into 3rd
Stats:
Old: Sta: 7, Eva: 7, Str: 8, Wis: 6, Arc: 6, Acc: 7
New: Sta: 8, Eva: 8, Str: 8, Wis: 7, Arc: 7, Acc: 8
+1 from quidditch match.
Abilities: if you're applying for a new ability, please add that here
Extracurricular: quidditch player (chaser) no change
Content Changes: none
Trunk Coding: same as before but with the stat changes please!
Link: beep
Year: going into 3rd
Stats:
Old: Sta: 7, Eva: 7, Str: 8, Wis: 6, Arc: 6, Acc: 7
New: Sta: 8, Eva: 8, Str: 8, Wis: 7, Arc: 7, Acc: 8
+1 from quidditch match.
Abilities: if you're applying for a new ability, please add that here
Extracurricular: quidditch player (chaser) no change
Content Changes: none
Trunk Coding: same as before but with the stat changes please!
Approved June 29 (Lear)
As no special code was provided, copy pasted elements from app wholesale.
Ilvermorny NPC
NPC Name: Everett Brooks
Link: Peach Boy
Year: 6th Year
Stats:
Old Stats:
♢ Stamina 10 ♢ Evasion 10 ♢ Strength 6 ♢ Wisdom 10 ♢ ArcPower 13 ♢ Accuracy 10 ♢
New Stats:
♢ Stamina 12 ♢ Evasion 10 ♢ Strength 6 ♢ Wisdom 12 ♢ ArcPower 13 ♢ Accuracy 13 ♢
Quid 1 | Quid 2
Duel 1 | Duel 2
Racing 1 | Racing 2
Abilities: N/A
Extracurricular: Duellist
Content Changes: Realized an error in his birthday instead of November 3rd, 2008 making him too young for his year. I'd like to change his birthday to August 31st, 2008. It's literally never been RPed before.
Trunk Coding:
ReducioCode: Select all
[quote][center][img]/images/upload/2u43fs.webp[/img][/center][/quote] [quote][center][b]|| Stats ||[/b] ♢ Stamina 12 ♢ Evasion 10 ♢ Strength 6 ♢ Wisdom 12 ♢ ArcPower 13 ♢ Accuracy 13 ♢ [revelio][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=9842&start=50#p149360]Quid 1[/url] | [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=12164&start=160#p199722]Quid 2[/url] [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=13765&start=40#p217884]Duel 1[/url] | [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=667782#p666493]Duel 2[/url] [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=968485#p968485]Racing 1[/url] | [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=32411&start=60#p998550]Racing 2[/url] [/revelio] [b]|| Extracurricular ||[/b] ♢ Duellist ♢[/quote] [quote][quote][b]♢ 1st Year Ability ♢ Charmer ♢[/b] [reducio]It was no secret in the US that the South was known for their charm and hospitality. This didn't stop when it came to Everett. In his pureblood family they had raised him from an early age to be an exemplary practitioner of this. There was no lady that would open her own door around him, no person to be left unescorted if they needed assistance wherever they needed to go. He was quite the, well... charmer. His smile left grandmas pinching his cheeks, and girls his age developing the cutest of young crushes on him. Although, he always had to politely turn them down due to his early discovery of his gayness. It really didn't come as surprise to anybody around him and he was lucky to be in a supportive environment, but generally he was still in the closet for the most part in his town. This almost added to his charm, the unattainable preppy boy. People tried to get him to crack, to be his first girlfriend, but they never succeeded and they always seemed to leave feeling dazed by his soft words and silver tongue. He was a horned serpent after all. In addition to his training in politeness and grace, he also spent unending hours in his families library, reading anything that he could get his hands on. Which wasn't hard, his library was huge and he was lucky enough to have the wealth that could get him any additional book at the snap of his fingers. This only lent a hand when it came to Everett's smooth talking and expansive vocabulary. Romance novels taught him to be suave, how to pull a girl in. Granted, they were adult tactics that he had to mold to suit his childish desires. A signature of his was greeting someone new with a kiss upon their hand if they let him. No gender was safe from this greeting, he believed anyone should get the joy of being pulled in by him. Not just the ladies. Everett already had a pretty big ego for someone his age. Growing up with people around him giving him such high praise for such little things gave him the confidence he needed to glide through life without a care. Granted, he was learning the hard way that he could definitely trip up and fail in making relationships with others. Learning how to interact had been a slippery slope, but even then he managed to charm his way out of nearly every awkward situation. Or, if all else failed, just never spoke to that person again. [right][i]Word Count || 432[/i][/right][/reducio][/quote] [quote][b]♢ 2nd Year Ability ♢ Perfectionist I ♢[/b] [reducio]Everett felt lucky that he grew up in a household that always pushed him to succeed, but not to any degree that caused him an unneeded amount of stress. He was allowed to still be a kid, to