NPC Name: Amaya Haddock
Link: [X]
Year: Sixth

Stats: (51) + 2
Stamina » 8 || Evasion » 14 || Strength » 2 || Wisdom » 11 || Arc Power » 7 || Accuracy » 11

Abilities:

Year One ~ Lovely Creature

Reducio

Ever since she was a little girl, Amaya had always been self-conscious of her appearance and thoroughly watched her weight and nutrition. It was the reason she stood only a few inches taller than five feet. She wanted to look, be, and feel admitted in her clan. Females of the tribe had gorgeous curly hair, usually braided. They were all extremely pretty, to say the least, The girl had shortened her hair to restrict the number of hours she wasted on it. Growing up in tribes, she learned how to preserve her hair using aloe vera, and she also studied a few protective styles to attempt on herself. It was always competition within the family. It was a difficult transition from her small hometown to the huge city of Minneapolis. She stuck out, but that was a good thing.

At school, the girl still continues her skincare routine, incorporating multiple elixirs and creams from home. After all, she had the best of both worlds. Maya had acquired an exaggerated sense of vanity from herself and the people around her. She knew her worth, even if it was heavily taxed. After all, she earned it after spending hundreds of dollars on face cream before Ilvermorny. Strangers would take note of her hard-earned appearance, she always had a date to the reception, and while she could have taken offense to the catcalls she experienced on the streets, she took it indifferently and with a simper. It was only another boost to her self-confidence.

Ebony Moore put an unnecessary strain on her daughter, essentially due to the fact the only remanent of her husband sat in front of her. After all, Amaya carried her father's last name, features of his personality, and looks. Their relationship was never well-built, their days were congested with arguments. She didn't have her father around to counter the words put into her head. Perhaps if she had a father figure, Ebony wouldn't have enunciated such virulent words. It stressed her out. Ultimately, she wanted to be comfortable and have her own family. Her looks and essential home skills would be the necessities to find her a husband, and while that did sound like her 'happily ever after,' she wouldn't linger in the same walls that had been constructed around her mother. More or less, she wouldn't be bribed into the twisted system by her own blood.

But until then, Maya would stick to perfecting her natural beauty.

WC: 409

Year Tw0 ~ Calming Presence

Reducio

Eventually growing up the oldest of four, Amaya is a consistently relaxed person, it takes a lot for her to make her crack. On her mother's side, she has and manages three other siblings. Well, half-siblings, and she's been there to see her sisters (and brother) get caught up in awkward situations she could have prevented. They aren't that far apart in age, but she has always been a safe space to rant to even when they couldn't trust their mother. She's seen them break down similar to herself. Maybe it was a trait that her mother carried.

Being the oldest came with a lot of early on pressure and the weight only continued to get heavier as she progressed in age. As much as she wanted to have someone to talk to about her problems, she couldn't go to her mother without her lack of empathy dismissing her problems as a sign of teenage hormones. And her father? Well, it had been years since they've last seen each other. She didn't even retain his face. Amaya could only trust herself with her problems. It was up to Amaya to keep her mental health in check. It was either a win or loss, but there weren't too many wins in her history.

Sneaking a dog into the house was never a wise decision, but it was every girl's dream to own a small pup and it was a stray. Reina was only nine years old at the time, but her older sister was the first person she came to after getting scorned by her mother. It was a bit odd how two words and a tight embrace could stop tears from falling. Amaya had learned to bottle up her emotions, it was uncommon to see her cry. Perhaps it was because instead of concentrating on her own problems, she advised others. She had witnessed her peers weep, but her tear ducts were unaffected for the most part. Those emotional scenes in movies didn't have an effect on her anymore. It was in her nature, like mother, like daughter.

Maybe it were her candid words that made her easy to trust. Maya adhered to her words, always. She didn't have a motive to lie, there was no point in getting caught up in her own words. She didn't have the greatest memory either... Regardless of what others thought, if something didn't seem legitimate, the girl would be the first to say and not very lightly either; she was relentlessly honest and there were no exceptions.

WC: 424

Year Three ~ Stastically Relevant [+2 to evasion]

Reducio

The Native American girl spent her early childhood running around with the other children inside of her tribe. Whether it was rain or shine, or even snow or sleet, she was always out exercising her energy. She couldn't sit in her parent's home and do her chores. She was lazy but in her own unique way. Her mother was completely fine with the housework anyway. She was far too indolent to remain in one spot and scrub the antique china. It was an early sign of ADHD, but both her parents and Amaya dismissed it. After all, every five year old had some type
of energy that seemed infinite.

Islandball was a traditional tournament played by the children of the Dakota tribe, an adapted variation of dodgeball that had stuck in their family for decades. It was regular dodgeball, sure, but one small movement of the girl's feet would get her kicked out of the competition. It was the girl's favorite, though she wasn't the best at it. Launching a ball with power was very difficult with her feet planted in the same spot.

Being the commander of her team, she got to shine and show off her quickness and nimble frame. Maya certainly wasn't chosen because of her powerful arm, but because of her inability to stay in one spot. It made her a truly mobile victim if they could get to her. She had a pronounced target on her back being the only person on the team who could admittedly run throughout the field. She was in charge of returning dodgeballs to her team and staying on her feet. She couldn't get out. With dozens of rubber balls being hurled at her face, she couldn't help but stay alert. Flawless games were unusual for commanders, but not unheard of. She dove, slid, and ducked underneath the red balls flying towards her, and before she knew it the whistle was sounded and the last player of the opposing team had been knocked out. She'd earned her perfect run!

Her childish behavior kept her hyperactivity disorder down, it was the only time she could focus. Maya wasn't a very competitive person, but she wanted to win. More importantly, she didn't want to let down her team or be the reason for their downfall. It was a lot of pressure, but she wasn't focused on it. It was a bit unusual how she could find the energy to play with the other children, but she couldn't complete her housework. The girl needed to move, who could blame her for that?

WC: 429

Year Four ~ Perfectionist

Reducio

Amaya had discovered her calling inside her tribe, an excuse to finally obtain her parents' blessing; something that wouldn't overpower her into the same profession as her mother. She couldn't be a housewife, she was considered too lazy to even leave the bed without the impulse of her clients' dollars.

Before she bestowed her 'expertise' with the women of her tribe she practiced on herself and her mother, at least when she was so deep into her slumber she couldn't feel the fine bristles of her brushes applying pigment to her face. Every Friday night, she earned money from gambling on Islandball. Whether she was playing or not, she made intelligent decisions to finance her side hustle. Needless to say, she was more than just a pretty face. Maya went to the neighborhood supermarket, outside of her land, and came back with eyeliner, foundation, eyeshadow, highlighters, and the basic necessities for a makeup look. One thing she forgot, however, was a method to remove the cosmetics.

Perched by the river, she would prop up a mirror on rock and work on her look, focusing on everything but the fine strokes of her hand. The sound of the rushing water always found a way to distract her. With every mistake she made, the water was contaminated a new shade of eyeshadow, but she didn't know any better. If push came to shove, the grocery store carried bottles of water, but every chief maintained the traditions of its history. Doing makeup was frustrating, it never turned out in her favor. She could never find a way to cover up her natural freckles, the eyeshadow was never a match for her, and Maya always abused the blush. It never worked out, but she wouldn't give up hope! Cosmetics was something she played constantly in, trying her hardest to achieve new looks she recognized in public and mimick the warpaint of her ancestors.

The girl completed her first satisfactory look at the age of fourteen, nearly a whole year of decorating herself in paint. She was proud, it was perfect! The girl showed it off to her whole faction but remained humble about it. After all, she wasn't going to force a false compliment out of the other girls. Achieving her version of perfection convinced Amaya to put her artwork out there... on other people! It didn't take long before her father began promoting her work, and soon, she had a couple of loyal friends around her age to gossip with. Makeup was her passion, she was thrilled to share it with the ladies she'd grown up with.

Her perfectionism was the same when it came to magic. Witchcraft began to take over her life as she invested more time into it. Maya hadn't taken her first three years in school seriously, she was still adapting to the second world around her. She could use these powers to benefit her tribe, once she turned the legal age, of course. Away from Ilvermorny, she would practice for hours until she received her first letter from the Ministry. She couldn't blame them. Her village was very big and her secret could have easily slipped from ear to ear. Still, that didn't stop her from telling her close friends.

Reciting the first spells she learned in her first year, Amaya wouldn't forget the incantation, articulation, even the etymology of the spell. There were late night sessions by the river until she felt comfortable with spells... but she still reached her quality of perfection. She went through many tribulations; worries that one of her peers may catch her or that she appeared 'off' compared to the rest. She did. The girl didn't fit the stereotype of the Dakota tribe, but disregarding the magic of the village's shaman, using her abilities was seen as a sin.

It had taken her forever to achieve perfection; she wasn't quite there yet, but you couldn't tell Amaya that. She had already achieved her goal and really, that's all that mattered.

WC: 465

Extracurricular: Dueling
Content Changes:

Reducio

Changing birthdate to November 6th, 2003 to reflect year change.
Reason: Amaya struggled early on with magic. It was to be expected. After all, she didn't expect to receive admission to an unheard school. Her mother had received many rants from her daughter. She didn't fit in, she felt as if the school didn't accept her, and she was struggling in her classes. It was a unanimous choice to hold Amaya back a year, it was for her own benefit.
Fourth year >> Sixth year

Trunk Coding: please place here any special coding you want for your trunk. keep it simple

Reducio

Code: Select all

[center][img]/images/upload/ixi2vq.webp[/img][/center]
[quote][center][b][size=120][u]Stats (53):[/u][/size][/b]
Stamina » 8 || Evasion » 14 || Strength » 2 || Wisdom » 11 || Arc Power » 7 || Accuracy » 11[/center]
[/quote]
[quote][center][size=120][b][u]Abilities:[/u][/b][/size][/center]
First Year: Lovely Creature [[url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=314&t=7516&p=271544#p271544]X[/url]]
[reducio]Ever since she was a little girl, Amaya had always been self-conscious of her appearance and thoroughly watched her weight and nutrition. It was the reason she stood only a few inches taller than five feet. She wanted to look, be, and feel admitted in her clan. Females of the tribe had gorgeous curly hair, usually braided. They were all extremely pretty, to say the least, The girl had shortened her hair to restrict the number of hours she wasted on it. Growing up in tribes, she learned how to preserve her hair using aloe vera, and she also studied a few protective styles to attempt on herself. It was always competition within the family. It was a difficult transition from her small hometown to the huge city of Minneapolis. She stuck out, but that was a good thing. 

