Ability Applications
Ency: heree
Ability Being Applied For: Evasive Maneuvers
Why Does This Fit Your Character: 496/400
ReducioEonaria always seemed a bit… jumpy. Prone to getting surprised by loud noises or sudden changes in the environment, she has taken it upon herself to become more aware of her surroundings. After all, what’s an extremely embarrassing scenario? A guest somehow knocks over a dessert stand, glass crashes to the floor, and above the sound of shattering glass comes a high-pitched shriek. Definitely something Eonaria would want to avoid. Thus, she has begun to work on remaining alert. No matter how sleepy she might be, her surroundings must be taken into account first. Floating off into I-can’t-take-more-lectures-land? Glance at the board, then around the classroom, then at the professor. Idleness is not a good way to spend time!
Quick scans around the room every few minutes, almost obssessively checking if something has changed even though it probably hasn’t? Check. Looking at even the slightest of shifts, like a footstep or a cloth blowing in the wind? Check. Some might call it some kind of paranoia, but Eonaria has definitely noticed a good change in her life. She’s been overreacting less! Phew, surely her parents will be proud the next time some other bumbling fool(hopefully not herself!) makes a mess and she doesn’t squeak like a mouse! A shift in the surroundings? Ah, look, what is it! Move aside just in case! Eonaria has dodged quite a few oddball spells flying around the Leaky Cauldron from some poor chap who discovered his butterbeer mug had a bit of leftover soap in it... or whatever was going on over there. She definitely didn’t stick around long enough to hear the entire story. After all, why would she want to remain within spell’s reach of a dissatisfied, raging customer? Crisis averted.
One time, Eonaria had just put a book back up on a top shelf in the family library. Just as she was about to reach for another one lower down, she felt a tingle. A momentary warning sign, that something was happening. She leaped out of the way just as the book came tumbling down out of its spot. Huh, I guess Eonaria wasn’t tall enough to properly store books yet. Crisis averted, again. She didn’t feel like getting a head injury! That encyclopedia of magical mushrooms or whatever it was was kinda heavy!
As she continued to persist in her efforts of becoming more alert, Eonaria began to realize that she almost felt… awesome? The more times she avoided some sort of trouble, whether it be a stray orange seed projectile flying across the Great Hall(ew) or a ghost popping through the wall(not exactly trouble, but the feeling of that icy ghost-ness is still pretty troubling), the more confident she felt walking around. Less clumsy, in fact! Excellent. She wasn’t about to go strutting around the castle talking about being invisible, though. That would just invite more trouble… probably things that she couldn’t dodge! Eonaria wasn’t anywhere close to invincible, but this was a wonderful feeling.
STATUS: Approved, Ruby, July 2
| Every flower is a soul blossoming in nature. Eonaria's Evening Tide Market | iNPC: Akari Kabukimono |
Ability Applications
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Yay! Level up!
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Y4 - Terrible Presence
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): 488/400
ReducioFailure after failure had completely changed her, drove her into the corner of desperation. Raizel wasn't the type of person to share her troubles with others, no, she'd rather wear a mask that says that it's alright but to her closest friends, they might know that behind that smile was a girl seething with frustration from all the failures that she had experienced, from the jealousy towards those who had improvements in their wizarding studies and someone desperate for her progress in that department.
This Gryffindor was not like the person she used to before. That cheerful, determined, playful and reckless girl had completely disappeared, replaced by a stranger with an intimidating aura around her. Was it the cold and exhausted look in those hazel colored eyes of hers that was once filled with hopes and dreams? That sudden hunger for more powerful spells and reckless behaviour? Or that unsettling smile that hides the frustration and the pain that she had experienced in life when it used to make others feel so warm and safe? Perhaps all of those. One thing is certain though, the Raizel Voltrouz that most people knew was not this person.
Approaching her seems to be harder, like an invisible force pushing away those that try to even get close. It was her lonesome demeanor, the way that it tells that she just wants to be alone to be with her own thoughts. One would think twice before they mess with her. When the old her would usually try to avoid any unnecessary fight as much as possible, this new her is ready to duke it out right there, right now. Her presence was intimidating enough for anyone who comes across her. Everything about her right now just screams ‘go away and let me be.’ But does she care? No, it was better this way. It was better for her to push them away. Not when she knows others won’t approve of her methods, of her slow fall towards the dark side with her sudden interest in Dark Arts, willing to do anything for power.
‘She is fine, nothing is wrong.’ She would say with that signature smile of hers but there was no genuineness. It was just a tool to hide what she truly feels in order to not worry those that still manage to find the courage to approach a complete stranger like her, to try and help her. To tell her that this isn't her. She knows that but what choice does she have? That version of hers was weak, unable to reach her goals, the power that she desperately seeks. She hated it so it was for the best for it to disappear. Discarding it was the only way. Without power, how can she become an Auror? How can she help and save people? Surely they would understand that what she was doing was still for the sake of others.
STATUS: Approved, Ruby, July 2
Oziel Toussaint | Miharu Goto
STA: 7| EVA: 9| STR: 3| WIS: 12| ARC: 10| ACC: 10
Perfectionist I | Fearless | Wandmaker | Terrible Presence
Ability Applications
Link to your encyclopedia thread: here!
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Keen Eye
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
ReducioAnyone who knew Ophelia Lynn Northwell before she'd turned into a witch would be truly confused as to why she'd ever decided to join the Quidditch team at Hogwarts. Oh, she was a talkative one, that was for sure, but only with those that she felt more comfortable with than her own skin. She wasn't in the least a social butterfly. And sports? She'd never even touched it as a topic of conversation. Ophelia had always been the book smart girl, the one who was down to Earth and humble.
