Durmstrang NPC
This is a thread for Durmstrang iNPC applications and updates.
Restrictions to Creating an iNPC:You can find an up-to-date roster for this school here: viewtopic.php?t=17010 If you notice anything that is inaccurate, reach out to an admin (a Head of House, Deputy Headmaster or the Headmaster).
- Durmstrang has very few muggleborns, but they have many pure-bloods, wizard-borns and to a lesser extend half-bloods. You cannot create a Durmstrang iNPC that is a muggleborn.
- Durmstrang students start school one year before the other schools. eg Hogwarts' first year is equivalent to Durmstrang's second year. This is only IC. Having a second-year Durmstrang students still limits you to having "first-year" stats and abilities.
- Any iNPC that you create needs to be the same year as you are presently.
- Any iNPC that you create must be fully human.
Application for iNPC Updates:Name: Nothing from the sacred 28, no plagiarizing names from other fandoms.
School: Durmstrang
Year: Must be the same year as you are presently.
Status: Muggleborn, Halfblood, Wizardborn, Pureblood
Appearance: Please give a short description (at least 2 sentences) about what they look like and provide an avatar or a banner that shows their physical appearance. This picture or avatar is what you would be using in your posts where you are posting as your iNPC to clearly indicate that you are posting as your NPC not your PC.
Personality: Please give a brief description (at least 2 sentences) about their personality. If their personality is that they are a 'crazy person' or some sort of psychopath with a long list of disorders... please make a new personality because it will not be accepted. We do expect the personality to be something that can interface with other players and if they do have a mental or a physical handicap that it is done by a well-informed writer that will do so respectfully.
History: We are looking for at least 200 words describing their history. This is their life, their family. Their upbringing. This is separate from their personality and their appearance. This is not their ambitions or aspirations, this is the story of their life and the story of their life being reduced to a mere few hundred words should not be able to give their life justice. We want a well-thought out character. Please remember, they do not have awesome special powers that nobody else has. We do need a few sentences on their first magic as well.
Is your character a Broom Racer? This applies if you are any of the four schools. Players with an already created NPC from can state that their iNPC is a broom racer. Your sport choice (broom racing, quidditch, dueling) for your NPC can be the same as your PC. This is a binary YES/NO.
Is your character a Quidditch Player? This applies if you are any of the four schools. Players with an already created NPC from can state that their iNPC is a quidditch player. Your sport choice (broom racing, quidditch, dueling) for your NPC can be the same as your PC. This is a binary YES/NO.
Is your character a Duelist? This applies if you are any of the four schools. Players with an already created NPC from can state that their iNPC is a duellist. Your sport choice (broom racing, quidditch, dueling) for your NPC can be the same as your PC. This is a binary YES/NO.
Stats: They should add up to what you can have for your year if you were human. So if you have a Veela player character, your NPC does get the full stats you would have had if you were human. Wins from games (quidditch, broom racing, dueling) by your player character or NPC are also applied to your other account.
Abilities: To be accepted they must be written out fully and approved. This is a full application.
Note: You do not need to apply for aestethic changes of your character post, you can update that at your leisure.NPC Name:
Link: link to NPC page
Year: list the year your NPC should be
Stats: if you're updating stats, please put your stats here
Abilities: if you're applying for a new ability, please add that here
Extracurricular: include if they are a duellist/quidditch player/broom racer or none
Content Changes: Any updates to history/personality/etc will go here. Please provide detail on what exactly is changing and why.
Trunk Coding: please place here any special coding you want for your trunk. keep it simple
This is the "Game Master" account. Please do not owl this account, unless specified. This account is not moderated actively and therefore, you may not receive a response.
Contact a Head of House or the Headmaster if you need anything.
Durmstrang NPC
Marishka Shtriga
Age: 82 years old
Position: Headmistress of Durmstrang Institute
Race: Human
Blood status: wizard-born
Stats:
Stamina: 12
Evasion: 7
Strength: 15
Wisdom: 18
Arcane Power: 10
Accuracy: 8
Marshika’s midnight black hair has become streaked with grey over time, but she still cuts an imposing figure, being 1.79 meters tall. She has a slender build, although there is quite a bit of muscle on her arms and hands, the marks of a true blacksmith. Her hand are rough from the forge and her skin weathered from the heat, but her fingers are fine and long and her nails painted in dark colors that match her current outfit. For the occasion of the Hogwarts vs. Durmstrang Quidditch match, she has chosen to wear the colors of her school: robes in blood red and black with dark red nail polish to accompany the look. Her hair is tied back tight and pulled into a knot at the back of her head, leaving no strand to escape, and is mostly covered by an elaborate, black headpiece inlaid with jewels and rich in embroidery – it marks her as the matriarch of the Shtriga family. She usually carries an enchanted sabre at her hip that she knows how to use.Personality:
Marishka has distinguished herself as a diligent and dedicated worker, who will see a project finished once she has started it. This makes her demanding both of herself, the Durmstrang staff, and her students: she always expects their best, that they fulfill a task to their utmost ability and with the seriousness required of it. She is a strict teacher who is not very forgiving towards lazy behavior or inattentiveness, but leads by example and doesn't demand anything of her students she wouldn't expect of herself. As a Headmistress, Marishika is always seen around the castle, known for her quiet voice and the deliberate way she speaks. She has an open ear for the worries and troubles of her student, and while she isn't the motherly type she does care for every single one of her students and takes their complaints seriously.
She is old enough to have seen a lot, including both the Great Wizarding Wars of Europe and their aftermath. Maybe that is the reason why she tends to be calm even in stressful situations.
Marishka smokes from a reading pipe made of Black Walnut wood - the same as her wand - that leaves the soft smell of peaches and cold winter mornings behind wherever she goes. It's not tobacco she is smoking, but whatever substance she puts into that pipe is, it makes her breath turn the air icy when she exhales. Only when the situation is really dire will she put her pipe away.History:
The Shtriga are a very old Albanian magical family, and by the time Marishka was born they were also very impoverished. They held no riches anymore save for the family estate, which calling a castle would have been generous, as it was shabby and run-down, with half the building no longer habitable and all but a handful of its house-elves sold. Their line was no longer pure either, her grandmother having married a mildly famous magical clocksmith of half-blood descent. Her own mother Mirela had married a wizard almost twenty years her junior, and her job as a professional duelist in the lower Greek Leagues brought in just enough money to keep them off the streets. The only thing the family still had to its name was a hereditary seat on the Albanian Wizarding Council, an honour that wasn't rewarded in coin and that kept her father busier than most true professions would have.
Marishka attended Durmtrang and graduated its Dark Arts program, starting an apprenticeship as a magical weaponsmith soon after. When Mirela died in an accident in a sanctioned duel she became the new family head - as the Shtriga are matriarchic line - at twenty-seven. With her younger brother in his last year of school and her father grief-stricken, Marishka had to take up the Council seat or forfeit it. Her mother's pension wasn't generous and the years that followed were hard on the family. She immersed herself in magical law, studied texts and more texts, read ancient scripts, learned Greek and French, compared cases from neighbouring countries and worked hard to help overthrow some long-outdated laws.
Her dedication made Marishka not only renowned but over time also a sought-after expert on magical law. She was contacted by individuals as well as companies, the odd rich pure-blood as well as some magical governments to advocate for or defend their cases. Meanwhile her brother had his own plans of bringing the family glory, becoming a portrait painter and dallying with various ladies, both unwed and otherwise. He came to sire five children, all of them daughters. Marishka appreciated it in so far as that it absolved her of the duty to produce an heir of her own, though the siblings have no close relationship.
In her early fifties, she finally had enough time to take on her original profession of blacksmithing again, at least in the odd hours of her free time. Her life had settled - at least until that fateful day in 1995, when a representative of the Durmstrang Board of Governors knocked at her door.