At school, the girl still continues her skincare routine, incorporating multiple elixirs and creams from home. After all, she had the best of both worlds. Maya had acquired an exaggerated sense of vanity from herself and the people around her. She knew her worth, even if it was heavily taxed. After all, she earned it after spending hundreds of dollars on face cream before Ilvermorny. Strangers would take note of her hard-earned appearance, she always had a date to the reception, and while she could have taken offense to the catcalls she experienced on the streets, she took it indifferently and with a simper. It was only another boost to her self-confidence. 

Ebony Moore put an unnecessary strain on her daughter, essentially due to the fact the only remanent of her husband sat in front of her. After all, Amaya carried her father's last name, features of his personality, and looks. Their relationship was never well-built, their days were congested with arguments. She didn't have her father around to counter the words put into her head. Perhaps if she had a father figure, Ebony wouldn't have enunciated such virulent words. It stressed her out. Ultimately, she wanted to be comfortable and have her own family. Her looks and essential home skills would be the necessities to find her a husband, and while that did sound like her 'happily ever after,' she wouldn't linger in the same walls that had been constructed around her mother. More or less, she wouldn't be bribed into the twisted system by her own blood. 

But until then, Maya would stick to perfecting her natural beauty.[/reducio]
Second Year: Calming Presence [[url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=314&t=7516&p=271544#p271544]X[/url]]
[reducio]Eventually growing up the oldest of four, Amaya is a consistently relaxed person, it takes a lot for her to make her crack. On her mother's side, she has and manages three other siblings. Well, half-siblings, and she's been there to see her sisters (and brother) get caught up in awkward situations she could have prevented. They aren't that far apart in age, but she has always been a safe space to rant to even when they couldn't trust their mother. She's seen them break down similar to herself. Maybe it was a trait that her mother carried. 

Being the oldest came with a lot of early on pressure and the weight only continued to get heavier as she progressed in age. As much as she wanted to have someone to talk to about her problems, she couldn't go to her mother without her lack of empathy dismissing her problems as a sign of teenage hormones. And her father? Well, it had been years since they've last seen each other. She didn't even retain his face. Amaya could only trust herself with her problems. It was up to Amaya to keep her mental health in check. It was either a win or loss, but there weren't too many wins in her history. 

Sneaking a dog into the house was never a wise decision, but it was every girl's dream to own a small pup and it was a stray. Reina was only nine years old at the time, but her older sister was the first person she came to after getting scorned by her mother. It was a bit odd how two words and a tight embrace could stop tears from falling. Amaya had learned to bottle up her emotions, it was uncommon to see her cry. Perhaps it was because instead of concentrating on her own problems, she advised others. She had witnessed her peers weep, but her tear ducts were unaffected for the most part. Those emotional scenes in movies didn't have an effect on her anymore. It was in her nature, like mother, like daughter. 

Maybe it were her candid words that made her easy to trust. Maya adhered to her words, always. She didn't have a motive to lie, there was no point in getting caught up in her own words. She didn't have the greatest memory either... Regardless of what others thought, if something didn't seem legitimate, the girl would be the first to say and not very lightly either; she was relentlessly honest and there were no exceptions. [/reducio]
Third Year: Statistically Relevant [[url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=314&t=7516&p=271544#p271544]X[/url]]
[reducio]The Native American girl spent her early childhood running around with the other children inside of her tribe. Whether it was rain or shine, or even snow or sleet, she was always out exercising her energy. She couldn't sit in her parent's home and do her chores. She was lazy but in her own unique way. Her mother was completely fine with the housework anyway. She was far too indolent to remain in one spot and scrub the antique china. It was an early sign of ADHD, but both her parents and Amaya dismissed it. After all, every five year old had some type 
 of energy that seemed infinite. 

Islandball was a traditional tournament played by the children of the Dakota tribe, an adapted variation of dodgeball that had stuck in their family for decades. It was regular dodgeball, sure, but one small movement of the girl's feet would get her kicked out of the competition. It was the girl's favorite, though she wasn't the best at it. Launching a ball with power was very difficult with her feet planted in the same spot. 

Being the commander of her team, she got to shine and show off her quickness and nimble frame. Maya certainly wasn't chosen because of her powerful arm, but because of her inability to stay in one spot. It made her a truly mobile victim if they could get to her. She had a pronounced target on her back being the only person on the team who could admittedly run throughout the field. She was in charge of returning dodgeballs to her team and staying on her feet. She couldn't get out. With dozens of rubber balls being hurled at her face, she couldn't help but stay alert. Flawless games were unusual for commanders, but not unheard of. She dove, slid, and ducked underneath the red balls flying towards her, and before she knew it the whistle was sounded and the last player of the opposing team had been knocked out. She'd earned her perfect run!

Her childish behavior kept her hyperactivity disorder down, it was the only time she could focus. Maya wasn't a very competitive person, but she wanted to win. More importantly, she didn't want to let down her team or be the reason for their downfall. It was a lot of pressure, but she wasn't focused on it. It was a bit unusual how she could find the energy to play with the other children, but she couldn't complete her housework. The girl needed to move, who could blame her for that?[/reducio]
Fourth Year: Perfectionist [[url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=314&t=7516&p=271544#p271544]X[/url]]
[reducio]Amaya had discovered her calling inside her tribe, an excuse to finally obtain her parents' blessing; something that wouldn't overpower her into the same profession as her mother. She couldn't be a housewife, she was considered too lazy to even leave the bed without the impulse of her clients' dollars. 

Before she bestowed her 'expertise' with the women of her tribe she practiced on herself and her mother, at least when she was so deep into her slumber she couldn't feel the fine bristles of her brushes applying pigment to her face. Every Friday night, she earned money from gambling on Islandball. Whether she was playing or not, she made intelligent decisions to finance her side hustle. Needless to say, she was more than just a pretty face. Maya went to the neighborhood supermarket, outside of her land, and came back with eyeliner, foundation, eyeshadow, highlighters, and the basic necessities for a makeup look. One thing she forgot, however, was a method to remove the cosmetics. 

Perched by the river, she would prop up a mirror on rock and work on her look, focusing on everything but the fine strokes of her hand. The sound of the rushing water always found a way to distract her. With every mistake she made, the water was contaminated a new shade of eyeshadow, but she didn't know any better. If push came to shove, the grocery store carried bottles of water, but every chief maintained the traditions of its history. Doing makeup was frustrating, it never turned out in her favor. She could never find a way to cover up her natural freckles, the eyeshadow was never a match for her, and Maya always abused the blush. It never worked out, but she wouldn't give up hope! Cosmetics was something she played constantly in, trying her hardest to achieve new looks she recognized in public and mimick the warpaint of her ancestors. 

The girl completed her first satisfactory look at the age of fourteen, nearly a whole year of decorating herself in paint. She was proud, it was perfect! The girl showed it off to her whole faction but remained humble about it. After all, she wasn't going to force a false compliment out of the other girls. Achieving her version of perfection convinced Amaya to put her artwork out there... on other people! It didn't take long before her father began promoting her work, and soon, she had a couple of loyal friends around her age to gossip with. Makeup was her passion, she was thrilled to share it with the ladies she'd grown up with. 

Her perfectionism was the same when it came to magic. Witchcraft began to take over her life as she invested more time into it. Maya hadn't taken her first three years in school seriously, she was still adapting to the second world around her. She could use these powers to benefit her tribe, once she turned the legal age, of course. Away from Ilvermorny, she would practice for hours until she received her first letter from the Ministry. She couldn't blame them. Her village was very big and her secret could have easily slipped from ear to ear. Still, that didn't stop her from telling her close friends. 

Reciting the first spells she learned in her first year, Amaya wouldn't forget the incantation, articulation, even the etymology of the spell. There were late night sessions by the river until she felt comfortable with spells... but she still reached her quality of perfection. She went through many tribulations; worries that one of her peers may catch her or that she appeared 'off' compared to the rest. She did. The girl didn't fit the stereotype of the Dakota tribe, but disregarding the magic of the village's shaman, using her abilities was seen as a sin. 

It had taken her forever to achieve perfection; she wasn't quite there yet, but you couldn't tell Amaya that. She had already achieved her goal and really, that's all that mattered.[/reducio]
[/quote]

PENDING - July 15th - Content changes were noted (birth year and school year changes) that need reconciliation. You will receive an owl shortly with more details.

July 16th - Perfectionist application - the perfectionist ability relates to spellcasting, as it reduces your critical fail chance for spells. Please elaborate more on how her perfectionism relates to her spellcasting.

Also the content change needs to be her original birthdate of November 6th 2003, and give an explanation for being a year behind.