But to Ophelia, it was as if her time at Hogwarts had changed her. Perhaps not completely, but it had changed her nonetheless. It had been gradual, starting with feeling left out when friends went off to do things together that she'd never even dreamed of doing before. But soon, Ophelia-- the girl who had previously been so content to sit in the shade and read a book while those around her were in social groups-- wanted to be a part of it all. That had always been her true intentions, when she'd joined the Quidditch team in the first spot that she'd deemed capable with her feeble talents. Not to bring glory to her welcoming house with Quidditch wins, but to join a team where she was forced to meet new people.
But even with less than noble intentions, Ophelia quickly picked up a liking to the sport of Quidditch. It was brutal, it was competitive, and it was wholly unlike anything that she'd ever picked up before. But it was hers. It was the sport, the team, that had taken her in when she'd wanted to try something new. But that meant she had to make her teammates proud. And though the Ravenclaw practised with her team, she'd decided for herself that she would train on her own.
Ophelia believed that training with the team, and flying lessons in general, had gotten her the basics of Quidditch down. She could fly without worry, mostly, and she knew how to steer and push off the ground. But looking for a tiny golden ball that fluttered around the large Quidditch pitch while its raining? No amount of normal training could help with that.
And that was what started Ophelia's little obsession with teaching herself to be aware. In the beginning, they were just small exercises that she'd learned by reading informational books or online when she was at home for breaks. She'd pass through a room and tell herself to memorise everything she'd seen. Then she'd start listing out the things she'd noticed before walking back through the room to verify. This went on for a few weeks, happening simultaneously with Ophelia's normal life at Hogwarts as she walked to class or the Great Hall.
Soon, Ophelia decided she was ready for more complicated exercises. She asked her parents to send her a little plastic ball the next time they owled her, and that they did. A small golden thing that would be hard to find. At first, the Ravenclaw threw the ball around her dorm room with her eyes closed, before searching for it with her eyes. When this plan got thwarted by her beloved kitty Dove, Ophelia decided to make her pet a part of it all. Dove hid the ball around the dorm room, and Ophelia practised, over and over again, using her eyes to spot the little golden ball.
In the beginning, the whole thing felt like it would never work. It took hours on end for Ophelia to find the little golden ball, but in due time, it became easier. And easier, easier, easier. Soon, Ophelia's keen eyes could make a search of the room and find the ball quickly, within minutes, even.
She had done it. She had trained, albeit in her own way, and built herself these keen Seeker eyes.
647 words
STATUS: Approved, Ruby, July 2
☽ Ophelia Lynn Northwell | i have a whole universe in my mind | Aurélie Nathalie Duval ☾
Ability Applications
Link to your encyclopedia thread: viewtopic.php?f=169&t=37738
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Evasive Maneuvers
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Evasive Maneuvers
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Reducio
It was a summer's day and a sweltering one at that. The sort of day where you'd forgotten the world ever used to be cold. Sefton Park grass was longer than usual, goals supported by nothing other than worn rope, and Mikey's trainers were already filthy after half an hour of racing round after the ball, but it didn't matter. He was playing with his mates from years ago. laughing, sweating, playing as if they would die if they lost. "You can't dance all day!" someone yelled, charging at him from the right. Mikey never spoke. He dodged instead. His foot sidestepped, the ball with him, out of reach. The other boy threw himself again, overcommitting, and Mikey was gone away like water through fingers.
But it wasn't them.
It was him. Something about the game, the beat, the intensity it awakened something in him that he had not felt since Hogwarts closed for summer. He was not the Ravenclaw who drifted in the world of Muggles at that time. He was not the boy abandoned by his mother or whose nights were sometimes spent tossing in the silence above the bakery. He was just there. Quick. Smooth. Off limits. The other defender came at him with even more rage. He was charging down the field like a runaway freight train. Mikey waited until the last moment, then spun viciously. The boy's foot flashed out and missed by a hair. Another perfect dodge. As if Mikey's body reacted before his brain had a chance to think, as if his instincts muttered left! just in time.
His lungs were on fire, but he didn't care. He kicked the ball forward, running past another teammate, dodging between two bigger boys who attempted to trap him. It was as if he didn't exist. Mikey didn't utter a word. He was already on the goal, dribbling the ball gently with each step to keep it under his control, until he gave it a final flutter and kicked it past the keeper and into the goal. Cheers and jeers filled the air around him in equal measure.
He collapsed into grass an instant later, gasping, arms behind his head, grinning so wide his cheeks ache. "Still got it," he grumbled to no one in general. He closed his eyes, feeling the sun filter through his shirt and the sounds of his mates around him. Here, he didn't require spells or a wand. A decent pair of trainers, an open pitch, and that odd little talent that allowed him to slip between the mayhem like a ghost.
But it wasn't them.
It was him. Something about the game, the beat, the intensity it awakened something in him that he had not felt since Hogwarts closed for summer. He was not the Ravenclaw who drifted in the world of Muggles at that time. He was not the boy abandoned by his mother or whose nights were sometimes spent tossing in the silence above the bakery. He was just there. Quick. Smooth. Off limits. The other defender came at him with even more rage. He was charging down the field like a runaway freight train. Mikey waited until the last moment, then spun viciously. The boy's foot flashed out and missed by a hair. Another perfect dodge. As if Mikey's body reacted before his brain had a chance to think, as if his instincts muttered left! just in time.
His lungs were on fire, but he didn't care. He kicked the ball forward, running past another teammate, dodging between two bigger boys who attempted to trap him. It was as if he didn't exist. Mikey didn't utter a word. He was already on the goal, dribbling the ball gently with each step to keep it under his control, until he gave it a final flutter and kicked it past the keeper and into the goal. Cheers and jeers filled the air around him in equal measure.
