NPC Name: Maximilien “Maxi” de Fostoncy
Link: here
Year: third
Extracurricular: none > broom racer
Content Changes: changing the description slightly in the first few paragraphs in “the family” section (provided contents below). Will do the edit in the ency as soon as approval.

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The de Fostoncy family - who resided in Lyon, France - was a pureblood family of French origins and with rich history. Able to be backdated to the 17th century, the family lived in a wine estate which they named the Château de Fostoncy, and gained a profit by selling wines.

They were against the muggles. Muggleborns and half-bloods were really not a choice for the de Fostoncy family. French origin, and pureblood, that were things that they valued most. They were exceedingly proud of themselves, especially the “de” in the family last name - “It shows history.” said Louis de Fostoncy, the current head of this honorable family. His sister Karen - who was married to an English wizard named Herbert Springhall [Lindsey’s grandfather] against their parents’ will - was not so positive regarding the pureblood pride, though Louis still loved her dearly and even helped her with persuading their parents for her to marry Herbert.

However, Louis’s marriage was not that fortunate like his sister’s, the latter lived on with her husband and children happy enough. Like any other heirs of noble families, Louis married his arranged wife, a beautiful young lady from another notable pureblood family in France. Their marriage was a happy one, but this came to an end when Louis’s wife passed away when giving birth to their only son Vincent, whom she named after her own father. Not much was known of her, as this lady, the young Madame de Fostoncy back in those days, was the least person that Louis wished to mention - he loved her deeply, and he couldn’t afford the loss of her. And Vince, as what she had always called yonder tenderly when she was alive and pregnant, grew up motherless.

Vincent’s life was just like his father’s. Accepted into Beauxbatons, graduated as a straight O student, got married with a woman that he had never met properly before eighteen - he went on the same path as Louis’s. Only, he was all alone, without a tender mother or a loving sister. And as a result, he became a solitary and unsociable person. His gorgeous wife, Mélanie Janvaque, was adored by many people at that time, and Vincent was regarded as extremely lucky. They were a loving couple to others, with wealth and youth - really, how could you ask for more?

Only Mélanie herself knew how unhappy she was. Vincent had formed a careless personality, self entered and not caring for anyone else. She had hardly smiled after marrying into the de Fostoncy family. The life was dull, and Louis was extremely strict to his daughter in law. “Take care of Madame.” Everybody said so. Mélanie, the wavy haired woman knew that she did not need to be taken care of like a little baby - she just needed some time alone. Some time that she could express herself freely. She had given up her long loved drawing career, as well as music - she was quite a good singer in her youth. But, really, a painter or a musician? No, the young Madame de Fostoncy was not expected to become either of these two. Instead, she was expected to bring a heir to the family.

And, to everyone’s delight, she did.

Trunk Coding: it’s below!

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Code: Select all

[quote][quote][center][size=150][b]TRUNK[/b][/size][/center][/quote]
[quote][center][size=115][b]| stats |[/b][/size]
[b]sta[/b] 7 · [b]eva[/b] 8 · [b]wis[/b] 11 · [b]str[/b] 2 · [b]arc[/b] 7 · [b]acc[/b] 11
[size=95]46/45 [+1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=40&t=13594&hilit=&start=50#p215087]quidditch win[/url]][/size][/center][/quote]
[quote][center][size=115][b]| abilities |[/b][/size][/center][color=transparent]—[/color][b]year 1.[/b] lovely creature
[reducio][size=95]At the time Maximilien was born, he was considered handsome. It was not really a surprise, though, since his parents were all extremely good looking. Mélanie Janvaque was one of the most gorgeous girls in class in her school days, and Vincent de Fostoncy was secretly had a crush on by many students. Honestly speaking, no one in the family wasn’t good looking — from Louis to Maximilien.

Successfully inherited his mother’s eye color and hair color, the boy was fairly good looking. He had good the straight nose of the de Fostoncy family, and thin, pink lips. His eyelashes were long, and were of brown color. His mother regarded him as a doll when he was sleeping. Actually, even if the boy’s awake, he was like a gorgeous statue.

When walking on the streets in Lyon, Maximilien was looked attentively by many strangers. They stopped when he and his father passed by, and pointed at them secretly. Sometimes the boy’s ears would catch a few words like “handsome” “good looking” “lovely”. He was young at that time, and did not really take these things seriously. However his father was glad. Glad that someone had praised his son.

Attending fancy balls played a large part in the family. Louis de Fostoncy, the current count, especially loved these kinds of activities. Taking the beautiful Madame de Fostoncy, the handsome Chevalier de Fostoncy, and the young de Fostoncy heir was just extremely agreeable, since whenever and wherever the family of four showed up, they would earn applause and praises. People admired the wealthy family, but especially, envied their beauty. They dragged the young heir near them, and examined him carefully, hoping to point some flaws on his face out. However, they failed. Maximilien was too lovely to find out a flaw. If you had to point something out, you might say that he’s a bit chubby — but he was still a good looking child. The old ladies especially loved this pretty boy. They talked with him for hours, even if the boy got bored. 

By the time he was eleven, Maximilien had became even more handsome. He had mostly grew his chubby cheeks out, became taller, athletic built, and was always dressed in elegant dark colored clothes. The boy was still admired and envied by many others, and the future count of the de Fostoncy family was highly estimated. 

Without a doubt, Maximilien de Fostoncy was always a lovely creature.

WC | 405[/size][/reducio][color=transparent]—[/color][b]year 2.[/b] perfectionist
[reducio][size=95]Growing up, Maximilien had always been a perfectionist. Being stubborn, he wanted everything to be the best — which he would not regret afterwards.