APPROVED

iNPC Name: Melody Lane Westmoore

Link: *voila!*

Year: Second

Stats: Old stats - Stamina: 7 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 5 | Wisdom: 5 | Arc Power: 6 | Accuracy: 5
xxxxxNEW STATS - Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 9 | Strength: 6 | Wisdom: 5 | Arc Power: 6 | Accuracy: 6

Abilities:

Year One: Evasive Maneuvers Reducio Since she was small, Mel has always been particularly athletic. She plays soccer and runs track at home, and is quite good at them, too. Nimble and quick, once the girl gets running almost no one can catch her. The same is true for Quidditch, up in the air. Mel swoops and dives out of reach of bludgers, scoring goals like nobody's business. Aside from physical deftness, Melody Westmoore has a good instinct. She rarely goes wrong while following her gut, and this has saved her from dangerous situations before. This instinct is especially useful given her Thunderbird wanderlust, and impulsive tendencies. Throughout her school career and the rest of her life, it will serve her well. It all started when she was very young. In elementary school, Melody discovered that running was a way to quiet her mind. To block out her hurricane of thoughts and worries -would her mother be able to make the house payments on her low salary? Would they lose their house? Would Mel ever feel like she truly fit in? Like she was in charge of her life?- and let it all melt away until there was only the pounding of her feet against the ground and her heavy, rhythmic breathing. She began to run all the time, and this was when she joined the track team. This bled over into other activities, and soon she was constantly active, the muscles in her arms and legs becoming toned and her skin becoming tanned from all that time outside, under the Oregon sun. She ran and played soccer and sometimes basket- or volleyball. In the summer she spent hours every week at the community pool. Always in motion, Mel was able to drown the unrest raging within her. This, too, was the time when she built up her instinct, though it had always been somewhat ingrained and natural. With a single mom working all the time, and now a younger brother, Mel had had to learn to take care of herself. It wasn't for lack of care or attentiveness on her mother's part, but in Vanorah's fight to keep the family afloat, it was often necessary for her daughter to become quite independent. As Mel grew older, her home situation became more stable, and she more sure of herself with age, but she never lost her built-up stamina, athleticism, or instinct, and least of all her independence. Word Count: 402

(NEW) Year Two: Fearless Reducio Let's face it, everyone has their faults. And quite frankly, Melody Westmoore has quite a few of them -but don't tell her I said that! One indisputable thing about her, though, is that the girl is fearless. She always has been, really, it's just in her nature. When she learned about the magical world and her place in it, and arrived at Ilvermorny for the first time, you would think she'd become less daring because of the surprize and uncertainty. Nope! At that point, she had already faced the shock of a lifetime and so became even less easily spooked. Whether or not this was always a good thing...well, that is up for debate. Reckless, irresponsible, and hotheaded are words she often hears tossed around. But nonetheless, Mel takes pride in her courage. She is always the first off the high dive or into the dark cave. If Ilvermorny had superlatives, she'd be named 'most likely to jump out of a plane' (with a parachute on; she may be impulsive but she isn't stupid). The following role-play takes place the summer before her last year of muggle school before Ilvermorny. It is an example of an instance where Mel demonstrated her ingrained fearlessness: It was dark. Really dark. Mel stared into the trees ahead of her, ignoring the ominous sounds emitting from the woods. It was just a forest; she totally had this in the bag. She was at wilderness camp in Portland -where she typically went for part of the summer- about to participate in the Overnight Challenge. The object of the challenge was to spend one night in the forest alone with only a sleeping bag, a box of waterproof matches, a tarp, a nylon cord, a canteen of water, a Swiss army knife, and a few energy bars. There was a camp counselor nearby in case you needed them, of course, but if you interacted with them in any way, you were disqualified. If a camper completed the challenge, they received a medal and their name would be written in Sharpie on the wooden sign hanging in the Mess Hall. Participants had to be ten years old, and have a permission slip signed by a parent. Not many campers attempted the challenge, as it was not generally considered pleasant to freeze your butt off in the woods alone. Only a few kids each summer completed the task. But Mel was confident -no, certain- she could handle it. She was finally old enough, and this was her year. Taking one last glance at her fellow campers lined up to see her off, Mel started into the woods. Great, now that song from that one musical was playing in her head. 'Into the woods, it's time to go, I hate to leave, I have to, though. Into the woods, it's time, and so I must begin my journey...' Mel shook her head to rid it of the tune, and surveyed her surroundings. She would complete the challenge that most shied away from. With her wits, ingenuity, and fearlessness, so help her the name Melody Westmoore was going on that board. An hour later, the girl had managed to set up a makeshift tent by tying the cord between two trees and draping the tarp over it. It wasn't much, but hey, shelter was shelter. She had eaten two of the energy bars, and resolved to save the other two for later. A ring of stones had been assembled to make a firepit, and at the moment, Mel was attempting to start a fire. It was not going well. They made it look so easy on tv. It wasn't. The larger sticks wouldn't catch, and when Mel tried to start small with kindling, the pine needles she lit smoked and fizzled out. Her twig teepee kept collapsing. Ugh! It would be darker soon, and colder. But she couldn't really leave an open fire going while she slept, in the middle of a forest. That was just plain dumb. Still, she would have liked some warmth. A few more fruitless tries with the matches and Mel gave up. Settling down into her sleeping bag under the tarp, the girl heard a noise. Crack. Crunch. Craacck. There was a series of huffs and grunts. That sounded like... Mel quietly poked her head out from her tent. Sure enough, there was a large, furry, brown creature nosing around in her bag, which she'd left outside. A bear. And from the looks of it, it was hungry. (For energy bars, not people). Those were her bars. She needed them to survive this brutal frontier. Or at least, to not get really hungry. In hindsight, Mel should have just let the bear have the stupid energy bars. She should not have lunged out from behind the tarp and started waving her arms around and yelling. But Mel is a girl of quick, sometimes impetuous decisions. And that is just what she did. Without fear, riding an adrenaline surge, Mel confronted the creature. The bear made a few whining sounds and batted a paw around in the air. Mel ducked it. The bear stood up on their hind legs and stared Mel down. It didn't seem particularly hostile, but to Mel, that thing was freaking Godzilla. With a last few grunts it took one of the bars in its mouth and lumbered away. Mel had done it. She still had all of her limbs intact and one precious energy bar, untouched. It may have been a rash action, but it had worked out all right. (This event did nothing for the girl's ego.) Wow, if this kind of thing happens often, Mel thought, then the camp must have one heck of a law team. She ate the last bar as a reward, and settled back down into her sleeping bag. The next morning, she'd have quite the story to tell. Word Count: 984

Extracurricular: Quidditch Player

Content Changes: None, I don't think.

Trunk Coding:

Reducio

Code: Select all

[quote][/quote][quote][center][img]/images/upload/h9vnod.webp[/img][/center][/quote]
[quote][center][size=125][u]= Stats =[/u][/size]

[font=garamond]Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 9 | Strength: 6 | Wisdom: 5 | Arc Power: 6 | Accuracy: 6[/font][/center][/quote]
[quote][center][size=125][u]= Abilities =[/u][/size][/center]
[size=125]Year One: [i]Evasive Maneuvers[/i][/size] [reducio]Since she was small, Mel has always been particularly athletic. She plays soccer and runs track at home, and is quite good at them, too. Nimble and quick, once the girl gets running almost no one can catch her. The same is true for Quidditch, up in the air. Mel swoops and dives out of reach of bludgers, scoring goals like nobody's business. Aside from physical deftness, Melody Westmoore has a good instinct. She rarely goes wrong while following her gut, and this has saved her from dangerous situations before. This instinct is especially useful given her Thunderbird wanderlust, and impulsive tendencies. Throughout her school career and the rest of her life, it will serve her well.

It all started when she was very young. In elementary school, Melody discovered that running was a way to quiet her mind. To block out her hurricane of thoughts and worries -would her mother be able to make the house payments on her low salary? Would they lose their house? Would Mel ever feel like she truly fit in? Like she was in charge of her life?- and let it all melt away until there was only the pounding of her feet against the ground and her heavy, rhythmic breathing.
She began to run all the time, and this was when she joined the track team. This bled over into other activities, and soon she was constantly active, the muscles in her arms and legs becoming toned and her skin becoming tanned from all that time outside, under the Oregon sun. She ran and played soccer and sometimes basket- or volleyball. In the summer she spent hours every week at the community pool. Always in motion, Mel was able to drown the unrest raging within her.

This, too, was the time when she built up her instinct, though it had always been somewhat ingrained and natural. With a single mom working all the time, and now a younger brother, Mel had had to learn to take care of herself. It wasn't for lack of care or attentiveness on her mother's part, but in Vanorah's fight to keep the family afloat, it was often necessary for her daughter to become quite independent.

As Mel grew older, her home situation became more stable, and she more sure of herself with age, but she never lost her built-up stamina, athleticism, or instinct, and least of all her independence.[/reducio][size=125]Year Two: [i]Fearless[/i][/size] [reducio]Let's face it, everyone has their faults. And quite frankly, Melody Westmoore has quite a few of them -but don't tell her I said that! One indisputable thing about her, though, is that the girl is [i]fearless.[/i] She always has been, really, it's just in her nature. When she learned about the magical world and her place in it, and arrived at Ilvermorny for the first time, you would think she'd become less daring because of the surprize and uncertainty. Nope! At that point, she had already faced the shock of a lifetime and so became even less easily spooked. Whether or not this was always a good thing...well, that is up for debate. [i]Reckless, irresponsible,[/i] and [i]hotheaded[/i] are words she often hears tossed around. But nonetheless, Mel takes pride in her courage. She is always the first off the high dive or into the dark cave. If Ilvermorny had superlatives, she'd be named 'most likely to jump out of a plane' (with a parachute on; she may be impulsive but she isn't stupid). The following role-play takes place the summer before her last year of muggle school before Ilvermorny. It is an example of an instance where Mel demonstrated her ingrained fearlessness:

It was dark. [i]Really[/i] dark. 
Mel stared into the trees ahead of her, ignoring the ominous sounds emitting from the woods. It was just a forest; she totally had this in the bag. 

She was at wilderness camp in Portland -where she typically went for part of the summer- about to participate in the Overnight Challenge. The object of the challenge was to spend one night in the forest alone with only a sleeping bag, a box of waterproof matches, a tarp, a nylon cord, a canteen of water, a Swiss army knife, and a few energy bars. There was a camp counselor nearby in case you needed them, of course, but if you interacted with them in any way, you were disqualified. If a camper completed the challenge, they received a medal and their name would be written in Sharpie on the wooden sign hanging in the Mess Hall. Participants had to be ten years old, and have a permission slip signed by a parent. Not many campers attempted the challenge, as it was not generally considered pleasant to freeze your butt off in the woods alone. Only a few kids each summer completed the task. But Mel was confident -no, [i]certain[/i]- she could handle it. She was finally old enough, and this was her year. 