He collapsed into grass an instant later, gasping, arms behind his head, grinning so wide his cheeks ache. "Still got it," he grumbled to no one in general. He closed his eyes, feeling the sun filter through his shirt and the sounds of his mates around him. Here, he didn't require spells or a wand. A decent pair of trainers, an open pitch, and that odd little talent that allowed him to slip between the mayhem like a ghost.
STATUS: Approved, Ruby, July 2
Ability Applications
Link to your encyclopedia thread:
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for:
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):Perfectionist
When you cast a spell, you take your time doing so. You enunciate your words with care and you do not recklessly swish your wand about. Your spells don't backfire, they don't fail. You're too much of a Perfectionist to let that happen.
Effect: You have a reduced critical failure chance range by 1. In addition, you can counter up to 1 point of additional critical failure chances caused by abilities or spells (not potions). In other words, if you have an extended critical failure chance range (as is the case with certain races, the effect of certain spells or potions), this reduces that range by 1. So if you have a +2 critical failure chance range (meaning if you roll a 1,2, or a 3 you critically fail), this ability makes it a +1 critical range instead (meaning if you roll a 1 or a 2 you critically fail).
Reducio
Cirrus pouted his lips slightly as he rubbed his eyes, they were puffy and red, his nose seemed like an accessory to the irritation. The truth was Cirrus had cried alot the past few days, he had been extremely behind on school-work and studying, so in turn he gave up having fun for Halloween to catch-up. Cirrus at some points would have small breakdowns when struggling on a topic he deemed impossible, he cursed it only to find out it was simpler than he thought. He hoped his parents would be proud for doing something more responsible than going to a party, what if it made him look more mature? Though that made him feel better, he was still sad he missed out on some candy but grades were always more important, the perfectionist in him would never let him rest—
✩✩✩
After this task, he would never let his homework slip again, the boy would never drink another sip, but first he had to do the task properly. How would he do that? Cirrus had no experience with such things, like all things he would need to practice. At least one practice run, just to make sure he could do it, before the real execution of the any task. A strategy for perfection was always important.
✩✩✩
Seeing him at the library studying till he was braindead was no an uncommon occurrence. The boy quickly shook his head as he fixed his posture, looking back down at the stacks of homework and books that lay sprawled out in front of him. He stared at the quill and piece of parchment in front of him, furrowing his eyebrows to try and hone in his motivation, beckoning himself to focus. He huffed in exasperation as he threw himself backward, letting the back of his head rest on the top rail of the chair, bouncing his leg in impatience and annoyance. The Hufflepuff let his hands rub up his face, he knew he had to get this done, picking up the quill once more he was determined, practicing and taking journals worth of notes in every single one his classes.
✩✩✩
At least that's what his days usually consisted of, as today he had a new edition to his collection of daily tasks, Cirrus had applied for a healer internship which meant he had a whole new material study and do homework for. Well more specifically he had to choose an ailment from a list of prompts, study it, and create a presentation based on his research. Simple enough concept, or so it seemed until the boy found himself clutching his head, his brow furrowed, and his mouth twisted in upmost confusion as he sat reading. The Hufflepuff had chosen the topic of spattergroit, it was definitely nothing close to a boring topic, and he found himself quite enjoying the enlightenment of wizard disease.
Furthermore, this was extremely important due to the fact that he was creatively challenged with his hands, all his more hands on projects looking more like mounds than actual structures; all despite the fact that he was ambidextrous and his mother was a literal art teacher, none of the talent had rubbed off on him in that sense, and being someone who liked to get his projects perfect it was risk he would never take.
Instead, he usually opted for more of what his father would do, a professional and informational summary for a report. The days of writing drafts, organizing, and getting peer reviewed took a whole week before his speech was close to what he found to be an acceptable standard. That was his usual process, he was hoping that, due to this collaboration, he could expand his knowledge and processes for the better. Cirrus, after sitting looking over his stacks of books and journals upon the contagious fungal illness, determined that he would reread, study, and revise till the day it was due.
(600+ w/c)
✩✩✩
After this task, he would never let his homework slip again, the boy would never drink another sip, but first he had to do the task properly. How would he do that? Cirrus had no experience with such things, like all things he would need to practice. At least one practice run, just to make sure he could do it, before the real execution of the any task. A strategy for perfection was always important.
✩✩✩
Seeing him at the library studying till he was braindead was no an uncommon occurrence. The boy quickly shook his head as he fixed his posture, looking back down at the stacks of homework and books that lay sprawled out in front of him. He stared at the quill and piece of parchment in front of him, furrowing his eyebrows to try and hone in his motivation, beckoning himself to focus. He huffed in exasperation as he threw himself backward, letting the back of his head rest on the top rail of the chair, bouncing his leg in impatience and annoyance. The Hufflepuff let his hands rub up his face, he knew he had to get this done, picking up the quill once more he was determined, practicing and taking journals worth of notes in every single one his classes.
✩✩✩
At least that's what his days usually consisted of, as today he had a new edition to his collection of daily tasks, Cirrus had applied for a healer internship which meant he had a whole new material study and do homework for. Well more specifically he had to choose an ailment from a list of prompts, study it, and create a presentation based on his research. Simple enough concept, or so it seemed until the boy found himself clutching his head, his brow furrowed, and his mouth twisted in upmost confusion as he sat reading. The Hufflepuff had chosen the topic of spattergroit, it was definitely nothing close to a boring topic, and he found himself quite enjoying the enlightenment of wizard disease.
Furthermore, this was extremely important due to the fact that he was creatively challenged with his hands, all his more hands on projects looking more like mounds than actual structures; all despite the fact that he was ambidextrous and his mother was a literal art teacher, none of the talent had rubbed off on him in that sense, and being someone who liked to get his projects perfect it was risk he would never take.