From the age of four, his grandfather forced him to stay inside the house and study spells and potions for the whole morning. His father was his mentor — and to his surprise, Maximilien did everything extremely well. One day Monsieur le Chevalier taught him a difficult potion, and within hours, Maximilien could revise the recipe correctly. Vincent was surprised. But what he did not know is, after he had gave the book to the young Maximilien and left, the boy copied the recipe for seven times. It was really long, but he still did it.

Upon the time he was accepted into Beauxbatons, Maximilien was hard working student. He loved Charms and Potions, as well as Defense Against the Dark Arts. Most of his classmates had seen this boy working alone late at night in his dormitory, and many of them had seen him practicing spells in an empty classroom. The library was nearly Maximilien’s second home — he did not have many friends, so he visited there a lot during weekends. 

The boy wanted everything to be perfect. He studied hard, did physical exercises everyday, and kept a healthy diet. He was proud and stubborn, so it helped him to be perfect. Day by day, he continued to study in the library and his dorm. And as a result, he improved day by day.

He received seven Os in his examination. His grandfather and father was really glad, but they still lacked knowledge of how hard Maximilien had worked. Most things were perfect — and that’s exactly what Maximilien wanted to see. He was overjoyed to see his academic results, and the boy decided that he would even study harder afterwards. He wanted himself to be the best, though he had never spoken it out loud.

When it’s the summer before his second year, Maximilien spent tons of time reading in the library in the de Fodtoncy Estate. While his grandfather was busy showing off at friends’ houses, his father busy running the wine estate, and his mother busy visiting her own maiden family, Maximilien read, and learnt. He had briefly met his cousins for two days, and all they saw was the boy was reading whenever and wherever. Maximilien loved it, and decided to do everything well. 

His knowledge of spells and potions were extending every moment. It’s no surprise that he had already became a perfectionist — because, Maximilien de Fostoncy was just born as one.

WC | 424[/size][/reducio][color=transparent]—[/color][b]year 3.[/b] spell spread[reducio][size=95]Summer. Summer was always agreeable for Maxi, and especially this one. Monsieur le Comte had accepted the Duke Springhall’s invitation for him staying over for July, and thus Maximilien arrived at the Springhall Heights as soon as his schoolyear ended in Beauxbatons. The Duke welcomed him warmly, and he soon won the old wizard’s favour - who agreed to give him some lessons on duelling.

We would skip the part of how Maxi won this special favour, as even the boy himself was quite ignorant of the reason. Maybe it was because of his fine etiquette, compared to Edmund and Lindsey - or it was simply because that the Duke desperately wished to teach some young wizards the art of combating magic. Maxi knew that Edmund was nowhere near the title of a duellist, and Lindsey was on her house Quidditch team, and the Duke wasn’t very into that - somehow he regarded duelling as “the only sport that’s worth participating”.

But anyways, everything started within a week he arrived. Maximilien began to visit the Duke’s personal studio daily at 10 o’clock in the morning, and showed up as the very last one for tea. Finding his interests in the ancient English books about duelling, Maxi was more than happy to expand his knowledge. He was a perfectionist and wished perfection in everything, after all. Practicing always came after simple reading. It would be countless times every day, when Maxi raised up his wand and uttered the incantation out. The Duke would watch over every single spell he casted at the dummies (the Duke Springhall [i]did[/i] have one or two in his studio), and offered him some help. And then he would teach the young Frenchman some strategies and tactics, the latter found [i]everything[/i] fascinating, including the stern looking old wizard himself.

But no. None of these were as fascinating - as grand as what happened the other day, when he was about to leave in a few days. It was just like every other morning in York, cloudy and a little bit rainy. Facing two dummies and having the old wizard closely watching, Maxi raised his wand up. [color=#586d9d][b]“Flipendo!”[/b][/color] he uttered in perfect English, which made the Duke’s knitted brows smoothed. As what both the old and the young had expected, one line of blue light flashed out directly from the point of Maximilien’s wand. It was [i]perfect[/i]. Not the strongest version nor the most powerful one, but already ideal enough for a thirteen-year-old. Seeing the would almost certainly hit the dummy on the left, the Duke was about to say something, when -

It was all of a sudden, and it was unbelievable. But it was [i]true[/i]. As true as he was named Maximilien René Pascal Jacques Vincent Louis de Fostoncy. The spell split in two and targeted both of the dummies. Both were knocked over, and Maximilien stood there with surprise, wand still raised up in the air. The Duke was just as silent as the boy was, sitting there motionlessly.

[color=#5c5c5c][b]“Nice work, young man.”[/b][/color] the old wizard finally started, nodding approvingly. [color=#5c5c5c][b]“Few wizards can achieve that…only those who are truly talented…”[/b][/color] Lowering his wand and stepping forward to right the knocked-over dummies, Maxi smiled at the old wizard. [color=#586d9d][b]“Thank you, Monsieur le Duc.”[/b][/color] he said softly, while slowly raising his wand up again at the dummies.

He utilized his left days in the Springhall Heights to practice and get tutorials from the Duke - who helped him to learn to control his split spell. Maximilien knew that a grander spell meant a higher chance of failure. So he had to practice hard, like what a true perfectionist would do. Day by day his skills improved. And although backfiring still happened occasionally, he was far more better than what he had done the very first day he when discovered his skill. 

When he packed his things to leave for the Hogwarts Summer Camp on July 31st, it was raining outside. James Kingsleigh, the Duke’s clerk, offered to take him to the York train station, where he could set off for London. Maxi accepted this gratefully, and the two walked together silently in the rain, luggage in hand. James regretted not taking his wand with him, as they would only be able to conjure one umbrella using Maxi’s wand - instead of two, and Maxi shook his head. [color=#586d9d][b]“I believe it’s alright, Mister Kingsleigh.”[/b][/color] he smiled, while reaching for his wand. [color=#586d9d][b]“Pluvia Velo.”[/b][/color] 

James watched the the young French boy conjuring two umbrellas and passing one to him in surprise. However, he remarked nothing. Just a simple, grateful nod, and the two continued their walk in the rain with two umbrellas. No one was going to get wet. The skill was useful - thought Maxi. Indeed.