Taking one last glance at her fellow campers lined up to see her off, Mel started into the woods. Great, now that song from that one musical was playing in her head. [i][size=90]'Into the woods, it's time to go, I hate to leave, I have to, though. Into the woods, it's time, and so I must begin my journey...'[/size][/i] Mel shook her head to rid it of the tune, and surveyed her surroundings. She would complete the challenge that most shied away from. With her wits, ingenuity, and fearlessness, so help her the name Melody Westmoore was going on that board. 

An hour later, the girl had managed to set up a makeshift tent by tying the cord between two trees and draping the tarp over it. It wasn't much, but hey, shelter was shelter. She had eaten two of the energy bars, and resolved to save the other two for later. A ring of stones had been assembled to make a firepit, and at the moment, Mel was attempting to start a fire. It was not going well. They made it look so [i]easy[/i] on tv. It wasn't. 
The larger sticks wouldn't catch, and when Mel tried to start small with kindling, the pine needles she lit smoked and fizzled out. Her twig teepee kept collapsing. Ugh! It would be darker soon, and colder. But she couldn't really leave an open fire going while she slept, in the middle of a forest. That was just plain dumb. Still, she would have liked some warmth. A few more fruitless tries with the matches and Mel gave up. 
Settling down into her sleeping bag under the tarp, the girl heard a noise. [i]Crack. Crunch. Craacck. [/i] There was a series of huffs and grunts. That sounded like... Mel quietly poked her head out from her tent. Sure enough, there was a large, furry, brown creature nosing around in her bag, which she'd left outside. A bear. And from the looks of it, it was hungry. (For energy bars, not people). Those were [i]her[/i] bars. She [i]needed[/i] them to survive this brutal frontier. Or at least, to not get really hungry. In hindsight, Mel should have just let the bear have the stupid energy bars. She should not have lunged out from behind the tarp and started waving her arms around and yelling. But Mel is a girl of quick, sometimes impetuous decisions. And that is just what she did.

Without fear, riding an adrenaline surge, Mel confronted the creature. The bear made a few whining sounds and batted a paw around in the air. Mel ducked it. The bear stood up on their hind legs and stared Mel down. It didn't seem particularly hostile, but to Mel, that thing was freaking Godzilla. With a last few grunts it took one of the bars in its mouth and lumbered away. 
Mel had done it. She still had all of her limbs intact and one precious energy bar, untouched. It may have been a rash action, but it had worked out all right. (This event did nothing for the girl's ego.) [i]Wow, if this kind of thing happens often,[/i] Mel thought, [i]then the camp must have one heck of a law team. [/i]

She ate the last bar as a reward, and settled back down into her sleeping bag. The next morning, she'd have quite the story to tell.[/reducio][/quote]
[quote][center][size=125][u]= Extracurricular =[/u][/size][/center]
[center]Quidditch Player[/center][/quote][quote][/quote]

PENDING - July 14th (edits due by July 21st)

Stats have been updated and trunk code has been used, minus the Fearless ability

Fearless application - Roleplaying your specific sorting ceremony at Ilvermorny is not allowed in this case. You must remain vague when referencing events at your iNPC's school, because it impacts others and we do not allow roleplaying at other schools, including in ability applications. Please edit your application accordingly.

@Hjørdis Jensen

Alright, thank you! That makes a lot of sense. Edit made.

July 18th - please add to your Fearless application more details on how exactly Melody proved to be fearless during her camp activity. It reads as her undergoing the night feeling confident, but doesn't really describe any particular moments of her being fearless. Please include at least a few lines on how she may have encountered a challenge that would have scared others but didn't scare her, or any other particular instance of fearlessness.

@Hjørdis Jensen

Ok, thanks! Sorry about that. Hopefully I did it right this time.

APPROVED - fearless ability approved and added on top of all other updates

update! - lucietta adaleigh thea mahler

Name | Lucietta Mahler
Link | x
Year | Second
Stats |
stamina. 8 (+1)
evasion. 9
strength. 2
wisdom. 6 (+2)
arcane power. 5
accuracy. 10 (+2)
Abilities | Calming Presence (first year), Intercept (second year tba)
Extracurricular | Quidditch / Chaser
Coding |

Reducio

Code: Select all

[quote][center][img]/images/upload/edqyt0.webp[/img][/center][quote][left][b][i][size=125]statistics[/size][/i][/b]
──────
[sta [b]8[/b]][color=transparent]=====[/color][str [b]2[/b]][color=transparent]======[/color][arc [b]5[/b]][color=transparent]=====[/color]
[color=transparent]=====[/color][eva [b]9[/b]][color=transparent]=====[/color][wis [b]6[/b]][color=transparent]======[/color][acc [b]10[/b]][/left][/quote][quote][right][b][i][size=125]abilities[/size][/i][/b]
──────
[b][i]calming presence[/i][/b][reducio]Lucietta was one rarely to ever get angry or mad. In fact, it was very important in her beliefs to solve conflicts by talking it out rather than arguing further or disagreeing with each other (except for that one time Finn stepped on her sketchbook, but that's a story for another day). In the many opinions of Lucietta, you could search for hours, but you might never come upon 'one with a temper'. The Mahlers, however, were one of the most uptight families you might encounter, but Lucietta is quite different from the rest of her family. Perhaps it is her determination to be stray away from her family's beliefs, or perhaps it was just how the girl naturally was - a gentle, kind person.

Lucietta was always one to try. It might be class or activities, but most notably it was the way she talked and interacted with others. Though not obvious, Lucietta cared greatly about these moments, not how the others thought of her, but if she had affected them negatively in any way. Lucietta prides herself on being a personage of the qualities she was most accounted for. Being a light for others, not for the glory of so, but for the hope that she could lead them out - one sentence that could easily be used to describe Lucietta.

One of the best Lucietta's best qualities, in truth, was her optimism and hope. Lucietta has never been pessimistic, and believes strongly that anything can be possible, and that everyone has an important purpose in their life. Lucietta can be quite an asset if you ever need a helpful hand or just a bit more encouragement. While these qualities of Lucietta had never been noticed before by the girl as some obvious or clear aura or effect she had on others, the girl did indeed have some sort of calming effect on them. Lucietta might not be amazing, or brilliant, or the best person you were ever to meet, but Lucietta didn't need those titles. The positivity and optimism Lucietta carried around with her was enough for her, and if she could use that to her advantage to help and encourage others, to help them better focus on their magic or even tasks in particular, well, that was an added bonus.

All in all, Lucietta was a person with high hopes and dreams who tried her best to encourage and help others, and that feeling often spread to others. Whether this made her an extraordinary human being or not, Lucietta didn't mind much. She just wanted to be one to be able to help others.[/reducio][b][i]intercept[/i][/b][color=transparent]=========[/color][reducio][/reducio][/right][/quote][quote][left][b][i][size=125]extracurricular[/size][/i][/b]
──────
quidditch - chaser[/quote]

APPROVED - Stat update has been approved, trunk code updated. Intercept has not been approved because there was no ability application written. You need to get an application in by the end of July 14th (in a new post in this thread) if you want that added to your character.

@Solomon Lear, a few weeks ago I asked how/when the remaining quidditch players could apply for the positions left, and you said:

From Solomon Lear for Calypso Starling,
2 Jun 2021, 08:29
iNPC Quidditch Positions

I will be opening things back up with updates in a few weeks as I prepare for the summer.

I assume this is it? Pardon me if I am doing this wrong. I would like to apply for either first-string seeker or, if that is unavailable, second-string chaser, as my iNPC Melody Westmoore. Thank you!

Noted - I can't guarantee a quidditch position but making a note of this.

NPC name: Amelie Fontaine
Link: Here
Year: Third
Stats: Altering stats for graduation to third year.

Stamina: 7 > 8
Evasion: 9
Strength: 4
Wisdom: 6 > 8
Arc Power: 6 > 7
Accuracy: 8 > 9

Abilities: Adding third year ability – Sixth Sense.

Reducio

After the accident which caused the wretched scar across her face, and the subsequent years of torment she’d received because of it, Amelie had become quite adept at sensing danger. Even the most inconsequential thing seemed to alert the young girl – whether it was a stray quaffle on the quidditch pitch or her next assailant attempting to sneak up on her. It had gotten to the point that those trying to insult or attack her had given up all pretences of stealth and simply elected for more direct and obvious routes of torture. Either that or forming a group large enough that even if she did sense them coming, she’d be unable to evade all of them. The point was, she was observant, more so than most, and it meant she was always noticing things which seemed even the slightest out of place.

“Mom, your shoelace is fraying, would you like me to fix it?” She’d asked one day over the summer when they’d been preparing for the extended family to come over. It had been niggling at her ever since her mother had walked outside with a large bowl of punch in her arms and that delicate smile which the woman always seemed to wear. Her mother had glanced down, eyes slightly widened as she registered that her shoelace was in fact beginning to fray. She’d voiced her surprise at ‘how on earth did you see that Mellie’ as Amelie had knelt at her feet and begun fixing the offending lace.

“I think something is wrong with her,” Amelie pouted as her fingers ran through the shaggy coat of the family dog who other than being slightly lethargic, showed no difference in behaviour than he did any other day. But Amelie felt something when she looked into his dark eyes, something which fixed below her hands where they lay in his fur.

“Here you go again, Psychic Sandra,” Her brother had teased, ruffling her hair in a similar way to how she was petting the dog. Her pout only deepened. Still, her mother took the dog to the no-maj vet, just to see. But there was nothing to find other than an “I told you so.” Her mother working with magical creatures, so even though they’d been given the clear, she looked out for any signs of illness to appear. It was three days later that they realised the dog had accidentally eaten one of the dragon treats Amelie’s mother had brought home from work, resulting in the unfortunate of constant hiccups. Nothing a simple healing potion couldn’t fix.