Instead, he usually opted for more of what his father would do, a professional and informational summary for a report. The days of writing drafts, organizing, and getting peer reviewed took a whole week before his speech was close to what he found to be an acceptable standard. That was his usual process, he was hoping that, due to this collaboration, he could expand his knowledge and processes for the better. Cirrus, after sitting looking over his stacks of books and journals upon the contagious fungal illness, determined that he would reread, study, and revise till the day it was due.
(600+ w/c)
STATUS: Approved, Ruby, July 3
—cirrus nam
—Watermelon sugar high—
melor baskakova—
Ability Applications
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Here!
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Fearless
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): 450/400
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Fearless
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): 450/400
Reducio
Avery had always had something different about her. A feeling deep down that made her stand out. There was a time when things weren’t going well. She was eight.
If officially not having the chance to return to her real home in Wales after a big argument between her grandfather and mother wasn’t hard enough, then the bullies that had found Avery just made things worse. They were older wizards, he not quite of age. They were only around twelve or thirteen. Mere children comparwd to the older purebloods Avery had met.
Avery was chatting with her muggle friend in the park when she noticed something off. Something was in the bushes. She immediately stood up and walked towards the bushes. No fear, but instead the feeling of protection for her friend. Something was making her on edge and she had to know what it was.
That’s when the figure stood. He was a good head or two taller than her, but Avery didn’t even flinch or back down. She knew that he was trying to scare her, but it wasn’t working. There was no way that she was going to be afraid.
That’s when the staring match began. Both parties unwilling to back down and unwilling to be afraid.
“Come on, little girl. Just hand over your money and we can go our ways.” The older boy cooed to her.
Avery shook her small head in disgust. Her parents had taught her that she was to let no one steal or force her to give them something.
“No.” Avery said defiantly to the older boy.
The older boy quirked his brown and said, “No? Well, this should be fun. Looks like I’m going to have to do this the hard way.”
Avery knew something was coming but she didn’t know or understand what was actually coming. She had never experienced a bully before.
Her muggle friend gripped Avery’s arm hard as she stood behind her. She was afraid and had probably had experience with bullies.
Of course Avery didn’t take the hint. There was not way that she was going to let these bullies get the satisfaction of winning. She wasn’t afraid of them. All they were to her were older kids that thought they were better than her because they were older. Avery never let that slide.
Avery stood her ground and stared at the bully as he advanced on her. He tried to act menacing but he just made Avery laugh. To her, he just looked like a giant rooster trying to entice a hen.
Her laugh angered him and he tried to swing at her, but his hand fell short when Avery didn’t flinch away. Eventually he gave up. Unsatisfied that he was unable to steal from the younger girl.
If officially not having the chance to return to her real home in Wales after a big argument between her grandfather and mother wasn’t hard enough, then the bullies that had found Avery just made things worse. They were older wizards, he not quite of age. They were only around twelve or thirteen. Mere children comparwd to the older purebloods Avery had met.
Avery was chatting with her muggle friend in the park when she noticed something off. Something was in the bushes. She immediately stood up and walked towards the bushes. No fear, but instead the feeling of protection for her friend. Something was making her on edge and she had to know what it was.
That’s when the figure stood. He was a good head or two taller than her, but Avery didn’t even flinch or back down. She knew that he was trying to scare her, but it wasn’t working. There was no way that she was going to be afraid.
That’s when the staring match began. Both parties unwilling to back down and unwilling to be afraid.
“Come on, little girl. Just hand over your money and we can go our ways.” The older boy cooed to her.
Avery shook her small head in disgust. Her parents had taught her that she was to let no one steal or force her to give them something.
“No.” Avery said defiantly to the older boy.
The older boy quirked his brown and said, “No? Well, this should be fun. Looks like I’m going to have to do this the hard way.”
Avery knew something was coming but she didn’t know or understand what was actually coming. She had never experienced a bully before.
Her muggle friend gripped Avery’s arm hard as she stood behind her. She was afraid and had probably had experience with bullies.
Of course Avery didn’t take the hint. There was not way that she was going to let these bullies get the satisfaction of winning. She wasn’t afraid of them. All they were to her were older kids that thought they were better than her because they were older. Avery never let that slide.
Avery stood her ground and stared at the bully as he advanced on her. He tried to act menacing but he just made Avery laugh. To her, he just looked like a giant rooster trying to entice a hen.
Her laugh angered him and he tried to swing at her, but his hand fell short when Avery didn’t flinch away. Eventually he gave up. Unsatisfied that he was unable to steal from the younger girl.
STATUS: Pending, Ruby, July 3
Quick clarification: What do you mean when you say she didn't have the chance to return home?
STATUS: Approved, Ruby, July 3
Last edited by Avery Gray on 3 Jul 2025, 16:46, edited 1 time in total.
Be the change you wish to see |
||
in the world. |
Ability Applications
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Portkey
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for:Prodigal Defense Against the Dark Arts Learner
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for:Prodigal Defense Against the Dark Arts Learner
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Reducio
“She’s doing it again.” Carolus’s spoon freezes halfway from his mouth as he hears his husband’s voice.
“Lyssandra. She’s looking at her palm again.” The Curse-Breaker sets the spoon back in his bowl of ice cream and looks towards where the little heiress was, indeed, staring at her palm. It was something that guaranteed such concern but the tone of Dion’s voice and the way his heart bled through his lavender eyes that was supposed to reflect his mischief.
Carolus could only offer a silent look of understanding. Lyssand had just finished her First year at Hogwarts as was now home for the summer. There was a change in the air around her, one he thinks was shaped by her experiences and lessons throughout the year.
“Has she been complaining about it?” Dion shook his head.