Karkaroffs involvement with the British Death Eaters had sullied Durmstrang's good standing in the eyes of too many, and so the school sought to replace the fallen headmaster with one whose morals and intentions could not be questioned. Marishka Shtriga was their first choice and after a month of consideration, she agreed, not for the pay but for the good memories she had of Durmstrang, of the happy years she had had at school despite her family's struggles. Vesa, her oldest niece, took over the seat in the Wizarding Council while her aunt took over Durmstrang.
This is the "Game Master" account. Please do not owl this account, unless specified. This account is not moderated actively and therefore, you may not receive a response.
Contact a Head of House or the Headmaster if you need anything.
Durmstrang NPC
Trunk Coding:NPC Name: Gellert Schroeder
Link: link to NPC page
Year: Seventh
Stats:
Stamina: 10
Evasion: 11
Strength: 11
Wisdom: 11
ArcPower:11
Accuracy: 11
Abilities: Applying for Nonverbal MagicExtracurricular: Applying for Broom RacerAs a pureblood and intelligent person, Gellert had an affinity for magic. He also was very dedicated to his studies. As such, spells came easier to him and magic itself was more enjoyable and fun rather than a chore to practice. He always loved the idea of a challenge and he knew that nonverbal and wandless magic was something he desired one day. As such, his goal from the moment he started attending Durmstrang to now, he made sure to research, practice, and strive for that goal on nonverbal casting, and hopefully one day, wandless casting as well. His desire turned into ambition and he was set to practice his spells until the moment tht he cast them without the incantations said out loud. He practiced until the spells became easier and easier to cast with both the incantation and the wand movement. He studied the history behind the spells and the theory behind magic in the hopes that the new information that he learned could help him channel the magic within him to point that he could cast a spell nonverbally. From his first year at Durmstrang all the way to his sixth year he practiced and practiced. He practiced during the summer in his family’s home. He studied hard in school finding an affinity for dark magic during that time but still he did not quite reach the level of nonverbal magic. His parents, having the money, continued to pay his private tutor during the summer months, at his begging, although he would describe it as a request. His parents saw his upmost desire to reach this level of magic and nurtured it within him, encouraging and enabling him to indeed try his very best during schooling year to reach his goal of casting wandlessly and nonverbal and were quite proud of his ambition. His tutor was the one to catch Gellert’s ability to evade quickly, and again it was Gellert’s tutor who encouraged him and trained him as well in achieving one day the ability to cast in such a manner. It would be quite the proud achievement for a wizard so young and would make the Schroeder name more desire able as well. Gellert’s intelligence, hard work, and natural talent seemed to be paying off. Soon to enter his seventh year, he could taste it almost in his tongue, and he felt it deep within him that this year would be the year that he would cast nonverbally, and if he could describe it such, he was tenuously excited for it to happen.Word Count
427/400
Code: Select all
[quote][quote] [center][b][size=150][font=cursive]Sports[/font][/size][/b][/center]
[b]Broom Racer:[/b] Yes
[b]Quidditch Player:[/b] No
[b]Duelist:[/b] No[/quote]
[quote][center][b][size=150][font=cursive]Statistics:[/font][/size][/b][/center] [b]Stamina:[/b] 10
[b]Evasion:[/b] 11
[b]Strength:[/b] 11
[b]Wisdom:[/b] 11
[b]ArcPower:[/b]11
[b]Accuracy:[/b]11[/quote]
[quote][center][b][size=150][font=cursive]Abilities:[/font] [/size][/b][/center]
[b]Evasive Maneuvers[/b]
[reducio][font=typewriter]Gellert has always been a nimble child, flexible and quick, instead of muscular and large. The physical training at Durmstrang has helped cement his nimbleness through daily exercise. In fact, through physical education, his body had filled out with lean muscle allowing strength when jumping out of spells, dodging, and even twirling out of the way. His private tutor who was a very dedicated educator saw this nimbleness and began to train Gellert to increase in such ability. After gaining his permission, and his parents’ permission, the trainer had created a system where he shot harmless spells directly at the boy for the purpose of dodging. This proved to be very helpful for Gellert, as when he aged into school age, he had begun to desire to join a dueling team to prove his prowess and to gain magically powerful friends. His dream to do such has not been fulfilled yet but his natural body type and athleticism will be very helpful indeed when he indeed joins the ranks. In fact, this ability had been tested, when sadly when he was eleven, there had been an explosion that flung glass and metal into the air towards Gellert, due to a potions mishap. Luckily or skilfully, he was able to dodge most of the large fragments, only leaving him in the medical ward for three days. Through this occurrence, his name did spread in fame, for a bit, in the institute, as it was well received to have physical skill as well as magical skills. His desire to be physically nimble also strangely led him to the Muggle world, having heard of the martial arts from a chance meeting of a British half-blood who had come to visit his grandparents, who lived in the same area as Gellert’s family. In retrospect, this was quite strange for a Pureblood, but Gellert indeed asked to be allowed to join some training over the summer in order to keep his physical activity and thus his nimbleness up. Through the physical ardor in the institute and his dedication in the summer to muggle martial arts, Gellert became a strange individual who cemented his ability to dodge and weave better than most in a few years. Perhaps indeed it also made him desire a spot in the Hexwizard Competition which would provide a way for him to test his skills against wizards of other countries and levels. His pride might get in the way of him, but he was certain that his ability to dodge would make him victorious one day.
[/font]
[quote][center][b][size=125]Word Count[/size][/b][/center]
[center][color=#008c00]425[/color]/400[/center][/quote][/reducio]
[b]Advanced Casting[/b]
[reducio][font=typewriter]As said before, Gellert is a Pureblood from a line of wealthy Purebloods on one side and a line of self dignified wand tree farmers who earned a fairly large wage from selling their wand wood. This signified that Gellert could receive just about any education he so desired. With his first accidental magic occurring at three and with a grandfather who was dedicated to noble propriety, this of course meant that private tutoring was pretty much a guarantee. The tutoring of course involved languages, history, politics, and any other Pureblood duties but it also included magic. He was taught the wand movements and incantations of many charms when he was younger than Durmstrang age, allowing him to be fully comfortable when he started casting during his actual school years. Although he was younger than ten, Gellert would often sneak in to the library, and read the spell incantations over and over again in order to prepare for when he could truly cast the spell. With his intelligence and academic fervor, he was dedicated to practice all the incantations in his book every day and finished doing so about two months before he actually started his formal education. This combined with his thirst for power, combined with his capabilities, and his strong magical core, provided him with a slight advantage above others his own age, not a lot, but enough to have more effective spells, and easier casting. Although this of course did not make him the next Gellert Grindelwald but it still could bring some ease into creating the next Gellert Schroeder as a name people knew as magically proficient. Every year the spells he learnt were already an incantation and movement he remembered, due to his intelligence and his self drive for study, thus providing him a chance to practice before the class did, earning him the spot of one of the top casters in the Institute. His ability often catches the eye of the professors who deemed him as someone to look out for, due to both his skills as a caster but also due to his penchant for darker arts, as the British often described them. Not the evil ones as the British often denoted them all, but deeper and older magic that originated from a long long time ago, magic that seeped from the bones. It was something that made Gellert feel magic deep in his soul, something that impacted far more than any of the light spells. It was not power but it felt more real to him, runes, rituals, pacts, perhaps even blood pacts, though that wasn’t something that he had ever tried. He knew that it would be something he would do with a beloved if it was not illegal. There was something about these mental magics that filled something in him that other spells do not. Through his advanced casting, he was able to focus on the subjects he enjoyed without much difficulty, securing him the spot of the one of the academically successful wizards at Durmstrang.