Despite being Pure Bloods, with both of Amelie’s parents being raised purely around the magical, the Fontaine family liked to partake in many a no-maj ritual. A way to teach the children that those without magic had struggles different to their own and that they had ways around their lack of magic. For example, despite not having access to it in their own home, both Amelie and her brother had been introduced to the internet and no-maj telephones in case they were ever in a situation where they couldn’t use their magic and needed help. Or how they all cooked as a family, homemade recipes which took time and effort with every vegetable chopped by hand and each egg cracked individually. Perhaps one of the most mundane things they did was hanging the washing out to dry without the help of a drying charm or heating spell to speed up the process. Amelie’s mother had once remarked that it left the laundry with a fresher smell – untainted by magic. She’d laughed at the time though perhaps understood it now.

It was on a bright Thursday afternoon after her mother had hung the washing out to dry that Amelie felt a tickle just behind her right ear. Over the years she’d come to know what a few of her strange ticks meant – like how her nose twitching meant she was being watched, an itching palm was good luck, and how a tickled behind your right ear meant a storm was brewing. She’d been quick to tell her mom it was going to rain and had helped her bring in the laundry despite her mother’s hesitance considering the still bright sun in the sky. Not five minutes after they’d finishing packing up did the heavens open.

Things like this just always seemed to happen to Amelie, she just noticed. She had a sense for things, or so her mother often told her. And even though more often than not it was a curse more than a blessing – that she saw faults in everyday life which she herself couldn’t fix or to other seemed too inconsequential to change – she knew that it had also saved her on more than one occasion.

Extracurricular: Can Amelie’s be altered from duellist to broom racer as I didn’t realise the PC and iNPC couldn’t be the same. Sorry for the confusion.
Trunk Coding: In this pastebin.

APPROVED - New stats and new ability approved, trunk code used, changed to broom racer.

NPC Name: Everett Brooks
Link: Accio Link!
Year: 3rd Year
Stats: +3 to ArcPower & +2 to Wisdom
Stamina || 10
Evasion || 8
Strength || 6
Wisdom || 9
ArcPower || 8
Accuracy || 7
Abilities:
Perfectionist

Reducio

Everett felt lucky that he grew up in a household that always pushed him to succeed, but not to any degree that caused him an unneeded amount of stress. He was allowed to still be a kid, to mess up every now and again, with constant encouragement to try better the next time. It felt right that he ended up in the house of the Horned Serpent, the house of the mind and of scholars. It was a continuation of that encouragement to succeed, to always be doing better.

While studying by the book was more his speed, his essays and speeches alike being his specialty besides spellcasting, as a wizard he knew the importance of doing well in his practical studies too. When he wasn't reading or writing, he was practicing. He took diligent notes in class about everything about a spell. While some saw the etymology of a spell as useless in casting, he saw it as another bit of information to help him perform the spell perfectly. Sure, he did love learning etymology in general, but he approached spell learning with a type of respect towards the craft.

If anyone were to catch him, he would vehemently deny giving his wand a little pep talk before practice session. But his wand was his instrument of success, and his parents emphasized how important keeping a good relationship with your wand was, as if it was its own sentient entity. Every part of his spellwork took patience and dedication. There was no part that was undervalued, no part that was skipped. If he was in a rush to practice he didn't practice at all, for a rushed practice was practically useless to him. There was a mindset that was involved, a deep breath, and practicing the components separately. The incantation, the wand movement, the concentration, then all together.

By no means was he a particularly naturally gifted spellcaster, it is why he practiced so hard outside of his studies. Something many of his friends didn't really even know about him. It wasn't something he was ashamed of, but it was something that he cherished in his private life.
The countless hours of practice he would put into spells made backfires rarely happen. A well practiced headspace of his craft, muscles that had memorized every wand movement he had learned so far. To his classmates he seemed like a flawless natural, but he and his family knew just how much work he constantly put into his studies to succeed and fly above the rest of his class.

Word Count || 427

Paragon of Health

Reducio

The young Horned Serpent was a keen people watcher. He quite enjoyed relaxing in a public area by himself to watch the others around him. His mom and himself quite enjoyed doing it during the hot Georgia summers, either at cafes or the occasional beach trip. While they did talk, she taught him how to notice different things about people. To look at a whole person, their movements, the way they stood, the look in their eyes, where they were looking. He valued his time with his mom and felt like that time with her helped him now in Ilvermorny. While he was absolutely a novice at reading people since he was still... well a child at heart. Sometimes he believed the best in people when they would later lead them astray.

This keen skill of observation had turned into something else in his time at Ilvermorny. An aura of control over a situation, of calm and assuredness, surrounded him. Even in a group of Hogdorks during a Wizard Chess Combat, he stayed calm and alert as the Princess Queen. Despite one of his compatriots being constantly set on fire. He had taken the role of firefighter, putting her out as needed. Staying aware of who needed assistance. Who was moving as if they were injured, did someone need just some emotional motivation. He certainly was not winning any awards for extraordinary kindness, but when he was with people he knew he needed to take care of he would. It was something that always made him wish that he had younger siblings, people to take care of from a young age so he could've harnessed this skill at an earlier age. With parents by his side all of his life there was really no need for it. But Ilvermorny had changed him for the better, and going into his third year he was getting better and better at being competent for others.

In times of stress or strife he was there for the people that he cared for, they could trust him to be the one that was hypervigilant, in control. Inside he would be stressed out of his mind, panicking at trying to maintain a collected composition to lead everyone to safety, or to victory. But it was a burden he happily took upon his shoulders. It was something that made him feel capable, like the leader that he was meant to be.

If you were by his side you were taken care of and that was a fact.

Word Count || 421

Extracurricular: Broom Racer
Content Changes: No Content Changes
Trunk Coding: The new ability RP's have already been added to the code.

Reducio

Code: Select all

[quote][img]/images/upload/2u43fs.webp[/img][/quote]
[quote][center][b]|| Stats ||[/b]
♢ Stamina 10 ♢ Evasion 8 ♢ Strength 6 ♢ Wisdom 9 ♢ ArcPower 8 ♢ Accuracy 7 ♢
[revelio]+2 Points for Quidditch Win, +1 Point for Duelling Win[/revelio]
[b]|| Extracurricular ||[/b]
♢ Broom Racer ♢[/quote]
[quote][quote][b]♢ 1st Year Ability ♢ Charmer ♢[/b]
[reducio]It was no secret in the US that the South was known for their charm and hospitality. This didn't stop when it came to Everett. In his pureblood family they had raised him from an early age to be an exemplary practitioner of this. There was no lady that would open her own door around him, no person to be left unescorted if they needed assistance wherever they needed to go. He was quite the, well... charmer. 

His smile left grandmas pinching his cheeks, and girls his age developing the cutest of young crushes on him. Although, he always had to politely turn them down due to his early discovery of his gayness. It really didn't come as surprise to anybody around him and he was lucky to be in a supportive environment, but generally he was still in the closet for the most part in his town. This almost added to his charm, the unattainable preppy boy. People tried to get him to crack, to be his first girlfriend, but they never succeeded and they always seemed to leave feeling dazed by his soft words and silver tongue. He was a horned serpent after all. 

In addition to his training in politeness and grace, he also spent unending hours in his families library, reading anything that he could get his hands on. Which wasn't hard, his library was huge and he was lucky enough to have the wealth that could get him any additional book at the snap of his fingers. This only lent a hand when it came to Everett's smooth talking and expansive vocabulary. Romance novels taught him to be suave, how to pull a girl in. Granted, they were adult tactics that he had to mold to suit his childish desires. A signature of his was greeting someone new with a kiss upon their hand if they let him. No gender was safe from this greeting, he believed anyone should get the joy of being pulled in by him. Not just the ladies.

Everett already had a pretty big ego for someone his age. Growing up with people around him giving him such high praise for such little things gave him the confidence he needed to glide through life without a care. Granted, he was learning the hard way that he could definitely trip up and fail in making relationships with others. Learning how to interact had been a slippery slope, but even then he managed to charm his way out of nearly every awkward situation. Or, if all else failed, just never spoke to that person again.
[right][i]Word Count || 432[/i][/right][/reducio][/quote]
[quote][b]♢ 2nd Year Ability ♢ Perfectionist ♢[/b]
[reducio]Everett felt lucky that he grew up in a household that always pushed him to succeed, but not to any degree that caused him an unneeded amount of stress. He was allowed to still be a kid, to mess up every now and again, with constant encouragement to try better the next time. It felt right that he ended up in the house of the Horned Serpent, the house of the mind and of scholars. It was a continuation of that encouragement to succeed, to always be doing better. 

While studying by the book was more his speed, his essays and speeches alike being his specialty besides spellcasting, as a wizard he knew the importance of doing well in his practical studies too. When he wasn't reading or writing, he was practicing. He took diligent notes in class about everything about a spell. While some saw the etymology of a spell as useless in casting, he saw it as another bit of information to help him perform the spell perfectly. Sure, he did love learning etymology in general, but he approached spell learning with a type of respect towards the craft. 

If anyone were to catch him, he would vehemently deny giving his wand a little pep talk before practice session. But his wand was his instrument of success, and his parents emphasized how important keeping a good relationship with your wand was, as if it was its own sentient entity. Every part of his spellwork took patience and dedication. There was no part that was undervalued, no part that was skipped. If he was in a rush to practice he didn't practice at all, for a rushed practice was practically useless to him. There was a mindset that was involved, a deep breath, and practicing the components separately. The incantation, the wand movement, the concentration, then all together. 

