Ability applications
Link to your encyclopedia thread: viewtopic.php?f=169&t=33158
School Year or Adult Level: Second Year
Stat Changes: +5 to Stamina from Graduation to Y2 (5 → 10)
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Evasive Maneuvers
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
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This is a sub account tied to: Oonagh Brown
School Year or Adult Level: Second Year
Stat Changes: +5 to Stamina from Graduation to Y2 (5 → 10)
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Evasive Maneuvers
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Reducio
Living up in a rural place that's thriving in the midst of nature and where it is no rarity for said nature to reclaim the lands, abandoned huts and public areas without proper maintenance, it comes to no one's surprise that a child as peculiar as Semyon would be drawn into the wilderness and choosing the forest to be his playground.
His sibling was no better or perhaps the both of them were the best of all. The place he grew up in was neither magic nor muggle, yet it was the most magical place of all - nature. The area he called home was hardly a village or a place that was populated, at the outskirts a sense of community hardly existed and one could go weeks without encountering a person that was not attached to one's own household, especially if you happened to be magic and received your mail via owls if there was any mail to begin with.
With nature as your playground the young dragonfly had to learn a lot of things. Being quick on his feet happened to be one of those things. Especially because of his love for broom sport related things. With his Firebolt he would explore the forest faster than his feet alone would be able to carry him. But in an overgrown forest with twigs poking off every branch and shrubbery and thorns trying to get a hold of him, he learned to be elusive in his flight.
Even climbing through the trees, playing a game of tag with his sibling after a night of rain would lead to slippery branches and them needing to be extra cautious and confident in their chase through the tree tops.
These were skills he would embrace and carry with him forevermore as he grew faster and more elusive and eventually would experience the role of Seeker on the Quidditch field. There were many more reasons as to why he was quick on his feet and even faster in the sky. One of which was his excessive study of insects due to his мама (mom) nurturing this hobby as she herself happened to be an entomologist and was quite excited in her kids showing similar niche interests.
The study of insects brought many perks. They had about the deadliest hunters and most elusive species amongst themselves that rivaled all other species. They were quite impressive beings that Semyon cherished almost as much as his мама (mom) did.
Word Count: 412
His sibling was no better or perhaps the both of them were the best of all. The place he grew up in was neither magic nor muggle, yet it was the most magical place of all - nature. The area he called home was hardly a village or a place that was populated, at the outskirts a sense of community hardly existed and one could go weeks without encountering a person that was not attached to one's own household, especially if you happened to be magic and received your mail via owls if there was any mail to begin with.
With nature as your playground the young dragonfly had to learn a lot of things. Being quick on his feet happened to be one of those things. Especially because of his love for broom sport related things. With his Firebolt he would explore the forest faster than his feet alone would be able to carry him. But in an overgrown forest with twigs poking off every branch and shrubbery and thorns trying to get a hold of him, he learned to be elusive in his flight.
Even climbing through the trees, playing a game of tag with his sibling after a night of rain would lead to slippery branches and them needing to be extra cautious and confident in their chase through the tree tops.
These were skills he would embrace and carry with him forevermore as he grew faster and more elusive and eventually would experience the role of Seeker on the Quidditch field. There were many more reasons as to why he was quick on his feet and even faster in the sky. One of which was his excessive study of insects due to his мама (mom) nurturing this hobby as she herself happened to be an entomologist and was quite excited in her kids showing similar niche interests.
The study of insects brought many perks. They had about the deadliest hunters and most elusive species amongst themselves that rivaled all other species. They were quite impressive beings that Semyon cherished almost as much as his мама (mom) did.
Word Count: 412
Approved
This is a sub account tied to: Oonagh Brown
Ability applications
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Theo's Trunk
School Year or Adult Level: Seventh Year
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Evasive Maneuvers II
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Coding:
Approved
School Year or Adult Level: Seventh Year
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Evasive Maneuvers II
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Reducio
Theodore had always been an athletic kid and an attentive one too. Before Ilvermorny, it was his playing baseball at school, but mainly his younger brothers who saw to it. Whether it was them tossing peas across the dinner table whenever their mother wasn't looking, or the the pine cone battles when they went camping in summer, it all very much trained Theo to sense when things were flying in his direction.
While Theo was under the belief that he was good at evading, his first broom race taught him otherwise. He didn't evade a single thing, watching ones surroundings and opponents was hell of a lot harder when one sat on a fast broom, several meters above the ground.
Quickly he quit racing, it was clear that he had a lot of training to do first, unless he wanted to die the next race (honestly, who invented these dangerous sports and offered them to kids?).
He spent a few months training, but didn't return to racing. Instead he joined his school's Quidditch team as a beater, which he was particularly excited about because it reminded him of baseball.
... Except, again, on a broom, several meters in the air. And the balls were made of metal and tried to kill him.
This time he did not quit. Instead Theo trained until he felt safe in the air and even managed to save up for an amazing broom (seriously, he could never tell his parents how much he spent on that broom). Then his team started winning Quidditch matches and Theo... well, Theo apparently became so good at the game that people targeted him first.
So what was the solution? Two options: a) he could just play terrible again and... not die? b) become even better and most definitely get a few more bludgers aimed at his head.
... So Theo trained! Sixth year seemed like a great time to train more intensely, his OWLs were done and NEWTs were still over a year away, so Theo spent a lot more time on the Quidditch Training Pitch than the library.
This year was his last chance to win a Quiddich Game against the other schools, his last summer camp. So far he was also not sure, what he wanted to do after school- It was very possible that Quidditch would be in Theo's future, so...
... So Theo had more than enough excuses to spend a big deal of his time in the air, releasing murderous metal balls, aimed at himself!
While Theo was under the belief that he was good at evading, his first broom race taught him otherwise. He didn't evade a single thing, watching ones surroundings and opponents was hell of a lot harder when one sat on a fast broom, several meters above the ground.
Quickly he quit racing, it was clear that he had a lot of training to do first, unless he wanted to die the next race (honestly, who invented these dangerous sports and offered them to kids?).
He spent a few months training, but didn't return to racing. Instead he joined his school's Quidditch team as a beater, which he was particularly excited about because it reminded him of baseball.
... Except, again, on a broom, several meters in the air. And the balls were made of metal and tried to kill him.
This time he did not quit. Instead Theo trained until he felt safe in the air and even managed to save up for an amazing broom (seriously, he could never tell his parents how much he spent on that broom). Then his team started winning Quidditch matches and Theo... well, Theo apparently became so good at the game that people targeted him first.
So what was the solution? Two options: a) he could just play terrible again and... not die? b) become even better and most definitely get a few more bludgers aimed at his head.
... So Theo trained! Sixth year seemed like a great time to train more intensely, his OWLs were done and NEWTs were still over a year away, so Theo spent a lot more time on the Quidditch Training Pitch than the library.
This year was his last chance to win a Quiddich Game against the other schools, his last summer camp. So far he was also not sure, what he wanted to do after school- It was very possible that Quidditch would be in Theo's future, so...
... So Theo had more than enough excuses to spend a big deal of his time in the air, releasing murderous metal balls, aimed at himself!
Coding:
Reducio
Code: Select all
[b][quote][center][img]/images/upload/w9lsja.webp[/img][/center]
[quote][center]Stamina: 10
Evasion: 17
Strength: 10
Wisdom: 8
Arcane Power: 9
Accuracy: 20
[revelio]Total: 74 Stat Points (8 from Duel Wins, 1 from Quidditch Win)
([url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=16330&start=40#p274734]1[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=1744&start=130#p294539]2[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=18463&start=30#p300076]3[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=19523&start=10#p3485703]4[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=421845#p421845]5[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=23482&p=576988#p576988]6[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=679635#p679635]7[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=764351#p764351]8[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=30945&p=941445#p941445]9[/url])[/revelio][/center][/quote][/b]
[quote][center][b]Quidditch Player - Beater[/b][/center][/quote]
[center][img]/images/upload/9d29p9.webp[/img][/center][quote][center][b]Ability 1: The Muggle Condition[/b][/center] [reducio][b]Why does it fit my character?[/b]
Theo had no idea of magic before he was told of it and it had opened up a new world to him. He does not longer waste time on muggle abilities, which he can easily replace with magic, but he had to for eleven years.
The young boy grew up in the muggle world, visited a muggle kinder garden and a muggle primary school. When he had still visited school, his only target had been to get to the best possible secondary school. And then magic got in between. But since he had never expected it, he acquired the skills that one just learns when one is young and spends a lot time with other boys. Not to mention simply loves to provoke others. And just can't resist to put a toe across the boarder, as soon as the consequences become acceptable.
Theo knows how to throw punches. He knows how to physically fight. He even learned how to do it secretly, after it got him and his parents in front of the principal a few times.
Although he doesn't necessarily need those skills anymore, now that he learns many very interesting spells, he has noticed, that this seems to be exactly what all those purebloods are thinking. They didn't think it would be necessary to acquire certain skills that might be more important in the muggle world. Theo simply loves to get them by surprise through easy muggle tricks.
Just before he went to Ilvermorny, he even took his time to learn simple muggle card trick to brag. It works perfectly and he is extremely proud of it.
Through simple muggle games, Theo has made himself a name at Ilvermorny, used his bloodline for his own advantage.
Sometimes he questions it. Sometimes he thinks that something might be wrong with him, as there are only very few muggleborns at Ilvermorny, secretly of course, Theodore Duncain has no insecurities.
But in the end he is a creative and optimistic boy. He can see opportunities in almost every bad situation. Theo knows a lot about muggle technology as well and he just likes to show off the aditional knowledge he has. Of course he made sure to inform himself about the magical world before he started to show his knowledge off, it would have been embarrassing if someone could have shut him off with one seemingly simple question about the wizarding world. No, Theodore Duncain, the muggleborn would not stop trying until his circumstances helped him go up in the 'hierarchy' of students.[/reducio][/quote]
[quote][center][b]Ability 2: Calming Presence[/b][/center][reducio][b]Why does it fit my character?[/b]
Theodore grew up, always carrying the responsibility one automatically carries being the oldest kid amongst a bunch of younger siblings. It was him, who was responsible for looking after the three others on their way to school, him, who made it his task to be there for his little sister, the only girl, as much as the two other boys, as hard as it was for a while. He always valued the bond he had with his siblings, and it was undeniable him, who convinced the three that they were invincible as long as they stuck together.
That dream image didn't quite work like he hoped it would. Theo's siblings would stick with him- but separately. Amongst themselves the twins and Anabelle were almost indifferent about one another. It was Theo then, who tried to be the counterpart for Anabelle, that the twins were for one another, and at the same time to be the cool older brother for the twins.
That on the other hand did work. Where other siblings might have tried to avoid there siblings in public, even pretended not to have one, out of puberty embarrassment, Theo was a cool older brother for them, who they went to when they had issues in school, with other children or were scared of something.
As the oldest, it was mostly him, who his parents asked for help or shared their worries with. Even after entering puberty, he was still the least troublesome of the siblings and took a great deal of stress off his parents' backs. The boy was pretty much carrying the whole family on his back, and while it might have stressed out other children, Theo was happy to make his family happy, or at least make things easier for them. While on the outside it looked like they were simply a family that could work perfectly well together, the family knew that it was Theo, who was keeping it together. It was visible when he was in school longer than his siblings were. When he came home, he would often walk in to his mother yelling at the twins, but it would most of the times stop immediately. At home it always seemed like Theo was radiating calmness. It was a place he knew, he felt safe at, a place where he always had things under control.
Things changed after he went to Ilvermorny. He exchanges owls with Ana, but although her vague responses never include any negative things, he is sure, that there is a lot of chaos at home. After he got used to the school, he went back to his rather calm self. At least when he is not provoked. If one doesn't know him, he can seem a little intimidating, as he likes to tease and joke around with people, but when it is serious, danger or simply the need to talk, he would not let anyone down. In one on one conversations, one would feel that calming presence particularly strong.
One thing, that his sister Anabelle said before he went to go to Ilvermorny, made him think for a long while.
[i]"Theo, you are the anchor of ship Duncain. We'll be drifting away for a while, without a doubt. But we'll get back on course. If there is no anchor, we have a steering wheel. If it gets serious, we can all navigate this ship."[/i][/reducio][/quote]
[quote][center][b]Ability 3: Blindvision[/b][/center][reducio][b]Why does it fit my character?[/b]
Sometimes Theo himself cannot quite believe how sharp his own senses are, especially in the darkness. He is a person who enjoys colours, naturally he is more wary in the dark. Perhaps it has something to do with his family. The young boy is muggleborn and when he got his invitation to Ilvermorny, his dad sat at his bed and had a long talk with him. He had told Theodore that he always knew that his eldest son was different, that he always had a feeling that eventually something like this would happen. But in the first place he had warned Theo. Although Virgil Duncain had no knowledge of what would await Theo in the magical world, he had told him to be careful, to watch his back. For the muggle man, magic was a word that belonged into fairytales and stories, not into the real world- His Theodore was going to a place neither of them could imagine, a place that was separate from the world he knew. Maybe his father's words had made him be more careful.
Maybe it simply came with being an older brother. Steve and Elias are Theo's two younger twin brothers, and while he loves them, they have always given him a reason to watch his own back as well as theirs. It was quite possible that the two boys got the joy from playing little pranks from their older brother, Theodore learned very soon that it was a bad idea not to watch whatever he touched, ate or put on. Once they had collected some beetles and put them into his bed. Theo had hesitated to go to bed on that evening, all his senses telling him not to and so he found the insects und his blanket.
After some years he had developed something like a sensor for dangers in the dark. Sometimes, although he probably only imagined it, he just almost smelled it, like a bad sent in the air. The hairs on his arms prickling for seemingly no reason.
Theodore always got along with his younger Sister Anabelle very well, the two of them could as well be the same age, they would hardly be any closer. While the young boy enjoys every minute of his time in Ilvermorny, he promises his sister and himself every year to come back to her. That his father was right and things really tended to become dangerous in a way that... simply wasn't from this world was something he had especially noticed in Hogwarts. He didn't get into dangerous situation himself so far, but he had heard stories of murderous dolls, things he would prefer to stay in horror movies and not come to life. All that added to the slight paranoia he developed in the dark. Who was to say that the shadows wouldn't come to life?
It is not like the young Thunderbird could really see in the dark, while he was magical, he was certainly not Magic Mike. But since he had set foot into the magical world, his senses were sharp like they had never been before, he simply had a feeling. He didn't always need his eyes to know what was happening in front of him.
