DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to encyclopedia blublub
Name of ability The Martial Artist
Describe why this fits your character
Martial arts has always been an outlet for Eri Windstone. From a young age her Aunt wanted to raise the perfect girl. One who had perfect manners and always knew what to say or how to act. This was not what Eri wanted for herself. So when she turned five she finally was able to convince her aunt Evelyn to let her take karate classes. A week later she also signed up for taekwondo. The discipline and hard work needed for both classes was something the young girl needed. Wanted to prove that she could be strong and do something other than being a proper lady.
Many years of hard work and training went into this passion for martial arts. Most of the time spent at home was dedicated to training. Whether it was going over techniques or doing exercises like push ups and sometimes weight training. Dedication is what led her to her black belt in taekwondo. Having worked hard to master the techniques she now strives for the next degree of black belt.
At age thirteen she finally earned her black belt in karate. She was also looking for a new martial arts to take part in. She wasn't done with her training in Taekwondo and karate, but she wanted more of this life. Something about perfecting kicks and punches and being able to protect herself and others if the need ever arrived made her feel happy.
Sparring and grappling had to be the favorite part of any martial arts class she took part in. Going one on one against a fellow peer to test the skills they had both learned in the same class and learn how to adapt those skills to be most efficient in a fight was what Eri loved to do. Every sparring match her patterns would change in order to stay unpredictable. Light on her feet never staying still for more than a second. Eyes always on the opponent so they can't guess where the next strike will be.
For grappling it was the submission moves that she loved. You didn't have to be the strongest to win, as long as you could keep yourself from getting pinned and put in a submission move there was always a chance. Her favorite move was the arm bar. Either that or the rear naked choke.
Everything learned in those classes is dangerous and the most important thing she learned was these moves were only supposed to be used in self defense. To protect ones self if something every happened.
STATUS: ApprovedWord count443
{"Mistakes are forgivable if one has the courage to admit them." Bruce lee} Eri Windstone.
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to Encyclopedia Thread: Merle Corbyn
Name of Ability or Race: Parselmouth
Describe why it Fits my Character:
Her temper had gotten the best of her. Again. Which granted, was nothing new, given that Merle had realize her fight or flight instinct tended much more towards the former than the later. Still, none of that was an appropriate excuse for shoving her cousin Janus so hard he'd tripped over a rock on the garden by the porch. No matter how much the young nine year old felt the boy had deserved it for being a right git.
The boy had taken a nasty tumble, and though her grandmother had noticed instantly and was almost upon them as the accident was happening, she was not there fast enough to stop the child from knocking his head roughly on the ground. The old woman had helped her cousin up and then turned a disapproving gaze upon Merle herself, "Physicality and brute force is not an acceptable way to win an argument, young lady, and surely no way to change someone's opinion," the words were snapped, harsh and strong from such a mild mannered, usually calm old lady, "Remember, child, violence begets more violence. You would do well to remember that," then quieter, almost under her voice as she led the boy away, "We all should do well to remember that... always."
It wasn't that Merle did not agree. She did; she was smart enough to realized she'd mucked things up as soon as her hands had pressed against the boy's chest and shoved him off balance. She knew that any righteousness she might have had as they'd been arguing had fled the moment her hands came into contact with him. He'd been a right berk, but it had been no excuse to be a berk back at him, and deep down, what hurt more was the knowledge that she had disappointed her grandmother in doing so.
She knew better, and she had behaved terribly.
And no sooner had her grandmother led her cousin back inside, Merle had stomped and fumed away, further into the yard until she'd found a large, flat boulder, and had sat upon it. She'd pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged herself, her head laying down there as she tried not to sniffle. She was having only a mild success of it, but she figured she'd be able to collect herself successfully before the sun started to dip and she'd be forced to take refuge within the large estate house once more. The building was not as huge a comfort as her much smaller house, back in the north, but it was familiar, and the looming presence made her feel secure as she looked over the meadow and forest that lined her grandmother's unfenced estate. It always amazed her how much wilderness there was when they were so close to a big city such as London.
Merle remain there, with her head pillowed on her knees for a long while before a voice interrupted her thoughts <<Girl sad...>> the voice whispered, and she lifted her head to look around the grass, her eyes falling upon the trees a distance away before she looked back at the estate building behind her. She did a full sweep of her surroundings before scrunching her nose in confusion, <<Perhaps... Girl hungry?>> the voice was soft, confused as she felt, and again she made a cursory look around the boulder, <<Girl eat mice? Mice not out yet. Later...>> a pause followed, and finally Merle was able to spot a small reptilian head that had slithered up upon her boulder.
The creature was small, unassuming, really, with a small, flat head and a long body that slithered up to curl on the boulder, it's belly smooth over the warm surface. It looked mostly brown, with a light colored band on the upper section of it's neck, followed by a black one right after, and Merle had spent enough time in the countryside to identify it for what it was; a little garden snake. It was not the first one she'd seen in her Grandmother's garden, but it was certainly the first one she'd ever heard speak, making the girl wonder if she'd somehow fallen asleep on the boulder and was having some sort of weird dream.
<<Perhaps Girl cold?>> the snake mused, apparently not needing her input to continue the one sided conversation. Its eyes were watching her from it's spot on the boulder, and Merle wasn't sure why she'd expected the creature to have slit pupils, like those of a cat, but it did not; the snake was watching her unblinkingly, with large, round eyes, it's pupils wide and dark like the night, reflecting no emotion back at her. It was a very disconcerting dissonance, because the voice had inflection and emotion, but she saw none of that in the small creature as it flicked it's tongue, <<Girl should lay on rock. Rock warm. Take away the cold. Warm belly... Warm always better,>> it said with finality.