By no means was he a particularly naturally gifted spellcaster, it is why he practiced so hard outside of his studies. Something many of his friends didn't really even know about him. It wasn't something he was ashamed of, but it was something that he cherished in his private life. 
The countless hours of practice he would put into spells made backfires rarely happen. A well practiced headspace of his craft, muscles that had memorized every wand movement he had learned so far. To his classmates he seemed like a flawless natural, but he and his family knew just how much work he constantly put into his studies to succeed and fly above the rest of his class.
[right][i]Word Count[/i] || 427[/right][/reducio][/quote]
[quote][b]♢ 3rd Year Ability ♢ Paragon of Health ♢[/b]
[reducio]The young Horned Serpent was a keen people watcher. He quite enjoyed relaxing in a public area by himself to watch the others around him. His mom and himself quite enjoyed doing it during the hot Georgia summers, either at cafes or the occasional beach trip. While they did talk, she taught him how to notice different things about people. To look at a whole person, their movements, the way they stood, the look in their eyes, where they were looking. He valued his time with his mom and felt like that time with her helped him now in Ilvermorny. While he was absolutely a novice at reading people since he was still... well a child at heart. Sometimes he believed the best in people when they would later lead them astray. 

This keen skill of observation had turned into something else in his time at Ilvermorny. An aura of control over a situation, of calm and assuredness, surrounded him. Even in a group of Hogdorks during a Wizard Chess Combat, he stayed calm and alert as the [s]Princess[/s] Queen.  Despite one of his compatriots being constantly set on fire. He had taken the role of firefighter, putting her out as needed. Staying aware of who needed assistance. Who was moving as if they were injured, did someone need just some emotional motivation. He certainly was not winning any awards for extraordinary kindness, but when he was with people he knew he needed to take care of he would. It was something that always made him wish that he had younger siblings, people to take care of from a young age so he could've harnessed this skill at an earlier age. With parents by his side all of his life there was really no need for it. But Ilvermorny had changed him for the better, and going into his third year he was getting better and better at being competent for others.

In times of stress or strife he was there for the people that he cared for, they could trust him to be the one that was hypervigilant, in control. Inside he would be stressed out of his mind, panicking at trying to maintain a collected composition to lead everyone to safety, or to victory. But it was a burden he happily took upon his shoulders. It was something that made him feel capable, like the leader that he was meant to be. 

If you were by his side you were taken care of and that was a fact.
[right][i]Word Count[/i] || 421[/right][/reducio][/quote][/quote]

APPROVED - New stats and new abilities approved, trunk code used

Name: Karilyna Kawahara
Link: here!
Year: Rising third year
Stats:
Stat additions from graduation to fourth year (Thora): +3 evasion; +2 accuracy
Stat addition from Quidditch victory [x] (Thora): +1 stamina

New stats: 9Sta | 10Eva | 1Str | 11Wis | 10Arc | 12Acc
↳ total = 53 (equal to fourth year stat count + 3 from Thora's Quidditch victories)
Abilities: adding Spell Spread and Perfectionist
03. Spell Spread

Reducio

There was absolutely no question at all that Karilyna Kawahara had always possessed a flair for the dramatic - and to an almost hazardous extent, at that. Whether it was hyperbole in speech, drama in expression, or exaggeration in, well, everything, she wore the trait with pride and as such, it ought to be no surprise. As a child, perhaps this had been her way of generating grandeur, the only way she could inflate her image just enough so that it was somewhat significant, not merely one of the tiny child she was. Perhaps this was one of the only ways she'd found herself able to draw attention to herself, being the naughty little attention-hungry child she was, or stand out from the crowd rather than be lost within it, hidden from view by the taller kids, the smarter kids, the more athletic kids, the more talented kids.

And it most certainly had been. Little primary-school Karilyna would be far too oblivious to realize even her own motives in being excessively dramatic, but any discerning soul would be able to see through the weak façade, the falsely exaggerated front she often put on to hide her insecurities. But as time passed, drama was no longer just something she pasted atop her true self. As she grew older, time flying by, it had merged with the rest of her character, morphing and settling to become one of the most prominent parts of it.

That pattern, though, had seemed to have broken temporarily with dueling; she had focused for some time on increasing the sheer power of her spell, leaving her with little time to add flourishes and whatnot. After all, drama was not the goal, but rather spellcasting - and for once, she didn't exactly mind. The little Thunderbird had been a duelist for barely a year, and yet she had already proved herself to be truly exceptional, quickly earning a name in Ilvermorny's world of dueling. Her first duel, a part of the previous year's Chess Combat, had had her under considerably high pressure as she'd been her team's queen, but still, she had performed quite well, coming away completely unscathed and having landed a significant number of her own spells.

She'd returned to Ilvermorny as a second year the following September, itching to join her school's dueling program with unusual fervor. Surprisingly, her aspiration had always been to play Quidditch as seeker, as she was of the typical build and had always loved to fly, but that had changed the moment she began to duel, the moment the adrenaline began rushing through her as she clutched her wand, ready to shoot off her first spell. So, the day she officially earned the label of duelist, she had began to train like she never had before. She threw herself into it, finally having found a passion.

Such an experience had changed her somewhat; although she had by no means lost her love of fun - in fact, it'd probably intensified - nor had her spontaneous personality diminished, Karilyna suddenly became someone who sought after spell-related learning. See, she was a little picky like that: although she still found a vast majority of her schooling pointless and mundane, she'd always immediately perk up when a spell of any sort, from simple charms to the most impressive hexes, were mentioned. After all, if she was to be a good duelist, she needed as many spells under her belt as she could get. Further, a good portion of her free time was converted to practice time, the girl wanting to put forth extra effort to make sure she could maintain consistency and was always sharp. And lastly of all, she made a point to attend every single duel that occurred, as watching others - particularly the more experienced duelists - duel tended to offer her greater insight on how to improve.

Although Karilyna was inclined to consider herself brilliant already, each duel brought a new sense of knowledge that there was more to be learned. Most of all, she was impressed by the advanced spells older students were capable of, their effects dazzling the young girl. But that all changed the first time she watched as a duelist managed to hit two opponents with a single spell, the light diverging perfectly and the effects doubled. That- that was possible? Karilyna's brown eyes had grown wide, sparkling with anticipation, and from that moment on, she knew: she had to figure out how to master such a skill. Not only was it impressive, but it was a fancy little bit of additional flair, something she knew would bring her typical drama to the dueling stage.

And try she certainly did, experimenting with her formerly self-named signature spell, Flipendo. In itself, it was a simple little spell, and one which first years should've been capable of. Nothing about it was inherently difficult nor impressive, but she'd cast it repeatedly in her Chess Combat duel, inadvertently turning it into her signature. She first attempted to adjust the incantation and wand movement, respectively, which turned out to be an absolutely terrible idea. Obviously, she hadn't had the brains to remember that both aspects of spellcasting had to be just perfect to guarantee a perfect cast, and that failing to recognize this would cause negative results. And of course, the process involved several backfires as well, all of which left a dazed - but not discouraged - Karilyna wondering why she hadn't had the foresight to choose a less damaging spell.

She turned next to the mental aspect of spellcasting, changing her degree of focus (also a stupid idea) and later trying to diverge her focus to match the spell, neither of which granted her the desired effect. It was funny, the things Karilyna thought herself capable of which weren't at all realistic. Disappointment had finally began to set in, though the naturally optimistic girl would attempt to fight it off… until one day, it finally worked. She wasn't sure what exactly had done the trick, as it'd mostly been a product of her channeling her frustration into a laser-focused spell with all the might she could muster (a surprisingly large amount, given her stature), but whatever the case, she'd finally done it. The fact that it added a considerable amount of pizzazz to her spells was a huge bonus as well, the additional dramatic factor immediately appealing to the girl. It did take several tries more for her to gain any degree of consistency, as the feat surely came at the cost of ease and the increased chance of disaster, but the fact didn't faze her.

Of course, the truth was that she was still inexperienced and in need of practice, despite her tendency to deny it, but the fact that she'd mastered such a skill had impressed even her, especially given how quickly she'd caught on. She was wise enough to understand that she would have to continue working towards perfection, but that was something she had long since accepted. And if that was the cost to becoming exceptional, to being an undeniably standout duelist, she would willingly endure the grind.

WC: 1194/400

04. Perfectionist

Reducio

Never in her life had Karilyna considered herself perfect. Undoubtedly, self-esteem had never been an issue and in fact, she tended to be quite the proud little girl, but perfect had always been off of her radar, a state that was simply unattainable. Her grades had always been average, her athletic ability mediocre and artistic capability on slightly less so, and she'd always settled for being normal. Sure, she would try in vain to make herself something of a standout with the chaotic, vibrant personality she'd built up over time, but never had she particularly tried to be exceptional - hey, not everyone got to be special. She fared better at Ilvermorny, interest in some of the subjects spurring her to make uncharacteristically large efforts, but still, perfection was never in reach, nor was it a goal of hers.

But then she began to duel, and she quickly realized - in her very first duel, even - that simply being okay, being mediocre, wouldn't cut it. To cross over from decent to excellent required accuracy, consistency, and most of all, perfection. Of course, everyone made mistakes from time to time, although the frequency lessened with experience, but Karilyna knew achieving perfection would be a crucial step in mastering her art and passion. It'd also reduce the possibility of a spell backfiring, which, as she knew from more experience than she'd like to admit, was quite painful, especially given the sheer force she tended to channel into each spell. And so, she practiced.

For one of the first times, quality was substituted for quantity. In each practice session, whether alone or in the presence of others, the girl had finally curbed her habit of attempting to shoot off as many spells as she was capable of in quick succession, perpetually locked in an imaginary, single-person competition of speed. Such a game was for the young and inexperienced; Karilyna knew now that speed - that was, in terms of spellcasting alone - was not the ultimate goal. Rather, she shifted her focus to the incantation and wand movements, intent on clarity in every syllable and preciseness in every swish, in every little flourish.

She even began applying her efforts to every opportunity possible, from individual dueling practice to working on the spells she'd learnt in class to ensure that her arsenal was the most formidable she could make it. It was a time-consuming and arduous process, as there was a need to balance reaction time and spell accuracy, but she doggedly worked towards her goal, unwilling to let up until she achieved it.