“No… But what if her silence holds weight? What if… Oh, Merlin… What if it makes her self-concious… or if the blasted artifact had some lingering trace… or—!”
“Dion, breathe. You’re going to start hyperventilating, love.” Carolus takes his husband’s hand in his own and gives it a few squeezes. Dion took deep breaths and squeezed back.
“I know… I’m sorry … I just…” His words fade as Lyssandra approaches them and Carolus has to squeeze his hand again in case he forgets to breathe properly.
Lyssandra, now approaching her Second year, stood a few inches taller than they last saw her and she was bound to grow—physically and magically— as time passed by. Deep blue eyes look at Dion and their interlocked hands and it only took a second before Lyssandra releases a small sigh—even years from now, her dearest cousin still blames himself for being the catalyst of her First Instance of Magic.
“Dion. Carolus.” Dion felt his heart stutter as she greets them.
“H-hey Lyss!”
“Hello, Little Blue.”
“How’re you? By Morgana you’ve grown! How was Hogwarts? Did it exceed your expectations? Before you ask, I pestered Lord Uncle about your grades and trust me, they're phenomenal and—”
“Can you teach me more about Defense Against the Dark Arts?” This time, Dion did sputter, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Carolus took pity on his husband and knelt down on one knee so he could spare her from craning her head all the way up just to meet his eyes.
“Why the sudden interest, Little Blue?” Lyssandra looks at the silvery line of the scar on her palm and then hummed.
“We had homework in class that asked about anything interesting we would like to share about ourselves. I wrote down that I would like to learn and utilize any and all the spells and/or magical arts that I can.” She takes Carolus and Dion’s interlocked hands into both of hers and gives them a smile, a fire burning beneath her gaze.
“And I meant every word. I have all the books I can read herein the family Library but I found myself learning more through visual demonstration and application. So, seeing as I am family with a Curse-Breaker and an Auror, I thought I might excel under both your wings.” Dion bit his lips, uncertainty radiating off of him. He knelt down like his husband, ready to dissuade her if necessary as his fingers brush against the scar that was once bleeding profusely on such tiny hands.
“Lyss…” She shook her head.
“I’ve forgiven you for as long as I can remember, Cousin Dion. You need not apologize every time because I’ll still forgive you no matter how many times you think you’re undeserving of my forgiveness.” Dion’s breath shook as that same scarred hand cups his face as Lyssandra offers him a big smile.
“Instead of wasting your breath apologizing, why don’t you utilize the time and effort to teach me more about the Dark Arts and how I can defend myself.” Carolus chuckled as he bears witness to such a Slytherin display.
‘Cunning and Ambitiousness. Poor Dion. Poor Argentus as well. Yet… I don’t think they’ll mind.’
Dion nods and blinks away tears that threaten to fall. With a deep breath, Dion exhales slowly through his nostrils and with a steady voice he says,
“Very well,” and Carolus smirks as his husband changes into his more professional persona, eyes zeroing on his new mission: teaching Lyssandra. He decided to chime in on the fun.
“Name your objectives.” Lyssandra withdrew her hand and stood in attention before them.
“I want to learn, identify, defend against, and appreciate the intricacies more about everything Dark Magic so I can be a step closer to my desire to learn and utilize any and all the spells and/or magical arts that I can.”
“Prepare yourself. Starting tomorrow, we will be teaching you all that we are allowed to teach you and more so expect no doting from us.” Carolus bit his tongue to prevent himself from snorting at Dion’s words. Sure he can put up such a facade but sooner and later he’ll be back to spoiling her in no time. Still, Lyssandra’s conviction sparks desire in him to teach her all that he knows so he’ll have to keep his comments to himself lest he risks being called a hypocrite by Dion.
Oh well, Carolus can use this as a refresher of sorts for his own Auror training.
Summer was going to be a whole lot more interesting and he had a feeling that this was only the beginning.
“Lyssandra. She’s looking at her palm again.” The Curse-Breaker sets the spoon back in his bowl of ice cream and looks towards where the little heiress was, indeed, staring at her palm. It was something that guaranteed such concern but the tone of Dion’s voice and the way his heart bled through his lavender eyes that was supposed to reflect his mischief.
Carolus could only offer a silent look of understanding. Lyssand had just finished her First year at Hogwarts as was now home for the summer. There was a change in the air around her, one he thinks was shaped by her experiences and lessons throughout the year.
“Has she been complaining about it?” Dion shook his head.
“No… But what if her silence holds weight? What if… Oh, Merlin… What if it makes her self-concious… or if the blasted artifact had some lingering trace… or—!”
“Dion, breathe. You’re going to start hyperventilating, love.” Carolus takes his husband’s hand in his own and gives it a few squeezes. Dion took deep breaths and squeezed back.
“I know… I’m sorry … I just…” His words fade as Lyssandra approaches them and Carolus has to squeeze his hand again in case he forgets to breathe properly.
Lyssandra, now approaching her Second year, stood a few inches taller than they last saw her and she was bound to grow—physically and magically— as time passed by. Deep blue eyes look at Dion and their interlocked hands and it only took a second before Lyssandra releases a small sigh—even years from now, her dearest cousin still blames himself for being the catalyst of her First Instance of Magic.
“Dion. Carolus.” Dion felt his heart stutter as she greets them.
“H-hey Lyss!”
“Hello, Little Blue.”
“How’re you? By Morgana you’ve grown! How was Hogwarts? Did it exceed your expectations? Before you ask, I pestered Lord Uncle about your grades and trust me, they're phenomenal and—”
“Can you teach me more about Defense Against the Dark Arts?” This time, Dion did sputter, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Carolus took pity on his husband and knelt down on one knee so he could spare her from craning her head all the way up just to meet his eyes.