WC | 798[/size][/reducio][/quote]
[quote][center][size=115][b]| extracurricular |[/b][/size]
broom racer[/center][/quote][/quote]

CHARMER

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Henri knew that only good looks alone did not suffice to get him far into the world, especially not within the competitive and cutthroat Pureblood community. The scramble for the top of the food chain was arduous and the young de Bourbon Heir understood at once that the fastest way to climb the ladder was with the right words and the right attitude.

The ethereal beauty he'd inherited from Mère which made people turn their heads to get a second better look at him served both as a base and an advantage.

Since he'd started his first year at Beauxbatons, Henri had learnt quickly that he should make use of the attention he seized from other at a first glance and put himself out there to communicate with people. After all, being seen as the person to initiate a conversation always proved to be an excellent first impression. Everybody was already enthralled by his practiced handsome smile and as soon as the compliments began tumbling from his lips, they were already wrapped around his finger. Henri always said what people wanted to hear, not what they should be told. He knew how to appeal to a an arrogant man's ego, or to praise a conceited woman's narcissism.

The young French upped his acting even more around professors at L'Académie, always addressing them with a disarming smile accompanied with the utmost respectful behaviour. He never acted out of line and his outstanding grades only served to earn their favour even quicker. With his peers, Henri knew when to offer sympathy and when to offer his trust--even if it was all just an elaborate plan to subtly coerce them into his entourage. He made sure to display himself as someone friendly and extraverted, allowing the other students to have the illusion that he was approachable and trustworthy. Some of them especially adored his flirtatious remarks spoken with a silky purr, and Henri never corrected the gossiping for it was the perfect boost to his charismatic personality.

Even if he was a secretly vain person, Henri always reminded himself to remain as humble as possible without crossing the line of low self-esteem. People naturally appreciated those who knew their places, especially when they believed themselves to be superior than him--whether the silly thought was true or not. It added more to his charm, he mused, and always responded to compliments directed at him with a modest laugh, even though he silently scoffed at their attempt to get in his good graces. Body language was also a weapon Henri had mastered perfectly--a deferential tip of the head when talking to upperclassmen or adults, attentive gazes with witty humour when conversing with his 'friends', carefree gestures to lure others into a sense of security around him.

All in all, Henri had learnt the art of charming deception.

WC: 472

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'It was almost unbelievable that anyone could ever come to genuinely like such a vain woman as Juliette, yet she somehow charmed the Pureblood Heir of the House of Bourbon to fall irrevocably in love with her and leave his at-the-time fiance Annalise de Montfort to marry Juliette instead, without knowing Annalise was already pregnant with a child who would later be born under the name Lucietta Mahler @Everly Charlton in America. People whispered that Juliette de Courcillon had used Amortentia, others rumoured that Guillaume Alphonse de Bourbon was simply infatuated with her otherwordly beauty--all blond hair and shining grey eyes like diamonds. Despite the circulating hearsay, Juliette was married into the House of Bourbon and almost a year after, Henri Charles de Bourbon (Regina's second cousin) was born. He would not meet Lucietta, the illegitimate child of his father, and discover that they were half-siblings until much later in his life.'

PENDING - March 18 Pending the approval of Everly Charlton's iNPC.

Approved updates

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Blaine Fontine

School: Beauxbatons
Year: 1st
Status: Halfblood

History

Appearance

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Blaine is a pretty boy. He has light brown hair that often has that immaculately tousled look to it and bright, piercing blue eyes. Blaine has a mature look for his age, with a sharp bone structure and defined facial features. The boy often dresses in what could be described a preppy fashion, when not in uniform of course. He wears khakis, polos and sweaters most of the time. When it comes to formal wear, Blaine becomes a little more experimental.

Personality

Trunk

Wandmaker (405)

Pending

History concerns:

Reducio

St. Mungos is in the very same city. This is like having a rampaging unicorn and in a panic running to the Potions Professor for help instead of the Care f Magical Creatures Professor. They have medical care that is very nearby. Taking the traveling a week before a delivery date as severe personal incompetence (since you can really "go" at any time) it is questionable at bedside they would forego more effective medical care for delivery and go to a muggle hospital rather than St Mungos down the metaphorical street. The rush was not for a rapid delivery (so the infant was not crowning forcing muggles to take over) because they had to perform a C-section.

This is where things get concerning. A wizard capable of healing. A woman capable of healing. Neither performing healing and then dealing with the consequences because their lives were in danger. The provider chose to allow a student to perform a surgical, emergent procedure. This being done both interpedently and in lieu of an actual provider betraying even the most basic protocols.

Then the infant suffers a laceration from the cesarian. There is the possibility of getting a laceration in less than 1% of cases and they are primarily in the head and back area. Why - because these are areas that might press against the placental wall (that being why a laceration happened). To cut the wrist, where the artery is making the injury relevant the arm would have had to of been unnaturally turned outward to allow this injury to happen and the cut would have had to of been very deep. The sort of injury that happens when you perform a cesarian with a screw driver sharpened on a plane.

This leaves the father with the tragic choice of wife or child - why is the wife's life is in danger?

____

Later in the abilities application you had a mysterious family member that reached out to your character with your mother's wand. Why didn't your mother's family adopt you as they are obviously aware of not only your character's existence but also name and present location.