[/font]
[quote][center][b][size=125]Word Count[/size][/b]
[color=#007e00]504[/color]/400[/center][/quote][/reducio]
[b]Cat’s Grace[/b]
[reducio][font=typewriter]Over the years, Gellert had realized the importance of stealth and silence in many parts of Wizarding power relations. The ability to sneak in and eavesdrop on many individuals was very advantageous in the establishment of bribes and the prevention of another noble family gaining plans over another. This was true vice-versa as well. So, as Gellert aged, he decided to train his natural agility spoken about beforehand also for the ability to walk quietly, blend into shadows, and gracefully enter and exit a room without anyone noticing. Although in the beginning, he was not very successful, his dedication to training such a skill allowed him to be graceful as a cat, combining his physical strength with agility, to hide in strange positions that most others can not hold, in order to eavesdrop on many conversations. The most significant conversation Gellert had overheard was the secret plans of Von Zinzendorf to surprise his uncle with a strange replication of a sea creature in his bathtub. It was not a dangerous situation, but Gellert relished the chance to reverse the card onto Zinzendorf and planned for weeks to surprise him with the same replica right when he returned from prancing Gellert’s uncle. In the end, the prank was successful, causing Zinzendorf to laugh and then in slight paranoia, though not offended, wonder who was the culprit. Gellert was never found out to this day. In this way, his gracefulness and stealth was tested humorously, but Gellert hoped to apply such skills in the political intrigues of the Wizarding World and to establish his own power throughout the years. He desired to understand the secret minds of the people around him, revealing the truth behind what they say out loud, what they do not admit except in the darks of night or solitude. Perhaps this made Gellert a cynical person, but he often found that everyone had secrets when they were alone. Everyone has things to hide. His grace was then perhaps both a blessing and a curse, providing him significant information for bribery, but also a deeper understanding of the dark nature of humanity. Without others to block them, people were often different in the confines of solitude than their apparent self, creating doubts in Gellert’s mind if he would ever truly find someone who was completely loyal to him as he would be to them, someone who he could trust without worry, even if they were alone. [/font]
[quote][center][b][size=125]Word Count[/size][/b]
[color=#008803]407[/color]/400[/center][/quote]
[/reducio]
[b]Charmer[/b]
[reducio][font=typewriter]With his suave and confident manner, Gellert could convince most people that he was on their side, charming them to do anything he wanted. Combined with his sharp cheekbones, plush lips, and beautiful eyes, Gellert could pass for a prince if he so desired. The handsome features of his face coupled with the sharp, polite, manner, could just about entice anyone. He was a very self-assured individual allowing others to easily believe in his plans despite their initial misgivings and to fully trust in his intelligence. For those who’d rather trust academically based arguments than beauty, Gellert could easily display his intelligence and charm them through his strong grasp on logical concepts and their subject of interest.
His tutor had of course also educated him on Pureblood etiquette, cementing his behavior easily as one who would inherit wealth, again charming those who would not admit their jealousy for wealth but still pursued it. His Pureblood etiquette was a way to establish his manners and reputation, but inwardly he was not fully such a cold and perfect individual, with warmth hidden deeply within his soul. However, he could turn on a mask very quickly and act as people expect him to. Charming people was after all a significant advantage in the process of making himself in control. If people submit willingly, the gaining of power was quite a bit much easier after all.
There are three major ways Gellert charms people, his physical attractiveness, his silver tongue, and his intelligence. First, his physical attractiveness is a major part of his charm. His handsome face could be described model-like, his sharp features creating a form desired by many. At fourteen years of age, Gellert was already striking, his platinum hair and blue eyes creating a unique face rare to be seen in the world. This allowed him to attract the attention of people who wanted to date him. Second, his sharp tongue allowed him to intelligently banter and to create tales that allowed himself to never be the blamed person. This charmed most people to believe he was the best person, kind, gentle, and such. Although usually he was indeed such and desired to be so, inside he felt as if there was something dark that could break out of him and prevent him from kindness and be capable of criminal acts. Finally, his intellect allowed him to plan ages ahead in order to offer exactly what people wanted when they first saw him. This allowed charming to come quite easily as he always liked to offer what people desire.
[/font]
[quote][center][b][size=125]Word Count[/size][/b]
[color=#005400]425[/color]/400[/center][/quote][/reducio]
[b]Nonverbal Casting[/b]
[reducio][font=typewriter]As a pureblood and intelligent person, Gellert had an affinity for magic. He also was very dedicated to his studies. As such, spells came easier to him and magic itself was more enjoyable and fun rather than a chore to practice. He always loved the idea of a challenge and he knew that nonverbal and wandless magic was something he desired one day. As such, his goal from the moment he started attending Durmstrang to now, he made sure to research, practice, and strive for that goal on nonverbal casting, and hopefully one day, wandless casting as well. His desire turned into ambition and he was set to practice his spells until the moment tht he cast them without the incantations said out loud. He practiced until the spells became easier and easier to cast with both the incantation and the wand movement. He studied the history behind the spells and the theory behind magic in the hopes that the new information that he learned could help him channel the magic within him to point that he could cast a spell nonverbally. From his first year at Durmstrang all the way to his sixth year he practiced and practiced. He practiced during the summer in his family’s home. He studied hard in school finding an affinity for dark magic during that time but still he did not quite reach the level of nonverbal magic. His parents, having the money, continued to pay his private tutor during the summer months, at his begging, although he would describe it as a request. His parents saw his upmost desire to reach this level of magic and nurtured it within him, encouraging and enabling him to indeed try his very best during schooling year to reach his goal of casting wandlessly and nonverbal and were quite proud of his ambition. His tutor was the one to catch Gellert’s ability to evade quickly, and again it was Gellert’s tutor who encouraged him and trained him as well in achieving one day the ability to cast in such a manner. It would be quite the proud achievement for a wizard so young and would make the Schroeder name more desire able as well. Gellert’s intelligence, hard work, and natural talent seemed to be paying off. Soon to enter his seventh year, he could taste it almost in his tongue, and he felt it deep within him that this year would be the year that he would cast nonverbally, and if he could describe it such, he was tenuously excited for it to happen.
[quote][center][b]Word Count[/b]
[color=#10a44d]427[/color]/400[/center][/quote][/font][/reducio][/quote]
[/quote]
Durmstrang NPC
NPC Name: Valentin Schnell
Link: viewtopic.php?f=314&t=17006#p269554
Year: 6th (Durmstrang 7th)
Stats:
STA 8
EVA 20
STR 3
WIS 20
ARC 1
ACC 17
Extracurricular: No changes
Content Changes: No changes
Abilities:
Comprehend Languages (Veela)Reducio
Valentin Schnell, the alleged pureblood, had tried to keep his mother’s secret – just as she had all the way to her grave. Yet, the press’s thirst for a salacious story never ceased, and it was only a matter of time until the boy’s mysterious lineage began to unravel like a ball of yarn tumbling from his hands down a stairwell.
Locking himself in his study and only accepting rations and more books through a slit in the door, Valentin tried to escaping his feverish, dangerous need to be around certain people by throwing himself into his quest: discovering the key to immortality. For as many cautionary tales as he’d read and however much trepidation he got when probing his friends’ opinions, he couldn’t forget the conviction in his heart of repaying the day when Romeo and Charles had saved him from certain death. While the latter had flown far out of reach, Valentin still maintained the hope of making up for all the mistakes and inadequacies he’d been subjecting Romeo to for years. If only he could offer the Italian eternal life, or at least the choice to escape death until it suited his true heart’s desire, then maybe Valentin could forgive himself. It didn’t matter how many times people told him it was impossible. This was the only way he could seem to control himself and prevent even worse, unforgivable acts.
Leafing through a blue folk tome passed down for generations, Valentin scratched his head before turning back to the Nature’s Nobility book of “purebloods” that lay open on its back atop a fine Turkish rug. His mother had always told him to find their ancestral gifts within himself in order to ensure their survival. You are the last of us, she would say with tears in her pleading eyes, but who – or what – was “us”? On one winter day helping Romeo research the Marchonné family heritage, Val relented and shared his mother’s secret despite the risk. He just couldn’t endure keeping important parts of himself from someone he so cherished— not any longer: Valentin had non-human ancestry.