Merle's voice wavered slightly as she finally answered <<"I'm not cold... or hungry,">> she said softly, <<"I'm disappointed in myself. I did a bad thing. I was wrong.">>
There was silence for a while, a quiet during which the girl turned away from the creature and nearly forgot it'd intruded upon her solitude until it spoke up again <<When hunt fails, and mouse gets away... this one tries again. Better next time. Grow better. Stronger, faster. No use sad. No use mad,>> it's head turned away from her, tongue flicking out to taste the air as it uncurled and left the safety of the rock, moving towards the grass again, <<Next time always better than previous. Learn with many tries, yes?>> before it left, it turned to pin her with the strange, reptilian look, <<Girl learn in time too. Time to hunt for this one. Sun leaves soon. Cold soon.>>
And that said, it vanished. Merle did not tell her Grandmother about the small garden snake, but she never forgot it's words.
WC: 1011
StatsStamina - 4
Evasion - 7
Strength - 2
Wisdom - 4
ArcPower - 6
Accuracy - 7
STATUS: Approved
Thank you, finally a wholesome parselmouth.
Last edited by Merle Corbyn on 6 Feb 2021, 04:15, edited 3 times in total.
M. C
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: viewtopic.php?f=169&t=1065
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Blindvision
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): Kaegen was raised in the fens. He spent most of his life in foggy mists, surrounded by creatures and traps of the natural sort. So naturally, he dodged and weaved and ran and scampered his way through the little passages he knew were safe, through the hidden highways in the trees that he knew wouldn't be concealing a predator. His life has always been shrouded in darkness, in mystery, in brambles so thick that the sunlight couldn't dare penetrate to the depths that gave refuge to the shivering half-vampire. When his eyes were too tired, when he could no longer keep them open, but sleep still refused to overtake him, he would listen. He would smell, and feel, and sense the air blowing through his tangled hair, and gradually, things started to make sense. He was safest in the dark only if he knew where he was, and only if he knew where everyone else was. He could only pray to the clouds that covered the harsh light of the moon if he, too, benefited.
Even predators needed some light to see, but Kaegen didn't. He gradually developed a talent that allowed him to outwit nature, to stay one step ahead of the beings that vied for dominance in the dark recesses of the fens.
When you have nothing and no one that you can truly trust, you learn to grasp hold of what you do have. You learn to seize by both hands the little flickers of self-reliance that manifest themselves in your talents and senses. What he could perceive was all he had, his senses were his heroes, his gods. Without them, he would have died time and again, without his ability to see things coming nothing would ever have to see him coming ever again. His eyes were sharp, but only when they had some light. In darkness, his claw like fingernails would trace surfaces, his ears would listen for echos, rebounding sound, the nearby smell of mildewed wall.
The fens had been a good teacher, but it was only after he had relocated to the basements and holes, the corners and recesses of hogwarts' labyrinths did he truly begin to realize the extent of his ability. He couldn't run fast in the pitch blackness of the dungeon, not unless he practiced. And practice he did. Laying awake for hours, breathing and trying to detect what his breath was doing, where was it going, what did that mean? Most of his time was spent in hiding, and it was in hiding that his senses truly blossomed into what they had always been capable of becoming. Darkness didn't matter to him, fog had no effect, the blinding light of the sun was hardly a hindrance. He wasn't the most dangerous thing in those dungeons, but he was close to being the most suited for his environment. A product of his environment, the monster of hogwarts.
IN CASE YOU ARE APPLYING FOR A SPECIAL RACE OR RARE TALENT:
Stamina: 5
Evasion: 15
Strength: 5
Wisdom: 8
ArcPower: 3
Accuracy: 9
STATUS: Pending
Shade-Beacon, Master of the Castle of Avarice
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Blindvision
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): Kaegen was raised in the fens. He spent most of his life in foggy mists, surrounded by creatures and traps of the natural sort. So naturally, he dodged and weaved and ran and scampered his way through the little passages he knew were safe, through the hidden highways in the trees that he knew wouldn't be concealing a predator. His life has always been shrouded in darkness, in mystery, in brambles so thick that the sunlight couldn't dare penetrate to the depths that gave refuge to the shivering half-vampire. When his eyes were too tired, when he could no longer keep them open, but sleep still refused to overtake him, he would listen. He would smell, and feel, and sense the air blowing through his tangled hair, and gradually, things started to make sense. He was safest in the dark only if he knew where he was, and only if he knew where everyone else was. He could only pray to the clouds that covered the harsh light of the moon if he, too, benefited.
Even predators needed some light to see, but Kaegen didn't. He gradually developed a talent that allowed him to outwit nature, to stay one step ahead of the beings that vied for dominance in the dark recesses of the fens.
When you have nothing and no one that you can truly trust, you learn to grasp hold of what you do have. You learn to seize by both hands the little flickers of self-reliance that manifest themselves in your talents and senses. What he could perceive was all he had, his senses were his heroes, his gods. Without them, he would have died time and again, without his ability to see things coming nothing would ever have to see him coming ever again. His eyes were sharp, but only when they had some light. In darkness, his claw like fingernails would trace surfaces, his ears would listen for echos, rebounding sound, the nearby smell of mildewed wall.