Ability: approved if the extension of the family member makes sense (see above)
Stats: Wis: 7 \\ Sta: 7 \\ Eva: 4 \\ Acc: 6 \\Str: 1 \\Arc: 5
Not approved: as a human child first year you are entitled to 35 -- you have only 30 stat points assigned.

NPC Name: Raphael Aveline
Link: boop
Year: 3
Stats: +1 to Strength for recent duel win of PC; new stats: Sta 5 ᚐ Eva 15 ᚐ Str 9 ᚐ Wis 5 ᚐ Arc 0 ᚐ Acc 13
Trunk Coding: Just change Str from 8 to 9 please!

Broken Broomshaft
Word count: 417

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Just a regular quidditch practice, they did them often, especially when Milo went around and annoyed everybody into practicing with him. He loved quidditch with every inch of him. Having been playing around on brooms - in protected areas of course - since he was a kid. His Maman loved to fuel his athletic side, which was great of course that she supported his passions but also probably caused him to be a bit more chaotic than if he had persued less.. violent sports.

Either way, he loved it, it was his dream to play for a big league once he graduated, or maybe become like a flying professor or something? It gave him such a rush flying around, adrenaline pumping, it was more fun than anything he had ever done in his entre life. Although sometimes, as a beater, he went a little overboard. Everything seemed fine for a while, the team and the extra strings all mixed up playing against each other.

Sometimes he does let himself go a bit too far. Bashing bludgers at people, he had never really hurt somebody, just knocked them off, somebodies ankle got sprained once because it hit their foot and it went a funky way, thankfully nothing broken. They just had to go to the hospital wing and get it sorted, no worries.

But this time, he did go too far. He hit the bludger with his bat, as always, sent it flying towards one of his friends that was on the "opposing" team in this scenario. And the bludger...hit his broom, not only that, but it snapped into two pieces, shards of wood going everywhere as his friend plummeted towards the ground, hopefully splinterless. Thankfully somebody else on their team caught him pretty quickly but there was two distinct thuds as the two sections of the broom hit the ground below them. That would be quite a hefty Reparo needed for that one.

In the match, they ended up winning! Although Milo was tasked with attempting to repair the broom afterwards to make sure it was actually fixed... since it was his fault that it was broken in the first place. He owed his friend a Bezant as well for the trouble, which he was fine with paying up. At least, Milo felt a weird buzz from the whole ordeal, the fact that he found out he had this ability. He could use this, during other quidditch matches maybe? Against other teams? That would be a lot of fun.

[b]Is your character a Broom Racer?[/b] NO
[b]Is your character a Quidditch Player?[/b] YES
[b]Is your character a Duelist?[/b] NO
[b]Stats:[/b] 
Stamina - 13
Evasion - 12 
Strength - 10
Wisdom - 6 
ArcPower - 9
Accuracy - 13

(+3 from Delilah's duelling wins)
[b]Abilities:[/b]
[quote][quote][b]1: Fearless[/b][reducio]Milo is very clear-headed, if you were to ask what his biggest fear was, he wouldn't be able to answer straight away, the biggest thing he could think of would be his sister ending up with somebody horrible, but that wasn't really a fear, it was more of a concern. There wasn't anything he was [i]scared[/i] of. But of course, it isn't as simple as that. When he was very young, he was scared of everything, he was scared people were going to judge him for having lesbian mothers, he was scared of tiny things, like insects, even butterflies, and sure they still give him the heeby-jeebies, but he was no longer scared of them, after a long time of working on it. It was after his sister was born, and their maman told him he had to look after her, and 4-year-old Milo told his maman that he would do his very best, that this had to change. And over the next 6-7 years, it did change, slowly accustoming himself to all of the things he was scared of.

It took a lot of work, a lot of help from his parents and friends, and a lot of self-control. He learned other skills along the way, but it was something he knew down to his core, if he was scared of anything, he wouldn't be able to look after Clara, and if he wasn't able to look after Clara, well..what was the point in anything? He was her big brother, it was his responsibility. Or at least that's how he had twisted it in his head as a child.

He faced these fears he had, front on, no matter how much it absolutely terrified him, until eventually, he learned to be fearless. Bravery tended to be a natural-born characteristic, but to him, it was a learned ability. Maybe the bravery and fearlessness had been within him all along, and through his work, he just learned to harness it, but he preferred to think of it as all his work, as he was quite proud of it.

That was one thing he never fully understood about himself, why was he like this? why did he take this to such an extreme? Maybe it was just because he was an extremely family-oriented person, or maybe he was just too young to figure it out yet. Whatever it was, he was yet to know.

All he knew is that for now, he wasn't scared of anything, and was ready to face anything.[/reducio]
Word count: 426[/quote]
[quote][b]2: Charmer[/b][reducio]Charming people was Milo's specialty, not only from his grace thanks to his enrolment in Beauxbatons, possibly the most graceful magical school in the world. He seemed to have an entire aura of grace as he walked, some people at his home hated him for this, but when he was in other countries, it tended to get even more attention than when he was at home.

Maybe it was stereotypical, oh hey look, a pretty french flirty boy, but it was his truth, he was a people pleaser. He was a serial romantic, having had a variety of girlfriends and boyfriends by this point, sometimes he wished he could have a long term relationship but that didn't seem to be in the cards for him. His voice was very smooth, like a hot knife going through butter, when he spoke English, it was surprisingly charming despite him not being able to speak it particularly well, his grammar was jumbled and he got words confused sometimes, but it was usually at least somewhat clear from context what he was trying to say. 

While his family were purebloods and didn't care too much about the "hierarchy" of magical bloodlines, they still cared at least somewhat about appearances, he was taught to sit up straight, have good posture, try and make friends wherever possible with his charm, a combination of both natural beauty and taught personality traits. One of his mothers in particular, taught him that first impressions are the most important ones, so to always be charming and graceful, as people will then remember him that way. And that's what he wanted. 