While Valentin had enough recent human ancestry to be considered “fully human” by popular standards, the boy’s mother was still a part-veela. Judging by his ability to understand but not speak Parseltongue, he also wondered how much of his diluted genetics came from true Parselmouths. Going back four generations to Valentin’s great great grandmother, one would find a full veela — if they knew the right place to look. A popular musician not wanting to be judged for her ancestral hypnotic powers, Valentin’s mother Zinoviya went to great lengths to conceal their heritage by magically dying her hair and never speaking the veela language recognizably in public. However, in the privacy of their own home, Zinoviya had sung traditional songs in the Veela language to Valentin ever since he was a baby. Growing up in a multi-lingual environment, Valentin thus developed a strong knack for language learning, singing, poetry, and music in general.
Flipping through the folktale book beside him, Valentin’s eyes skimmed past “The Turke and Gowin” and tales of the Grail until finding a leaf of sheet music tucked between its pages. Undeniably scrawled in his mother’s handwriting, Valentin found that its song was written in the veela language. Raising his voice to try to summon his mother’s melody from beyond the grave, the words and harmonies came naturally to him. Nostalgic, comforting, the song evoked memories of his childhood, and he realized this was but one torn page from a larger book that Zinoviya had most often used when singing to him. Summoning his butler, Valentin asked for a search to be held to find the rest of the book. Perhaps the secrets of his predecessors could be found in such ancient songs as these…
The next few weeks consumed Valentin with an unquenchable thirst for more and more traditional veela music, and day by day, the language returned to him. While his mother was now gone, whenever he raised his voice in her native Veela, Valentin felt that just maybe he could find a way to not be the dead end of his family’s heritage after all. On the last day, the butler Sergei returned with a silver-tone leather book bearing tooled decorations of a dragon with amethyst eyes. With only minutes to spare, Valentin thanked him and stuffed the tome into his pack before running down to catch a carriage to make his way back to London. Little did he know, the news media had also learned certain details of Valentin's “less-than-human” ancestry, and race supremacists would now have a bone to pick with the supposedly dangerous impurities of Valentin's “fully human” blood.
Trunk Coding: please place here any special coding you want for your trunk. keep it simpleReducio
Comprehend Languages (Veela)Reducio
Valentin Schnell, the alleged pureblood, had tried to keep his mother’s secret – just as she had all the way to her grave. Yet, the press’s thirst for a salacious story never ceased, and it was only a matter of time until the boy’s mysterious lineage began to unravel like a ball of yarn tumbling from his hands down a stairwell.
Locking himself in his study and only accepting rations and more books through a slit in the door, Valentin tried to escaping his feverish, dangerous need to be around certain people by throwing himself into his quest: discovering the key to immortality. For as many cautionary tales as he’d read and however much trepidation he got when probing his friends’ opinions, he couldn’t forget the conviction in his heart of repaying the day when Romeo and Charles had saved him from certain death. While the latter had flown far out of reach, Valentin still maintained the hope of making up for all the mistakes and inadequacies he’d been subjecting Romeo to for years. If only he could offer the Italian eternal life, or at least the choice to escape death until it suited his true heart’s desire, then maybe Valentin could forgive himself. It didn’t matter how many times people told him it was impossible. This was the only way he could seem to control himself and prevent even worse, unforgivable acts.
Leafing through a blue folk tome passed down for generations, Valentin scratched his head before turning back to the Nature’s Nobility book of “purebloods” that lay open on its back atop a fine Turkish rug. His mother had always told him to find their ancestral gifts within himself in order to ensure their survival. You are the last of us, she would say with tears in her pleading eyes, but who – or what – was “us”? On one winter day helping Romeo research the Marchonné family heritage, Val relented and shared his mother’s secret despite the risk. He just couldn’t endure keeping important parts of himself from someone he so cherished— not any longer: Valentin had non-human ancestry.
While Valentin had enough recent human ancestry to be considered “fully human” by popular standards, the boy’s mother was still a part-veela. Judging by his ability to understand but not speak Parseltongue, he also wondered how much of his diluted genetics came from true Parselmouths. Going back four generations to Valentin’s great great grandmother, one would find a full veela — if they knew the right place to look. A popular musician not wanting to be judged for her ancestral hypnotic powers, Valentin’s mother Zinoviya went to great lengths to conceal their heritage by magically dying her hair and never speaking the veela language recognizably in public. However, in the privacy of their own home, Zinoviya had sung traditional songs in the Veela language to Valentin ever since he was a baby. Growing up in a multi-lingual environment, Valentin thus developed a strong knack for language learning, singing, poetry, and music in general.
Flipping through the folktale book beside him, Valentin’s eyes skimmed past “The Turke and Gowin” and tales of the Grail until finding a leaf of sheet music tucked between its pages. Undeniably scrawled in his mother’s handwriting, Valentin found that its song was written in the veela language. Raising his voice to try to summon his mother’s melody from beyond the grave, the words and harmonies came naturally to him. Nostalgic, comforting, the song evoked memories of his childhood, and he realized this was but one torn page from a larger book that Zinoviya had most often used when singing to him. Summoning his butler, Valentin asked for a search to be held to find the rest of the book. Perhaps the secrets of his predecessors could be found in such ancient songs as these…
The next few weeks consumed Valentin with an unquenchable thirst for more and more traditional veela music, and day by day, the language returned to him. While his mother was now gone, whenever he raised his voice in her native Veela, Valentin felt that just maybe he could find a way to not be the dead end of his family’s heritage after all. On the last day, the butler Sergei returned with a silver-tone leather book bearing tooled decorations of a dragon with amethyst eyes. With only minutes to spare, Valentin thanked him and stuffed the tome into his pack before running down to catch a carriage to make his way back to London. Little did he know, the news media had also learned certain details of Valentin's “less-than-human” ancestry, and race supremacists would now have a bone to pick with the supposedly dangerous impurities of Valentin's “fully human” blood.
Durmstrang NPC
Name: Anichka Volosin
School: Durmstrang
Year: Second (Durmstrang Third)
Status: PurebloodAppearanceReducioAnichka is a little short for his age (4"6'), with green eyes and fair skin. Her brown hair is normally parted down the middle and frames her face, running down to her shoulders. Anichka is an avid jogger and hiker and it shows in her physique.PersonalityReducioAnichka has always been a bit of a tomboy. In the small pureblood hamlet she lived in, she liked to hang out with the boys, playing outside and learning sports. She is shy and doesn't say much until she feels comfortable around someone. This quiet and seemingly detached nature may make her seem cold to some people, but it's just a screen she puts up to protect herself. Once people get to know her to be friendly and studious. She seems overly serious because she doesn't fully understand the concept of humor, her parents always being straitlaced and serious.History
ReducioAnichka was born just outside Chaplynka, a small municipality in the Kherson Oblast of the Ukraine. Her father, Danilo, is a potion brewer who has his own shop which he runs out of his home. His focus is in healing potions and he takes his potion making,as with his life in general, very seriously. Her mother, Ionna, is three years younger than her father. They went to school together but didn't really know each other until a few years later. Ionna is a magizoologist and just happened to meet Danilo as she was tracking a rare animal. Anichka has two younger siblings: Diana (9) and Mykola (6).
While they lived in an insular hamlet of about two dozen wizarding families, they were not completely ignorant of the outside world. They liked to keep aware enough just to know what was going on around them (also a matter of necessity lest they grow suspicious that their neighbors are wizards). Anichka was born shortly after the Russian Annexation of Crimea. She spent her first two years living in this same hamlet but completely unaware of the muggle world around her. When Ionna became pregnant with Diana, they decided that living close to such a volatile area was not good for their children. They elected to move to Finland before Anichka could learn enough of her original home to miss it later.
When she was three, her family settled in Ylitornio in Western Finland, just a few kilometers from the border with Sweden. Unlike much of Finland, Ylitornio is unlingual, so as her parents were learning Finnish, so was she. Due to the transition, her first language is Finnish. As she grew older and her parents told her of the family history, she also began to learn Ukranian and Russian, however she only has a basic knowledge. She started learning English at 8 so she could go to school. She's at least able to function and interact, but she has yet to master it.