“Why the sudden interest, Little Blue?” Lyssandra looks at the silvery line of the scar on her palm and then hummed.
“We had homework in class that asked about anything interesting we would like to share about ourselves. I wrote down that I would like to learn and utilize any and all the spells and/or magical arts that I can.” She takes Carolus and Dion’s interlocked hands into both of hers and gives them a smile, a fire burning beneath her gaze.
“And I meant every word. I have all the books I can read herein the family Library but I found myself learning more through visual demonstration and application. So, seeing as I am family with a Curse-Breaker and an Auror, I thought I might excel under both your wings.” Dion bit his lips, uncertainty radiating off of him. He knelt down like his husband, ready to dissuade her if necessary as his fingers brush against the scar that was once bleeding profusely on such tiny hands.
“Lyss…” She shook her head.
“I’ve forgiven you for as long as I can remember, Cousin Dion. You need not apologize every time because I’ll still forgive you no matter how many times you think you’re undeserving of my forgiveness.” Dion’s breath shook as that same scarred hand cups his face as Lyssandra offers him a big smile.
“Instead of wasting your breath apologizing, why don’t you utilize the time and effort to teach me more about the Dark Arts and how I can defend myself.” Carolus chuckled as he bears witness to such a Slytherin display.
‘Cunning and Ambitiousness. Poor Dion. Poor Argentus as well. Yet… I don’t think they’ll mind.’
Dion nods and blinks away tears that threaten to fall. With a deep breath, Dion exhales slowly through his nostrils and with a steady voice he says,
“Very well,” and Carolus smirks as his husband changes into his more professional persona, eyes zeroing on his new mission: teaching Lyssandra. He decided to chime in on the fun.
“Name your objectives.” Lyssandra withdrew her hand and stood in attention before them.
“I want to learn, identify, defend against, and appreciate the intricacies more about everything Dark Magic so I can be a step closer to my desire to learn and utilize any and all the spells and/or magical arts that I can.”
“Prepare yourself. Starting tomorrow, we will be teaching you all that we are allowed to teach you and more so expect no doting from us.” Carolus bit his tongue to prevent himself from snorting at Dion’s words. Sure he can put up such a facade but sooner and later he’ll be back to spoiling her in no time. Still, Lyssandra’s conviction sparks desire in him to teach her all that he knows so he’ll have to keep his comments to himself lest he risks being called a hypocrite by Dion.
Oh well, Carolus can use this as a refresher of sorts for his own Auror training.
Summer was going to be a whole lot more interesting and he had a feeling that this was only the beginning.
STATUS: Approved, Ruby, July 3
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|| STA 5 || EVA 6 || STR 4 || STATS WIS 6 || ARC 8 || ACC 6| | |
~“Familia praesertim, omnia pro Familia”~
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Prodigal D.A.D.A Learner||TBA||TBA L.A.N. Prodigal Charms Learner||TBA||TBA
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Ability Applications
Link to your encyclopedia thread: viewtopic.php?f=169&t=31513
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: spell spread
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: spell spread
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Reducio
Why settle for one target when you could take out the entire team of your opponents?
Since first feeling the invigorating thrill of the duelling team, whether born out of en- or discouragement from the matches he had won and lost, Archer had only been focusing on how to improve himself. Gruelling training paired with a heart that never settled for less, he pushed himself forward despite falling off the track after his first duel. Instead of allowing himself to waste time away being sorrowful, he harnessed all that anger and disappointment into a more forceful strike and with a side of control where needed, it worked.
So Archer, in the spirit of perpetual self-improvement, whether or not the acclaimed development caused degradation of spirit, found himself interested in mastering the skill of targeting several targets at the same time, and more importantly — hitting them.
After some minimal studying watching his upperclassmen practice the skill in the duelling room and flipping through heavy books on the martial art, hubris assured him that he could do it easily. Admittedly, splitting a spell was quite rudimentary work to him. It was simply thinking for the spell to go into two directions, envisioning it knocking two targets back and spreading the effect across them. Though easy in theory, Archer soon encountered trouble with the backfires and more often than not, he ended up with a singed sleeve or a bruise on his back. None of those had very stopped him from continuing though. What was even more difficult to master, however, was his accuracy. As he would have expected, focusing on two at once took more off his individual accuracy for one. Often, spells missed, flying past his targets as if they had a mind of their own, sometimes so wildly that they hit somebody else entirely. With the ambition and the unyielding drive to do well on the piste, however, he was preserving until he could, without any thought of stopping or giving up.
After some accuracy sacrificed and certainly more than a couple dummies lying prone on the floor, Archer could finally confidently claim he knew something much more than a party trick. His spells could spread to multiple targets, and soon the vipers would be equipped with a new strategy come the autumn stage. Go big or go home indeed, and after a summer spent in its suffocating interior, he was certainly not going home.
Why settle for one target when you could take out the entire team of your opponents?
Since first feeling the invigorating thrill of the duelling team, whether born out of en- or discouragement from the matches he had won and lost, Archer had only been focusing on how to improve himself. Gruelling training paired with a heart that never settled for less, he pushed himself forward despite falling off the track after his first duel. Instead of allowing himself to waste time away being sorrowful, he harnessed all that anger and disappointment into a more forceful strike and with a side of control where needed, it worked.
So Archer, in the spirit of perpetual self-improvement, whether or not the acclaimed development caused degradation of spirit, found himself interested in mastering the skill of targeting several targets at the same time, and more importantly — hitting them.