His heart was drawn to anybody, and it seemed as though a lot of peoples were drawn to him. Frequently having people crushing on him, looking at him in the corridors, although even people that didn't fancy him did that, he tended to attract attention. He was beautiful, graceful, did casual broom racing in his spare time against some of his older friends, just for the fun of it of course. Even though these matches were unofficial and just on the grounds of Beauxbatons, people would come to watch them, see him race around the Château. He found pride in being watched by the crowd, he loved it. He tended to have people watching him all of the time, it was peculiar.  If you know that feeling of being watched, he felt that all of the time, to the point that sometimes he felt a bit paranoid of his surroundings, what if all those people watching in adoration were covering up somebody that wanted to hurt him? 

Either way, he tended to have people admire him, whether romantically or just look up to him, and he liked that.[/reducio]
Word count: 458[/quote]
[quote][b]3: Comprehend Languages: Veela[/b][reducio]Different languages and cultures have always interested Milo, spending a lot of his free time studying the subject with assistance from Camille. Knowing more information about different species is always an advantage, and learning a language is always an advantage, Camille always valued education greatly and that came out in Milo and Clara's childhood, his bookshelf in his room stuffed full of books about far off places and their cultures, muggle and magical.

One of the most interesting species to him are the veelas, he always wondered if he was actually some tiny fraction of veela, based on how people look at him, but looking back in his family lines that didn't seem to be the case, just a coincidence. But either way, he found veelas to be very interesting to research, from their different type of magic, to how genetics acts when bred with humans, but overall he absolutely adored their language. It was so lovely sounding, which made sense considering they are known for their beauty.

Learning languages was a passion of his, although rarely did he reach proficiency, French being his only completely fluent language, but being able to speak broken forms of a few different languages. He loved to see how words from some languages are adopted into other ones and how different writing systems worked, but he had an increased interest, and tried to get to a fluent level, or at least close enough that he would be able to understand the majority of conversations or texts in veela.

He knew a few part-veela students at Beauxbatons, being the popular guy that he was, and often he would try to practice by talking to them in veela, the ones that were able to speak it. He found it to be a very lovely language. One of his main friends in Beauxbatons, is a quarter veela, and learned the language from their veela grandma, so they spoke together in that language to practice when they could.

Knowledge has always been seen in their household as a virtue, studying history, culture, religions, and Milo wished to be a teacher when he graduates from Beauxbatons, he found learning to be very fun, giving him a sense of freedom from knowing more than he did before, expanding what he knows. The fact that full veela can only be female, their history in Europe and Russia, their music, their magic and abilities. Just some of the things that gave Milo such a love for studying them and their language and culture. [/reducio]
Word count: 421[/quote]
[quote][b]4: Lovely Creature[/b][reducio]It was no understatement that Milo was generally, a very attractive person, having the gorgeous genetics of one of his mothers Valerie, and her best friend Lucien. Along with that, he takes good care of his appearance, finding it to be a great asset to him. He has found that people are more likely to listen to people they find attractive, so he tries his best to make that as likely as possible. 

Milo absolutely adores the attention that comes from his beauty, his fluffy hair and tall stature, paired with his brilliant posture and smooth skin, he basically glows, standing out in a crowd from a mile away, both from people admiring him...and people seeing the group of people admiring him and wanting to know whats going on. Milos mother Valerie co-owns a boutique, and having being raised by her, his style of fashion was very high status, despite not being particularly posh himself. But he was confident and proud, and those traits already increase the positive reaction to him. 

Wearing fashionable clothes designed by his mother or Lucien, often brought attention to him when he wasn't in his blue uniform, the fact on assisting his natural beauty, enhancing it even. Having a lot of beauty comes in extremely useful in a lot of situations, being able to even mildly manipulate the minds of those who adore you, getting what you want, only good things of course... 

His beauty did certainly come in handy, his family didn't overly care about status but he did, just within his own circle or so, he liked being the leader of the pack, and being very attractive certainly helped, people listened to him, people cared about what he had to say. 

As a child, his parents and family friends always praised him on his beauty and good looks, saying he was going to grow up to be a very handsome young man, often asking if they could do his hair or put him in fancy clothes for their entertainment, and that's how it has always been. Having to dress himself well to keep up appearances and look after his skin to avoid any pimples or rashes that he can. His skin was very clear generally so he didn't usually have to worry about it, but sometimes he would see a small spot under the skin and mildly panic at the idea of losing the typical stereotype of beauty. He is a bit shallow, but he is lovely.[/reducio]
Word count: 414[/quote]

[quote][b]5: Broken Broomshaft[/b][reducio]Just a regular quidditch practice, they did them often, especially when Milo went around and annoyed everybody into practicing with him. He loved quidditch with every inch of him. Having been playing around on brooms - in protected areas of course - since he was a kid. His Maman loved to fuel his athletic side, which was great of course that she supported his passions but also probably caused him to be a bit more chaotic than if he had persued less.. violent sports.

Either way, he loved it, it was his dream to play for a big league once he graduated, or maybe become like a flying professor or something? It gave him such a rush flying around, adrenaline pumping, it was more fun than anything he had ever done in his entre life. Although sometimes, as a beater, he went a little overboard. Everything seemed fine for a while, the team and the extra strings all mixed up playing against each other. 

Sometimes he does let himself go a bit too far. Bashing bludgers at people, he had never really hurt somebody, just knocked them off, somebodies ankle got sprained once because it hit their foot and it went a funky way, thankfully nothing broken. They just had to go to the hospital wing and get it sorted, no worries. 