Her family settled into a small wizarding community and life was much the same as it was in the Ukraine. Her mother traveled throughout Scandinavia researching the magical fauna of the area, and her father ran his potions shop out of their home and was the primary caregiver and teacher of the children. As she grew up, she was transfixed by the other wizarding children flying around low on their brooms (she herself was not permitted to fly) and that was what she was most excited about learning about once she started school. She had a couple of close friends in her new home but she did not have a large circle of friends.
Is your character a Broom Racer? Yes
Is your character a Quidditch Player? No
Is your character a Duelist? NoStats: STA 9 | EVA 8 | STR 5 | WIS 6 | ARC 4 | ACC 8Abilities:
Lovely Creature
ReducioThe genetics of the Volosin family had always been very strong. They had been resilient to illness, intelligent, and very good looking. Anichka's mother Ionna stands at 5"9' and had the perfect frame. She did not have an ounce of fat on her and she had the most beautiful, electric eyes that drew people to her. Her father is a mount of a man who stands at 6"6'. He is very muscular (a product of him working out every day and chasing his children around the house day in and day out) and has a beard that everyone agrees is absolutely glorious.
In addition to having the fine genetics of her family, Anichka has also been blessed in the looks department both by biology and her lifestyle choices. As a product of her upbringing, Anichka eats very little in terms of sweets and candy. She does enjoy them, but she practices the self-discipline her parents taught her and eats them in (what some might say) extreme moderation. At school, she follows the type of diet her family instilled in her. She eats a lot of vegetables and lean protiens. While she enjoys crisps and mash, she avoids them as she knows she's not supposed to have them. She prefers water to pumpkin juice (although she does love butterbeer, she drinks it rarely).
Anichka's lovely form is also helped by her lifestyle. When she's not in class, she makes use of Durmstrang's expansive grounds. In keeping with her activites at home, she loves to run and hike around the grounds. Even in the cold, sometimes barely lit winters, she still runs and hikes around the grounds. This helps to make her even more fit. As she learned to fly she also started doing that more and more (sometimes even 'borrowing' the school brooms at night). If she could read her textbooks while hiking through a forest or soaring through the air, she would.
To bring the whole effect together, Anichka went to great lengths to ensure that she always looked her best. Every time she gets up, she puts great care into her hair and makeup, making sure each is perfect in the mirror. She also makes sure she picks a suitable and nice outfit, ensuring that it is unblemished and fits perfectly.
All of these factors fit together to make Anichka stunningly beautiful. Her natural beauty draws attention to her whenever she enters a room and people find it difficult to take their eyes off of her. She is truly, a lovely creature.
Poison Resistance
ReducioAnichka had received her fair share of shapes and bruises through her youthful adventures. It was just a fact of life that someone was outside and running through the woods as much as she did was bound to occassionally take a tumble. Another hazard of playing in the woods, she quickly learned, as different stings, bugbites, and even sometimes snakebites she received throughout her adventures. These always hurt and made her uncomfortable. On one occasion, her reaction was severe enough that she actually started to have visual hallucination in the forms of colors and shapes as she made her way back. Every time she got back home her further would give her whatever she needed to stop the reaction, and also did his best to educate her on different animals and insects and the different venoms some of them produced. On the one hand, he would've kept her inside all the time if he could so he didn't have to worry about her. On the other hand, she knew she was a child and he needed to simply let her be a child. He would supervise her, and sometimes he would take her on hikes with her, but the fact was that he knew she would sneak off on her own sometimes, but she always did as he asked, coming home before dark.
This practical experience and the education her father gave her made her very adept at spotting dangers when she was running or hiking. Her father instilled in her that with plants, animals, and insects, as with most things in life, there would always be dangers and things to avoid, the most important thing was knowledge, and using that knowledge to make yourself as safe as possible. Knowing what she knew from his teachings, she had an excellent understanding of the effects potions, venoms, and poisons could have on a person, and so was very adept at understanding if she was under the influence of any of them.
This knowledge, coupled with her superior metabolism thanks to her genetics, was put to the test at the end of her first year at Durmstrang. While she was on one of her midwinter runs, Anichka tripped over a dimly lit root and felt. When she hit the ground, she felt a brief stinging pain on her arm but thought nothing of it as she was wearing layers to deal with the cold. A few moments later, she realized that whatever she had fallen on had pierced her layers and she was having a reaction to something in her system. Her vision had started to become blurry so she sat down and took a long drink from her water, calming herself. Thanks to her experience, she was able to take a few deep breaths and carefully make her way back to the castle and up to the hospital wing safely.
Durmstrang NPC
NPC Name: Greta Fransson
Link: X
Year: 7th year (Hogwarts 6th year stats)
Stats: 70 points (60 + 10 from sports wins ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦)
STA | 5 STR | 1 EVA | 15 + 5 WIS | 10 + 2 ARC | 12 ACC | 20
Abilities:
Lovely Creature
Extracurricular: 1st-string Quidditch Chaser
Content Changes: n/a
Trunk Coding:
Link: X
Year: 7th year (Hogwarts 6th year stats)
Stats: 70 points (60 + 10 from sports wins ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦)
STA | 5 STR | 1 EVA | 15 + 5 WIS | 10 + 2 ARC | 12 ACC | 20
Abilities:
Lovely Creature
Reducio
Greta had always been a rather unassuming individual. Pureblood parents had always insisted on strict adherence to what they dictated as acceptable behaviour. While her brother was praised for bold action and carving his own path, the same could not be said for the younger of the siblings. Hanzo had never expressed any intention of carrying on the family wandcrafting business, and so that responsibility was placed upon Greta's shoulders. Moreover, given their heritage, it was understood that her parents would one day establish an appropriate matrimonial match for her, if she did not provide an acceptable candidate herself. Sooner, rather than later. To these ends, she was monitored very carefully. Her parents dictated the classes she could take, the extracurriculars in which she could participate. They instructed her on proper decorum, how to dress, the ways to present and carry herself. Her diet was regulated; her appearance polished. All in the name of good breeding. Not that it ever really seemed to amount to much. Although bubbly and exuberant as a young child, the pressure of expectation and rigid lifestyle had left Greta meek and timid. Without room to spread her wings, she had cowed, bent, in the regime of her parents. Whether intentional or not, however, this only seemed to add to the appeal she seemed to exude. Through her brother's friends, quidditch, duelling, and her time on Durmstrang's hexwizard team, Greta managed to effortlessly, and quite accidentally, gather a group of those whom she would consider brothers (and the odd sister). The foil to their bulwarks, she retained a delicate character cherished by those surrounding her. Bright smiles came frequently and easily; large doe-eyes sparkled frequently with adventurous innocence; and her persona and wardrobe highlighted a femininity uncommon to the stereotypically dour Durmstrang throngs. She may not have been particularly pleasing to the eye, nor entrancing in her speech. No blood of a veela flowed through her veins to grant her an exceptionally charming appearance. Nevertheless, those who called her their sister would ever insist that hers was a beauty that was not at all skin deep, but rather a presence that could leaven a moment, bringing relief of light to even the darkest hours. And puberty... it could be a blessing or a curse. But for Greta, she was gifted with the former. Baby fat had gradually faded, her round face slimming to a delicate heart and eyes appearing larger by relativity. The yellow of her straw-coloured hair had faded to a matured ash-blonde, cheeks rouging naturally. Thanks to the interventions of her mother, her teeth were straight and white. And her figure had shifted from that of a twiggish girl, to an athletic young woman. Overall, she had become quite pretty, every image the valkyrie after which she had been monikered.