After some minimal studying watching his upperclassmen practice the skill in the duelling room and flipping through heavy books on the martial art, hubris assured him that he could do it easily. Admittedly, splitting a spell was quite rudimentary work to him. It was simply thinking for the spell to go into two directions, envisioning it knocking two targets back and spreading the effect across them. Though easy in theory, Archer soon encountered trouble with the backfires and more often than not, he ended up with a singed sleeve or a bruise on his back. None of those had very stopped him from continuing though. What was even more difficult to master, however, was his accuracy. As he would have expected, focusing on two at once took more off his individual accuracy for one. Often, spells missed, flying past his targets as if they had a mind of their own, sometimes so wildly that they hit somebody else entirely. With the ambition and the unyielding drive to do well on the piste, however, he was preserving until he could, without any thought of stopping or giving up.
After some accuracy sacrificed and certainly more than a couple dummies lying prone on the floor, Archer could finally confidently claim he knew something much more than a party trick. His spells could spread to multiple targets, and soon the vipers would be equipped with a new strategy come the autumn stage. Go big or go home indeed, and after a summer spent in its suffocating interior, he was certainly not going home.
STATUS: Approved, Ruby, July 3
I am not even singed. My wings are untouched. You use them for everything, except flight.
Liliya Starkova| Anthonie Engelbrecht
Liliya Starkova| Anthonie Engelbrecht
Ability Applications
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Here!
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: The Muggle Condition
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
"I'd rather be heartless, than have my heart in pieces"
-Calming Presence- The Muggle Condition
iNPC: Hikari Fujimoto
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: The Muggle Condition
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Reducio
Pam had loved the magical world since she had been introduced to it. Yet, she still missed some of the joys of the non-magical world. She sometimes wondered who the wizarding world did not seem to use anything at all from the muggle world. Well, excluding all those entitled pureblood kids who thought themselves better than everyone else, Pam could understand then not using anything muggle. Then again, she hadn't had the bad luck to run into any such person yet. She'd only heard about it from her friends.
For example the use of owls. Pam supposed they were the equivalent of mail. Then again, post mail hadn't been used in the muggle world since forever. Phones and texts were much more convenient, if you asked for her opinion. Besides, magic was, well magic. Pam would have expected the Wizarding community to have come up with something even better than telephones. Even then, the owl system was pretty convenient; most of the owls Pam had dealt with, before Lumi, were intelligent creatures, yet Pam found the process to be extremely old-fashioned. She missed the comfort of her phone sometimes.
God, the music. Pam hadn't been able to understand the level of attachment she'd had to music before she had come to Hogwarts. Yet another thing which was seemingly old-fashioned. She had never actually expected to see a gramophone in real life. It had seemed more like things meant for stories her father told her about his grandparents.
Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration.
Nevertheless, she badly missed the availability and ease of listening to music online, and the general comfort of her phone. Well, her dad's phone. It didn't matter. How did the people here survive without the internet? And seriously, why weren't they allowed at Hogwarts? Pam had read in the Percy Jackson series that demigods couldn't use phones because they attracted monsters? Was there a similar case here too?
Another thing that bothered Pam was the self-defense part. Pam knew that they weren't allowed to use magic outside of school, and that gave rise to the question: how did the students who had lived their whole lives in the Wizarding World protect themselves? Did they never get into danger? Pam had finally understood why her father had signed her up for karate classes when she had been nine. She had spent a lot of time thanking him in her head. She wasn't nearly as good as some of the kids in her class had been, but she knew her stuff. She knew her punches, and she also knew where it would hurt like hell. Atleast within the school walls, that would suffice. Hopefully. She would ask her father to sign her up for more during the term holidays.
She had seen people, the older years magic their way through some daily activities. Switching off lights, getting books or clothes from their trunks; the levitation spell seemed to be used by almost everyone everywhere. Pam would still get up to turn off the lights manually, or collect books from her table.
She recalled reading about magical cooking, and she knew for sure that she would definitely stay away from that. Admittedly, she did not know much spells to use for the purpose just yet, but she baked pretty often, even before she had come to Hogwarts. Making food, and baking, she would definitely continue the muggle way, with her hands. There was a different kind of joy in mixing the batter herself, which could not come from using magic.
At the end of the day, the difference was hard to deal with and way too sudden. She had a hard time coping with the lack of technology, and she terribly missed the movies and kdramas she would watch back at home. She didn't quite like the hostel concept of the school and terribly missed her father. And sometimes? The magic just made her feel like she couldn't breathe. But it was alright. Pam, if nothing, was extremely good at adjusting.
WC: 671
For example the use of owls. Pam supposed they were the equivalent of mail. Then again, post mail hadn't been used in the muggle world since forever. Phones and texts were much more convenient, if you asked for her opinion. Besides, magic was, well magic. Pam would have expected the Wizarding community to have come up with something even better than telephones. Even then, the owl system was pretty convenient; most of the owls Pam had dealt with, before Lumi, were intelligent creatures, yet Pam found the process to be extremely old-fashioned. She missed the comfort of her phone sometimes.
God, the music. Pam hadn't been able to understand the level of attachment she'd had to music before she had come to Hogwarts. Yet another thing which was seemingly old-fashioned. She had never actually expected to see a gramophone in real life. It had seemed more like things meant for stories her father told her about his grandparents.
Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration.
Nevertheless, she badly missed the availability and ease of listening to music online, and the general comfort of her phone. Well, her dad's phone. It didn't matter. How did the people here survive without the internet? And seriously, why weren't they allowed at Hogwarts? Pam had read in the Percy Jackson series that demigods couldn't use phones because they attracted monsters? Was there a similar case here too?
Another thing that bothered Pam was the self-defense part. Pam knew that they weren't allowed to use magic outside of school, and that gave rise to the question: how did the students who had lived their whole lives in the Wizarding World protect themselves? Did they never get into danger? Pam had finally understood why her father had signed her up for karate classes when she had been nine. She had spent a lot of time thanking him in her head. She wasn't nearly as good as some of the kids in her class had been, but she knew her stuff. She knew her punches, and she also knew where it would hurt like hell. Atleast within the school walls, that would suffice. Hopefully. She would ask her father to sign her up for more during the term holidays.