The fens had been a good teacher, but it was only after he had relocated to the basements and holes, the corners and recesses of hogwarts' labyrinths did he truly begin to realize the extent of his ability. He couldn't run fast in the pitch blackness of the dungeon, not unless he practiced. And practice he did. Laying awake for hours, breathing and trying to detect what his breath was doing, where was it going, what did that mean? Most of his time was spent in hiding, and it was in hiding that his senses truly blossomed into what they had always been capable of becoming. Darkness didn't matter to him, fog had no effect, the blinding light of the sun was hardly a hindrance. He wasn't the most dangerous thing in those dungeons, but he was close to being the most suited for his environment. A product of his environment, the monster of hogwarts.
IN CASE YOU ARE APPLYING FOR A SPECIAL RACE OR RARE TALENT:
Stamina: 5
Evasion: 15
Strength: 5
Wisdom: 8
ArcPower: 3
Accuracy: 9
STATUS: Pending
Mod note: I noticed that your history is basically non-existant. You are a returning player but it can't stay that way so if you choose to be active again, you have to meet certain criteria with your character. First is to have a history. For that I ask you to re-register for Index.
Shade-Beacon, Master of the Castle of Avarice
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Encyclopedia
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Foulplay
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): Growing up, there was little more that the boys of the McCowan family loved to do more than play quidditch, albeit a watered down version suitable for children entirely unable to fly. Under the joyous tutelage of their father, Nicholas and his younger brothers would act as if they were participating in the World Cup, stealing victory from the English at the last moment and bringing the trophy home. The only thing better than playing quidditch was watching the game itself, and many such days of his youth were spent with his family taking the long trip out to Ballycastle to see the Bats defend their home ground from their various opponents.
It was in watching these matches that Nicholas finally became accustomed to the concept of planned fouls, the deliberate violation of the game's rules in order to benefit the team. Whereas his father was aghast at their use, Nicholas was intrigued, they were not breaking the game, after all there were inbuilt punishments for their use. Rather, they were tactical decisions made after calculating the risk to the relative benefit. Swiftly, he became more of a fan of blatching and the ensuing debacles than he did of the star chasers taking on the keeper.
This interest followed the boy to the games against his brothers, much to the vast disappointment of his parents and the elation of his younger brothers. As if all at once, their familial games had evolved from throwing and dodging into very physical tests of aggression, the type that required their father to referee to ensure that the actual rules of the game were kept to and the lads wouldn't descend into legitimate scuffles. Naturally, the boys became much better at keeping such fouls from the watchful eyes of their equal parts disappointed and proud father.
Where this tactic began to unravel was when Nicholas first attempted to bring his tactic of foulplay and creative applications of the rules outside of the sporting pitch. Attempts to cheat and sneak looks in school in order to better his own position resulted in many snaps on the wrist with a ruler and many a lecture. Whilst, on some level, the boy understood that cheating was wrong and unfair, he also understood that it was a skillset in its own right. A skillset that would allow him to advance further in many facets of his life. He weighed the risks against the rewards, and should the latter be enough to justify the former, he was no such stranger to taking them. Especially as he became better at making it less and less obvious when he was, indeed, cheating.
For it was the boy's natural drive and absolute desire for success that served as the fuel for his utilisation of underhanded tactics. A want to be the best, and to achieve those goals by any means, can lead one down a path that may not align with proper action. As his determination outweighs his fear of consequence, or his care for the rules, Nicholas has begun to rely more and more on violations of the rules. By natural consequence, he has gotten better and better at keeping such violations from the prying eyes of those who would judge.
[540 Words]
STATUS: Approved
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Foulplay
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): Growing up, there was little more that the boys of the McCowan family loved to do more than play quidditch, albeit a watered down version suitable for children entirely unable to fly. Under the joyous tutelage of their father, Nicholas and his younger brothers would act as if they were participating in the World Cup, stealing victory from the English at the last moment and bringing the trophy home. The only thing better than playing quidditch was watching the game itself, and many such days of his youth were spent with his family taking the long trip out to Ballycastle to see the Bats defend their home ground from their various opponents.
It was in watching these matches that Nicholas finally became accustomed to the concept of planned fouls, the deliberate violation of the game's rules in order to benefit the team. Whereas his father was aghast at their use, Nicholas was intrigued, they were not breaking the game, after all there were inbuilt punishments for their use. Rather, they were tactical decisions made after calculating the risk to the relative benefit. Swiftly, he became more of a fan of blatching and the ensuing debacles than he did of the star chasers taking on the keeper.
This interest followed the boy to the games against his brothers, much to the vast disappointment of his parents and the elation of his younger brothers. As if all at once, their familial games had evolved from throwing and dodging into very physical tests of aggression, the type that required their father to referee to ensure that the actual rules of the game were kept to and the lads wouldn't descend into legitimate scuffles. Naturally, the boys became much better at keeping such fouls from the watchful eyes of their equal parts disappointed and proud father.
Where this tactic began to unravel was when Nicholas first attempted to bring his tactic of foulplay and creative applications of the rules outside of the sporting pitch. Attempts to cheat and sneak looks in school in order to better his own position resulted in many snaps on the wrist with a ruler and many a lecture. Whilst, on some level, the boy understood that cheating was wrong and unfair, he also understood that it was a skillset in its own right. A skillset that would allow him to advance further in many facets of his life. He weighed the risks against the rewards, and should the latter be enough to justify the former, he was no such stranger to taking them. Especially as he became better at making it less and less obvious when he was, indeed, cheating.