Extracurricular: 1st-string Quidditch Chaser
Content Changes: n/a
Trunk Coding:
Reducio
Code: Select all
[quote][quote][center][font=century]──────────────────────── [size=150]T R U N K[/size] ────────────────────────[/font][/center][/quote][/quote]
[quote][quote][center][img]files/f24f297d63ea92c2.png[/img][/center][/quote][/quote]
[quote][quote][center][size=115]C H A R A C T E R • I N F O R M A T I O N[/size][/center][/quote]
[quote][center]──────────────────────────────────────────── S T A T I S T I C S ──[/center]
[center]S[size=75]TA[/size] | [size=125][b]5[/b][/size] S[size=75]TR[/size] | [size=125][b]1[/b][/size] E[size=75]VA[/size] | [size=125][b]20[/b][/size] W[size=75]IS[/size] | [size=125][b]12[/b][/size] A[size=75]RC[/size] | [size=125][b]12[/b][/size] A[size=75]CC[/size] | [size=125][b]20[/b][/size]
[reducio][center][i]+1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=40&t=9840&start=90#p157988]Quidditch win[/url] vs. Slytherin (April 2020)
+1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=40&t=13593&start=150#p225180]Quidditch win[/url] vs. Slytherin (Oct 2020)
+1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=40&t=15343&p=254406#p254406] Quidditch win [/url] vs. Ravenclaw (Jan 2021)
+1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=269331#p2693319]Quidditch win[/url] vs. Hufflepuff (May 2021)
+1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=286320#p286320]Quidditch win[/url] vs. Hydra & Wixes United (Aug 2021)
+1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=306202#p306202]Quidditch win[/url] vs. Hufflepuff (Oct 2021)
+1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=21161&start=70#p452628]Quidditch win[/url] vs. Slytherin (May 2022)
+1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?p=738387#p738387]Duelling win[/url] vs. Ravenclaw (May 2023)
+1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=28323&start=60#p766070]Quidditch win[/url] vs. Hogwarts (July 2023)
+1 from [url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=29771&start=60#p893649]Duelling win[/url] vs. Ravenclaw (Nov 2023)[/i][/center][/reducio][/center][/quote]
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[table][tr][td][b][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=7503&start=10#:~:text=to%20your%20stealth.-,Calming%20Presence,-Your%20presence%20simply]Calming Presence[/url][/b] — [i]An aura of calm. Allies (defined at the START of an instance regardless of later betrayal) gain a 10% chance to auto-hit their chosen target. This does not stack.[/i][/td][td]
[reducio][center]────── R A T I O N A L E ──────[/center]
Calm. Collected. Reserved. Children ought to be seen, but not heard. This was the way of child rearing for some time, and a sentiment still held by many a family, pureblood or otherwise. Strictly speaking, Greta's family did not [i]quite[/i] hold tight to such a notion. Theirs was a relatively small and nuclear family with a proud, but modest living. A living that they were required to work to maintain. Her Greta's father had his breeding and husbandry, while her mother continued to master and expand her craft with wand-making.
These were trades that would, in theory, be someday passed down to the Fransson children. In order to do so successfully, however, it meant that early rearing into the businesses would be required, alongside the careful cultivation of discipline and an appreciation for toil. This was more easily achieved with Greta, the younger of their two children, helped in no small amount by the fact that she had chosen to refrain from attending muggle school in the nearby town in favour of receiving an education provided by her parents that they tailored towards their family businesses and the wizarding traditions that had held to for so many years.
That Greta took to their teachings and allowed herself to be moulded and crafted to their preference, so readily doing as she was told and ultimately playing the part of an ideal daughter instilled within her parents a great deal of comfort. In her, at least, they could rest assured that the wand-making — as that was the task to which she gravitated with more keen interest than the tending of the magical animals — would carry on in their line.
Greta's demure and reliable nature went beyond her dedication to her role within the structure of home and family. Although it was no doubt an irritation at times for Hanzo, the fact that she took such an interest in his life and whereabouts was a comfort to their parents. Especially given his attendance at the muggle school, they couldn't watch over him the way they could Greta. Nor were they generally inclined to wander into the town proper more than necessary. Given her tendency to accompany him to and from his place of study, however, she could — and often did — serve the bridge between them, reporting to their parents his whereabouts and level of well-being, while also passively acting to curb any wild tendencies that might have arisen due to her incessant — nearly to the point of obsessive — need to be with him.
More importantly, Greta always had Hanzo's back. Quiet and shy she might be, but she was every ounce of her a capable witch in her own right. Elusive, agile, collected and capable, she could support him in a duel if ever it came down to it. Plus, having grown up with him, she possessed an uncanny ability to read her brother's intent, able to react accordingly in an instant without the need for lengthy discussion. She dedicated herself to her studies at Durmstrang, proving herself to be a quick study with spells, and an above-average mage with wicked aim. And even on the pitch, the team could always rely on her to net them a few goals. She was reliable. All those who knew her well and she considered within her circle could rest assured that her presence, regardless of the situation, would contribute positively.
[quote][center][b]Word Count: [/b]566[/center][/quote][/reducio][/td][/tr]
[tr][td][b][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=7503&start=10#:~:text=the%20Imperius%20Curse.-,Perfectionist,-When%20you%20cast]Perfectionist I[/url][/b] — [i]You have a reduced critical failure chance range by 1. In addition, you can counter up to 1 point of additional critical failure chances caused by abilities or spells (not potions).[/i][/td][td]
[reducio][center]────── R A T I O N A L E ──────[/center]
Excellence. Superiority. Consistency in everything. Concepts hardly foreign to many households, they held especially true within that of the Fransson's. Pureblood and proud, there was little room for any sign of weakness. As the yougner of the two Fransson children, Greta lived perpetually in the shadow of her elder brother and felt this keenly. This year, she had taken one step to differentiate herself. Or, perhaps the better explanation would be that where Hanzo had taken one, she had not.
Or at least... hadn't intended to. Where Hanzo had drifted from his position as chaser and captain of the Durmstrang Quidditch team, Greta had meant to remain on the team. Influenced in part by her success on the pitch against Hogwarts, as well as her desire to remain playing alongside her friend, Ella, Greta had fought the urge to pad after Hanzo as he drifted towards duelling. Despite this, Greta's attention [i]had[/i] drifted towards duelling in some capacity. There was little doubt that she could execute in the air upon a broom. Her presence as a chaser had been a commanding one, earning herself many a praising word, and even an admirer or two. But after the camp, there had been one event that had stuck with her, eating away at her self-confidence: the team-based duelling chess game. This was only furthered by parental pressure, which would ultimately prove the stronger. Quidditch was hardly a suitable pursuit when she was expected to invest in the family business of wand making. They were a family bound to the wand, not the broom.
Although her performance had hardly been something to evoke a snide remark, neither had it been particularly impressive. For days afterwards, she had dwelled on the fact that, under pressure, her spells had failed her nearly as often as they had succeeded. As a student from a prodigious combat-oriented school, this had sat poorly with her indeed. She was the progeny of a wand-maker. Poor casting performance would never do. What was worse, her mother had somehow caught wind of her embarrassing performance, and the sight of her lips pursed in disapproval had nearly sundered the young girl's heart in twain.
As a result, for the remainder of the summer, Greta had devoted herself to independent study, determined to make of herself a more worthy duellist. By the time school had started yet again, not only had she succeeded in drastically improving the consistency of her spell-casting, rarely failing a spell now; she had also gained better command of her wand. Unless circumstances were out of her control, it no longer back-fired against her. Something for which she was more than a little glad for all the balm and wrappings she had requested of her father in secret whenever her wand would act up in temperamental practice in her overzealous practice.
She would do her parents proud. Or strive to at least. As unimposing as she was, all she could do would be to minimise her ineptitude. To practice those things she was capable of honing to perfection.