So here she was, months later: a duelist of one year and considerably seasoned for a student her age. Hours upon hours of practice had brought improvement in all aspects, from agility, to concentration, to accuracy, and most of all, to her ability to successfully cast spells. Now, rarely did her spells ever backfire, and even if they missed her target, her wand would react in recognition of success. Occasionally, there would be a slipup - typically brought about by distraction, as she'd never really been one easily unnerved - but still, she was quite satisfied with how far she'd come. She'd never expected complete perfection from herself, anyway.

See, at the end of the day, perfection was really a distant destination, one at the end of a very, very long - and many would deem it infinite - road. It wasn't realistically attainable, but surely one could get close, and Karilyna was well on her way to doing so in terms of dueling. After all, perfection would never be absolute, and at least for now, each spell was the very best she could make it.

WC: 617/400

Extracurricular: duelist [already approved]
Content Changes: none
Trunk Coding: just replace the current code with everything below, please! Most existing information has been replaced with that which I'm applying for to ensure clarity and completely updated information. Thank you!

Code: Select all

[quote][center][quote][size=150][b]trunk[/b][/size][/quote][/center]
[quote][size=110][b]statistics[/b][/size]
9sta・10eva・1str・11wis・10arc・12acc
[color=transparent]=[/color]↳ +3 from Thora's Quidditch wins[/quote]
[quote][size=110][b]abilities[/b][/size]
y1. fearless[reducio]Karilyna did not appear to amount to much. Barely four feet and five inches tall, her stature alone was enough to get her overlooked. Her general dislike of learning anything that did not involve action often resulted in an ignorant front, and as a result, assignments from tedious subjects in her eyes--especially Potions--were often returned with a less-than-passing grade. Such a sight would probably have brought a wave of shame to many, but to the young girl, it didn't matter much.

One wouldn't have to look far to see that Karilyna was practically made for Thunderbird. Filled with wanderlust and an insatiable curiosity, it was hard for even her to imagine herself anywhere else. But she went farther--much farther--than the stereotypes labeled her. While many belonging to her same house were typically satisfied with adventure, she was more than that. Karilyna was brave, confident, daring--and often reckless. She was fearless.

Strangely enough, the small child's fearlessness was more of a developed skill than a natural trait. Her life had been nothing buttrial after trial, and more pain than someone her age should've experienced. It would've been perfectly reasonable, perfectly rational, for her to be paranoid--surely people could've understood a deep distrust, a fear of danger, or a desire to run from anything that could result in any sort of hurt. And honestly, at times, it was hard for Karilyna to fight down such feelings, as there was no way she could live unaffected by her past. But years of carefully tucking away emotions and continuing on with a carefully mischievous smile on her face had paid off. It was hard to faze her.

Orphaned at the age of two, she'd ended up living in America for most of her life, hence her attending Ilvermorny rather than Mahoutokoro, which would've been the default for witches in Japan, where she'd been born. But the forced move across the ocean had been more than a grand adventure, or a beginning of a journey for the young Karilyna. It had meant being forever separated from the country she'd only learned to call home, instead having to fend for herself in a place where she did not know the language and had no relatives. It had been a huge task to ask of a toddler, and just plain scary, but even at the age of two, she'd faced it with a bright smile and the attitude of one undaunted.

Then came her adoptive parents forcing her to attend Muggle school. Now a little older and quite aware of her wizarding background, Karilyna understood perfectly what it meant. It meant being bullied for a still-prevalent accent. It meant control to keep from doing or saying anything that might reveal wizardry in any way--an immense amount of control that she lacked. It meant being tossed into a culture she was unfamiliar with, and still being expected to keep up with the bigger, smarter kids who'd already been in school for a few years. When finally, she was sent off to her first day of school, Muggle façade complete and immaculate, she went. That wasn't to say she liked it, for there was some serious resentment the girl still harbored about the fact, but she simply would not back down. Fear was something that had to be faced.

While intrepid, Karilyna had never been an exceptionally bright child. Both factors likely contributed to the fact that she never failed to get herself into scrapes. Whether it was insolence or a snide remark to a sensitive classmate, a scraped up cheek from a senseless careening down a hill on a bike, or a black eye from sidewalk scuffles, she seemed to always be somehow injured--a fact that never ceased to annoy her adoptive parents. Although the girl herself couldn't deny that it hurt sometimes, she'd learned to deal with the pain, and not to fear it.

It wasn't always just a lack of logic that drove her to such lengths, though. Beneath the stupid bravery laid an intense loyalty, and while she was physically weak and tiny, she would do whatever she could to protect her friends--she'd take a concussion, two black eyes, broken bones, anything. So, due to constant efforts to make sure that the people she cared for were not hurt, her fearlessness would be made quite apparent--like scrambling up trees to help out friends, only to fall out herself. Because after all, she couldn't just go about her life. She had to show the world that Karilyna Kawahara was fearless.

Of course, she had not simply moved on from a rocky early childhood unaffected, but while those events could've very well broken her, Karilyna let them build her. To make her stronger. Sure, there would be hard times, and she of all people could understand that life wasn't easy, but her past experiences had only made her bolder. She would command her fears, not give in. She would face them head on.[/reducio]y2. terrible presence[reducio]Looks could be awfully deceiving. At the surface, Karilyna was a small girl with rather large brown eyes, and appeared thoroughly American in accent and mannerisms. (Of course, she'd been born in Japan, but nine years of living in America had certainly had its effect.) If one knew her well, they'd know that she was an adventurer, as well as more than happy to put classes and grades on the back burner for something more exciting. Personality-wise, the raven-haired girl was friendly, loyal, and a good friend--if one didn't mind her accidental bluntness. But through it all, there was a very different presence. Something that seemed wrong. It was dark, chilling, and almost sinister.

Now, Karilyna was not at all evil. Though she was often outspoken and sometimes rude, there was nothing inherently malevolent about her. The darkness was hard to place, almost like an ever-changing shadow that was simply there. Even though it had never been very obvious--not even to Karilyna herself--it had always been about her. But nobody had ever called it out.

It'd all begun--like pretty much every other remotely major event in her life--when she'd been orphaned. Though she had been almost impossibly cheerful about the whole situation, there seemed to always be a monster trying to break free from within. At a young age, loneliness had been a prevalent issue for Karilyna. Being alone only brought reality crashing down on her, slowly untying the bonds that kept all the emotions bottled up inside. It made her angry and fearful at the same time, yet craving revenge on whatever force had just about robbed her of a proper childhood. A lot of times, there would be a slight shift in mood. Literally. The darkness would ultimately prevail, even if it was for just a moment, and something about her simply wouldn't feel right.

There had been plenty of things in the girl's life about which she didn't understand. But it was in the little misfortunate happenings where you could see at least part of the reason behind it. It had always appeared to Karilyna that people liked her and wanted to become her friend, for she'd never had difficulty gathering a group of people she trusted. And in a way, it was true—she was quite the outgoing child, always willing to include people and extend an arm where it was needed. It was hard not to like her. But what she didn't notice was the equal number of people--if not more--that distanced themselves from her, and sometimes even made conscious efforts to do so. Perhaps her charm simply didn't extend that far, or…there was something that didn't exactly seem right about interacting with her.

When people neared her, it was an almost-tangible feeling of something like fear that would hit them, appearing to roll off the Thunderbird. It tended to take people by surprise, and pushed them to give her a wide berth. Children--particularly her equals--would typically feel uncomfortable around her, a dark something settling in the pit of their stomach. A feeling they couldn't put a name to. Some were able to simply ignore this, choosing to enjoy Karilyna's company while conveniently pushing it away, but a few others were quite frankly afraid of the underlying presence. While in Muggle school, she'd seen all of these types of people, yet not understanding why they did what they did. She was bullied by some who chose to cover up their fear with a rude and aggressive front, and saw schoolmates who literally ran away, wanting to avoid contact with her at all costs. It was a shame, really, that this was true, for it was all a result of what she was keeping to herself.

See, of course Karilyna disliked the fact that people would choose to avoid her, or that there always seemed a tiger wanting to break loose in the loss and hurt she hid away in the back of her mind, even from herself, but the truth was, it was there. True, it was irritating, but she could be strong. She had to be.[/reducio]y3. spell spread[reducio]There was absolutely no question at all that Karilyna Kawahara had always possessed a flair for the dramatic - and to an almost hazardous extent, at that. Whether it was hyperbole in speech, drama in expression, or exaggeration in, well, everything, she wore the trait with pride and as such, it ought to be no surprise. As a child, perhaps this had been her way of generating grandeur, the only way she could inflate her image just enough so that it was somewhat significant, not merely one of the tiny child she was. Perhaps this was one of the only ways she'd found herself able to draw attention to herself, being the naughty little attention-hungry child she was, or stand out from the crowd rather than be lost within it, hidden from view by the taller kids, the smarter kids, the more athletic kids, the more talented kids.

And it most certainly had been. Little primary-school Karilyna would be far too oblivious to realize even her own motives in being excessively dramatic, but any discerning soul would be able to see through the weak façade, the falsely exaggerated front she often put on to hide her insecurities. But as time passed, drama was no longer just something she pasted atop her true self. As she grew older, time flying by, it had merged with the rest of her character, morphing and settling to become one of the most prominent parts of it.

That pattern, though, had seemed to have broken temporarily with dueling; she had focused for some time on increasing the sheer power of her spell, leaving her with little time to add flourishes and whatnot. After all, drama was not the goal, but rather spellcasting - and for once, she didn't exactly mind. The little Thunderbird had been a duelist for barely a year, and yet she had already proved herself to be truly exceptional, quickly earning a name in Ilvermorny's world of dueling. Her first duel, a part of the previous year's Chess Combat, had had her under considerably high pressure as she'd been her team's queen, but still, she had performed quite well, coming away completely unscathed and having landed a significant number of her own spells.

She'd returned to Ilvermorny as a second year the following September, itching to join her school's dueling program with unusual fervor. Surprisingly, her aspiration had always been to play Quidditch as seeker, as she was of the typical build and had always loved to fly, but that had changed the moment she began to duel, the moment the adrenaline began rushing through her as she clutched her wand, ready to shoot off her first spell. So, the day she officially earned the label of duelist, she had began to train like she never had before. She threw herself into it, finally having found a passion.