But this time, he did go too far. He hit the bludger with his bat, as always, sent it flying towards one of his friends that was on the "opposing" team in this scenario. And the bludger...hit his broom, not only that, but it snapped into two pieces, shards of wood going everywhere as his friend plummeted towards the ground, hopefully splinterless. Thankfully somebody else on their team caught him pretty quickly but there was two distinct thuds as the two sections of the broom hit the ground below them. That would be quite a hefty Reparo needed for that one.

In the match, they ended up winning! Although Milo was tasked with attempting to repair the broom afterwards to make sure it was actually fixed... since it was his fault that it was broken in the first place. He owed his friend a Bezant as well for the trouble, which he was fine with paying up. At least, Milo felt a weird buzz from the whole ordeal, the fact that he found out he had this ability. He could use this, during other quidditch matches maybe? Against other teams? That would be a lot of fun. [/reducio]
Word count: 417[/quote]
[/quote]

iNPC NAME | Amaury Favreau
LINK | link!
YEAR | fifth
STATS | evasion: 11 --> 12; arc power: 13 --> 14 [from Quidditch wins here and here]
EXTRACURRICULAR | duellist
CODE |

Reducio

Code: Select all

[quote][quote][b]Broom Racer?[/b][size=83] NO[/size]
[b]Quidditch Player?[/b][size=83] NO[/size]
[b]Duellist?[/b][size=83] YES[/size][/quote]

[quote][b]STATS |[/b]
[size=87][b]Stamina:[/b] 6 | [b]Evasion:[/b] 12 | [b]Strength:[/b] 1 | [b]Wisdom:[/b] 11 | [b]ArcPower:[/b] 14 | [b]Accuracy:[/b] 14[/size][right][size=75][i]total 58 (+3 for Quidditch wins)[/i][/right][/size][/quote]

[quote][b]ABILITIES |[/b]
[size=95][b]YEAR ONE |[/b][/size] [size=83]LOVELY CREATURE[/size]
[reducio][size=87]Amaury drew looks; this, he knew well, because his own looks were fit for a king. And lucky that was, because amongst their French community, the Favreaus were royalty-- at least, so they assumed of themselves. Never did they shy away from parties, showing off their children, or splurging on the latest fashion trends, and Amaury was more often than not on the receiving end of these luxuries. Their appearance reflected their status-- that was what their parents had told them, what their parents’ parents had told them. Fashion was not for the lowly, the commoners. And so Amaury had been styled, primped, and preened since the day he was born, always prepared to be shown off like the righteous Pureblood he was. God forbid he make a complete embarrassment of the family by appearing in unfitted clothing or, god forbid, [i]wrinkles.[/i] Their reputation would be scorned for eternity-- there would be no recovery from a fashion faux pas.

Of course, it helped that the Favreaus and Beauforts were, and always had been, a family of good genes, and not just the wizarding ones. Lucille Favreau was gorgeous, and Aldéric was stunningly handsome. It was no surprise, then, that Amaury and his twin inherited the genes they did. And there was no question where Amaury got his genes from. The sharp jawline, the fair skin, and the full lips were all traits passed on from his mother, although his stature, dark hair, and deep brown eyes were all very clearly inherited from his father. His often quite intense stare and the way he held himself with poise and presence, often set people off, but nonetheless was oddly compelling, almost magnetising. It was not difficult, then, to charm the crowds-- they followed him blindly, entranced by his beauty and wiles. 

His dress, too, was something to admire. It wasn’t as though he was [i]fashionable,[/i] per se-- he didn’t go shopping for new outfits, and he certainly didn’t play dress-up in the mirror-- he simply always looked his best. With his hair meticulously styled to look as though it wasn’t styled in the least; clothes perfectly tailored to fit his tall, slender frame; and a jacket that likely cost more than his entire private tuition, although it wasn’t as though he himself had paid for it; Amaury’s bouts into the town never failed to draw a few stares-- primarily from the ladies of the town, but amongst the onlookers, there was no shortage of men as well. 

wc: 419
[/size][/reducio]
[size=95][b]YEAR TWO |[/b][/size] [size=83]CHARMER[/size]
[reducio][size=87]Amaury could do nothing if not charm a room. The family name was simply too important to disgrace with a misspoken word or half-hearted compliment. It was all or nothing for Amaury’s family, and as such, from the moment he could talk and walk, his parents would teach him the ways of the world alongside his brother and sisters-- social etiquette, manners, and, of course, manipulation. By the time he was seven, he knew how to ballroom dance. By nine, he could host a small party, greeting his guests with a firm handshake, eye contact, and a sickeningly sweet smile. And by the ripe age of eleven years old, his charm was simply intoxicating, leaving none immune to his childish smile and thorough manners. Though he matched the mannerisms of his family when they were alone-- cold, quiet, and aloof-- by the time he left home for Beauxbatons, he was adept at covering up his intimidating demeanor and plastering on a manufactured smile within a moment’s notice. He was unstoppable when he paired his easy smile with tossing a few well-timed compliments and flattering the enemy-- for, of course, to the Favreaus, they were all enemies. And the Favreaus lived their life by keeping their enemies closer. 

And close, they were. The Favreaus had a particular penchant for throwing parties: dinner parties, tea parties, cocktail parties-- if there were drinks, there were Favreaus. And the extravagant amount of parties in the Favreau manner were, of course, the perfect outlet for Amaury’s charm. By the time he was ten, he knew just how to play the room, using an equal mix of diplomacy and flattery to get his way. He held himself with an air of grace, hoping to impress his elders and impress upon them the fine stature of the House Favreau. The Favreaus were not unworthy hosts; they were not mere wizards; they were not just some family. No, they were Purebloods-- affluent and dignified, and their behavior, naturally, must reflect such eminence.