mess up every now and again, with constant encouragement to try better the next time. It felt right that he ended up in the house of the Horned Serpent, the house of the mind and of scholars. It was a continuation of that encouragement to succeed, to always be doing better. While studying by the book was more his speed, his essays and speeches alike being his specialty besides spellcasting, as a wizard he knew the importance of doing well in his practical studies too. When he wasn't reading or writing, he was practicing. He took diligent notes in class about everything about a spell. While some saw the etymology of a spell as useless in casting, he saw it as another bit of information to help him perform the spell perfectly. Sure, he did love learning etymology in general, but he approached spell learning with a type of respect towards the craft. If anyone were to catch him, he would vehemently deny giving his wand a little pep talk before practice session. But his wand was his instrument of success, and his parents emphasized how important keeping a good relationship with your wand was, as if it was its own sentient entity. Every part of his spellwork took patience and dedication. There was no part that was undervalued, no part that was skipped. If he was in a rush to practice he didn't practice at all, for a rushed practice was practically useless to him. There was a mindset that was involved, a deep breath, and practicing the components separately. The incantation, the wand movement, the concentration, then all together. By no means was he a particularly naturally gifted spellcaster, it is why he practiced so hard outside of his studies. Something many of his friends didn't really even know about him. It wasn't something he was ashamed of, but it was something that he cherished in his private life. The countless hours of practice he would put into spells made backfires rarely happen. A well practiced headspace of his craft, muscles that had memorized every wand movement he had learned so far. To his classmates he seemed like a flawless natural, but he and his family knew just how much work he constantly put into his studies to succeed and fly above the rest of his class. [right][i]Word Count[/i] || 427[/right][/reducio][/quote] [quote][b]♢ 3rd Year Ability ♢ Paragon of Health ♢[/b] [reducio]The young Horned Serpent was a keen people watcher. He quite enjoyed relaxing in a public area by himself to watch the others around him. His mom and himself quite enjoyed doing it during the hot Georgia summers, either at cafes or the occasional beach trip. While they did talk, she taught him how to notice different things about people. To look at a whole person, their movements, the way they stood, the look in their eyes, where they were looking. He valued his time with his mom and felt like that time with her helped him now in Ilvermorny. While he was absolutely a novice at reading people since he was still... well a child at heart. Sometimes he believed the best in people when they would later lead them astray. This keen skill of observation had turned into something else in his time at Ilvermorny. An aura of control over a situation, of calm and assuredness, surrounded him. Even in a group of Hogdorks during a Wizard Chess Combat, he stayed calm and alert as the [s]Princess[/s] Queen. Despite one of his compatriots being constantly set on fire. He had taken the role of firefighter, putting her out as needed. Staying aware of who needed assistance. Who was moving as if they were injured, did someone need just some emotional motivation. He certainly was not winning any awards for extraordinary kindness, but when he was with people he knew he needed to take care of he would. It was something that always made him wish that he had younger siblings, people to take care of from a young age so he could've harnessed this skill at an earlier age. With parents by his side all of his life there was really no need for it. But Ilvermorny had changed him for the better, and going into his third year he was getting better and better at being competent for others. In times of stress or strife he was there for the people that he cared for, they could trust him to be the one that was hypervigilant, in control. Inside he would be stressed out of his mind, panicking at trying to maintain a collected composition to lead everyone to safety, or to victory. But it was a burden he happily took upon his shoulders. It was something that made him feel capable, like the leader that he was meant to be. If you were by his side you were taken care of and that was a fact. [right][i]Word Count[/i] || 421[/right][/reducio][/quote] [quote][b]♢ 4th Year Ability ♢ Perfectionist II ♢[/b] [reducio]An element of stress came from being one of the members of the Hexiwizard team of Ilvermorny. Representing the whole of their school and backing Miles with it. He was one of the proudest members