Such an experience had changed her somewhat; although she had by no means lost her love of fun - in fact, it'd probably intensified - nor had her spontaneous personality diminished, Karilyna suddenly became someone who sought after spell-related learning. See, she was a little picky like that: although she still found a vast majority of her schooling pointless and mundane, she'd always immediately perk up when a spell of any sort, from simple charms to the most impressive hexes, were mentioned. After all, if she was to be a good duelist, she needed as many spells under her belt as she could get. Further, a good portion of her free time was converted to practice time, the girl wanting to put forth extra effort to make sure she could maintain consistency and was always sharp. And lastly of all, she made a point to attend every single duel that occurred, as watching others - particularly the more experienced duelists - duel tended to offer her greater insight on how to improve.

Although Karilyna was inclined to consider herself brilliant already, each duel brought a new sense of knowledge that there was more to be learned. Most of all, she was impressed by the advanced spells older students were capable of, their effects dazzling the young girl. But that all changed the first time she watched as a duelist managed to hit two opponents with a single spell, the light diverging perfectly and the effects doubled. That- that was possible? Karilyna's brown eyes had grown wide, sparkling with anticipation, and from that moment on, she knew: she had to figure out how to master such a skill. Not only was it impressive, but it was a fancy little bit of additional flair, something she knew would bring her typical drama to the dueling stage.

And try she certainly did, experimenting with her formerly self-named signature spell, Flipendo. In itself, it was a simple little spell, and one which first years should've been capable of. Nothing about it was inherently difficult nor impressive, but she'd cast it repeatedly in her Chess Combat duel, inadvertently turning it into her signature. She first attempted to adjust the incantation and wand movement, respectively, which turned out to be an absolutely terrible idea. Obviously, she hadn't had the brains to remember that both aspects of spellcasting had to be just perfect to guarantee a perfect cast, and that failing to recognize this would cause negative results. And of course, the process involved several backfires as well, all of which left a dazed - but not discouraged - Karilyna wondering why she hadn't had the foresight to choose a less damaging spell.

She turned next to the mental aspect of spellcasting, changing her degree of focus (also a stupid idea) and later trying to diverge her focus to match the spell, neither of which granted her the desired effect. It was funny, the things Karilyna thought herself capable of which weren't at all realistic. Disappointment had finally began to set in, though the naturally optimistic girl would attempt to fight it off… until one day, it finally worked. She wasn't sure what exactly had done the trick, as it'd mostly been a product of her channeling her frustration into a laser-focused spell with all the might she could muster (a surprisingly large amount, given her stature), but whatever the case, she'd finally done it. The fact that it added a considerable amount of pizzazz to her spells was a huge bonus as well, the additional dramatic factor immediately appealing to the girl. It did take several tries more for her to gain any degree of consistency, as the feat surely came at the cost of ease and the increased chance of disaster, but the fact didn't faze her.

Of course, the truth was that she was still inexperienced and in need of practice, despite her tendency to deny it, but the fact that she'd mastered such a skill had impressed even her, especially given how quickly she'd caught on. She was wise enough to understand that she would have to continue working towards perfection, but that was something she had long since accepted. And if that was the cost to becoming exceptional, to being an undeniably standout duelist, she would willingly endure the grind.[/reducio]y4. perfectionist[reducio]Never in her life had Karilyna considered herself perfect. Undoubtedly, self-esteem had never been an issue and in fact, she tended to be quite the proud little girl, but perfect had always been off of her radar, a state that was simply unattainable. Her grades had always been average, her athletic ability mediocre and artistic capability on slightly less so, and she'd always settled for being normal. Sure, she would try in vain to make herself something of a standout with the chaotic, vibrant personality she'd built up over time, but never had she particularly tried to be exceptional - hey, not everyone got to be special. She fared better at Ilvermorny, interest in some of the subjects spurring her to make uncharacteristically large efforts, but still, perfection was never in reach, nor was it a goal of hers.

But then she began to duel, and she quickly realized - in her very first duel, even - that simply being okay, being mediocre, wouldn't cut it. To cross over from decent to excellent required accuracy, consistency, and most of all, perfection. Of course, everyone made mistakes from time to time, although the frequency lessened with experience, but Karilyna knew achieving perfection would be a crucial step in mastering her art and passion. It'd also reduce the possibility of a spell backfiring, which, as she knew from more experience than she'd like to admit, was quite painful, especially given the sheer force she tended to channel into each spell. And so, she practiced.

For one of the first times, quality was substituted for quantity. In each practice session, whether alone or in the presence of others, the girl had finally curbed her habit of attempting to shoot off as many spells as she was capable of in quick succession, perpetually locked in an imaginary, single-person competition of speed. Such a game was for the young and inexperienced; Karilyna knew now that speed - that was, in terms of spellcasting alone - was not the ultimate goal. Rather, she shifted her focus to the incantation and wand movements, intent on clarity in every syllable and preciseness in every swish, in every little flourish.

She even began applying her efforts to every opportunity possible, from individual dueling practice to working on the spells she'd learnt in class to ensure that her arsenal was the most formidable she could make it. It was a time-consuming and arduous process, as there was a need to balance reaction time and spell accuracy, but she doggedly worked towards her goal, unwilling to let up until she achieved it.

So here she was, months later: a duelist of one year and considerably seasoned for a student her age. Hours upon hours of practice had brought improvement in all aspects, from agility, to concentration, to accuracy, and most of all, to her ability to successfully cast spells. Now, rarely did her spells ever backfire, and even if they missed her target, her wand would react in recognition of success. Occasionally, there would be a slipup - typically brought about by distraction, as she'd never really been one easily unnerved - but still, she was quite satisfied with how far she'd come. She'd never expected complete perfection from herself, anyway.

See, at the end of the day, perfection was really a distant destination, one at the end of a very, very long - and many would deem it infinite - road. It wasn't realistically attainable, but surely one could get close, and Karilyna was well on her way to doing so in terms of dueling. After all, perfection would never be absolute, and at least for now, each spell was the very best she could make it.[/reducio][/quote]
[quote][size=110][b]extracurricular[/b][/size]
broom racer? no.
quidditch player? no.
duelist? [b]yes.[/b][/quote][/quote]

PENDING - July 14th (edits due by July 21st)

Your abilities and stats are good to go. Your trunk needs to have your ability applications, though, so I will check back here and copy over the code once you have updated it with your applications included.

Thora note (07.15): ability applications are now included in the trunk code! Apologies, I'd previously excluded them to adhere to the standardized trunk rules and didn't realize it was necessary to include them. Thank you!

APPROVED

Trunk
Sta • 6 | Eva • 7 | Str • 4 | Wis • 8 | Acc • 8 | Arc • 7

=====Spells known

Potions known=====

Reducio Cleaning Charm • Scourgify Curse of the Bogies • Mucus ad Nauseam Dancing-Feet Spell • Tarantallegra Extinguishing Charm • Extinguo Fire-Making Spell • Incendio Four-Point Spell • Point Me Glass to Sand Green Sparks Charm • Verdimillious Knockback Jinx • Flipendo Levitation Charm • Wingardium Leviosa Locking Charm • Colloportus Matchbox Transformation Spell • Flintifors Matchstick to Needle • Conmutocus Mending Charm • Reparo Red Spark Charm • Periculum Sauce-Making Spell • Condimentum Smokescreen Spell • Fumos Snail to Teapot • Choclea Bibe Snowflake-Creating Spell • Nix Facitur Umbrella Spell • Pluvia Velo Unlocking Charm • Alohomora Untransfiguration • Reparifarge Wand-Extinguishing Charm • Nox Wand-Lighting Charm • Lumos Whistle to Watch • Tunc Sibilus

Reducio Babbling Beverage Bruise Removal Paste Burn Healing Paste Confusing Concoction Dizziness Draught Dogbreath Potion Muffling Draught Pompion Potion

Abilitie Year 1

Reducio

Fearless
_________________________

I'm not afraid of much. It's weird, my sister and my mother are freaks about life. It's a problem when I get the hiccups. They don't scare me. Some people say I have no reflexes. I think stupid boys who clap their hands in front of people are stupid. I can't help it, it doesn't scare me.
And of course my parents don't know why. So one day they took me to see a specialist. A specialist in fear. First he tested my reflexes: I didn't move. He showed me some pictures that my sister would call creepy: I found them weird. Verdict: I am almost insensitive to fear. If the specialist said "insensitive", it's because according to him, there must be something that will scare me. I don't think so. I think I'm more like my great-great grandmother. I heard she was fearless. I believe in that. But not the others. Well, they're not sure. I am sure and I know it. Like an intuition.
One day we visited an aquarium. There was a long gallery with a glass roof so you could see the fish. My sister was terrified. Even though she is 4 years older than me, I reassured her. Personally, I found this gallery magical. Just because I'm not scared doesn't mean I don't have emotions!
Some people think that when you are fearless, you want to scare everyone and have fun. This is not true. For me. On the contrary, I try to help others to face their fear. Sometimes, it's long and annoying but most of the time, it's conclusive.
There are those who say that fearlessness is a strength. Others say it is a weakness. I think it's a bit of both. It can be useful. In stressful situations for example. But it's also annoying. You can't exactly understand the fear of others. It's annoying sometimes. But it can also help. Not feeling a fear allows you to take a step back and realise that in the end it is an absurd and unjustified fear.
I understand that some people think my fearlessness is strange, impossible. But it is real, whole and I can't help it. I'm not complaining, of course. But still, it's not my fault that I'm not afraid of anything. When I think that my sister is afraid of almost everything. It's beyond me. How is it possible to be afraid of the sound of a tennis ball hitting the floor?

411 words

Broom racer • yes

Quidditch player • no

Duellist • no

Updating Phylicia Stanwood: Switching from Broom Racing to Quidditch (position preference of Keeper, if we’re doing that now)