For it was the boy's natural drive and absolute desire for success that served as the fuel for his utilisation of underhanded tactics. A want to be the best, and to achieve those goals by any means, can lead one down a path that may not align with proper action. As his determination outweighs his fear of consequence, or his care for the rules, Nicholas has begun to rely more and more on violations of the rules. By natural consequence, he has gotten better and better at keeping such violations from the prying eyes of those who would judge.
[540 Words]
STATUS: Approved
Vae Victis| Speech: #5C2B2B
I am best reached through discord
I am best reached through discord
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: LINK
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: seer
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):cooper could see the moon from the car window. it was full tonight. it was beautiful and had caught his eye only moments before. he sat there wondering what it would be like to climb a giant ladder all the way to the moon. space had always fascinated him. it was an unknown world to him and he wanted to know more. he would often ask his father question after question about it, and to his credit, richard ray would answer to the best of his ability but honestly didn't know much about the subject.
but tonight cooper ray was watching it intently when he felt the hairs on the back of his head stand on end and his heartbeat quicken to breakneck speed. he barely had time to register what was happening when suddenly the scenery changed around him. he was no longer in the car but was sitting in his car seat on the side of the road. a large CRASH startled him and he watched as the familiar car that his parents drove rolled down the street, hitting the car behind them and causing even more cars to get involved with the crash.
cooper watched with wide eyes as the crash happened before him. his body shivering in uncontrolled fear. where was his mommy, where was his daddy? why was he no longer in the car with his parents? after moments of frozen shock, tears began to fall down his cheeks and he began to scream. he wanted his mommy, wanted his daddy. where were they and why had they not come to get him yet? he screamed for attention and struggled in his car seat. he was strapped in and couldn't get out. he couldn't run to find his mother and father.
and then a woman he didn't know came running to see him and this made cooper scream even louder. he wanted his mommy and daddy, not this strange woman who came to unstrap him. she began to speak to him in soft, calming tones, but this didn't help to relieve his stress. he heard her ask how he'd gotten on the side of the street, but he didn't know the answer, and even if he did, he couldn't stop screaming.
------------------------------------------------------
he watched as his sister poured through their parent's boxes and other items. cooper could tell that she was upset because she was short-tempered with him. she kept telling him not to touch anything, saying that he might ruin something if he did. especially with the weird things happening around him lately. he shifted at the edge of the room hoping that she would invite him to help her. he didn't want to do anything else anyway. he didn't want to play with his toys and watching the telly didn't sound interesting either. he missed his parents just as much as claudia did and wanted to help her in any way that he could.
so while she was reading, cooper sighed and then walked out of the room and went outside into the back yard. his eyes drifted upward into the treehouse that his mother used to climb up into. cooper was too young at the time and even now he wasn't allowed to go up the ladder without his sister being in the back yard with him, but he missed his mother dearly and wanted to be close to her. he glanced behind him, making sure claudia wasn't watching him and then he made his way over to the treehouse and began to climb up.
he sat inside the treehouse for a good ten minutes before he noticed a small trunk in the corner. but before now he'd always been in the treehouse with his mother and she'd never allowed him to look in the box before. after her death, cooper had just forgotten about it. but now that he saw it, he was curious to find out what was inside. so he crawled over and opened the chest up to reveal several things. one... it looked bigger on the inside than it did on the outside. and two, he found plenty of old... photos? couldn't possibly be photos. because they moved.
he watched them for awhile, caught up in how cool these photos were, before his sister called out for him. "are you in the treehouse cooper? you know you're not allowed to be up there by yourself!"
"sissy! you have to come see this!"
so she climbed the ladder to see what he was doing and the two of them looked through the images in awe. there was also a journal which claudia began to read. it wasn't until later that he learned that their mother's grandmother was a seer. something that emerie found out in her teen years. there was also a wizard family tree for their mother's side of the family. there was nothing regarding their father. though this journal was the first incling that claudia had that clued her in to what was happening to cooper and why weird stuff tended to happen around him.850 WORDSSTATUS: ApprovedStats: Stamina - 3 ● Evasion - 5 ● Strength - 3 ● Wisdom - 6 ● ArcPower - 7 ● Accuracy - 6
"intelligence without ambition is like a bird without wings." --Salvador Dali
STA - 4 ● EV - 5 ● STR - 4 ● WIS - 7 ● AP - 8 ● ACC - 7
STA - 4 ● EV - 5 ● STR - 4 ● WIS - 7 ● AP - 8 ● ACC - 7
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
STATUS: ApprovedLink to your encyclopedia thread: Levi Drakos
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Metamorphmagus
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): WC: 722
ReducioAmong the magical creatures that roam alongside wizards everywhere they’re found, there are those with not entirely different blood in their veins but a different talent in their genes: Metamorphmagi. Rubbing shoulders with them, a man called Myers Kallis of a pureblooded wizard family home to the Republic of Cyprus. This talent goes back in his family for generations, tending most often to skip a generation and strike it all at once as it did with Myers and his siblings. However, his illegitimate child—Levi Drakos—possesses this talent unknowing of how it came to find him. Myers would marvel at the sight of his blue moon, as it was expected to be his grandchildren to share it, but Katerina and Evander Drakos—the couple believed to both be the parents of said child—do not share in that awe.