[/reducio][/quote]
[quote][center][b]Ability 4: Savior[/b][/center][reducio][b]Why does it fit my character?[/b]
If one thinks of Theodore Duncain, one could probably think of quite a few things. Starting with his seemingly always great mood, his love for adventures, his tolerance and patience, but not to forget, his desire to make sure that the people he cares about are fine. Being the oldest of four children, he had been taught to take care of them at a very young age already. It wasn't like Charlize and Virgil Duncain weren't the most loving parents imaginable, but with the little money the family had, both parents were working hard.
And while the Duncain parents were working to get six hungry mouths fed, it was often up to Theo to take care of the three youngest, make sure that they did their homework and keep them entertained after school so their parents could work in peace.
With his invitation to Ilvermorny, everything had changed. After the first mistrust in something so surreal, Theo's parents were actually really excited for their eldest son to take the chance he had been given and also successfully persuaded him to go after promising him repeatedly that they would be fine as well as his siblings.
So Theo left and naturally found some friends at Ilvermorny soon. Having taken care of his younger siblings all his life, there was suddenly a gap to fill and just as naturally his new friend from Ilvermorny began to fill that gap. Theo became the kind of friend that would always try and cheer people up, but also protect them in more serious situations.
Perhaps that made it all the more ironic that he joined first one dangerous sport in which trees were literally out to kill the players and next one that involved metal balls that would attempt to knock kids off their brooms. His task was clear, keep those metal balls in check, but that did not at all mean that Theo didn't pick a different task for himself. While he liked Quidditch, attempting to injure people wasn't really his thing, so he tried very much to just protect his team and hit bludgers somewhere, where no one was who could get hurt.
And if there was the occasional player falling of their broom, well... Theo left his post without thinking about it twice. If the young Thunderbird could help it, none of his classmates would ever fall to hit the ground, in fact he had become pretty good at spotting and catching them before they hit the ground- yes, unfortunately that did include one or the other opponent. [/reducio][/quote]
[quote][center][b]Ability 5: Broken Broomshaft[/b][/center][reducio][b]Why does it fit my character?[/b]
Theo Duncain had never been a weak child, always wrestling and getting into all kinds of shenanigans with his younger brothers. When he was younger, his dad liked to use the empty field near their home to play sports with his children as well (football, baseball, batminton, anything really). With this influence, Theo had always been rather athletic and strong and was often asked to help with more difficult jobs around the house, until he eventually got to join the junior baseball team at his elementary school.
Of course, with the children on the team all being around 10-11, there wasn't much going on in terms of competition, but Theo learned a lot about techniques, how to correctly use a bat, how to effectively hit a ball and all kinds of useful lessons.
These lessons are a blessing to him today.
Theo has quite the history when it comes to sports, broom sports in particular. First he had joined the broom racing team and stayed on until his third year, when he finally quit. While the young man did enjoy a good challenge, he always had the feeling to be canon fodder as a young racer. The whole concept of the sport was rather merciless to younger students and Theo went to look for a different challenge. Preferable one that wouldn't land him in the hospital wing after every game.
So he had joined his school's Quidditch Team as a second string beater. A position he particularly enjoyed as he felt like he could bring some knowledge from his time in muggle school into it and maybe actually make a difference. Yes, during his first game he had not been on the winning side, but if he only looked at his own performance, he was rather content. It was certainly something he could work with!
And work with it he did. When other students could be found practicing spells, Theo was training his body, creating a visible difference over the duration of his fourth year. Regularly he could be found in some isolated area, doing push ups, sit ups or training hitting techniques with his beater's bat.
And one day, during training for which he usually used some normal balls, he hit one with full force, but didn't aim properly. The ball went a different way than intended and ended up hitting a chair next to a tree, smashing the whole thing against the trunk. With wide eyes Theo had run over to fix the chair magically, but the force of his hit had effectively turned the chair into a pile of broken boards.[/reducio][/quote]
[quote][center][b]Ability 6: Evasive Maneuvers[/b][/center][reducio][b]Why does it fit my character?[/b]
Theodore wasn't new to danger, not a stranger to the threats magic could pose. Especially at Hogwarts the young man had been taught to keep his guard up, expect events to go up in flame and expect anything suspicious to be actually dangerous.
And first and foremost the sport he played at his school was a dangerous thing all on its own. Theodore was a beater, so he regularly soared through the air and beat big metal balls at other players- and the better he got he became a target more often himself. Theo had become a damn good beater over the years. First he had tried out broom racing, which had been fun but seemed like a beg to get injured in countless gruesome ways, he found.
Quidditch wasn't the same, not really. It relied fully on all players' skills, so it allowed for some kind of strategy, whereas he found that racing was more of a... close your eyes and get through the course without losing any limbs, life or mind kind of situation. He hadn't even been sure what danger to focus on in racing.
With Quidditch it was different. Last summer he had been tackled off his broom after taking out a bunch of opponents, his focus lying elsewhere and not really expecting such a desperate foul, but this kind of thing was predictable. So Theo had started to focus his training less on his own aim, like he had for years, but instead he spent more time on dodging attacks.
Every time he trained, he would at some point ask his teammates to throw balls at him that he had to dodge and eventually, after a lot of training and a lot of small bruises- chasers really had strong throwing arms- he became better and better at it. There were small things he hadn't noticed so much before. A whistle of wind warning him of something flying his way, a gust of air, barely noticeable.
The Quidditch training had proven way more effective than whatever his little brothers were trying past summer. He had asked them for assistance too- and regretted it dearly, the twins enjoyed throwing things at him with permission at any time of the day way too much- but he had been too distracted then. What happened at the camp with Dee kept his mind occupied for a while, too much for him to watch out whenever the twins decided to throw peas across the dinner table.[/reducio][/quote]
[quote][center][b]Ability 7: Evasive Maneuvers II[/b][/center][reducio][b]Why does it fit my character?[/b]
Theodore had always been an athletic kid and an attentive one too. Before Ilvermorny, it was his playing baseball at school, but mainly his younger brothers who saw to it. Whether it was them tossing peas across the dinner table whenever their mother wasn't looking, or the the pine cone battles when they went camping in summer, it all very much trained Theo to sense when things were flying in his direction.
While Theo was under the belief that he was good at evading, his first broom race taught him otherwise. He didn't evade a single thing, watching ones surroundings and opponents was hell of a lot harder when one sat on a fast broom, several meters above the ground.
Quickly he quit racing, it was clear that he had a lot of training to do first, unless he wanted to die the next race (honestly, who invented these dangerous sports and offered them to kids?).
He spent a few months training, but didn't return to racing. Instead he joined his school's Quidditch team as a beater, which he was particularly excited about because it reminded him of baseball.
... Except, again, on a broom, several meters in the air. And the balls were made of metal and tried to kill him.
This time he did not quit. Instead Theo trained until he felt safe in the air and even managed to save up for an amazing broom (seriously, he could never tell his parents how much he spent on that broom). Then his team started winning Quidditch matches and Theo... well, Theo apparently became so good at the game that people targeted him first.
So what was the solution? Two options: a) he could just play terrible again and... not die? b) become even better and most definitely get a few more bludgers aimed at his head.
... So Theo trained! Sixth year seemed like a great time to train more intensely, his OWLs were done and NEWTs were still over a year away, so Theo spent a lot more time on the Quidditch Training Pitch than the library.
This year was his last chance to win a Quiddich Game against the other schools, his last summer camp. So far he was also not sure, what he wanted to do after school- It was very possible that Quidditch would be in Theo's future, so...
... So Theo had more than enough excuses to spend a big deal of his time in the air, releasing murderous metal balls, aimed at himself![/reducio][/quote][/quote]Approved
Ability applications
Link to your encyclopedia thread: X
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Wandmaker
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
wc: 543
Approved
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Wandmaker
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Reducio
Ondine's wand was passed down to her in the summer of 2025 after her grandfather, Berenger, passed on. The wand has belonged to many of her families Seers before the girl. Ondine's wand is an extension of the great witches and wizards before her, linking her to her ancestors in ways nothing else can.
Willow
Willow is tied to Ondine firstly through her swamp heritage. Willow trees are a common site in the Leroux family cemetery, often proving to be wonderful for sitting and reflecting. Willow is a wood that is drawn to witches and wizards that are insecure, and Ondine definitely fits that description. Her anxiety, paired with her budding intuitive abilities, cause her to live life on shaky footing. She is often unsure of situations, and people. Usually, when a new seer emerges in the family, insecurity is the first and primary emotion felt. Will I be enough? Is it really up to me? What if my visions are ... wrong? all questions each child must answer for themselves before growing to their full potential, including Ondine.
It is ironic that the Leroux Family wand is predisposed to healing, considering their profession. Being so close to death and mourning will plant a seed of empathy, if not apathy in a person. Helping, serving, and healing are second nature to the family, even if they come off as cold, and a bit unfeeling.
Ondine, under her rough, thorny exterior, just wants everyone she loves to be okay, and free of suffering. She will do whatever is in her abilities to aid those in true need, making this wand a wonderful asset.
White River Monster Spine
Once again tied to Ondine through her American Southern heritage, and her roots in the swamp. This wand core is attracted to wealthy, pureblood, prestigious families just like Ondines. Ondine is very passionate in her casting, only amplified by the forceful nature of white river monster spine. Ondine is unusual to say the least, reflecting the visual abnormalities caused by this wand core.
Length
28.39 cm. Not too terribly short or long. Ondine is the kind of person to fly under the radar, and is often underestimated, especially by herself. While she sees herself as an outcast, she also suffers from feeling average, reflected in her wand length. The girl is neutral tempered, generally presenting a refined, presentable persona. This doesn't exclude her from moments of intensity, however. Overall Ondines temperament and personality are fairly balanced, leaning slightly more towards rigidity and refinement than extravagance and dramatics.
Flexibility
Unbending. Regardless of insecurities, expectations, and doubts, Ondine tends to be pretty set in her ways. When it comes to the things that truly matter, she knows what she wants, and what is important to her. Stubborn and sometimes downright defiant, when the girl has made up her mind, it is not likely to change. The girl is hard to persuade or manipulate- despite her seemingly feeble or passive persona. When it comes right down to it, it is hard to dissuade the girl once her mind has truly been made up. Daily insecurities and self doubts most definitely weigh on her, but at her core Ondine knows when to trust herself before all else, and does not let the opinions or beliefs of others change that.
Willow
Willow is tied to Ondine firstly through her swamp heritage. Willow trees are a common site in the Leroux family cemetery, often proving to be wonderful for sitting and reflecting. Willow is a wood that is drawn to witches and wizards that are insecure, and Ondine definitely fits that description. Her anxiety, paired with her budding intuitive abilities, cause her to live life on shaky footing. She is often unsure of situations, and people. Usually, when a new seer emerges in the family, insecurity is the first and primary emotion felt. Will I be enough? Is it really up to me? What if my visions are ... wrong? all questions each child must answer for themselves before growing to their full potential, including Ondine.
It is ironic that the Leroux Family wand is predisposed to healing, considering their profession. Being so close to death and mourning will plant a seed of empathy, if not apathy in a person. Helping, serving, and healing are second nature to the family, even if they come off as cold, and a bit unfeeling.
Ondine, under her rough, thorny exterior, just wants everyone she loves to be okay, and free of suffering. She will do whatever is in her abilities to aid those in true need, making this wand a wonderful asset.
White River Monster Spine
Once again tied to Ondine through her American Southern heritage, and her roots in the swamp. This wand core is attracted to wealthy, pureblood, prestigious families just like Ondines. Ondine is very passionate in her casting, only amplified by the forceful nature of white river monster spine. Ondine is unusual to say the least, reflecting the visual abnormalities caused by this wand core.
Length
28.39 cm. Not too terribly short or long. Ondine is the kind of person to fly under the radar, and is often underestimated, especially by herself. While she sees herself as an outcast, she also suffers from feeling average, reflected in her wand length. The girl is neutral tempered, generally presenting a refined, presentable persona. This doesn't exclude her from moments of intensity, however. Overall Ondines temperament and personality are fairly balanced, leaning slightly more towards rigidity and refinement than extravagance and dramatics.
Flexibility
Unbending. Regardless of insecurities, expectations, and doubts, Ondine tends to be pretty set in her ways. When it comes to the things that truly matter, she knows what she wants, and what is important to her. Stubborn and sometimes downright defiant, when the girl has made up her mind, it is not likely to change. The girl is hard to persuade or manipulate- despite her seemingly feeble or passive persona. When it comes right down to it, it is hard to dissuade the girl once her mind has truly been made up. Daily insecurities and self doubts most definitely weigh on her, but at her core Ondine knows when to trust herself before all else, and does not let the opinions or beliefs of others change that.
wc: 543
Approved
Ability applications
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Boop
School Year or Adult Level: 2nd
Stat Changes: Graduation = +2 to evasion, +3 to accuracy
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Fearless
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): 476/400
For the sake of it being easier on staff when trunk is updated, if it is updated once this is accepted, here is the updated code with everything added from this update (and with taking potions and spells away) :
Approved - Esmeralda, July 23
PC: Eric Kim
School Year or Adult Level: 2nd
Stat Changes: Graduation = +2 to evasion, +3 to accuracy
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Fearless
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): 476/400
Reducio
There was a thin line between brave and reckless. Or maybe, the better word would be that Athisak was a bit too adventurous for his own good half the time. Climbing trees to the point he was testing how gravity worked, playing with garden snakes as if they were harmless puppies (if we go past the affinity towards snakes he had regardless). There was a mixture of fearlessness and recklessness that had always been present with him. In short, give him somewhat of a challenge that a few people, if not most, would be at least reluctant or scared to do, and watch him have no issues with it (at least in terms of how he approaches a situation).
One such moment, though ironically considered boring compared to whatever shenanigans he was willing or able to get in, was while he was back home for the summer holiday, helping his mum around in the apothecary. One would assume that being around mostly plants would not be the most dangerous of situations. Yeah, well, mix that with a curious kid like Ace and a friend he brought over, and you may just have the worst or best situation possible...depending on which way you want to think about it. Athisak didn't know much about mixing plants, making potions, etc. Sure, he learned quite a bit while at school, but it was far from ideal when he was trying to add different things in a cauldron now. Was he even allowed to do that outside of school? Well, he was not...reallyyyy using magic outside of school, he was just making soup. Possibly horrid soup.
This was a terrible, horrible, incredibly foolish idea, with the only redemption being that thankfully he couldn't have messed up THAT much as to prove actually dangerous. That being said, his friend, a colleague from Tenusa, coming over for a visit, didn't seem to share the enthusiasm Athisak had, on the contrary, moving a bit away...ok maybe more than a bit.
"It's fine...what's the worst that can happen?" (A lot...a lot could happen if this were indeed not just something akin to soup, but then again, this was a kid doing this). Bad decisions made for good stories, so a bit more of this, a bit more of that, almost having it boil over the goddamn cauldron. Maybe it was not a good idea to let him around the setup at home, and normally, he was not really allowed to do this; he only managed to get the chance now that his mum was away on an errand to get some more herbs.