of Ilvermorny, boasting the school's achievements and how lovely it was to- live on top of a misty mountain. That part wasn't great, he'd rather the school be located in the ever-sunny south instead of dreary Massachusetts. He was proud, proud of his wizard heritage, of his house, of his school. While he was already a studious boy, he became even more studious in the past year if that was possible. Extracurriculars became sparse as he dedicated himself to his studies. The two things that took up most of his time were letters to his dear Rafa who was being dreadfully homeschooled and who he missed dearly, and practicing with whatever Professor would give him the time of day. He was already a slightly advanced caster, backfiring less often than other students in his year. There was something about him and his wand that just got each other. An ease of learning that took the stress off of practice. Though, sometimes he really felt like he was putting his wand through the wringer. Essays still had the expectation of getting done on time, and letters home became more infrequent. The worry that lived between the lines of his mother's letters was apparent. Ever the worry wart she was. His free time became stretched thin, his current romance novel The Quidditch Captain and the Peach Farmer (a working title) being left unfinished for the time being. Of course, when inspiration struck he still took the time to scribble a line or two. He accidentally became an expert at idly twirling his wand around his hand just from fiddling with it during practice. Spellcasting started to feel like an extension of him, truly. It was easy. In class, he picked up spells like he had known them all his life. Wand movements felt more fluid, though incantations still felt hard depending on the Latin. Why did all of the incantations have to be Latin? At a certain point he almost felt more like a nuisance to his professors rather than an asset and joy to have in class. But there was a general understanding that this was the betterment for him as a wizard, and for him to succeed as much as possible in Hexiwizard. [right][i]Word Count[/i] || 410[/right][/reducio][/quote] [quote][b]♢ 5th Year Ability ♢ Evasive Maneuvers I ♢[/b] [reducio]It would be silly for Everett to think he was a graceful boy. He wasn't. He wasn't a particular fan of sports or playing in them, his mother made him learn some social dances but that doesn't mean that he was any good at them. So once again, it was a fault in his repertoire for the Hexiwizard tournament. The boy moved slowly, and not in a way that made him harder to hit. Dodge and weave was- well. Lightly skitter away and hope for the best. He didn't know honestly if he would have to battle anyone, but if his time in the chess game was any indication, he needed to improve and fast. He did what he does best when it comes to this kind of stuff, and he studied. This time it wasn't books though, it was people. He attended more sports games. Broom racing, quidditch, dueling. He watched their maneuvers in the sky and on foot. He winced more than once watching people take brutal hits and hurl toward the ground, often being quickly escorted off to the hospital wing. He participated in sports, but it was mostly for the accolades than anything. Of which he didn't have any so far so it received the least of his attention and dedication. When he and Rafael D'Spacito first started dating he played sports and ran so fast and quick for him during a capture-the-flag game that he ultimately lost, all in the name of impressing a jock. But Rafa liked him even if he wasn't a sporty boy like him so he quickly dropped the façade. For all intents and purposes, he was in Horned Serpent. Which was the house of the brain, about knowledge, smarts, and quick thinking. Not quick movement. Otherwise, he would've thought there was some kind of mistake in sorting. He had friends of his throw things at him during downtime. Small items, large items, it didn't matter. At first, he was battered and bruised by various shoes and other effects. Over time though, he grew quicker. He was able to maneuver in multiple directions. Ducking or jumping rather than just moving side to side. Of course, he was still hit, but he was still just a novice at this! What mattered is he was much better off than he was before and he didn't feel like he would be quiet as big as a target in Hexiwizard competitions, should he need to battle again. [right][i]Word Count[/i] || 412[/right][/reducio][/quote][/quote]
Approved June 29 (Lear)
Approved all elements including DOB change fo the reason given
"I don't know whether to cry or scream or do both. It feels like I've done more than enough of both. And it feels like I haven't done enough." - Mason Deaver
Stamina 12 ∴ Evasion 12 ∴ Strength 5 ∴ Wisdom 12 ∵ ArcPower 10 ∵ Accuracy 15
Stamina 12 ∴ Evasion 12 ∴ Strength 5 ∴ Wisdom 12 ∵ ArcPower 10 ∵ Accuracy 15