This isn’t to say they were not stricken when Levi’s eyes flickered an intense scarlet in the midst of a nightmarish tantrum when the boy was four years old. This having been after the Playpen Incident of ’12, when a sister of Myers’ explained how the web they’d found themselves in years ago was stickier than either could fathom, they could briefly write it off to be a trick of the light, or “characteristic of all those things” as Evander would spit it. But time dragged on, and no explanation showed to their doorstep for their son’s temporary winter tan or flashing blonde hair in child-like admiration of his father (“oh would you look at that, he finally looks like me!”), and they were left to their lonesome deductions and guesses, all the two would ever create together. To this day, the two have yet to directly confront Levi about his supposed gift.
Unbeknownst to his guardians, however, he met a woman who’d done the very thing they’d dreaded, seen her in the most hushed time of night, under the dimmest light, learned of his talent in weak and songful whispers. He couldn’t have been older than nine. The recollection was hazy, dream-like, remembered either in blinding contrast or with a morose lack of saturation, so much so that the young lion had long since credited her existence to the confines of his imagination. Though the visuals were always fading further away as he grew older, the words would stay latched to him as damp leeches, her teachings and hungered for explanations.
For context on this woman: it is his aunt, sister to his biological father and the very same one that first explained magic to his guardians.
When Levi woke the following dawn, her warm-toned glimmering hair still fresh in his mind, nothing held him back from the nearest mirror, waiting for his reflection to shift, not match the millions of pictures of him that lined the spirited hallway from end to end. And, with all the zeal that splintered every bit of discontent he had ever felt, there was no reaction of pride, of life from the reflection but when he lifted his own left hand to his hair and it followed obediently. It was only when that stinging disappointment settled into his soul, burrowing its home down in the crypts void of sound that his eyes melted to an ice-cold blue and his youthful smile wasn’t the only thing that changed. Those once hazel eyes were always the feature that bowed quickest to the wills of his heart when it could not be silenced.
Though as a first year his skill in metamorphing remains amateur and powerfully influenced by his emotions, it is something he continues to work on in private, when the pressure of a critical gaze can’t send him whirling through all the better things to be. Whether this means staring intently at his nails, hell bent on watching them grow longer, or envisioning what fate carries for him in its back pocket to watch the thrill come to life in his brightening eyes. In an odd sense, it is a physical embodiment of that unrelenting craving to be someone new, someone he carves from rock to statue leaving no detail to the elements. He is not yet drenched in power, surrounded by mutual respect and rising dams, but every day Levi strives along sunbeams to make it there, and being a Metamorphmagus is part of that.
Stats: Stamina: 4 | Evasion: 6 | Strength: 4 | Wisdom: 5 | Arcane Power: 5 | Accuracy: 6
One may smile, and smile, and be a villain. | #125947
Sta: 7 | Eva: 8 | Str: 4 | Wis: 6 | AP: 5 | Acc: 6
Metamorph | Charmer
Sta: 7 | Eva: 8 | Str: 4 | Wis: 6 | AP: 5 | Acc: 6
Metamorph | Charmer
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Damien Thorne
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for:
's Grace
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): 568 words
Stats:
STATUS: Approved
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for:
's GraceDescribe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): 568 words
Reducio
From a young age, Damien had been bounced around from foster system to foster system often feeling unwanted. Early on, he had faith in the system, but quickly he learned that it would be better to remain unseen. He rarely had problems if people mostly ignored him. During his early years he tried to learn how to walk softly, starting by resting on the balls of his feet.
If he could be neither seen nor heard except when requested, perhaps he would finally have a family that stuck. Early on during his self-training, he was often caught by his family during his practicing. Some of them were weirded out by him attempting this, others still always told him 'you don't have to hide, you're part of the family'. Yeah right. If he were part of the family, they wouldn't have passed him on three months later.
He started to get an understanding of hiding places, where to move, exactly where to place his feet to not be seen or heard. But yet while he understood these things, he found it hard to put it into practice. He found it hard to understand why he was seen on occasions hiding in the shadows, all while wearing a bright colored shirt.
Over time, he learned to master this particular art, being able to find and hide in a lot of areas particularly easy. But even with his knowledge and skill, he had plenty of times where he fumbled often. He would always remember one moment in particular where he was trying to sneak by a table while his foster mother's back was turned, and yet he accidentally knocked over a glass. The sound startled her, and he got a severe scolding.
Over time, he refined the skill, and the fumbles came less and less. With this, he started to realize, that sneaking and hiding had far more uses than he thought. He could overhear conversations without people knowing he was there. He could leave the house without people seeing him and enjoy himself with a good book outside at a park, or at a local library. The possibilities for learning became endless.
But most importantly, he realized that he could find out about when his foster family wanted to pass him onto the next family. He could try to avoid them altogether, or when the social worker came, he could run out and avoid them on the streets. He could finally take back his life again. So when he was nine, and a social worker arrived to take him away to his new family, he ran out, the door flinging open in front of him, and ran off into the streets.
For the next week, he put his newfound skills to the test. When he needed food, he took some from a store when no-one was looking. During the week he had plenty of close calls with police officer's nearly seeing him, but he always ducked into the nearest alley and climbed up any nearby lowered fire escapes, or hid behind dumpsters and trash cans. This didn't work forever, as a little over a week after he ran away, he had a bad run of luck where he had no alley to duck into and was taken into a new foster family soon after. But one thing was for sure, he would put his abilities to use however he could.