That event ended thankfully safely, with only his friend being slightly scared while Ace was playing cook/potion master. Which in thinking back may just encourage him to keep this up and get bolder later on. Only one way to tell...with time.
One such moment, though ironically considered boring compared to whatever shenanigans he was willing or able to get in, was while he was back home for the summer holiday, helping his mum around in the apothecary. One would assume that being around mostly plants would not be the most dangerous of situations. Yeah, well, mix that with a curious kid like Ace and a friend he brought over, and you may just have the worst or best situation possible...depending on which way you want to think about it. Athisak didn't know much about mixing plants, making potions, etc. Sure, he learned quite a bit while at school, but it was far from ideal when he was trying to add different things in a cauldron now. Was he even allowed to do that outside of school? Well, he was not...reallyyyy using magic outside of school, he was just making soup. Possibly horrid soup.
This was a terrible, horrible, incredibly foolish idea, with the only redemption being that thankfully he couldn't have messed up THAT much as to prove actually dangerous. That being said, his friend, a colleague from Tenusa, coming over for a visit, didn't seem to share the enthusiasm Athisak had, on the contrary, moving a bit away...ok maybe more than a bit.
"It's fine...what's the worst that can happen?" (A lot...a lot could happen if this were indeed not just something akin to soup, but then again, this was a kid doing this). Bad decisions made for good stories, so a bit more of this, a bit more of that, almost having it boil over the goddamn cauldron. Maybe it was not a good idea to let him around the setup at home, and normally, he was not really allowed to do this; he only managed to get the chance now that his mum was away on an errand to get some more herbs.
That event ended thankfully safely, with only his friend being slightly scared while Ace was playing cook/potion master. Which in thinking back may just encourage him to keep this up and get bolder later on. Only one way to tell...with time.
For the sake of it being easier on staff when trunk is updated, if it is updated once this is accepted, here is the updated code with everything added from this update (and with taking potions and spells away) :
Reducio
Code: Select all
[center][img]/images/upload/d4l2bm.webp[/img][/center][center][i][size=125][ trunk ]
[/i][/size][/center][center][i][ stats & abilities ][/i][/center]
[quote][center][size=100][i][b][ sta ] 7 [ eva ] 9 [ str ] 1 [ wis ] 6 [ arc ] 3 [ acc ] 9[/b] [/i][/size][/center]
[center]
[i][size=125][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=31215#p1274687]Parselmouth[/url][b].[/b] [/size] [size=125][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=1319059#p1319059]Fearless[/url][b].[/b] [/size] [size=125]year three[b].[/b] [/size] [size=125]year four[b].[/b] [/size]
[size=125]year five[b].[/b] [/size] [size=125]year six[b].[/b] [/size] [size=125]year seven[b].[/b] [/size]
[/center]
[center][size=100][ sports wins ][b][/b] [/size][/center][/quote]
[right]~ prat's code[/right]Approved - Esmeralda, July 23
PC: Eric Kim
Ability applications
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Ency
School Year or Adult Level: 3rd
Stat Changes: N/A
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Prodigal Charms Learner
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): 423/400
Vladislav would spend summer reading, but unfortunately for him, it was not a pleasant type of book, it was a book that he deemed unacceptable and tortuous. A textbook! Who in their right mind would make someone read an educational book? His dad. That is who.
That boring, decrepit dad of his seem to not understand what the value of childhood was! Was his dad ever even a child? What would that old rotten man know? He was already attending a military-style school and god, while it could be worse, he heard that Hogwarts was not as strict. He got grounded for coming home and making a mess, even for yelling at his own father and for saying some words that he probably should not have said.
He had all of the comic books decorating his shelf swept into a trash bag and taken out of his room, to be locked up in his father’s closet. All of his toys, taken away. Really, the only “entertainment” he had asides from keeping his wand was his textbooks for the new school year.
Boring! He begrudgingly opened up the textbook for the Charms class and stared at it sadly admitting defeat. He would learn the spells and ensure he got it down tact so his own teachers at the school would care or like him so he would never have to spend another summer drowning in this painful moment like he was right now.
He looked at the spells listed, he could test out the one charms spell he knew for sure.
He figured everyone would know this spell or have it down tact, but it was worth putting to practice. The Slowing Charm..
He didn’t bother to look at the textbook for this. He was in Group 5 at Koldovstoretz, he needed to be very knowledgeable with his spells and to be able to cast them instantly without a doubt or hesitation. Vladislav spoke, his voice not wavering. “Arresto Momentum.” He enunciated quickly and clearly, moving his wand as if he were tracing a capitalized letter ‘M’ in the English Alphabet.
Ok, if that was truly correct, then perfect. However, he was unsure. He ripped a page out of his textbook, one of the table of content pages, and threw it into the air, watching it come down steadily. He quickly whipped his wand out, made the capitalized ‘M’ and spoke, “Arresto Momentum.” The sheet of paper floated slower than it was, as a result. He knew it was a proper cast.
What next? Perhaps he could keep drilling himself with the other spells he learned from Charms. What did he have to do with his summer after all..
Note: Please add this to my trunk code under abilities.
Approved - Esmeralda, July 24
In my mind and in my car, we can't rewind, we've gone too far. (Video Killed The Radio Star - The Buggles)
Clark
School Year or Adult Level: 3rd
Stat Changes: N/A
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Prodigal Charms Learner
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): 423/400
Vladislav would spend summer reading, but unfortunately for him, it was not a pleasant type of book, it was a book that he deemed unacceptable and tortuous. A textbook! Who in their right mind would make someone read an educational book? His dad. That is who.
That boring, decrepit dad of his seem to not understand what the value of childhood was! Was his dad ever even a child? What would that old rotten man know? He was already attending a military-style school and god, while it could be worse, he heard that Hogwarts was not as strict. He got grounded for coming home and making a mess, even for yelling at his own father and for saying some words that he probably should not have said.
He had all of the comic books decorating his shelf swept into a trash bag and taken out of his room, to be locked up in his father’s closet. All of his toys, taken away. Really, the only “entertainment” he had asides from keeping his wand was his textbooks for the new school year.
Boring! He begrudgingly opened up the textbook for the Charms class and stared at it sadly admitting defeat. He would learn the spells and ensure he got it down tact so his own teachers at the school would care or like him so he would never have to spend another summer drowning in this painful moment like he was right now.
He looked at the spells listed, he could test out the one charms spell he knew for sure.
He figured everyone would know this spell or have it down tact, but it was worth putting to practice. The Slowing Charm..
He didn’t bother to look at the textbook for this. He was in Group 5 at Koldovstoretz, he needed to be very knowledgeable with his spells and to be able to cast them instantly without a doubt or hesitation. Vladislav spoke, his voice not wavering. “Arresto Momentum.” He enunciated quickly and clearly, moving his wand as if he were tracing a capitalized letter ‘M’ in the English Alphabet.
Ok, if that was truly correct, then perfect. However, he was unsure. He ripped a page out of his textbook, one of the table of content pages, and threw it into the air, watching it come down steadily. He quickly whipped his wand out, made the capitalized ‘M’ and spoke, “Arresto Momentum.” The sheet of paper floated slower than it was, as a result. He knew it was a proper cast.
What next? Perhaps he could keep drilling himself with the other spells he learned from Charms. What did he have to do with his summer after all..
Note: Please add this to my trunk code under abilities.
Code: Select all
[quote]PRODIGAL CHARMS LEARNER[reducio]Vladislav would spend summer reading, but unfortunately for him, it was not a pleasant type of book, it was a book that he deemed unacceptable and tortuous. A textbook! Who in their right mind would make someone read an educational book? His dad. That is who.
That boring, decrepit dad of his seem to not understand what the value of childhood was! Was his dad ever even a child? What would that old rotten man know? He was already attending a military-style school and god, while it could be worse, he heard that Hogwarts was not as strict. He got grounded for coming home and making a mess, even for yelling at his own father and for saying some words that he probably should not have said.
He had all of the comic books decorating his shelf swept into a trash bag and taken out of his room, to be locked up in his father’s closet. All of his toys, taken away. Really, the only “entertainment” he had asides from keeping his wand was his textbooks for the new school year.
Boring! He begrudgingly opened up the textbook for the Charms class and stared at it sadly admitting defeat. He would learn the spells and ensure he got it down tact so his own teachers at the school would care or like him so he would never have to spend another summer drowning in this painful moment like he was right now.
He looked at the spells listed, he could test out the one charms spell he knew for sure.
He figured everyone would know this spell or have it down tact, but it was worth putting to practice. The Slowing Charm..
He didn’t bother to look at the textbook for this. He was in Group 5 at Koldovstoretz, he needed to be very knowledgeable with his spells and to be able to cast them instantly without a doubt or hesitation. Vladislav spoke, his voice not wavering. “Arresto Momentum.” He enunciated quickly and clearly, moving his wand as if he were tracing a capitalized letter ‘M’ in the English Alphabet.
Ok, if that was truly correct, then perfect. However, he was unsure. He ripped a page out of his textbook, one of the table of content pages, and threw it into the air, watching it come down steadily. He quickly whipped his wand out, made the capitalized ‘M’ and spoke, “Arresto Momentum.” The sheet of paper floated slower than it was, as a result. He knew it was a proper cast.
What next? Perhaps he could keep drilling himself with the other spells he learned from Charms. What did he have to do with his summer after all.. [/reducio][/quote]In my mind and in my car, we can't rewind, we've gone too far. (Video Killed The Radio Star - The Buggles)
Clark
Ability applications
Link to your encyclopedia thread: viewtopic.php?f=169&t=23208#p489896
School Year or Adult Level: 4
Stat Changes: You can find everything about stat points here. OLD: sta 10 • eva 13 • str 0 • wis 9 • arc 6 • acc 10 |||| NEW: sta 10 • eva 13 • str 0 • wis 9 • arc 11 • acc 10
Change: +5 Arc (6->11)
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Prodigal Flying
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
He had an interest in being one of the best flyers at Koldovstoretz, but he was not on a broom racing or quidditch team. Instead, he would be the one just hopping onto a broom and trying to fly. He practiced with an uprooted tree broom once, he just never got around to identifying what kind of broom it was though.
He may not have dedicated his entire school time to “flying” class, but he did dedicate his entire study time, when he should have been doing homework and practicing for practical examinations, to researching anything that fell under the category of “flying”, such as the history of broomstick companies, the advantages and disadvantages of certain broomsticks, Koldovstoretz’s history and legacy of using an uprooted tree as a response to RAPP. He studied different Flying Sports, such as Quidditch, Broom Racing, Creaothceann, Shuntbumps and more. He read up on aerodynamic uniforms and realized that the Koldovstoretz Uniforms might not be as aerodynamic, given that they were basically the old uniforms before the new Director took over.
Based on what he has researched and read about himself, every morning that he did not have class, he would hop onto a broom and fly, training himself, even applying the proper pre-flight rules that he had learned about from his reading. The first was to be aware of his surroundings, and he was well aware of the amount of space he had to fly, but he also looked around to see if there were anybody that he could potentially slam into, not that it was what he wanted, but he needed to be careful.
The second was for him to respect his fellow wizards. Well, if it were just him in his own space right now, as it was, there was no one else in his proximity. The third was to check his broom. He ran his hand over the shaft of the broom gently, trying to see if he could get a splinter. No, no splinter whatsoever. He checked the brush to see if there were any loose or irregular twigs sticking out, nothing. Okay, so the broom looked fine, there was no warping, no irregularities, so he was good to go.
He hopped onto the broom and took off towards where Koldovstoretz played their Quidditch Games and where they practiced. He saw the practicing group below, though he didn’t identify any of them, he began to fly around in circles and with a singsongy voice yelled “ITS MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” He smirked, happy he was somewhat a proficient Flyer, and had knowledge for Flying that one would have to learn through Flying Class, just because he did some reading and studying and practicing.
COPY CODE FOR ABILITY TO ADD TO TRUNK
Approved
In my mind and in my car, we can't rewind, we've gone too far. (Video Killed The Radio Star - The Buggles)
Clark
School Year or Adult Level: 4
Stat Changes: You can find everything about stat points here. OLD: sta 10 • eva 13 • str 0 • wis 9 • arc 6 • acc 10 |||| NEW: sta 10 • eva 13 • str 0 • wis 9 • arc 11 • acc 10
Change: +5 Arc (6->11)
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Prodigal Flying
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
He had an interest in being one of the best flyers at Koldovstoretz, but he was not on a broom racing or quidditch team. Instead, he would be the one just hopping onto a broom and trying to fly. He practiced with an uprooted tree broom once, he just never got around to identifying what kind of broom it was though.
He may not have dedicated his entire school time to “flying” class, but he did dedicate his entire study time, when he should have been doing homework and practicing for practical examinations, to researching anything that fell under the category of “flying”, such as the history of broomstick companies, the advantages and disadvantages of certain broomsticks, Koldovstoretz’s history and legacy of using an uprooted tree as a response to RAPP. He studied different Flying Sports, such as Quidditch, Broom Racing, Creaothceann, Shuntbumps and more. He read up on aerodynamic uniforms and realized that the Koldovstoretz Uniforms might not be as aerodynamic, given that they were basically the old uniforms before the new Director took over.
Based on what he has researched and read about himself, every morning that he did not have class, he would hop onto a broom and fly, training himself, even applying the proper pre-flight rules that he had learned about from his reading. The first was to be aware of his surroundings, and he was well aware of the amount of space he had to fly, but he also looked around to see if there were anybody that he could potentially slam into, not that it was what he wanted, but he needed to be careful.
The second was for him to respect his fellow wizards. Well, if it were just him in his own space right now, as it was, there was no one else in his proximity. The third was to check his broom. He ran his hand over the shaft of the broom gently, trying to see if he could get a splinter. No, no splinter whatsoever. He checked the brush to see if there were any loose or irregular twigs sticking out, nothing. Okay, so the broom looked fine, there was no warping, no irregularities, so he was good to go.
He hopped onto the broom and took off towards where Koldovstoretz played their Quidditch Games and where they practiced. He saw the practicing group below, though he didn’t identify any of them, he began to fly around in circles and with a singsongy voice yelled “ITS MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” He smirked, happy he was somewhat a proficient Flyer, and had knowledge for Flying that one would have to learn through Flying Class, just because he did some reading and studying and practicing.
COPY CODE FOR ABILITY TO ADD TO TRUNK
Code: Select all
[quote]PRODIGAL FLYING LEARNER[reducio]He had an interest in being one of the best flyers at Koldovstoretz, but he was not on a broom racing or quidditch team. Instead, he would be the one just hopping onto a broom and trying to fly. He practiced with an uprooted tree broom once, he just never got around to identifying what kind of broom it was though.