And where Amaury went, his charm only followed. Beauxbatons was not ready for 115 pounds of pure charisma, and Amaury was completely ready to use that to his advantage. For he had realised that smiles were not only useful for upholding the family’s reputation; his wiles could also be particularly useful in social manipulation, buttering up his mark until he was ready to make a move. While he spent his off-time practicing charms and jinxes rather than on his assignments, he would simply beseech them to write it off, or struck a deal with his professors that often worked out better for him than it did for them. For, even the most wiley of professors were not immune to the charms of one Amaury Favreau.

wc: 459
[/size][/reducio]
[size=95][b]YEAR THREE |[/b][/size] [size=83]PERFECTIONIST[/size]
[reducio][size=87]Amaury couldn’t stand to lose. He hated the feeling, hated the judgement, hated everything about it. He wasn’t a sore loser, of course-- he took his defeats with grace, putting on a show of sportsmanship. Only a disgrace to the family would throw a fit over losing-- but then, only a disgrace to the family would lose in the first place. He would fight to the ends of the earth to secure a victory, as his siblings well knew. But as competitive as Amaury was at home, it was nothing remotely comparable to his attitude on the duelling stage. 

From the moment the boy was introduced to the respectable yet aggressive sport of magical duelling, early in his first year at Beauxbatons, Amaury was absolutely enthralled-- caught hook, line, and sinker. The admirable sport had all the thrill and bragging rights of traditional fisticuffs, and the competition and victories of broom racing, but with none of the physical aggression and the stupid outfits. No, when duelling, Amaury could fight, legally and acceptably, with his favorite weapon-- his wand, and magic.

And so Amaury, from the moment he got his hands on a spellbook, threw himself in, head-first, to duelling. It was perhaps nearly an obsession, but absolutely nothing would be allowed to stand in the way of him and his sport. And although he wasn’t much for school, he found a passion in learning new spells, jinxes, and hexes he could use to destroy his opponents. He perused anything he could get his hands on-- mostly textbooks, old and new-- long into the night, evading the responsibilities of his assignments. They weren’t worth his time anyway, he told himself, as he read just one more chapter under the covers.

Magic came easily to him, he realised as spells flew from his wand without a hitch time after time. But nonetheless, he practiced. He practiced, and practiced, and practiced until he thought his wand might break, at which point he stopped, because Merlin knew his wand was the most valuable thing he owned. He practiced at home, he practiced in class, he practiced in between classes. He expected nothing less than absolute perfection and, soon, so did his family. He took it upon himself to become a world-class dueller, for nothing else would suffice. Not a single spell would fail; not a single spell would miss. That was the expectation, and that was the undeniable result of Amaury’s hard work.

wc:409
[/size][/reducio]
[size=95][b]YEAR FOUR |[/b][/size] [size=83]EVASIVE MANEUVERS[/size]
[reducio][size=87]Amaury had a tendency to get in over his head. Always reading ahead in his spell textbooks, practicing charms and hexes that were perhaps a bit too difficult for a wizard of his young age. Nevertheless, warnings from friends, professors, family, against such activities, warnings in his best interest, still would not deter him from building his arsenal of spells, one large step towards becoming the greatest dueller of his time. And so he would practice such spells perhaps a little recklessly, such spells much too unfit for such a young wizard to know in theory, let alone use in practice. 

And of such unprotected and advanced practice came predictable, yet unavoidable disaster. A poor combination: an old book, a difficult incantation, a backfired curse. Disaster; a searing pain slicing through Amaury’s arm, fuzzing his brain, his vision; red, warm, wet. Pain in his knees as he dropped to the stone floor. Black, quiet, then light again, and a scream, an incantation-- [i]ferula.[/i] A servant or a parent, Amaury didn’t know, couldn’t tell. Bandages flew around his arm, cinching tightly to hold in the blood seeping out. Black again. Light again, but this time he was on his back. A ceaseless sting of beratings from his parents, his sister’s face, his brother’s face, his twin’s face. A burning pain in his right arm, his forearm. Bandages still cinched tightly around the area. Black again.

Two years later, the scar still remained. A thin, faint line of raised skin, stretching six and a half centimeters down the inside of his right forearm. It was hard to notice unless one looked closely, although Amaury never let anyone get close enough to quite make it out clearly. But even if it wasn't obvious to outsiders, Amaury was painfully aware of its presence, taking it as a warning. The warning, though, was not of getting ahead of himself, of biting off more than he could chew. No, contrary to expectations, the warning was this: to stay on his toes. To stay on his toes to know his abilities, know his limits. To stay on his toes to avoid stray spells, or non-stray spells that were specifically aimed at him. 

Although his façade claimed he could take a hit, he was fully aware of his weak and lean stature, so he relied on his quick dodges and powerful spells to keep him standing. And as he duelled, as he practiced, he only got quicker, faster, lighter on his toes-- his dodges became more anticipated, his evasions became more fluid, and he was nearly untouchable.

wc:431
[/size][/reducio]
[size=95][b]YEAR FIVE |[/b][/size] [size=83]FEARLESS[/size]
[reducio][size=87]Amaury never intended to find himself in an illegal duel during the short days he spent at the Hogwarts castle, but the enthusiastic Russian boy who accosted him one autumn afternoon seemed to have other plans. Duelling was the topic of conversation, one Amaury knew plenty about. The other boy, too, seemed similarly interested, and Amaury couldn't resist delving into the topic with a fellow duellist, however frivolous he may seem. And although Amaury feigned apathy at the Durmstrang student's suggestion that the two have a "fun" practice session, he couldn't help but be intrigued. Duelling was duelling, no matter the opponent, and Amaury was simply eager to get back on the stage-- so to speak.