If he could be neither seen nor heard except when requested, perhaps he would finally have a family that stuck. Early on during his self-training, he was often caught by his family during his practicing. Some of them were weirded out by him attempting this, others still always told him 'you don't have to hide, you're part of the family'. Yeah right. If he were part of the family, they wouldn't have passed him on three months later.
He started to get an understanding of hiding places, where to move, exactly where to place his feet to not be seen or heard. But yet while he understood these things, he found it hard to put it into practice. He found it hard to understand why he was seen on occasions hiding in the shadows, all while wearing a bright colored shirt.
Over time, he learned to master this particular art, being able to find and hide in a lot of areas particularly easy. But even with his knowledge and skill, he had plenty of times where he fumbled often. He would always remember one moment in particular where he was trying to sneak by a table while his foster mother's back was turned, and yet he accidentally knocked over a glass. The sound startled her, and he got a severe scolding.
Over time, he refined the skill, and the fumbles came less and less. With this, he started to realize, that sneaking and hiding had far more uses than he thought. He could overhear conversations without people knowing he was there. He could leave the house without people seeing him and enjoy himself with a good book outside at a park, or at a local library. The possibilities for learning became endless.
But most importantly, he realized that he could find out about when his foster family wanted to pass him onto the next family. He could try to avoid them altogether, or when the social worker came, he could run out and avoid them on the streets. He could finally take back his life again. So when he was nine, and a social worker arrived to take him away to his new family, he ran out, the door flinging open in front of him, and ran off into the streets.
For the next week, he put his newfound skills to the test. When he needed food, he took some from a store when no-one was looking. During the week he had plenty of close calls with police officer's nearly seeing him, but he always ducked into the nearest alley and climbed up any nearby lowered fire escapes, or hid behind dumpsters and trash cans. This didn't work forever, as a little over a week after he ran away, he had a bad run of luck where he had no alley to duck into and was taken into a new foster family soon after. But one thing was for sure, he would put his abilities to use however he could.
Stats:
Reducio
Stamina: 4
Evasion: 10
Strength: 5
Wisdom: 8
ArcPower: 2
Accuracy: 6
Total = 35
Evasion: 10
Strength: 5
Wisdom: 8
ArcPower: 2
Accuracy: 6
Total = 35
STATUS: Approved
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Emerly Pine
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Evasive Maneuvers Tier 2
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Word count- 443
Stats-
Stamina: 6
Evasion: 7
Strength: 2
Wisdom: 8
Arcane Power: 3
Accuracy: 9
STATUS: Approved
STA-6 | EV-7 | STR-2 | WIS-8 | AP-3 | ACC-9
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Evasive Maneuvers Tier 2
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Reducio
Emerly had possessed a certain type of poise and self-awareness, as well an a near-subconscious awareness of his surroundings, bordering on hypersensitivity, since he was a young child. He'd rarely be found tripping over things, and physical obstacles placed in his way rarely phase/throw him off his guard, even if others find themselves being knocked awry due to unawareness or a lack of presence of mind. This tendency became more and more concentrated as the years went on, the first influx being brought on by encountering a particularly bad bully in muggle school during the time he was unaware of his wizard blood. The second event took place during the time between graduating from First Year at Hogwarts, and returning to school for his Second Year.
His family was always relatively peaceful, he was the only child of an Irish witch mother and a muggle father from England who, despite their humble roots, loved each other dearly, from their early marriage and Emerly's early years in Ireland to moving to England after his grandmother's death, through revealing Emerly's mother's side's wizarding heritage, and to the young Pine's sending off to the Scottish school.
Upon returning home, Emerly began to notice his father changing, darkening, forbidding Emerly from returning to the school and blaming him, and Emerly's mother, for bringing a curse on him. The family floundered, until one day Emerly's mother simply disappeared. No letter, nothing. Emerly blew up, accusing his father of driving her away with his erratic behavior.
It was then his father told him her disappearance was his fault, Emerly's fault.
The next day, his father disappeared as well.
Emerly's wizard uncle Bogwild's family had taken him in since as they try to work with wizarding authorities to come to a conclusion as to what happened. The man encouraged him to return to the school, assuring him that Hogwarts would be quite possibly one of the safest places he could be during this whole ordeal, but Emerly is more touchy and skittery than normal, seeming as if he is always on the verge of darting away at a moment's notice at any sign of trouble. His childhood years running around in the green countryside of Ireland has given him quite a bit of nimbleness, and though he is still shy, he has also gained a quite a bit of the latter from having always tended towards hanging out in the Hogwarts grounds, near groups of other students but somewhat rarely with them, taking little runs and practicing exercises in hopes of perhaps joining the Quidditch one day- he continues this despite being too nervous nowadays to even consider it.
His family was always relatively peaceful, he was the only child of an Irish witch mother and a muggle father from England who, despite their humble roots, loved each other dearly, from their early marriage and Emerly's early years in Ireland to moving to England after his grandmother's death, through revealing Emerly's mother's side's wizarding heritage, and to the young Pine's sending off to the Scottish school.
Upon returning home, Emerly began to notice his father changing, darkening, forbidding Emerly from returning to the school and blaming him, and Emerly's mother, for bringing a curse on him. The family floundered, until one day Emerly's mother simply disappeared. No letter, nothing. Emerly blew up, accusing his father of driving her away with his erratic behavior.
It was then his father told him her disappearance was his fault, Emerly's fault.
The next day, his father disappeared as well.