He may not have dedicated his entire school time to “flying” class, but he did dedicate his entire study time, when he should have been doing homework and practicing for practical examinations, to researching anything that fell under the category of “flying”, such as the history of broomstick companies, the advantages and disadvantages of certain broomsticks, Koldovstoretz’s history and legacy of using an uprooted tree as a response to RAPP. He studied different Flying Sports, such as Quidditch, Broom Racing, Creaothceann, Shuntbumps and more. He read up on aerodynamic uniforms and realized that the Koldovstoretz Uniforms might not be as aerodynamic, given that they were basically the old uniforms before the new Director took over.
Based on what he has researched and read about himself, every morning that he did not have class, he would hop onto a broom and fly, training himself, even applying the proper pre-flight rules that he had learned about from his reading. The first was to be aware of his surroundings, and he was well aware of the amount of space he had to fly, but he also looked around to see if there were anybody that he could potentially slam into, not that it was what he wanted, but he needed to be careful.
The second was for him to respect his fellow wizards. Well, if it were just him in his own space right now, as it was, there was no one else in his proximity. The third was to check his broom. He ran his hand over the shaft of the broom gently, trying to see if he could get a splinter. No, no splinter whatsoever. He checked the brush to see if there were any loose or irregular twigs sticking out, nothing. Okay, so the broom looked fine, there was no warping, no irregularities, so he was good to go.
He hopped onto the broom and took off towards where Koldovstoretz played their Quidditch Games and where they practiced. He saw the practicing group below, though he didn’t identify any of them, he began to fly around in circles and with a singsongy voice yelled “ITS MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” He smirked, happy he was somewhat a proficient Flyer, and had knowledge for Flying that one would have to learn through Flying Class, just because he did some reading and studying and practicing.
[/reducio][/quote]In my mind and in my car, we can't rewind, we've gone too far. (Video Killed The Radio Star - The Buggles)
Clark
Jayden Holt
Ability applications
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Here
School Year or Adult Level: Year 7
Stat Changes: N/A
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Nonverbal (Year 6 ability)
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
TRUNK CODING
Approved
School Year or Adult Level: Year 7
Stat Changes: N/A
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Nonverbal (Year 6 ability)
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Reducio
Nonverbal spells weren’t something formally taught at Ilvermorny until a student’s later years, around fifth or sixth year. Being in the Duelling Club, however, gave Jayden a tremendous head start, joining the club in her first year. Her first few duels caught the attention of a particular clique of duellists, members of the Duelling Club impressed by Jayden’s skill, and took her under their mentorship wing. Secretly, they would meet in rooms for training and mock duels, specializing in nonverbal magic that made Jayden envious in awe. Duelling was meant to prepare oneself for real life combat after all, they reasoned. Nonverbal magic was one of those essential survival tools to gain the element of surprise over one’s opponent. So long as she didn’t flaunt it during any official duels, in front of any professors or prefects, Jayden didn’t see anything wrong with some “extra learning” and getting herself ahead of the game.
She started on training dummies, practicing duelling spells, which at first seemed to hit everything and everyone but her intended target, if she could even convince her wand to work in the first place. The older year students were helpful, giving her tips and tricks to hone her wand movements and concentration in silent spellcasting. Perhaps the flexibility of a first year child’s brain was too “chaotic” for nonverbal magic, compared to a more mature sixth year’s, taking a few years longer for her magic to stabilize and rewire itself. Once those neural connections sank in however, they held firm, stronger and faster than if she had started later, Jayden believed.
It took her a couple of years to get the hang of it and be deemed “safe” enough for her duelling clique to finally allow her to practice on live dummies–fellow students–in an unsanctioned training arena. By the time the school’s curriculum rolled around for Jayden and her class to actually learn about nonverbal magic, she was able to cast it without nearly as much difficulty and concentration as her classmates. What she might snobbily chalk up to genes or pure-blood giftedness, at the time, so as to not squeal on her duelling clique, masking the depths of her ability in front of others at school. Indeed, perhaps the affinity for nonverbal magic did run in the blood as well, no shortage of inspiration in Jayden’s own wizarding family, parents and grandparents, to motivate her to mimic their nonverbal and wandless spells in the household. T’was all simply a part of growing up, in her journey towards refinement.
She started on training dummies, practicing duelling spells, which at first seemed to hit everything and everyone but her intended target, if she could even convince her wand to work in the first place. The older year students were helpful, giving her tips and tricks to hone her wand movements and concentration in silent spellcasting. Perhaps the flexibility of a first year child’s brain was too “chaotic” for nonverbal magic, compared to a more mature sixth year’s, taking a few years longer for her magic to stabilize and rewire itself. Once those neural connections sank in however, they held firm, stronger and faster than if she had started later, Jayden believed.
It took her a couple of years to get the hang of it and be deemed “safe” enough for her duelling clique to finally allow her to practice on live dummies–fellow students–in an unsanctioned training arena. By the time the school’s curriculum rolled around for Jayden and her class to actually learn about nonverbal magic, she was able to cast it without nearly as much difficulty and concentration as her classmates. What she might snobbily chalk up to genes or pure-blood giftedness, at the time, so as to not squeal on her duelling clique, masking the depths of her ability in front of others at school. Indeed, perhaps the affinity for nonverbal magic did run in the blood as well, no shortage of inspiration in Jayden’s own wizarding family, parents and grandparents, to motivate her to mimic their nonverbal and wandless spells in the household. T’was all simply a part of growing up, in her journey towards refinement.
TRUNK CODING
Code: Select all
[center][quote][img]/images/upload/hha21s.webp[/img][/quote]
[quote]Stamina [b]10[/b] ⟡ Evasion [b]10[/b] ⟡ Strength [b]4[/b] ⟡ Wisdom [b]20[/b] ⟡ Arcane Power [b]11[/b] ⟡ Accuracy [b]10[/b][/quote]
[quote][size=100][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=1272573#p1272573]Animagus[/url][/size][/center]
[quote][center]⌖ [b][u]M.O.M. FILE[/u][/b] ⌖[/center]
[b]1. Wizard Name:[/b] Jayden Holt
[b]2. Animal:[/b] Gray Wolf ([i]Canis lupus[/i])
[b]3. Description:[/b] Slightly larger than the average female: 31 inches (2’7”) tall at the shoulders, 50 inches (4’2”) long from nose to rump, with a 16-inch (1’4”) long tail, and weighing about 80 pounds. Her fur is a milky brown color, tinged with dark ashen brown on her dorsal side, with faded white undersides. Her eyes are a deep golden yellow.
[b]4. Distinctive Marking:[/b] A bright scarlet red band of fur around her neck. In Human form, it is an intricate tribal tattoo painted with magical ink that wraps around Jayden’s collarbone and the back of her shoulders. In wolf form, the pattern is mottled, covered with fur, and glows a fiery yellow-orange-pink color in the dark (does NOT glow in Human form).[/quote]
[quote][center][b]Animagus Form Stats[/b][/center]
[b]Size:[/b] Medium [0]
[b]Skills:[/b] Claws [1], Bite [1]
[b]Stat Allocation:[/b] [40]: Wisdom [b]9[/b] ⟡ Stamina [b]10[/b] ⟡ Strength [b]7[/b] ⟡ Accuracy [b]9[/b] ⟡ Evasion [b]5[/b]
[b]Total Points Used:[/b] 10
[b]Explanation:[/b] Wolves have teeth (bite) and claws. Higher stamina, wisdom and accuracy as they are chase predators and strategic ambush hunters.[/quote]
[quote]Year 1 ❖ [b]Perfectionist[/b]
[reducio]It all started with upbringing, and perhaps ran a little in the genes as well. Nature or nurture, Jayden had been imprinted with ideals of perfectionism since she was a toddler. Not so much by her own parents, but from relatives and extended members of the Holt and Speirs clans - particularly those of elite and upper-class circles - who saw it best to educate Jayden in all refined, classy, and “respectable” aspects of pure-blood wizarding society. Table etiquette, ballroom dancing, attire, and tactfulness of speech… Not a step, frill, or hair out of place. With these rigorous lessons came the instillation of self-discipline, as well as the more inspiring notion that one could become anything so long as they set their mind to it. Practice did make perfect, after all.
Her parents, while more lenient and less demanding of what their daughter ought to pursue for her future, never failed to stress the importance a clean room (for “A clear space is a clear mind”, and the road to perfectionism first began with tidying up one’s quarters), along with high grades - once Jayden arrived at Ilvermorny - for nothing short of excellence would guarantee to unlock as many doors as possible for Jayden’s future, even if she never opened any of them, at least the opportunities would always be there for her to consider later on.
Unfortunately, the boring and monotonous task of reading and writing - the basis upon which academic success was hinged - did not come so easily enticing. Jayden was a stubborn physical learner, to no fault of her own genetics. Yet she was determined to succeed, and to make her parents proud. Through many tutors (some begged for, others bribed for), and though it often took twice as long for her to absorb words on paper, Jayden forced herself to “enjoy” studying and achieve high marks. Being a perfectionist in the academic sense did not come natural at first, but through hard work and self-discipline, Jayden adopted the mentality and accomplished that which she set her goals on. And with her newfound reputation to keep as being a “smart” student, all the more pushed Jayden to reach the top of her class.
Hands-on activity, however, was a different story. Books could only achieve so much, and luckily were not so important in the long run, compared to one’s skill with a wand.
[i]That[/i] was where Jayden’s perfectionism really came into play.[/reducio]Year 2 ❖ [b]Perfectionist 2[/b]
[reducio]Feeling the instant spark of connection flow through her from her wand, was a moment long dreamed of by Jayden, the day she arrived at Ilvermorny at the start of her first year. All Jayden wanted to do at school was practice spells, excelling at Charms and DADA right off the bat, as far as the actual performance of spells was concerned. While Jayden only devoted enough time to books in order to “get by” with acing the next assignment, pop-quiz or test, words on paper hardly registered in her mind long-term, not without some physical accompaniment to sear it into memory. She was a true tactile learner, enrapt by the grandeur of spellcasting. Books were all fluff. Spells were real substance, not only in which all the fun was to be had, but the only thing one could depend on to save their life when facing an enemy. Nothing excited Jayden more than to put her spell work to the test, to hone her skill with the wand and build up practical experience. Books, she could force herself to endure, but spellcasting was where Jayden’s zeal for learning truly lied.
Dueling was to prepare her for those worst case scenarios, an activity that her parents strongly encouraged, and which Jayden felt immediately drawn to participate in. No surprise, considering both of her parents and a majority of the Holt and Speirs clans were also Wampuses, many of them pursuing Auror careers in light of their potential. Living up to the “warrior” stereotype of her House, Jayden found thrill in the Dueling arena and dedicated herself to the sport. Whenever she wasn’t occupied with schoolwork, Jayden would train in the Dueling ring every chance she got. Winning was always the goal. Still, it was only practice, no matter how heated and competitive the matches got. Jayden wasn’t a sore loser, nor did she boast about her victories. Rather, she viewed Dueling as a chance to teach and to learn from others. If she failed a match, Jayden bore no shame in asking the winner for lessons on their strategy. Regardless of House or blood status, wizardkind was a team (according to the “traitorous” beliefs of her parents). In fairness of teamwork, Jayden wouldn’t withhold from sharing her own Dueling techniques with her competitors as well, despite being aware of every Duelist’s underlying motive to one day use an opponents’ techniques against them. All the more, this prompted Jayden to stay on top of her game, to perfect every spell and constantly strive for better, keeping one step ahead of her opponents.[/reducio]Year 3 ❖ [b]Fearless[/b]
[reducio]Fear of heights was never an obstacle for Jayden, growing up in the Rocky Mountains in Wyoming. Part of her family’s house was built along the side of a steep mountain cliff. Poking her head perilously out of a window or over a balcony, Jayden could stare down from the miles-long sheer drop, admiring the beauty of the valley below, without feeling a heart drop in her chest. Not as dangerous as riding a creature with a mind of its own, from the same height in mid-air. Jayden was on the back of a hippogriff before she could walk, wrapped in the protective arm of her father for her first joyride through the sky. Freedom and bliss. The caress of wind brought smiles and giggles to the infant’s face, unfazed by the reality of falling distance below her. Riding hippogriffs and winged horses proved to be Jayden’s introductory course in mounting a broom for the first time at Ilvermorny, which she adjusted fairly quickly to. At least brooms didn’t have [i]half[/i] so much a mind of their own. Aside from Charms and DADA, Flying became second nature to her, though Quidditch didn’t call so much to her competitive interests than Dueling.
There was no shortage of adventures and dangers to be found in the remote wilderness surrounding the Holts’ homestead. Both magical and non-magical alike lurked in the woods, requiring no small amount of bravery for Jayden to step in and protect her loved ones from an attacker. From an early age, Jayden learned to mask her fear in tending to the family’s menagerie of magical creatures. Animals often reflected a person’s emotions, and a calm and quiet mind was necessary to be able to tame and handle most of them. Hippogriffs and winged horses of note.
It wasn’t until she stepped foot in the Dueling ring that Jayden really learned how to [i]control[/i] her fear. Where fortitude and mental strength was put to the test, in a battle of wands. Stage fright was easier to overcome than her opponents, who came in all walks of life (some more naturally [i]intimidating[/i] than others). Over time, Jayden learned to hone her focus and sharpen her concentration to a spear, in order to pierce the veil of illusion of fear intended to distract her. Even if it was “only a game”, Dueling was preparation for the real-world thing. Jayden wouldn’t allow any fear to get the best of her, in learning to stand strong on her own.[/reducio]Year 4 ❖ [b]Blindvision[/b]
[reducio][i][b]"Yeah, right,"[/b] Jayden scoffed, stuffing her precious few belongings in the leather drawstring bag to be slung over her shoulder in the morning when she left her grandparents' New York apartment for the summer in Wyoming. At the end of her first year, she had already made a friend and house guest of Hadrian Zuheir, whose ego had bluffed the skills and moxie to "vacation" with her, to which she sneered. [b]"You wouldn't last a day without a toilet and a mirror. [i]And[/i] a wand."[/b][/i]
It was a challenge she led by example, wand forgotten within the folds of her deerskin dress as she stood at the threshold of the secret entryway, the dim interior light of the cabin against her back, lapping at the wall of abyss before her.