[quote][center][b]Word Count: [/b]510[/center][/quote][/reducio][/td][/tr]
[tr][td][b][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=7503&start=10#:~:text=the%20Charmer%20ability.-,Spell%20Spread,-You%20go%20big]Spell Spread[/url][/b] — [i]You can elect to reduce the accuracy of your spell by -2, increase the DC by 2 and the critical failure range by +1 to target a second user with your spell.[/i][/td][td]
[reducio][center]────── R A T I O N A L E ──────[/center]
Let it not be said that inaction flowed through the veins of the youngest of the Fransson's. While Quidditch had held a certain allure to the sport and the rush of wind to tousle her hair and the thrill of chasing down the quaffle were dearly missed, Greta fully accepted the change to her extracurricular career. From the moment she had joined the Durmstrang duelling team, she had been invested. While spellwork came relatively easily to the girl, [i]good[/i] simply wasn't good [i]enough[/i] and she had spent countless hours in the forest behind her home practicing her spellwork on unsuspecting vegetation. More than a few of the trees bordering their property sported the effects of her efforts. Deep gashes shimmered with dried sap where a flick of her wrist had sent a slash through the bark. Others found themselves adorned in the latest fashion of charcoal and ash where conflagrations had been allowed to catch and hold for a short time before being extinguished. Pock marks marred the ground where she had set up small objects to serve as target practice for various spells, their forms soon finding themselves flung free of their pedestals to land with a padded thud to fall into the loving embrace of the mossy forest floor.
It had become something of her own little place of respite, as good as any to relish in her growing abilities while also loosing whatever frustrations plagued her. Such was how she'd found herself there again at the start of the summer. She did need to practice, that was true. There'd been rumour that perhaps they might be returning to Hogwarts even sooner than she might have expected. Really, it was almost as though the English school was becoming something of a second home. She'd thought perhaps the last occasion would be a one-time opportunity for her. Instead, staff had spoken about representing Durmstrang not only in air upon their brooms, but also with the wand. And that prospect positively [i]terrified[/i] Greta. What if she failed? What if she [i]lost[/i]? Not only would she dishonour her school, but her family as well. With her mother as a wandmaker, she had something of a name to uphold. A standard to strive for. It was as much fear of failure as it was ambition to win that led her to take her place among the foliage every morning and well into the day.
With each day that passed, for every day that the competition drew nearer, her aptitude increased only to a point. Then, for whatever reason, it seemed to wane. Exhaustion, perhaps? Desperation? She found that where before, she could cast incessantly without fail, now her wand would falter nine times of ten. Even her accuracy seemed to falter, the spell sometimes seeming to divert of its own accord as though just to spite her. She couldn't have that. She couldn't. Her parents would have to be made proud. Durmstang as well. There would be no greater embarrassment than if it were because of her that her team were to fall short. Plus...An idea had occurred to her. If she could shine...maybe she could catch the attention of a certain someone, prove to him and their families that she could be a competent witch and a suitable match.
This was when it had happened for the first time. Thoughts of Niche actually commending her abilities and the subsequent little fantasies that had followed had filled her with a sudden longing and thrill. The unleashing of the following spell had been [i]explosive[/i]. Where she'd intended to carve a line into the trunk of the tree nearest to her, the sudden crashing and cracking of a small sapling nearby as it toppled to the ground revealed that her spell had not been isolated to only the one target. Somehow, it had split, mirroring itself to the second as well. Surprised but intrigued, she continued to hone that newfound power, replicating it until she could do so at a whim.
[quote][center][b]Word Count: [/b]672[/center][/quote]
[/reducio][/td][/tr]
[tr][td][b][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=7503&start=10#:~:text=the%20higher%20roll).-,Thunderbird%20Tail%20Feather,-Wands%20from%20Thunderbird]Wandmaker[/url][/b] — [[b]Thunderbird Tail Feather[/b] | [b]Larch[/b] | [b]28.6 cm[/b] | [b]Springy[/b]]
[i]Once you reach 30% of your max HP, you gain +2 Arc, +2 Eva, and +2 Acc. If healed above 30%, these bonuses are lost.[/i][/td][td]
[reducio][center]────── R A T I O N A L E ──────[/center]
The family business. It was all Greta's parents seemed to care about for her. Her mother, Astrid, had made it her life's mission to develop and hone her ability as a wandmaker, earning the respect of many wizarding families in central Europe and abroad. For years, she had yearned to see Greta join her in that pursuit, with the plan for her to eventually take the business over when she had come into her own. And for years, Greta had resisted the (not so) gentle urgings, eager instead to follow after her brother in pursuit of whatever flavour of the month had captured his interest. For the longest time, that had been Quidditch.
There had been a certain confidence that had gilded itself upon her heart during her foray of freedom amidst the clouds. Stature and lack of physical prowess meant little in the air and she was free to carve her own significance, learning to support her team in her own way. At least until her parents had pulled her from the team, spouting notions that it was savage, unrefined, and hardly befitting of a young girl such as her. Duelling, they had said, would be more appropriate. More applicable as well, in fact. [i]And[/i] would offer an opportunity to showcase their family wands and demonstrate their superiority of quality and power.
That had meant little to Greta at the time, but as it happened, it quickly became apparent that despite a very notable lack of stamina or physical presence, the Fransson sister had a talent for martial magic. Discipline honed from rearing beneath the expectant gaze of her parents treated her well. She had always been an able caster, but that talent flourished on the duelling team. Carving a certain paradoxical notoriety for herself at school, she even went on to play a significant role in an impressive victory against Hogwarts the past summer.
And yet, despite her apparent skill, she would shrink away from independence. If a decision arose, she would reflexively look to her brother or parents; or an elder student or respected figure if they weren't immediately present. The idea of getting in trouble terrified her; and the thought of disappointing her family left her paralyzed. In a school where confidence was key and a moment of hesitation could mean her undoing, how could she possibly expect to excel as she was now? That notion was all but solidified during her last excursion to Hogwarts. She may as well not have been present at the ball at all for all the good she had done her peers. Her wand work had spared Theo any prolonged embarrassment, but he wouldn't have gotten into that mess in the first place if it weren't for her.
She was useless. Less than useless. Her brother had finally rid himself of her. Her old friends had largely forgotten her. Ella wouldn't talk to her and Niche had probably only accompanied her to the ball that one time out of pity. Or maybe just convenience to keep an eye on his sister. She wasn't special. She wasn't anybody. And try as she might, she couldn't think of any way to change that, not as she was now. But there wasn't really anything she could do about that. Not really. What she could do, however, was distract herself.
She wasn't sure when it had happened, exactly, but at some point she had gotten it into her head to make herself a wand. It wasn't hard, not really. She had helped her mother gather and shape the wood before, and sort and prepare the cores for insertion. The steps were known and the material familiar. She had simply yet to put it all together. And if they wanted her to take over the business eventually, why not start now? The more she thought of it, the more the idea anchored itself. In a way, this would be one stage of striking out on her own. Her wand had been a gift from her mother, something of her creation. Just like she was. Just like her name and the rules that she followed. If there was any hope for her to be her own autonomous being, she would have to discard it with the rest of her shackles. She had already adopted "Greta" ages ago. Margarethe had always sounded so stiff to her. An aged name from a bygone era. The wand would just be the next phase. She could make herself a wand. She would...
[b]Wood: Larch[/b]—
Instilling confidence; that's what larch was well known for. It was one of the reasons that Greta had chosen it for her own wand. She had never felt confident. Not in herself, not in her abilities, not in her place among her family. If it wasn't her brother's shadow, then it was that of her friends. Or rather... those she would have liked to have been able to call friend. She wasn't sure if they considered her as such. How could they, really? She was just a little girl without a presence. She had to fight tooth and nail just to see over their shoulders or through the gaps between them. It was easier to stand on the perimeter and wait to be called. If they ever did. But that wasn't the type of person that she wanted to be. Not forever.
Her mother and father, they had made names for themselves in their careers and in the magical community. Greta wanted to make them proud, to be able to stand her own ground, competent and capable of... [i]something[/i]. Whatever that might have been. She wanted to be able to tell Niche how she felt. To talk to Theo without feeling like she constantly had to look back over her shoulder. She wanted not to cringe at the drop of a pin, or worry about what the others thought of her. And if there really was some hidden truth to Larch.. if it really could help her find her place and draw out some hidden depth of courage she couldn't seem to find on her own... why wouldn't she choose it as her base? Plus, it wasn't like it was a poor choice. It was strong and durable and pretty to look at. It had a warmth to its tone that helped to chase off the chill of the northern Norwegian Spring. It was as good a wood as any other. And maybe it could help...