Emerly's wizard uncle Bogwild's family had taken him in since as they try to work with wizarding authorities to come to a conclusion as to what happened. The man encouraged him to return to the school, assuring him that Hogwarts would be quite possibly one of the safest places he could be during this whole ordeal, but Emerly is more touchy and skittery than normal, seeming as if he is always on the verge of darting away at a moment's notice at any sign of trouble. His childhood years running around in the green countryside of Ireland has given him quite a bit of nimbleness, and though he is still shy, he has also gained a quite a bit of the latter from having always tended towards hanging out in the Hogwarts grounds, near groups of other students but somewhat rarely with them, taking little runs and practicing exercises in hopes of perhaps joining the Quidditch one day- he continues this despite being too nervous nowadays to even consider it.
Word count- 443
Stats-
Stamina: 6
Evasion: 7
Strength: 2
Wisdom: 8
Arcane Power: 3
Accuracy: 9
STATUS: Approved
STA-6 | EV-7 | STR-2 | WIS-8 | AP-3 | ACC-9
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Reducio
I woke up on a fine Friday morning. I had just turned 11. It's Friday, I thought, what could possibly go wrong. I got out of bed and dressed in my best spring attire. I wore a white button up dress shirt with a light green sweater over top of it. I slid on some light-wash jeans to match the fun color of the bright sweater and slid on some white sneakers. I tied my wavy hair into a bun, and put a light green head band in my hair.
I walked downstairs and greeted my grandmother who was cooking breakfast.
Hello dear, she said, greeting me as well. I smiled and sat down at the bar, waiting for my eggs to be done.
Did you have a good nights rest? she asked me.
Yes I did indeed, you? I replied, taking a sip of the orange juice she gave me.
Just as well thank you for asking, she said. She placed the eggs on a plate and set them in front of me. I thanked her and started eating my eggs. We had decided to go on a bike ride today, so we set out on our bikes to the trail in a forest we usually rode on.
On our trail we knew snakes were a warning, but the snakes we usually crossed were small and harmless. This time however, was time was different. This time we came across a rather large one, a python.
We came across it because I had fallen off my bike. I got back up and walked back over to my grandmother. When I approached her, I saw a large Vipera berus facing her. She sat there in fear, not having a wand or anything to defend herself. I slowly approached it, hoping I could take it's attention away from her.
Get away from her, I said, or so I thought. The snake looked at me and came towards me.
At what price? The snake asked, I looked at it with a confused expression.
Anything, I said quickly.
Leave me alone, and don't come back. The snake said. I nodded in agreement while watching the snake slither off. I quickly rushed to help my grandmother and looked back at the snake.
Did you just speak Parseltongue? my grandmother asked.
Parseltongue; what's that? I asked.
I'll tell you when we get home, she said. I nodded and we headed back to the flat. I sat down at the couch while she made us a cup of tea.
Parseltongue is the language of snakes. If you hold the ability of Parseltongue, you can speak to and understand snakes. It makes sense why you're a Slytherin. Your father must have been one too. My grandmother explained.
But why am I a Parselmouth, how did it happen? I asked.
Your mother always told me how friendly your father was to snakes. He had one himself. She always told me how close he was with it and how it seemed that he would talk to it in a weird language. It sounded an awful lot like Parseltongue in my mind at the time, she replied.I sipped my tea while thinking. Was I really a Parselmouth?
I walked downstairs and greeted my grandmother who was cooking breakfast.
Hello dear, she said, greeting me as well. I smiled and sat down at the bar, waiting for my eggs to be done.
Did you have a good nights rest? she asked me.
Yes I did indeed, you? I replied, taking a sip of the orange juice she gave me.
Just as well thank you for asking, she said. She placed the eggs on a plate and set them in front of me. I thanked her and started eating my eggs. We had decided to go on a bike ride today, so we set out on our bikes to the trail in a forest we usually rode on.
On our trail we knew snakes were a warning, but the snakes we usually crossed were small and harmless. This time however, was time was different. This time we came across a rather large one, a python.
We came across it because I had fallen off my bike. I got back up and walked back over to my grandmother. When I approached her, I saw a large Vipera berus facing her. She sat there in fear, not having a wand or anything to defend herself. I slowly approached it, hoping I could take it's attention away from her.
Get away from her, I said, or so I thought. The snake looked at me and came towards me.
At what price? The snake asked, I looked at it with a confused expression.
Anything, I said quickly.
Leave me alone, and don't come back. The snake said. I nodded in agreement while watching the snake slither off. I quickly rushed to help my grandmother and looked back at the snake.
Did you just speak Parseltongue? my grandmother asked.
Parseltongue; what's that? I asked.
I'll tell you when we get home, she said. I nodded and we headed back to the flat. I sat down at the couch while she made us a cup of tea.
Parseltongue is the language of snakes. If you hold the ability of Parseltongue, you can speak to and understand snakes. It makes sense why you're a Slytherin. Your father must have been one too. My grandmother explained.
But why am I a Parselmouth, how did it happen? I asked.
Your mother always told me how friendly your father was to snakes. He had one himself. She always told me how close he was with it and how it seemed that he would talk to it in a weird language. It sounded an awful lot like Parseltongue in my mind at the time, she replied.I sipped my tea while thinking. Was I really a Parselmouth?
Stats After the Change
-Stamina 3
-Evasion 4
-Strength 3
-Wisdom 8
-Arcane Power 7
-Accuracy 5
Words: 530
STATUS: Pending
Note: Fixed
Mod Edit 21.02.21
Two things:
- You are biking in England. There usually is not suddenly a wild phyton. Please be aware of Englands common nature.