[b]"Scared of a little dark?"[/b] Pearly whites flashed, detecting a twinge of apprehension from Hadrian beside her. Moccasins padded their way silently as she stepped forward, enveloping her in shadow. [b]"Need me to hold your hand?"[/b] Her chuckle echoed, transitioning from wood to stone. [b]"[i]Relax.[/i]"[/b] She teased, body disconnected, separated by a veil of pitch black. [b]"It's only one way, you know."[/b]
If Hadrian thought it couldn't get any worse, being in a dingy old cabin, [i]boy[/i] had he been in for a shock when he realized that [i]wasn't[/i] where he'd be sleeping tonight.
[i][b]"Don't be a wimp,"[/b] Mr. Zuheir stated flatly, before taking the portkey himself to the end destination. Thus marked the start of "boot camp" for his eldest son.
Twenty miles was a hop, skip, and a jump away – provided Hadrian's whining and heavy feet didn't give her a migraine and slow them down.[/i]
[b]"Shut up, keep up, or I'll leave you!"[/b] She growled irritably.
Stripped of his own wand, at the dictation of his father, Hadrian didn't really have a choice but to follow, unless if he wanted to [i]permanently[/i] stay entombed in here.
She knew the main highways like the back of her hand, those tunnels that made up the Village labyrinth. Calling the whole thing a "house" was an understatement, though the complex of caves and cabins was communally inhabited and Jayden referred to it all ambiguously as such. Since toddlerhood, her hands and feet had felt over every pebble and crevice in the tunnel that connected her family's cabin to the Village proper, until she no longer relied on torchlight to navigate each bend, legs measuring out each pace with a preprogrammed sense of direction, and fingertips brushing the air and stone where instinct wavered, after a whole school year since she last trod this path.
Her eyes adjusted swiftly to the familiar dark she had been accustomed to since her youth, imprinted by the Village. Owing to her Fearless nature, she and other children had made a perilous game of who could venture the farthest from the beaten paths, deeper into the belly of the mountain, where ghost stories abounded of those who had wandered off and disappeared, never to be seen again. Magic was not a crutch for the Villagers to lean on at the slightest discomfort. Neither was fire, for sight. Mother Nature knew best, as it had taught her ancestors to embrace the elements around them. Darkness included. Whether it be under a moonlit sky or in the shadowy depths of a cavern, Darkness was not something Jayden craved, but a force she learned to work with, to respect, to accept, and to be prepared for.
Darkness taught her to be [i]calm[/i], first of all. To be stripped of sight, panic and irrational fear of the unknown lurking within the shadows were the first to sink in, paralyze and disorient a victim, and the first she learned to gain control of. Once fear of the dark was conquered, a clear mind could focus on honing the other senses. Not just the immediate hearing, smell and touch, for even those could be deceiving. Whether she be blinded by rain, fog, snow, mud, or underwater depths, [i]trust your instincts[/i] was the most difficult to master, bolstered by a heightened awareness to her surroundings, sharpening a photographic memory to her terrain and whereabouts, so in the blink of an eye, whenever the light switched off or weather shifted, she would be able to map her way forward or retrace her steps. Or at least not have a mental breakdown in the middle of wherever she was.
A skill which followed her to the New York City nightlife, and the Dueling arena beyond…
[i]Darkness.[/i] The great even playing field. For the world would not be so full of greed in lust for the visual, if everyone were blind. She and Hadrian were simply two lonely souls in the void as she kept up a steady pace, Hadrian calling out every minute or so to complain, if not to keep track of where she was in front of him.
Until the faint orange glow of torchlight appeared over the slope; the ache in her feet nothing compared to her relief that they had made it to the Village just in time for supper.
[b]"We're here,"[/b] she breathed.
She couldn't wait to show Hadrian the sunrise view from the summits in the morning. If she could drag him out of bed, that was.[/reducio]Year 6 ❖ [b]Nonverbal[/b]
[reducio]Nonverbal spells weren’t something formally taught at Ilvermorny until a student’s later years, around fifth or sixth year. Being in the Duelling Club, however, gave Jayden a tremendous head start, joining the club in her first year. Her first few duels caught the attention of a particular clique of duellists, members of the Duelling Club impressed by Jayden’s skill, and took her under their mentorship wing. Secretly, they would meet in rooms for training and mock duels, specializing in nonverbal magic that made Jayden envious in awe. Duelling was meant to prepare oneself for real life combat after all, they reasoned. Nonverbal magic was one of those essential survival tools to gain the element of surprise over one’s opponent. So long as she didn’t flaunt it during any official duels, in front of any professors or prefects, Jayden didn’t see anything wrong with some “extra learning” and getting herself ahead of the game.
She started on training dummies, practicing duelling spells, which at first seemed to hit everything and everyone but her intended target, if she could even convince her wand to work in the first place. The older year students were helpful, giving her tips and tricks to hone her wand movements and concentration in silent spellcasting. Perhaps the flexibility of a first year child’s brain was too “chaotic” for nonverbal magic, compared to a more mature sixth year’s, taking a few years longer for her magic to stabilize and rewire itself. Once those neural connections sank in however, they held firm, stronger and faster than if she had started later, Jayden believed.
It took her a couple of years to get the hang of it and be deemed “safe” enough for her duelling clique to finally allow her to practice on live dummies–fellow students–in an unsanctioned training arena. By the time the school’s curriculum rolled around for Jayden and her class to actually learn about nonverbal magic, she was able to cast it without nearly as much difficulty and concentration as her classmates. What she might snobbily chalk up to genes or pure-blood giftedness, at the time, so as to not squeal on her duelling clique, masking the depths of her ability in front of others at school. Indeed, perhaps the affinity for nonverbal magic did run in the blood as well, no shortage of inspiration in Jayden’s own wizarding family, parents and grandparents, to motivate her to mimic their nonverbal and wandless spells in the household. T’was all simply a part of growing up, in her journey towards refinement.[/reducio][/quote]
Ability applications
ApprovedLink to your encyclopedia thread: X
School Year or Adult Level: 7th Year
Stat Changes: (+1 to Wisdom from Duelling win vs. Ravenclaw (May 2025) -- permitted because the duel had commenced but had yet to be concluded prior to the iNPC change)
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Restricted Transfiguration
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): (wc 531)
ReducioIt had all started with a simple, silly, honestly-rather-ridiculous moment of frustration. When the time had come for Hogwarts' Spring Ball just this past year, Greta had gone all out in her effort to make matching outfits for herself and her boyfriend, @Felix Kolbeck, to match the ethereal whismy of the theme--a lunar moth and death-head moth, respectively--complete with wings (or cape in Felix's case), attire, and mothy antennae head-pieces. Tragically, her boyfriend's carefully crafted accessory had landed itself in the lake somehow, leaving it entirely destroyed and absolutely unwearable. If only she'd had enough time, she could have crafted him a replacement. Alternatively, if only she knew how to summon the prototype that she had left at home in Norway, sitting right there in the middle of her destressed white birch desk she could have simply waved her wand and had a replacement for him in a matter of seconds.
That seed, planted firmly in her mind, had bloomed over the course of that visit. With all the switching spells and various means of summoning animals and effects out of seemingly thin air, surely there must be a way to summon one's own belongings from a known location. How useful that would be! Gone would be the days of packing anxiety, worrying about whether she had brought everything she might possibly need for one trip or another. No longer would she have to leave the home with a rain coat just in case, only for the sky to fail to let loose a single drop of rain despite a heavy blanket of ominous dark clouds. Never again would she have to forego whittling a wand because she didn't have her crafting tools on hand in that exact moment when creative inspiration happened to strike. And so she had set herself a bit of self-assigned research in an effort to hunt down such practical arcane knowledge.
The result was several days spent lounging in the Hogwarts Restricted Section, secret understanding unlocking in leaps and bounds as she fell more and more deeply into the revelations of the more abstract and contentious applications of Transfiguration. And then weeks in the depths of Durmstrang's library as she followed up on those spells and areas of research that had had found particularly interesting. Like the answer to the question that had sent here there in the first place. In truth, there were some of the spells that she really couldn't understand why they were restricted from the general student population the way they were. Others, though, were definitely on the more nefarious side. Or, such as the case with the ability to transfigure objects into small DRAGONS, could easily go awry in the wrong hands. That wasn't going to stop her from learning how to cast it, though. Lips had curled into an impish grin almost immediately at the thought of tormenting @Boram Barisova and @Arno Dorian. Perhaps it could even be harnessed for some good old-fashioned Quidditch exercises. What better motivation to learn more advanced broom maneuvering than to avoid tiny painful fireballs.
Yes. Now that she had cracked open this particular forbidden fruit, she wouldn't hesitate to gorge herself.
Trunk Code:
ReducioCode: Select all
[quote][center]─────────────────────── [size=150]T R U N K[/size] ───────────────────────[/center][/quote] [quote][center][img]/images/upload/xdj12g.webp[/img][/center][/quote] [quote][center]────────────────────────────────────────── S T A T I S T I C S ───[/center] [center][size=110]S[/size]TA | [size=125][b]7[/b][/size] [size=110]S[/size]TR | [size=125][b]1[/b][/size] [size=110]E[/size]VA | [size=125][b]25[/b][/size] [size=110]W[/size]IS | [size=125][b]13[/b][/size] [size=110]A[/size]RC | [size=125][b]12[/b][/size] [size=110]A[/size]CC | [size=125][b]20[/b][/size] [reducio][center][i]+1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=40&t=9840&start=90#p157988]Quidditch win[/url] vs. Slytherin (April 2020) +1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=40&t=13593&start=150#p225180]Quidditch win[/url] vs. Slytherin (Oct 2020) +1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=40&t=15343&p=254406#p254406] Quidditch win [/url] vs. Ravenclaw (Jan 2021) +1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=269331#p2693319]Quidditch win[/url] vs. Hufflepuff (May 2021) +1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=286320#p286320]Quidditch win[/url] vs. Hydra & Wixes United (Aug 2021) +1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=306202#p306202]Quidditch win[/url] vs. Hufflepuff (Oct 2021) +1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=21161&start=70#p452628]Quidditch win[/url] vs. Slytherin (May 2022) +1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=738387#p738387]Duelling win[/url] vs. Ravenclaw (May 2023) +1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=28323&start=60#p766070]Quidditch win[/url] vs. Hogwarts (July 2023) +1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=29771&start=60#p893649]Duelling win[/url] vs. Ravenclaw (Nov 2023) +1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=1047209#p1046286]Quidditch win[/url] vs. Ilvermorny-Beauxbatons (Aug 2024) +1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=1199936#p1199936]Duelling win[/url] vs. Hufflepuff (Feb 2025) +1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=1322711#p1322711]Duelling win[/url] vs. Ravenclaw (May 2025)[/i][/center][/reducio][/center][/quote] [quote][center]─────────────────────────────────────────── A B I L I T I E S ───[/center] [b][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=7503&start=10#:~:text=to%20your%20stealth.-,Calming%20Presence,-Your%20presence%20simply]Calming Presence[/url][/b] — [i]An aura of calm. Allies (defined at the START of an instance regardless of later betrayal) gain a 10% chance to auto-hit their chosen target. This does not stack.[/i] [reducio][center]────── R A T I O N A L E ──────[/center] Calm. Collected. Reserved. Children ought to be seen, but not heard. This was the way of child rearing for some time, and a sentiment still held by many a family, pureblood or otherwise. Strictly speaking, Greta's family did not [i]quite[/i] hold tight to such a notion. Theirs was a relatively small and nuclear family with a proud, but modest living. A living that they were required to work to maintain. Her Greta's father had his breeding and husbandry, while her mother continued to master and expand her craft with wand-making. These were trades that would, in theory, be someday passed down to the Fransson children. In order to do so successfully, however, it meant that early rearing into the businesses would be required, alongside the careful cultivation of discipline and an appreciation for toil. This was more easily achieved with Greta, the younger of their two children, helped in no small amount by the fact that she had chosen to refrain from attending muggle school in the nearby town in favour of receiving an education provided by her parents that they tailored towards their family businesses and the wizarding traditions that had held to for so many years. That Greta took to their teachings and allowed herself to be moulded and crafted to their preference, so readily doing as she was told and ultimately playing the part of an ideal daughter instilled within her parents a great deal of comfort. In her, at least, they could rest assured that the wand-making — as that was the task to which she gravitated with more keen interest than the tending of the magical animals — would carry on in their line. Greta's demure and reliable nature went beyond her dedication to her role within the structure of home and family. Although it was no doubt an irritation at times for Hanzo, the fact that she took such an interest in his life and whereabouts was a comfort to their parents. Especially given his attendance at the muggle school, they couldn't watch over him the way they could Greta. Nor were they generally inclined to wander into the town proper more than necessary. Given her tendency to accompany him to and from his place of study, however, she could — and often did — serve the bridge between them, reporting to their parents his whereabouts and level of well-being, while also passively acting to curb any wild tendencies that might have arisen due to her incessant — nearly to the point of obsessive — need to be with him. More importantly, Greta always had Hanzo's back. Quiet and shy she might be, but she was every ounce of her a capable witch in her own right. Elusive, agile, collected and capable, she could support him in a duel if ever it came down to it. Plus, having grown up with him, she possessed an uncanny ability to read her brother's intent, able to react accordingly in an instant without the need for lengthy discussion. She dedicated herself to her studies at Durmstrang, proving herself to be a quick study with spells, and an above-average mage with wicked aim. And even on the pitch, the team could always rely on her to net them a few goals. She was reliable. All those who knew her well and she considered within her circle could rest assured that her presence, regardless of the situation, would contribute positively. [quote][center][b]Word Count: [/b]566[/center][/quote][/reducio][b][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=7503&start=10#:~:text=the%20Imperius%20Curse.-,Perfectionist,-When%20you%20cast]Perfectionist I[/url][/b] — [i]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).[/i] [reducio][center]────── R A T I O N A L E ──────[/center] Excellence. Superiority. Consistency in everything. Concepts hardly foreign to many households, they held especially true within that of the Fransson's. Pureblood and proud, there was little room for any sign of weakness. As the yougner of the two Fransson children, Greta lived perpetually in the shadow of her elder brother and felt this keenly. This year, she had taken one step to differentiate herself. Or, perhaps the better explanation would be that where Hanzo had taken one, she had not. Or at least... hadn't intended to. Where Hanzo had drifted from his position as chaser and captain of the Durmstrang Quidditch team, Greta had meant to remain on the team. Influenced in part by her success on the pitch against Hogwarts, as well as her desire to remain playing alongside her friend, Ella, Greta had fought the urge to pad after Hanzo as he drifted towards duelling. Despite this, Greta's attention [i]had[/i] drifted towards duelling in some capacity. There was little doubt that she could execute in the air upon a broom. Her presence as a chaser had been a commanding one, earning herself many a praising word, and even an admirer or two. But after the camp, there had been one event that had stuck with her, eating away at her self-confidence: the team-based duelling chess game. This was only furthered by parental pressure, which would ultimately prove the stronger. Quidditch was hardly a suitable pursuit when she was expected to invest in the family business of wand making. They were a family bound to the wand, not the broom. Although her performance had hardly been something to evoke a snide remark, neither had it been particularly impressive. For days afterwards, she had dwelled on the fact that, under pressure, her spells had failed her nearly as often as they had succeeded. As a student from a prodigious combat-oriented school, this had sat poorly with her indeed. She was the progeny of a wand-maker. Poor casting performance would never do. What was worse, her mother had somehow caught wind of her embarrassing performance, and the sight of her lips pursed in disapproval had nearly sundered the young girl's heart in twain. As a result, for the remainder of the summer, Greta had devoted herself to independent study, determined to make of herself a more worthy duellist. By the time school had started yet again, not only had she succeeded in drastically improving the consistency of her spell-casting, rarely failing a spell now; she had also gained better command of her wand. Unless circumstances were out of her control, it no longer back-fired against her. Something for which she was more than a little glad for all the balm and wrappings she had requested of her father in secret whenever her wand would act up in temperamental practice in her overzealous practice. She would do her parents proud. Or strive to at least. As unimposing as she was, all she could do would be to minimise her ineptitude. To practice those things she was capable of honing to perfection. [quote][center][b]Word Count: [/b]510[/center][/quote][/reducio][b][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=7503&start=10#:~:text=the%20Charmer%20ability.