She had seen people, the older years magic their way through some daily activities. Switching off lights, getting books or clothes from their trunks; the levitation spell seemed to be used by almost everyone everywhere. Pam would still get up to turn off the lights manually, or collect books from her table.
She recalled reading about magical cooking, and she knew for sure that she would definitely stay away from that. Admittedly, she did not know much spells to use for the purpose just yet, but she baked pretty often, even before she had come to Hogwarts. Making food, and baking, she would definitely continue the muggle way, with her hands. There was a different kind of joy in mixing the batter herself, which could not come from using magic.
At the end of the day, the difference was hard to deal with and way too sudden. She had a hard time coping with the lack of technology, and she terribly missed the movies and kdramas she would watch back at home. She didn't quite like the hostel concept of the school and terribly missed her father. And sometimes? The magic just made her feel like she couldn't breathe. But it was alright. Pam, if nothing, was extremely good at adjusting.
WC: 671
STATUS: Pending, Ruby, July 3
This ability grants the character +3 to accuracy rolls on non-magical attacks and actions. Please focus a bit more on Pamela's actions, creativity with the tools she uses, and/or doing things by hand. The mention of karate classes hints at this, but it's only a couple of sentences of the application.
STATUS: Approved, Ruby, July 4
Last edited by Pamela Graham on 4 Jul 2025, 03:28, edited 1 time in total.
"I'd rather be heartless, than have my heart in pieces"
-Calming Presence- The Muggle Condition
iNPC: Hikari Fujimoto
Ability Applications
For Year one:
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Damien Dragonclaw
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Chaser interpretation
Describe why this fits your character: 434/400ReducioDamien had never really heard much about qudditch growing up as his father wasn’t one for sports and his mother she would sometimes watch the qudditch matches but never enough to where Damien could get interested in it. It wasn’t till he came to Hogwarts that he really got more exposed to Quidditch and expressed an interest in joining the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. He wanted to tryout for chaser but he knew to do that he would need alot of practice and find someone who knew about Quidditch who would be willing to help him. So he turned to his friend or he liked to Believe they were friends, Harlan Montgomery. Damien fighting having Harlan help him practice once in awhile on the Quidditch pitch would definitely help him be a tad bit better so when he went to tryout for the teams he hopefully had a better shot. Luckily for Damien Harlan had two brooms that he used for broom racing so he allowed Damien to use one of them so it be easier to help him practice. As they started to practice Damien would try and intercept the quaffle but no matter how hard he tried he could never manage to intercept it before Harlan scored. So every week when they would practice Damien would work harder and harder to try and intercept the quaffle before Harlan scored. He was really motivated as he wanted to be a great chaser and he knew the only way to achieve that is to work harder and pratice to get better. After a few weeks of practicing Damien was starting to see major improvements. He was getting better at predicting where Harlan would fly too and would get closer to intercepting the quaffle, though he still needed to work on that as he gotten closer but wasn’t quite there yet. He was determined to never give up and for three weeks straight he trained without a break so he could finally intercept the quaffle before Harlan scored on him. As they played what may be there last pratice match of sorts Harlan was heading straight to the goal to score but Damien quickly caught up to him and had finally managed to do it. He had successfully intercepted the quaffle and score agansit Harlan. He was so extremely proud of himself as working hard and never giving up seemed to work wonders for him. He thanked Harlan for helping him pratice and get better as it meant quite a lot to him that without him he would have never been able to intercept the quaffle.
STATUS: Pending, Ruby, July 4
Just reaching out to Harlan to confirm that you have permission to mention him in this way.
STATUS: Approved, Ruby/Silas, July 7
for Year two:
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Damien Dragonclaw
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Prodigal Astronomy Learner
Describe why this fits your character: 445/400
ReducioDamien was sitting in his room looking outside his window watching as snow fell down onto the concrete ground of the Dragonclaw manor as well as there garden. Suddenly there was a knock at his door, as he turned to look to see who it was he noticed it was his mother peaking her head in as if she was waiting to see if she could come in. “Damien my dear, am I allowed to come in ?” His mother Evanora asked in a sweet and loving tone as she smiled at him. Damien nodded his head as his mother walked into his room holding some sort of object keeping it hidden behind her back as she spoke to him. “Now I know that your seventh birthday is coming up shortly so I thought why not get you a early birthday present” She said as she slowly moved the object from behind her back revealing it to be a book on Astronomy as well as the cosmos. Damien stared at the book before gently taking it and staring at it before looking through the pages and looking at his mother. “Thank you mother” He said as he smiled at her softly before she nodded and gracefully walked out his room. As he watched her leave he sat down on his bed before deciding to read the book and see what it was about. This was his introduction into Astronomy and everything relating to it as thanks to his mother giving him that book she opened the door for him to learn more about Astronomy and turn it into a hobby of his as he grew up. The year he turned 11 he got his Hogwarts letter and was so excited to go especially when his mother told him there was an astronomy class. His mother decided to give him his gift early again like she did when he was 7 this time it was a new astronomy book that on the cove had property of Damien Dragonclaw embroider on it as well as including the Dragonclaw symbol. Damien loved it as it was a reflection of who he was as a person as well as a way to keep his love of astronomy close to him as well as a memory of his mother for him to look at and think about her whenever he got homesick. He thanked his mother for the book making a promise cherished it and vowed to always use it while he was at Hogwarts. And he kept true to his word carrying it everywhere he went and even writing notes on pages of new things he learnt about certain topics.
STATUS: Approved, Ruby, July 4
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