- No, you are not a descendant of Slytherin. Nowhere it is stated that a Parsel must be a descendant of Slytherin. Do not claim a relationship since this is against our rules.
Mod Edit: 28.02.21
An adder this time. This is at least native in England. What we are looking for in applications is some kind of explanation as to why you are parselmouth. You still try to justify it by "being Slytherin". This has nothing to do with the talent. Where does this talent come from or from whom?
Last edited by Eleanore Reed on 5 Mar 2021, 06:14, edited 5 times in total.
Keep your head held high and your attitude to the sky. Trust me babe, it's the only thing that will protect you from the harms of the unknown.
Eleanore Reed
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Ency Here!
1st Year Ability
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Lovely Creature
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
ReducioWord Count: 432 WordsZoë had grown up hearing that her mother had been a beautiful woman. Having never met her mother, all Zoë had were old pictures to give her some indication of her mother’s beauty. While initially unbeknownst to Zoë, the young girl had inherited many of the finer features that had made her mother beautiful. In her early youth, this initially cute appearance allowed her to frequently escape potential trouble. An adorable pouty face or wide eyes were enough to deflect initial scoldings from her father. Her long blonde hair and blue eyes kept an enchanting quality towards any frustration her father may have felt. While this worked against her already loving father, her developing attractiveness also proved useful as she entered her school years.
With a naturally mischievous nature, the young Zoë could use her natural charm for at least basic manipulation of the foolishly interested boys and girls. She found enjoyment in keeping up her appearance and style, if being attractive could disarm the good sense of others or make people more malleable to her wishes, it seemed a useful pursuit. Her fine features, vibrant eyes, and inviting smile were clearly reminiscent of her mother but as Zoë grew she continued to refine her appearance. Like her mother, she was relatively tall and thin, nearly always carrying a warm smile across her face. With a modest background, Zoë had to get creative with the development of her early fashion sense but her natural beauty was generally able to outweigh the more...curious fashion choices she made growing up. Not only did her appearance give her a quick level of confidence, she found that it also had the tendency for others to underestimate her abilities. While confident in her own power, she didn’t quite mind the notion of potential foes erroneously thinking of her as just a pretty face.
With increasing maturity, Zoë moved away from using her appearance for manipulation. Instead, Zoë allowed the innate attraction people had for her appearance to develop into easy friendships. While still enjoying the maintenance of her fashion sense, Zoë began to enjoy the increased sociability afforded to her. Not oblivious to the occasional stares she would receive from her peers, Zoë developed a slight habit of calling out those curious wandering eyes. Either directly yelling out to them or by making a sudden funny face at the onlooker, she always enjoyed their initial embarrassment for being caught. While undoubtedly enjoying some of the perks of her natural attractiveness, Zoë quickly gained a determination to not allow such a superfluous trait to make her conceited.
2nd Year Ability
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Perfectionist
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
ReducioWord Count: 442 WordsWhile already considered a relative prodigy of Charms and spell casting, Zoë was extremely critical of her own abilities. While not to a degree that could be considered self-loathing, she instead channeled her critical mindset into drive and ambition. With a blind passion for perfect casting, she wanted to make sure that each time she uttered a spell or whipped her wand that it was done with perfection. She would spend countless hours thinking over minute details for improvement to develop better habits. Her desire for perfection kept her from growing bored with her studies as she manufactured her own challenges and goals for success.
The death of her father towards the end of her first year at the hands of a dark wizard only amplified this tendency for Zoë. Overcome with grief, Zoë found some solace in her continued pursuit of perfection. With the vague hope of one day avenging her beloved father, she only became more governed by her perfectionism. With each new spell she learned, Zoë would drill every component of the spell far beyond what was necessary. Her natural gifts only grew with her desire to not fail. Slowly her perfectionist tendencies began to spread outside of general spell casting and into all of her pursuits. In subjects like potion-making, Zoë would become frustrated when her potions were not one hundred percent correct. Like her devotion to spell casting, Zoë began devoting considerable amounts of time to her studies to try and hone out any weaknesses she might have had.
Charms, however, remained her main point of pride. Her natural gifts in the subject and early devotion to the rudimentary mechanics of spell casting allowed her to quickly master almost any spell placed in front of her. Any critiques she might have received would be hastily analyzed and corrected. Her desire for increased strength fed directly into her perfectionism but can also be attributed as one of the primary sources of growing success. With each task or responsibility the developing Zoë was given, she attacked the task with the same desire for success that she found in spell casting. While finding perfection was considerably more elusive outside of spell casting, her perfectionist nature still pushed her to devote considerable care and focus to anything she took on. As her skills grew, this desire for perfection extended to those she was close to. Wanting to help others, Zoë found considerable enjoyment in positively pushing others towards perfecting their own skills. While she continues to focus too much on minute deficiencies in her skills, Zoë has never lost the drive to continue honing her skills towards the invariably elusive perfection.
STATUS: ApprovedSTATS:
Stamina: 5
Evasion: 11
Strength: 2
Wisdom: 20
Arc. Power: 16
Accuracy: 16
Stamina: 5 / Evasion: 11 / Strength: 2 / Wisdom: 20 / ArcPower: 16 / Accuracy: 16
"Never be so politе you forget your power. Nevеr wield such power you forget to be polite."