-,Spell%20Spread,-You%20go%20big]Spell Spread[/url][/b] — [i]You can elect to reduce the accuracy of your spell by -2, increase the DC by 2 and the critical failure range by +1 to target a second user with your spell.[/i] [reducio][center]────── R A T I O N A L E ──────[/center] Let it not be said that inaction flowed through the veins of the youngest of the Fransson's. While Quidditch had held a certain allure to the sport and the rush of wind to tousle her hair and the thrill of chasing down the quaffle were dearly missed, Greta fully accepted the change to her extracurricular career. From the moment she had joined the Durmstrang duelling team, she had been invested. While spellwork came relatively easily to the girl, [i]good[/i] simply wasn't good [i]enough[/i] and she had spent countless hours in the forest behind her home practicing her spellwork on unsuspecting vegetation. More than a few of the trees bordering their property sported the effects of her efforts. Deep gashes shimmered with dried sap where a flick of her wrist had sent a slash through the bark. Others found themselves adorned in the latest fashion of charcoal and ash where conflagrations had been allowed to catch and hold for a short time before being extinguished. Pock marks marred the ground where she had set up small objects to serve as target practice for various spells, their forms soon finding themselves flung free of their pedestals to land with a padded thud to fall into the loving embrace of the mossy forest floor. It had become something of her own little place of respite, as good as any to relish in her growing abilities while also loosing whatever frustrations plagued her. Such was how she'd found herself there again at the start of the summer. She did need to practice, that was true. There'd been rumour that perhaps they might be returning to Hogwarts even sooner than she might have expected. Really, it was almost as though the English school was becoming something of a second home. She'd thought perhaps the last occasion would be a one-time opportunity for her. Instead, staff had spoken about representing Durmstrang not only in air upon their brooms, but also with the wand. And that prospect positively [i]terrified[/i] Greta. What if she failed? What if she [i]lost[/i]? Not only would she dishonour her school, but her family as well. With her mother as a wandmaker, she had something of a name to uphold. A standard to strive for. It was as much fear of failure as it was ambition to win that led her to take her place among the foliage every morning and well into the day. With each day that passed, for every day that the competition drew nearer, her aptitude increased only to a point. Then, for whatever reason, it seemed to wane. Exhaustion, perhaps? Desperation? She found that where before, she could cast incessantly without fail, now her wand would falter nine times of ten. Even her accuracy seemed to falter, the spell sometimes seeming to divert of its own accord as though just to spite her. She couldn't have that. She couldn't. Her parents would have to be made proud. Durmstang as well. There would be no greater embarrassment than if it were because of her that her team were to fall short. Plus...An idea had occurred to her. If she could shine...maybe she could catch the attention of a certain someone, prove to him and their families that she could be a competent witch and a suitable match. This was when it had happened for the first time. Thoughts of Niche actually commending her abilities and the subsequent little fantasies that had followed had filled her with a sudden longing and thrill. The unleashing of the following spell had been [i]explosive[/i]. Where she'd intended to carve a line into the trunk of the tree nearest to her, the sudden crashing and cracking of a small sapling nearby as it toppled to the ground revealed that her spell had not been isolated to only the one target. Somehow, it had split, mirroring itself to the second as well. Surprised but intrigued, she continued to hone that newfound power, replicating it until she could do so at a whim. [quote][center][b]Word Count: [/b]672[/center][/quote] [/reducio][b][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=7503&start=10#:~:text=the%20higher%20roll).-,Thunderbird%20Tail%20Feather,-Wands%20from%20Thunderbird]Wandmaker[/url][/b] — [Thunderbird Tail Feather | Larch | 28.6 cm | Springy] [i]Once you reach 30% of your max HP, you gain +2 Arc, +2 Eva, and +2 Acc. If healed above 30%, these bonuses are lost.[/i] [reducio][center]────── R A T I O N A L E ──────[/center] The family business. It was all Greta's parents seemed to care about for her. Her mother, Astrid, had made it her life's mission to develop and hone her ability as a wandmaker, earning the respect of many wizarding families in central Europe and abroad. For years, she had yearned to see Greta join her in that pursuit, with the plan for her to eventually take the business over when she had come into her own. And for years, Greta had resisted the (not so) gentle urgings, eager instead to follow after her brother in pursuit of whatever flavour of the month had captured his interest. For the longest time, that had been Quidditch. There had been a certain confidence that had gilded itself upon her heart during her foray of freedom amidst the clouds. Stature and lack of physical prowess meant little in the air and she was free to carve her own significance, learning to support her team in her own way. At least until her parents had pulled her from the team, spouting notions that it was savage, unrefined, and hardly befitting of a young girl such as her. Duelling, they had said, would be more appropriate. More applicable as well, in fact. [i]And[/i] would offer an opportunity to showcase their family wands and demonstrate their superiority of quality and power. That had meant little to Greta at the time, but as it happened, it quickly became apparent that despite a very notable lack of stamina or physical presence, the Fransson sister had a talent for martial magic. Discipline honed from rearing beneath the expectant gaze of her parents treated her well. She had always been an able caster, but that talent flourished on the duelling team. Carving a certain paradoxical notoriety for herself at school, she even went on to play a significant role in an impressive victory against Hogwarts the past summer. And yet, despite her apparent skill, she would shrink away from independence. If a decision arose, she would reflexively look to her brother or parents; or an elder student or respected figure if they weren't immediately present. The idea of getting in trouble terrified her; and the thought of disappointing her family left her paralyzed. In a school where confidence was key and a moment of hesitation could mean her undoing, how could she possibly expect to excel as she was now? That notion was all but solidified during her last excursion to Hogwarts. She may as well not have been present at the ball at all for all the good she had done her peers. Her wand work had spared Theo any prolonged embarrassment, but he wouldn't have gotten into that mess in the first place if it weren't for her. She was useless. Less than useless. Her brother had finally rid himself of her. Her old friends had largely forgotten her. Ella wouldn't talk to her and Niche had probably only accompanied her to the ball that one time out of pity. Or maybe just convenience to keep an eye on his sister. She wasn't special. She wasn't anybody. And try as she might, she couldn't think of any way to change that, not as she was now. But there wasn't really anything she could do about that. Not really. What she could do, however, was distract herself. She wasn't sure when it had happened, exactly, but at some point she had gotten it into her head to make herself a wand. It wasn't hard, not really. She had helped her mother gather and shape the wood before, and sort and prepare the cores for insertion. The steps were known and the material familiar. She had simply yet to put it all together. And if they wanted her to take over the business eventually, why not start now? The more she thought of it, the more the idea anchored itself. In a way, this would be one stage of striking out on her own. Her wand had been a gift from her mother, something of her creation. Just like she was. Just like her name and the rules that she followed. If there was any hope for her to be her own autonomous being, she would have to discard it with the rest of her shackles. She had already adopted "Greta" ages ago. Margarethe had always sounded so stiff to her. An aged name from a bygone era. The wand would just be the next phase. She could make herself a wand. She would... [b]Wood: Larch[/b]— Instilling confidence; that's what larch was well known for. It was one of the reasons that Greta had chosen it for her own wand. She had never felt confident. Not in herself, not in her abilities, not in her place among her family. If it wasn't her brother's shadow, then it was that of her friends. Or rather... those she would have liked to have been able to call friend. She wasn't sure if they considered her as such. How could they, really? She was just a little girl without a presence. She had to fight tooth and nail just to see over their shoulders or through the gaps between them. It was easier to stand on the perimeter and wait to be called. If they ever did. But that wasn't the type of person that she wanted to be. Not forever. Her mother and father, they had made names for themselves in their careers and in the magical community. Greta wanted to make them proud, to be able to stand her own ground, competent and capable of... [i]something[/i]. Whatever that might have been. She wanted to be able to tell Niche how she felt. To talk to Theo without feeling like she constantly had to look back over her shoulder. She wanted not to cringe at the drop of a pin, or worry about what the others thought of her. And if there really was some hidden truth to Larch.. if it really could help her find her place and draw out some hidden depth of courage she couldn't seem to find on her own... why wouldn't she choose it as her base? Plus, it wasn't like it was a poor choice. It was strong and durable and pretty to look at. It had a warmth to its tone that helped to chase off the chill of the northern Norwegian Spring. It was as good a wood as any other. And maybe it could help... [b]Core: Thunderbird Tail Feather[/b]— But what to use as the core? Now that was the real question. In preparation, she had spent time in her mother's store cupboard, handling each core (carefully) one at a time to see if she could detect any kind of connection. Admittedly, she wasn't sure if at any point she did or not. Some of them had left her hands feeling warm, or a fuzzy tingling feeling in her core... but then she couldn't reproduce that same sensation the next time she picked up the same core. There didn't seem to be any sort of consistency and she was left to believe it was all a doing of her own mind. And yet, time and again, she kept coming back to the selection of Thunderbird Tail Feathers. The one that she selected might not have been quite as handsome or pristine as the other, but it spoke to her in a way the others didn't. She wouldn't have known it at the time, of course, but the feather represented the storm that had start brewing inside of her. The values of her childhood bestowed upon her by her family were raging against those she was beginning to develop on those rare few excursions away from Durmstrang. Like the thunderbird core, there was a certain contrary side of her taking root, a nature that sought to rebel against the status quo and make her own decisions. But she would have to take care in doing so lest the urge present itself in a volatile delinquency better left to Yefim and the rest. Still, whatever caution she might have felt instinctually at the rise of independence could hardly stem her active desire for self-actualization. Thunderbird wands excel with complicated and large-scale transfigurations. What greater project than the self-actualization and reinventing of self? Of the caster themselves into a form best suited to the wand? One thing that could not ever be denied would be Greta's fighting spirit. As timid and docile as she might present herself under most circumstances, there was a little Valkyrie within her just yearning to take flight. It would come out now and then, showing its face during such times as quidditch and chess, when that black war paint would serve a mask to bring forth that which had been subdued and held down. It was a perfect fit, really, Thunderbird and Larch. Dangerous, even. It could pave the way for Greta to develop herself as her own individual, breaking from tradition and the binds of family expectation. [b]Length: 28.6 cm[/b]— Mousy and timid, few would describe Greta as lively or dramatic. But those were the individuals who only knew her superficially. Beneath the surface and behind her anxious mask stood a girl brimming with life and adventurous spirit. Of course, too long would hardly do. Greta might have been easy to smile and fast to laugh but she wasn't exactly gifted in stature. She was to be wielding a wand, not a yard stick. Still, neither could it be too short. It needed to house a tail feather, after all, and those weren't exactly ungenerous of length. It would be as long as it needed to be. [b]Flexibility: Springy[/b]— Ignorant of the realities of the world, Greta had always been a rather impressionable girl. Family values and parental ideals were, for the longest time, taken for face value. She upheld the notions of blood superiority without any reason to question it. Gullible and believing the best of everything and everyone, her beliefs were easily swayed and her path effortlessly redirectable. To say she was flexible would be an understatement. She was effectively without spine. It's a wonder she hadn't simply taken the nearest willow switch as her wand in the early days. But travel and exposure had a way of opening eyes and raising questions. Greta continues to remain flexible, but she is developing her own morality and beliefs and will learn to stand steadfast behind them. [quote][center][b]Word Count: [/b]1745[/center][/quote] [/reducio][b][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=7503&start=10#:~:text=or%20other%20effects.-,Fearless,-You%20do%20not]Fearless[/url][/b] — [i]Fear effects such as a dhampir's aura, terrible presence, a werewolf's intimidation or certain spells and potions that would normally cause a fear effect do not work on you.[/i] [reducio][center]────── R A T I O N A L E ──────[/center] It hadn't been the easiest of years. As much as Greta had felt a sense of release after severing her bond with Hanzo in order to strike out to be her own person... well... it meant that she had to be her own person. Shadows seemed darker and whispers of sound more ominous when there wasn't someone behind whom she could immediately seek safe haven. Safety had been gained in many ways among her new family. It was hard not to feel well protected when a half-score of boys loomed overhead to leer at anyone who happened to look in her direction the wrong way. But they weren't always around. What was more, it was sometimes the case that she would have to make a stand for herself against [i]them[/i], something for which she would never have managed the courage at first. Over time, however, she grew accustomed to their habits and tendencies, and how those with the most intimidating exteriors had the softest hearts. Really, it was impossible [i]not[/i] to grow accustomed. Not when Yefim and Mikael seemed to carry with them an aura deeper than any hag or giant. They had never been anything but kind to Greta, and yet she had never quite been able to shake the sense of unease that gripped at her whenever she found herself in their presence. As if any second the slightest insult could trigger...