It was truly a shame, Amaury thought as he made his way towards the location the two had agreed upon, that a boy so optimistic had set himself up for failure at the wand of Beauxbaton's finest dueller-- at least, in Amaury's eyes. He stood across from the boy, wand at the ready, as his competition raised his own.

Amaury knew people. He knew what they would say, how they would react, what topics made them tic.  Nothing, however, could have prepared him for the onslaught that bubbly little Maksim Preobrazhensky released from his wand that afternoon. The boy seemed to morph into a different person, smiles and small talk replaced with intimidation and concerningly colorful insults. The spells came towards Amaury at a furious speed, a deadly glare in Maksim's eyes, unlike anything Amaury had seen before. This was the face of a boy who had nothing to lose, the face of a boy who knew what he wanted, who could send Amaury to the infirmary with just a look.

Amaury saw death in this boy's eyes as they slung their spells, all ground rules and forethought out the window. This was a fight for his [i]life[/i]. He seemed to shrink as he shot his spells with the same intensity that usually came naturally but now felt forced as he simply held his ground and waited out the storm. There would be no risky, offensive moves today. The typical cocky confidence that held his head high and ego higher slipped away, until it all suddenly... stopped. 

The smile sat comfortably on Maksim's face, as if it had never disappeared. As if not one minute ago he was targeting Amaury as the victim of his deadly slew of spells.

Amaury left Maksim, feeling shaken yet determined. He had felt, standing across from the other boy, [i]helpless.[/i] Perhaps even... scared? Neither were feelings Amaury was particularly familiar, or comfortable, with. So, determined. Determined to take the stage with an air of confidence, and leave the same way, [i]every single time.[/i] None of this fear nonsense. There was no one in this world who could stand up to Amaury now-- why should they? He had faced God today, and dammit, if he wasn't going to come out the other side stronger, better, and unafraid of Death himself.

wc: 504
[/size][/reducio][/quote]
[quote][center][size=87]All mentions of Amadea Campbell’s iNPC, [i]Sylviane Favreau,[/i] have been approved by Amadea.[/size][/center][/quote][/quote]

[font=Copperplate Gothic Light]

Beauxbatons

[/font]

NAME ────── Callista Gabrielle Aloria/i] AGE ────── 12 YEAR ────── 1 HOUSE ────── Ombrelune BLOOD STATS ────── Halfblood MISC ────── here MISC ────── here

APPEARANCE Often described as the most beautiful child in France, Callista has gorgeous wavy light brown hair that flows to just above her waist, mesmerising blue eyes and a beautiful heart-shaped face. She likes to wear light makeup, to enhance her features, and her normal attire is the Beauxbatons uniform and jeans plus a sweater for casual wear. HISTORY There is only one thing that Callista dislikes about herself. Her blood status. As a halfblood, she absolutely despises her father’s status as a muggleborn. She has a good relationship with her family, which includes her father, but still sometimes wishes that she would be born a pureblood. Growing up, Callista had lived a quite uneventful life in France. She was homeschooled by her mother, who had taught her to be strong and ruthless. It was hard to not be cold when you were brought up that way. She doesn’t have siblings, so it has always been her parents and her. She was an only child, so her parents gave her everything they had as a middle class family. She took classes for painting, Spanish, ballroom dancing, karate. She never lasted long for each one though. She got bored of each one, and while she was pretty good at each, she isn’t passionate about them. She’s still searching for the right hobby. The only exciting thing that happened to her during her uneventful life was moving to Paris. The Aloria family lived in Annecy, a small town in southeastern France, but had moved to Paris for her father’s work. Callista loves life in the big city. But since she doesn’t go to school like the other kids, and her parents don't have a lot of friends in the city, she grew up without a lot of friends. One of her only friends is a boy of the same age in the neighbourhood, named Antoine. They were best friends, and he was one of Callista’s only friends growing up. They would often hang out after Antoine finished school. He was the only one Callista would open up to, about life at home and her mother’s expectations of her, and the stress she would be feeling. And he understood. When Callista was told she was accepted into Beauxbatons, she was overjoyed. She would finally find people like her, people who would understand her background and maybe share it. The only downside to it was that Antoine wouldn’t be there with her. He was a muggle. It took everything Callista had to wave goodbye, and it was even more painful to not be able to tell him everything. She told him that she would be attending a boarding school, but nothing else. She promised to write to him, and set off on her journey to Beauxbatons. Reducio Callista’s parents had magic, so it was almost predicted that she would have magical power. And she did. But her first instant came a little later than other people. Her mother was scared that she wouldn't have magic, or it wouldn’t be strong. Which was why she had always been so concerned. Her first instance of magic came when she was 10 years old, on her birthday. She had celebrated it with her parents. The birthday cake her parents ordered was a big ice cream cake shaped like a cute baby seal. When her father cut her the first piece, his hand slipped and the cake fell towards the ground. Callista had been wanting that cake for a long time, and her piece was the head, she couldn’t afford to waste it. It didn’t drop, she ended up levitating the piece of cake just before it fell to the ground. The cake was saved. That was also the only time she showed a sign of magic. PERSONALITY Callista is highly intelligent and talented. While she is not a genius, she does take less time than others to learn something and to understand a concept. Even though she is talented, she doesn’t spend much time studying, which is why she isn’t the top of her class. Apart from that, there is a reason why she doesn’t have a lot of friends. She is often sarcastic and would be quite mean to other people. Most of her classmates end up disliking her because of that. She carries herself with a sense of confidence, which some people look up to.

BROOM RACER no QUIDDITCH PLAYER no DUELIST yes

STATS stamina 5 | evasion 6 | strength 5 wisdom 7 | arc power 7 | accuracy 5

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