[i]something[/i]. She was just grateful it was never really directed at [i]her[/i]. Usually, anyway. But then there was the boot camp over summer. The gathering of the Durmstrang team in preparation for the Hexwizard events had been something she couldn't ever possibly have been prepared for. Nevermind pushing them past their limits in training and concentration, Yefim had employed unorthodox tactics to deliberately scare them and test their resolve. More than once, Greta had been reduced to tears. There were times she had been able to power through it, to hold her composure enough to complete whatever trial had been laid before them. Frequently, however, that was not the case. She wasn't like them. There was good reason they felt the need to protect her. As capable and deadly as she could be, it came at the cost of fragility, both of body and mind. The only time she ever felt any sort of fearless, reckless abandon was when she was in flight, naught but a broom below her. The sky was her domain, and in it, she felt untouchable. As soon as her feet hit the ground, however, it was another story entirely. And she hated it. She could feel the weakness and the way it held the others back. If they were constantly looking over their shoulders to reassure her, how were they ever supposed to be able to tackle the challenges laid before them? Every day that passed with another jolt to her heart from this student or that situation was another gouge to her confidence, but she was the only one that could do anything about it. Yefim had put the gears in motion that summer, and so Greta carried the torch into the year. For the duration of their stay at Hogwarts and once they had returned home again, she sought—and at times created—opportunities to test her will, to push herself to the limit. Navigating in darkness.. practicing trick maneuvers in the air at heights she might have shied away from previously.. interjecting herself into social situations.. exploring the castle dungeons.. Little by little, the flutters and muscle tensions were more easily abated. It was never truly gone, of course, and now and then it would catch her unawares and unprepared. But for the most part, she no longer let her fear hold her back. If anything, she had learned to let that feeling fuel her into action. [quote][center][b]Word Count: [/b]642[/center][/quote] [/reducio][b][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=7503&start=10#:~:text=through%20personal%20research.-,Lovely%20Creature,-You%20are%20so]Lovely Creature[/url][/b] — [i]You are very distracting to look at. This increases the DC of spells in duels and adventures by +2 as well as the DC for finding things in adventures or the DC for finding the snitch in Quidditch.[/i] [reducio][center]────── R A T I O N A L E ──────[/center] Greta had always been a rather unassuming individual. Pureblood parents had always insisted on strict adherence to what they dictated as acceptable behaviour. While her brother was praised for bold action and carving his own path, the same could not be said for the younger of the siblings. Hanzo had never expressed any intention of carrying on the family wandcrafting business, and so that responsibility was placed upon Greta's shoulders. Moreover, given their heritage, it was understood that her parents would one day establish an appropriate matrimonial match for her, if she did not provide an acceptable candidate herself. Sooner, rather than later. To these ends, she was monitored very carefully. Her parents dictated the classes she could take, the extracurriculars in which she could participate. They instructed her on proper decorum, how to dress, the ways to present and carry herself. Her diet was regulated; her appearance polished. All in the name of good breeding. Not that it ever really seemed to amount to much. Although bubbly and exuberant as a young child, the pressure of expectation and rigid lifestyle had left Greta meek and timid. Without room to spread her wings, she had cowed, bent, in the regime of her parents. Whether intentional or not, however, this only seemed to add to the appeal she seemed to exude. Through her brother's friends, quidditch, duelling, and her time on Durmstrang's hexwizard team, Greta managed to effortlessly, and quite accidentally, gather a group of those whom she would consider brothers (and the odd sister). The foil to their bulwarks, she retained a delicate character cherished by those surrounding her. Bright smiles came frequently and easily; large doe-eyes sparkled frequently with adventurous innocence; and her persona and wardrobe highlighted a femininity uncommon to the stereotypically dour Durmstrang throngs. She may not have been particularly pleasing to the eye, nor entrancing in her speech. No blood of a veela flowed through her veins to grant her an exceptionally charming appearance. Nevertheless, those who called her their sister would ever insist that hers was a beauty that was not at all skin deep, but rather a presence that could leaven a moment, bringing relief of light to even the darkest hours. And puberty... it could be a blessing or a curse. But for Greta, she was gifted with the former. Baby fat had gradually faded, her round face slimming to a delicate heart and eyes appearing larger by relativity. The yellow of her straw-coloured hair had faded to a matured ash-blonde, cheeks rouging naturally. Thanks to the interventions of her mother, her teeth were straight and white. And her figure had shifted from that of a twiggish girl, to an athletic young woman. Overall, she had become quite pretty, every image the valkyrie after which she had been monikered. [quote][center][b]Word Count: [/b]642[/center][/quote] [/reducio][b][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=7503&start=10#:~:text=any%20prerequisites%20listed.-,Restricted%20Transfiguration,-Due%20to%20your]Restricted Transfiguration[/url][/b] — [i]Due to your academic successes and efforts, you have been admitted among the academic elite in your school. You have decided to pursue forbidden lore in the library. Thanks to your access and your skill you now have access to some additional spells.[/i] [reducio][center]────── R A T I O N A L E ──────[/center] It had all started with a simple, silly, honestly-rather-ridiculous moment of frustration. When the time had come for Hogwarts' Spring Ball just this past year, Greta had gone all out in her effort to make matching outfits for herself and her boyfriend, [mention]Felix Kolbeck[/mention], to match the ethereal whismy of the theme--a lunar moth and death-head moth, respectively--complete with wings (or cape in Felix's case), attire, and mothy antennae head-pieces. Tragically, her boyfriend's carefully crafted accessory had landed itself in the lake somehow, leaving it entirely destroyed and absolutely unwearable. If only she'd had enough time, she could have crafted him a replacement. Alternatively, if [i]only she knew how to summon the prototype that she had left at home in Norway, sitting [b]right there[/b] in the middle of her destressed white birch desk[/i] she could have simply waved her wand and had a replacement for him in a matter of seconds. That seed, planted firmly in her mind, had bloomed over the course of that visit. With all the switching spells and various means of summoning animals and effects out of seemingly thin air, [i]surely[/i] there must be a way to summon one's own belongings from a known location. How useful that would be! Gone would be the days of packing anxiety, worrying about whether she had brought everything she might possibly need for one trip or another. No longer would she have to leave the home with a rain coat [i]just in case[/i], only for the sky to fail to let loose a single drop of rain despite a heavy blanket of ominous dark clouds. Never again would she have to forego whittling a wand because she didn't have her crafting tools on hand in that exact moment when creative inspiration happened to strike. And so she had set herself a bit of self-assigned research in an effort to hunt down such practical arcane knowledge. The result was several days spent lounging in the Hogwarts Restricted Section, secret understanding unlocking in leaps and bounds as she fell more and more deeply into the revelations of the more abstract and contentious applications of Transfiguration. And then weeks in the depths of Durmstrang's library as she followed up on those spells and areas of research that had had found particularly interesting. Like the answer to the question that had sent here there in the first place. In truth, there were some of the spells that she really couldn't understand why they were restricted from the general student population the way they were. Others, though, were definitely on the more nefarious side. Or, such as the case with the ability to transfigure objects into small DRAGONS, could easily go awry in the wrong hands. That wasn't going to stop her from learning how to cast it, though. Lips had curled into an impish grin almost immediately at the thought of tormenting [mention]Boram Barisova[/mention] and [mention]Arno Dorian[/mention]. Perhaps it could even be harnessed for some good old-fashioned Quidditch exercises. What better motivation to learn more advanced broom maneuvering than to avoid tiny painful fireballs. Yes. Now that she had cracked open this particular forbidden fruit, she wouldn't hesitate to gorge herself. [quote][center][b]Word Count: [/b]531[/center][/quote] [/reducio][/quote]
Ability applications
Link to your encyclopedia thread: HERE
School Year or Adult Level: 7th
Stat Changes: (Stamina +2, Evasion +1, Wisdom +1, ArcPower +1)
New Stats
★ Stamina:17
☆ Evasion: 10
☆ Strength: 9
★ Wisdom: 11
★ Arcane Power: 9
☆ Accuracy: 10
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Wandless Magic
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): As far as his memories stretch, Dylan's wand had been by far the most reliable presence in his life. It was polished oak, thirteen inches long, and powered by a feather from the tail of a phoenix enchanted. He had been using it since that fateful day at Hogwarts-in the same way, however wobbly, as he had called forth his palescent first Lumos. By the time he had used each wand to cast Protego Totalum in the seventh year, he could see the beauty in each and every spell he had used through it's channel of his carved wood. Using magic had come naturally to him, but he always felt it was tethered to the querulous feel of a wand at his fingertips.
Dylan took note of a difference that night.
He was on the peaceful countryside visiting his grandmother, whom, while a witch in her advanced age and wisdom, was considered the few that actually made good decisions. She didn't follow constructionist magical theory like his professors at school, believing instead of being exact it was about connection. ""A wand," she whispered to him one night in a poignant circle of lighted lanterns, "is a guide-not a prison. The magic comes from you Dylan, not the thin piece of stick in your hand."
He chuckled politely, considering it one of his grandmother's quirky sayings. However, an accident later in the week would make him put it to the test.
It was in the orchard where everything happened. A gusty wind was tearing through the trees causing the ladder to sway. Dylan in an instant remembered facing the loaded wand at the back of the kitchen. Levitate! His mind screamed to him. His arm was rising to his rescue. His arm flicked without any command verbalized; without flick-and-swish, the ladder sat still while she sat down and was lowered to the ground safely.
Everything seemed weird, for what seemed like long moments, while his hand had inexplicably started going pitter pat against his chest: he had done magic without a wand or verbalized spell. The only thing he relied on was sheer willpower.
For the rest of the summer unwittingly became his gym. There were successes and failures, which were mostly ludicrous. A flick of thought from his mind would light a candle, at least sometimes. Though the flicker would blow out and die in a faint hurry.
He could always push away a light object made of petrified air, but the heavies were painful fokl and frustrating: it was like an exercise of strength from underground, of hitting a wall. Grandma was always saying, "feel it-not fight it." Three things were always important for wandless: focus, emotional clarity, and absolute intent. Nothing worse than too much frustration bc then it fizzled, too much fear and it had a mind of its own.
The more Dylan practiced, the more he began to realize that wandless magic was not faster than a wand, rather it was more intimate. When he reached out with his magic from a distance, it was as if he was touching the object. He felt the faint hum of enchantment from the quill before he ever pushed it. He felt the intensely hot sensation of the flame before he even lit up the fire. Something too tiring about that, but totally exhilarating.
By September that year, Dylan was able to pull off a few spells wandless: an impatient Accio for small items, a reflexive palm Lumos, and faintly cast Protego as a safety. He never flaunted it and kept it on the down-low. If a professor got word of it, they would pelt him with all manner of inquiries over it or insist he had to do. Minutes of lessons with "supervision" which was purely not what Dylan wanted. He wanted to detach himself from the ability, as a purely personal thing; a skill developed by his will, insistence, not training.
So, upon reflection, Dylan will say the wandless magic method was more than simply a new method, it changed how he viewed himself. He no longer tethered himself to a piece of wood; his magic was his, flowing through him like a breath — present though unseen. He also understood that he would need years to truly master it — maybe a lifetime. But one thing he was certain of — one truth felt in his bones — A wizard is not defined by the tool they grasp, but by the magic that abides within them.
Code:
Approved
School Year or Adult Level: 7th
Stat Changes: (Stamina +2, Evasion +1, Wisdom +1, ArcPower +1)
New Stats
★ Stamina:17
☆ Evasion: 10
☆ Strength: 9
★ Wisdom: 11
★ Arcane Power: 9
☆ Accuracy: 10
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Wandless Magic
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): As far as his memories stretch, Dylan's wand had been by far the most reliable presence in his life. It was polished oak, thirteen inches long, and powered by a feather from the tail of a phoenix enchanted. He had been using it since that fateful day at Hogwarts-in the same way, however wobbly, as he had called forth his palescent first Lumos. By the time he had used each wand to cast Protego Totalum in the seventh year, he could see the beauty in each and every spell he had used through it's channel of his carved wood. Using magic had come naturally to him, but he always felt it was tethered to the querulous feel of a wand at his fingertips.
Dylan took note of a difference that night.
He was on the peaceful countryside visiting his grandmother, whom, while a witch in her advanced age and wisdom, was considered the few that actually made good decisions. She didn't follow constructionist magical theory like his professors at school, believing instead of being exact it was about connection. ""A wand," she whispered to him one night in a poignant circle of lighted lanterns, "is a guide-not a prison. The magic comes from you Dylan, not the thin piece of stick in your hand."
He chuckled politely, considering it one of his grandmother's quirky sayings. However, an accident later in the week would make him put it to the test.
It was in the orchard where everything happened. A gusty wind was tearing through the trees causing the ladder to sway. Dylan in an instant remembered facing the loaded wand at the back of the kitchen. Levitate! His mind screamed to him. His arm was rising to his rescue. His arm flicked without any command verbalized; without flick-and-swish, the ladder sat still while she sat down and was lowered to the ground safely.
Everything seemed weird, for what seemed like long moments, while his hand had inexplicably started going pitter pat against his chest: he had done magic without a wand or verbalized spell. The only thing he relied on was sheer willpower.
For the rest of the summer unwittingly became his gym. There were successes and failures, which were mostly ludicrous. A flick of thought from his mind would light a candle, at least sometimes. Though the flicker would blow out and die in a faint hurry.
He could always push away a light object made of petrified air, but the heavies were painful fokl and frustrating: it was like an exercise of strength from underground, of hitting a wall. Grandma was always saying, "feel it-not fight it." Three things were always important for wandless: focus, emotional clarity, and absolute intent. Nothing worse than too much frustration bc then it fizzled, too much fear and it had a mind of its own.
The more Dylan practiced, the more he began to realize that wandless magic was not faster than a wand, rather it was more intimate. When he reached out with his magic from a distance, it was as if he was touching the object. He felt the faint hum of enchantment from the quill before he ever pushed it. He felt the intensely hot sensation of the flame before he even lit up the fire. Something too tiring about that, but totally exhilarating.
By September that year, Dylan was able to pull off a few spells wandless: an impatient Accio for small items, a reflexive palm Lumos, and faintly cast Protego as a safety. He never flaunted it and kept it on the down-low. If a professor got word of it, they would pelt him with all manner of inquiries over it or insist he had to do. Minutes of lessons with "supervision" which was purely not what Dylan wanted. He wanted to detach himself from the ability, as a purely personal thing; a skill developed by his will, insistence, not training.
So, upon reflection, Dylan will say the wandless magic method was more than simply a new method, it changed how he viewed himself. He no longer tethered himself to a piece of wood; his magic was his, flowing through him like a breath — present though unseen. He also understood that he would need years to truly master it — maybe a lifetime. But one thing he was certain of — one truth felt in his bones — A wizard is not defined by the tool they grasp, but by the magic that abides within them.
Code:
Code: Select all
[center][size=150] ╔═══════════╗[/size]
[size=100][b]★ [u]Wandless Magic:[/u]
(750Words)[/b][/size]
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[reducio]As far as his memories stretch, Dylan's wand had been by far the most reliable presence in his life. It was polished oak, thirteen inches long, and powered by a feather from the tail of a phoenix enchanted. He had been using it since that fateful day at Hogwarts-in the same way, however wobbly, as he had called forth his palescent first Lumos. By the time he had used each wand to cast Protego Totalum in the seventh year, he could see the beauty in each and every spell he had used through it's channel of his carved wood. Using magic had come naturally to him, but he always felt it was tethered to the querulous feel of a wand at his fingertips.
Dylan took note of a difference that night.
He was on the peaceful countryside visiting his grandmother, whom, while a witch in her advanced age and wisdom, was considered the few that actually made good decisions. She didn't follow constructionist magical theory like his professors at school, believing instead of being exact it was about connection. [i][b]"A wand," [/b][/i] she whispered to him one night in a poignant circle of lighted lanterns, [i][b]"is a guide-not a prison. The magic comes from you Dylan, not the thin piece of stick in your hand."[/b][/i]
He chuckled politely, considering it one of his grandmother's quirky sayings. However, an accident later in the week would make him put it to the test.
It was in the orchard where everything happened. A gusty wind was tearing through the trees causing the ladder to sway. Dylan in an instant remembered facing the loaded wand at the back of the kitchen. Levitate! His mind screamed to him. His arm was rising to his rescue. His arm flicked without any command verbalized; without flick-and-swish, the ladder sat still while she sat down and was lowered to the ground safely.
Everything seemed weird, for what seemed like long moments, while his hand had inexplicably started going pitter pat against his chest: he had done magic without a wand or verbalized spell. The only thing he relied on was sheer willpower.
For the rest of the summer unwittingly became his gym. There were successes and failures, which were mostly ludicrous. A flick of thought from his mind would light a candle, at least sometimes. Though the flicker would blow out and die in a faint hurry.
He could always push away a light object made of petrified air, but the heavies were painful fokl and frustrating: it was like an exercise of strength from underground, of hitting a wall. Grandma was always saying, "feel it-not fight it." Three things were always important for wandless: focus, emotional clarity, and absolute intent. Nothing worse than too much frustration bc then it fizzled, too much fear and it had a mind of its own.
The more Dylan practiced, the more he began to realize that wandless magic was not faster than a wand, rather it was more intimate. When he reached out with his magic from a distance, it was as if he was touching the object. He felt the faint hum of enchantment from the quill before he ever pushed it. He felt the intensely hot sensation of the flame before he even lit up the fire. Something too tiring about that, but totally exhilarating.
By September that year, Dylan was able to pull off a few spells wandless: an impatient Accio for small items, a reflexive palm Lumos, and faintly cast Protego as a safety. He never flaunted it and kept it on the down-low. If a professor got word of it, they would pelt him with all manner of inquiries over it or insist he had to do. Minutes of lessons with "supervision" which was purely not what Dylan wanted. He wanted to detach himself from the ability, as a purely personal thing; a skill developed by his will, insistence, not training.
So, upon reflection, Dylan will say the wandless magic method was more than simply a new method, it changed how he viewed himself. He no longer tethered himself to a piece of wood; his magic was his, flowing through him like a breath — present though unseen. He also understood that he would need years to truly master it — maybe a lifetime. But one thing he was certain of — one truth felt in his bones — A wizard is not defined by the tool they grasp, but by the magic that abides within them.[/reducio]
Ability applications
Link to your encyclopedia thread: viewtopic.php?f=169&t=32957
School Year or Adult Level: Third
Stat Changes: Sta: 8 | Eva: 10 | Str: 6 | Wis: 5 | Arc: 2 | Acc: 10
Sta: 10 | Eva: 10 | Str: 8 | Wis: 6 | Arc: 3 | Acc: 10
(5 from graduation, 1 from race won: viewtopic.php?t=39960&start=20#p1331440)
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Rapid Reviver
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): On the 31st of October, Hans felt deeply angered at his own helplessness. He should have done more when Nikolai Vol’ka went missing, should have searched for him or engaged more with the staff investigating. The only way he could have tried to make up for the lack of action was when he returned, wounds covering his body in a horror show, barely able to stay conscious as he faded in and out of wakefulness. In one particular case, in danger of choking, the combined force of Professor Albrecht’s anapneo and Hans’ renervate had brought him back to safety — or at least however safe he could be.
Perhaps the spell had succeeded on pure insistence, for Hans knew he could not have afforded to fail then, perhaps it was something else entirely. The power of love was a trite thing to believe in. As much as he loved Nikolai its sheer existence could not have possibly been enough to pull a person back to life. Yet it was inexplicable, for his mediocre spell certainly could not have been enough to revive him from unconsciousness of his degree. No, there must have been some sort of supplement, and somehow, on the edge of luck, it had worked.
Hans had been brought up in an environment influenced by the healing arts. First aid was taught as he had been taught how to ride a bicycle, the Heimlich manoeuvre, the recovery position, CPR. Over time and through disuse the specifics were forgotten, but there was something that must have ran far deeper than that. The desire to fix, and help, and save was one rooted into his blood, almost a power he could channel on from his very DNA, and imbue into his own hands as his best friend laid unresponsive. There was nothing his father could do that he couldn’t.
It would sound unlike himself to find a drawing towards medicine. A tedious job with years of med school, and if not, training as a healer, it robbed him of more time he could have spent with his father despite the steady income it brought. He had always regarded his parents’ jobs as dull; why not be an F1 racer or a professional Quidditch player? Yet as November rolled in he found himself checking out a book detailing the basics of medical stabilisations and aid from a magical perspective. As soon as he could he found himself focusing on healing spells and potions. If he, with his family so closely tied to medicine, couldn’t even help save a brother’s life, what kind of brother was he?
For now, it was almost subconscious, as if his fate had been written into the stars already and as they churned in their rotations, dropped foreshadowing on his path.
Approved
School Year or Adult Level: Third
Stat Changes: Sta: 8 | Eva: 10 | Str: 6 | Wis: 5 | Arc: 2 | Acc: 10
Sta: 10 | Eva: 10 | Str: 8 | Wis: 6 | Arc: 3 | Acc: 10
(5 from graduation, 1 from race won: viewtopic.php?t=39960&start=20#p1331440)
Name of Ability that you Are Applying for: Rapid Reviver
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): On the 31st of October, Hans felt deeply angered at his own helplessness. He should have done more when Nikolai Vol’ka went missing, should have searched for him or engaged more with the staff investigating. The only way he could have tried to make up for the lack of action was when he returned, wounds covering his body in a horror show, barely able to stay conscious as he faded in and out of wakefulness. In one particular case, in danger of choking, the combined force of Professor Albrecht’s anapneo and Hans’ renervate had brought him back to safety — or at least however safe he could be.
Perhaps the spell had succeeded on pure insistence, for Hans knew he could not have afforded to fail then, perhaps it was something else entirely. The power of love was a trite thing to believe in. As much as he loved Nikolai its sheer existence could not have possibly been enough to pull a person back to life. Yet it was inexplicable, for his mediocre spell certainly could not have been enough to revive him from unconsciousness of his degree. No, there must have been some sort of supplement, and somehow, on the edge of luck, it had worked.
Hans had been brought up in an environment influenced by the healing arts. First aid was taught as he had been taught how to ride a bicycle, the Heimlich manoeuvre, the recovery position, CPR. Over time and through disuse the specifics were forgotten, but there was something that must have ran far deeper than that. The desire to fix, and help, and save was one rooted into his blood, almost a power he could channel on from his very DNA, and imbue into his own hands as his best friend laid unresponsive. There was nothing his father could do that he couldn’t.
It would sound unlike himself to find a drawing towards medicine. A tedious job with years of med school, and if not, training as a healer, it robbed him of more time he could have spent with his father despite the steady income it brought. He had always regarded his parents’ jobs as dull; why not be an F1 racer or a professional Quidditch player? Yet as November rolled in he found himself checking out a book detailing the basics of medical stabilisations and aid from a magical perspective. As soon as he could he found himself focusing on healing spells and potions. If he, with his family so closely tied to medicine, couldn’t even help save a brother’s life, what kind of brother was he?
For now, it was almost subconscious, as if his fate had been written into the stars already and as they churned in their rotations, dropped foreshadowing on his path.
Reducio
Code: Select all
[center][quote][b]TRUNK[/b]
They try to tell us we don’t belong, that’s alright we’re millions strong. [/quote][/center][quote]Sta: 10 | Eva: 10 | Str: 8 | Wis: 6 | Arc: 3 | Acc: 10| Broom Racer
Sports wins: [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=1096457#p1096458]x[/url], [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=1331440#p1331440]x[/url]
[right]01. Fearless[/right][reducio][justify]If Hans Jenssen was a wolf, he would have been drunk on the scent of fear.
It had always clung to the family - mostly with subtlety, though sometimes more pungent than others – like how moist moss clung to rocks. Greta Jenssen, under maternal pressure, climate of opinion, and Durmstrang’s Dark Arts curriculum, came to truly understand the treachery of magic, through certain unsightly scenes she had experienced at the Institute. Combined with the traditional beliefs of devoted Christian Klaus Jenssen, the situation eventually aggravated to the point where they had become fearful of their own son, sending him to Durmstrang out of disease at his abilities. It was disgusting. It was pathetic. It was shameful.
It was all the motivation Hans required to be nothing like his predecessors. Ever since Hans’ accidental instances of magic became particularly noticeable to his parents, at around the age of ten, he had been told to dampen his powers, to stay wary of himself, to never allow emotions to get the better of him and for his magic to lose control, to fear himself. Of course, that was exactly what he did not. Hans saw fear as the weakness that held back her mother’s (once a successful witch) true potential and would only hold him back from what he could achieve. Fear was a wild land of doubts that required conquering and taming, so taming was what he would do. He would not heed to it, rather, he would make fear heed to him.
Reckless, they had called Hans, always the one to climb the highest tree (even when it seemed as if it could not support his weight), seek out the steepest route on a climb (even when the rocks seemed loose), dip into the deepest waters (even when the currents looked slightly too treacherous). He talked back to teachers, which only seemed to escalate any trouble he was in, disagreed with coaches, despite their strategies being flawless, and most importantly, disobeyed his parents, reading any texts he could get his hands on magic, fiction or not, all without a second thought or a droplet of fear about the following consequences. Yet like anything, fearlessness was a double-sided coin and to Otto Hoffman, Hans’ maternal grandfather, a quality, especially after he had witnessed the downfall of his own daughter. What started as courage was nurtured into a dare-devil nature, yet Otto withheld the belief that with his careful honing, it can become Hans strongest trait.
Perhaps, it did, but it also became one of his weakest. For he was not truly fearless. He was phobophobic, afraid of fear itself. How ironic.[/justify][/reducio][right]02. Charmer[/right][reducio][justify]It might seem to the casual eye that despite being from a magic-intolerant half-blood family, Hans Jenssen had every opportunity in front of him.
He seemed to be the main character of his custom-tailored chronicle, a spotlight following him as it does the lead singer, from the way he kept his eye contact, his head high, his posture straight yet relaxed, his clear articulation. He took easy initiative without much thought, able to rally all audience members with a chef's salad of humour, persuasion, passion, and casual, comfortable, confidence. He knows how to drive a point home and knows how to do it in a way so others would be behind him. As former team captain of his school's football team, leadership seems almost like second nature, something he almost derives strength from.
Hans has a certain composure to him that he almost never loses, an obviously positive yet seemingly careless nature. With friends and positive acquaintances, Hans feels like a ball of sunshine and positivity, all smiles, easy laughs, and radiations of enthusiasm. Such an upbeat aura draws others in with interest and causes them to want to spend time with the boy. He is actively assertive and outgoing, never against associating himself with new people as long as they share fairly similar values or interests. Once such associate have become those he could call friends, he is especially caring and loyal, trait that would only go on to draw in more people to befriend him.
However, perhaps do to his young age, he never takes anything quite that seriously, a flaw, certainly, yet exuding a peculiar innocent charm, especially popular among his classmates back in elementary school. This nature entailed a lighthearted and jovial outlook with a particularly nonchalant nature that was almost rarely seen in Durmstrang's prestigious and uptight environment. While Hans would argue that the academy required some relaxation from time to time, he also knows when to halt. Fun, games, and jests are certainly alright, but with professors, it always had to stop at a certain point for his grades to begin. He presents himself as eager to learn magic (which he is, due to not having been exposed to it for most of his life) yet not as a "teacher's pet" if one would. This did wonders at earning him respect in a condition where the powerful and successful were valued above others. Finding a balance seemed essential, as being too respected often led to intimidation, he found, as well as a much colder reputation than he desired.
What is charming? One might enquire such. If it had anything related to popularity and pleasantry with masses, then Hans was fairly quite the master.[/justify][/reducio][right]03. Rapid Revivor[/right][reducio][justify]On the 31st of October, Hans felt deeply angered at his own helplessness. He should have done more when Nikolai Vol’ka went missing, should have searched for him or engaged more with the staff investigating. The only way he could have tried to make up for the lack of action was when he returned, wounds covering his body in a horror show, barely able to stay conscious as he faded in and out of wakefulness. In one particular case, in danger of choking, the combined force of Professor Albrecht’s anapneo and Hans’ renervate had brought him back to safety — or at least however safe he could be.
Perhaps the spell had succeeded on pure insistence, for Hans knew he could not have afforded to fail then, perhaps it was something else entirely. The power of love was a trite thing to believe in. As much as he loved Nikolai its sheer existence could not have possibly been enough to pull a person back to life. Yet it was inexplicable, for his mediocre spell certainly could not have been enough to revive him from unconsciousness of his degree. No, there must have been some sort of supplement, and somehow, on the edge of luck, it had worked.
Hans had been brought up in an environment influenced by the healing arts. First aid was taught as he had been taught how to ride a bicycle, the Heimlich manoeuvre, the recovery position, CPR. Over time and through disuse the specifics were forgotten, but there was something that must have ran far deeper than that. The desire to fix, and help, and save was one rooted into his blood, almost a power he could channel on from his very DNA, and imbue into his own hands as his best friend laid unresponsive. There was nothing his father could do that he couldn’t.
It would sound unlike himself to find a drawing towards medicine. A tedious job with years of med school, and if not, training as a healer, it robbed him of more time he could have spent with his father despite the steady income it brought. He had always regarded his parents’ jobs as dull; why not be an F1 racer or a professional Quidditch player? Yet as November rolled in he found himself checking out a book detailing the basics of medical stabilisations and aid from a magical perspective. As soon as he could he found himself focusing on healing spells and potions. If he, with his family so closely tied to medicine, couldn’t even help save a brother’s life, what kind of brother was he?
For now, it was almost subconscious, as if his fate had been written into the stars already and as they churned in their rotations, dropped foreshadowing on his path.[/justify][/reducio][/quote]Approved
you will burn and you will burn out; you will be healed and come back again. and i will wait for you.
Archer Duncan | Anthonie Engelbrecht
Archer Duncan | Anthonie Engelbrecht