[b]Core: Thunderbird Tail Feather[/b]—
But what to use as the core? Now that was the real question. In preparation, she had spent time in her mother's store cupboard, handling each core (carefully) one at a time to see if she could detect any kind of connection. Admittedly, she wasn't sure if at any point she did or not. Some of them had left her hands feeling warm, or a fuzzy tingling feeling in her core... but then she couldn't reproduce that same sensation the next time she picked up the same core. There didn't seem to be any sort of consistency and she was left to believe it was all a doing of her own mind. And yet, time and again, she kept coming back to the selection of Thunderbird Tail Feathers. The one that she selected might not have been quite as handsome or pristine as the other, but it spoke to her in a way the others didn't.
She wouldn't have known it at the time, of course, but the feather represented the storm that had start brewing inside of her. The values of her childhood bestowed upon her by her family were raging against those she was beginning to develop on those rare few excursions away from Durmstrang. Like the thunderbird core, there was a certain contrary side of her taking root, a nature that sought to rebel against the status quo and make her own decisions. But she would have to take care in doing so lest the urge present itself in a volatile delinquency better left to Yefim and the rest.
Still, whatever caution she might have felt instinctually at the rise of independence could hardly stem her active desire for self-actualization. Thunderbird wands excel with complicated and large-scale transfigurations. What greater project than the self-actualization and reinventing of self? Of the caster themselves into a form best suited to the wand? One thing that could not ever be denied would be Greta's fighting spirit. As timid and docile as she might present herself under most circumstances, there was a little Valkyrie within her just yearning to take flight. It would come out now and then, showing its face during such times as quidditch and chess, when that black war paint would serve a mask to bring forth that which had been subdued and held down.
It was a perfect fit, really, Thunderbird and Larch. Dangerous, even. It could pave the way for Greta to develop herself as her own individual, breaking from tradition and the binds of family expectation.
[b]Length: 28.6 cm[/b]—
Mousy and timid, few would describe Greta as lively or dramatic. But those were the individuals who only knew her superficially. Beneath the surface and behind her anxious mask stood a girl brimming with life and adventurous spirit. Of course, too long would hardly do. Greta might have been easy to smile and fast to laugh but she wasn't exactly gifted in stature. She was to be wielding a wand, not a yard stick. Still, neither could it be too short. It needed to house a tail feather, after all, and those weren't exactly ungenerous of length. It would be as long as it needed to be.
[b]Flexibility: Springy[/b]—
Ignorant of the realities of the world, Greta had always been a rather impressionable girl. Family values and parental ideals were, for the longest time, taken for face value. She upheld the notions of blood superiority without any reason to question it. Gullible and believing the best of everything and everyone, her beliefs were easily swayed and her path effortlessly redirectable. To say she was flexible would be an understatement. She was effectively without spine. It's a wonder she hadn't simply taken the nearest willow switch as her wand in the early days. But travel and exposure had a way of opening eyes and raising questions. Greta continues to remain flexible, but she is developing her own morality and beliefs and will learn to stand steadfast behind them.
[quote][center][b]Word Count: [/b]1745[/center][/quote]
[/reducio][/td][/tr]
[tr][td][b][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=7503&start=10#:~:text=or%20other%20effects.-,Fearless,-You%20do%20not]Fearless[/url][/b] — [i]Fear effects such as a dhampir's aura, the ability terrible presence, a lycanothrope's intimidation or certain charms, potions and jinxes that would normally cause a fear effect do not work on you as you are immune to them.[/i][/td][td]
[reducio][center]────── R A T I O N A L E ──────[/center]
It hadn't been the easiest of years. As much as Greta had felt a sense of release after severing her bond with Hanzo in order to strike out to be her own person... well... it meant that she had to be her own person. Shadows seemed darker and whispers of sound more ominous when there wasn't someone behind whom she could immediately seek safe haven. Safety had been gained in many ways among her new family. It was hard not to feel well protected when a half-score of boys loomed overhead to leer at anyone who happened to look in her direction the wrong way. But they weren't always around.
What was more, it was sometimes the case that she would have to make a stand for herself against [i]them[/i], something for which she would never have managed the courage at first. Over time, however, she grew accustomed to their habits and tendencies, and how those with the most intimidating exteriors had the softest hearts. Really, it was impossible [i]not[/i] to grow accustomed. Not when Yefim and Mikael seemed to carry with them an aura deeper than any hag or giant. They had never been anything but kind to Greta, and yet she had never quite been able to shake the sense of unease that gripped at her whenever she found herself in their presence. As if any second the slightest insult could trigger...[i]something[/i]. She was just grateful it was never really directed at [i]her[/i]. Usually, anyway. But then there was the boot camp over summer.
The gathering of the Durmstrang team in preparation for the Hexwizard events had been something she couldn't ever possibly have been prepared for. Nevermind pushing them past their limits in training and concentration, Yefim had employed unorthodox tactics to deliberately scare them and test their resolve. More than once, Greta had been reduced to tears. There were times she had been able to power through it, to hold her composure enough to complete whatever trial had been laid before them. Frequently, however, that was not the case. She wasn't like them. There was good reason they felt the need to protect her. As capable and deadly as she could be, it came at the cost of fragility, both of body and mind.
The only time she ever felt any sort of fearless, reckless abandon was when she was in flight, naught but a broom below her. The sky was her domain, and in it, she felt untouchable. As soon as her feet hit the ground, however, it was another story entirely. And she hated it. She could feel the weakness and the way it held the others back. If they were constantly looking over their shoulders to reassure her, how were they ever supposed to be able to tackle the challenges laid before them? Every day that passed with another jolt to her heart from this student or that situation was another gouge to her confidence, but she was the only one that could do anything about it. Yefim had put the gears in motion that summer, and so Greta carried the torch into the year.
For the duration of their stay at Hogwarts and once they had returned home again, she sought—and at times created—opportunities to test her will, to push herself to the limit. Navigating in darkness.. practicing trick maneuvers in the air at heights she might have shied away from previously.. interjecting herself into social situations.. exploring the castle dungeons.. Little by little, the flutters and muscle tensions were more easily abated. It was never truly gone, of course, and now and then it would catch her unawares and unprepared. But for the most part, she no longer let her fear hold her back. If anything, she had learned to let that feeling fuel her into action.
[quote][center][b]Word Count: [/b]642[/center][/quote]
[/reducio][/td][/tr]
[tr][td][b][url=https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?t=7503&start=10#:~:text=through%20personal%20research.-,Lovely%20Creature,-You%20are%20so]Lovely Creature[/url][/b] — [i]You are very distracting to look at. This increases the Control DC of spells in duels and adventures by +2 as well as the DC for finding things in adventures or the DC for finding the snitch in a game of Quidditch. This ability does not stack.[/i][/td][td]
[reducio][center]────── R A T I O N A L E ──────[/center]
Greta had always been a rather unassuming individual. Pureblood parents had always insisted on strict adherence to what they dictated as acceptable behaviour. While her brother was praised for bold action and carving his own path, the same could not be said for the younger of the siblings. Hanzo had never expressed any intention of carrying on the family wandcrafting business, and so that responsibility was placed upon Greta's shoulders. Moreover, given their heritage, it was understood that her parents would one day establish an appropriate matrimonial match for her, if she did not provide an acceptable candidate herself. Sooner, rather than later.
To these ends, she was monitored very carefully. Her parents dictated the classes she could take, the extracurriculars in which she could participate. They instructed her on proper decorum, how to dress, the ways to present and carry herself. Her diet was regulated; her appearance polished. All in the name of good breeding. Not that it ever really seemed to amount to much. Although bubbly and exuberant as a young child, the pressure of expectation and rigid lifestyle had left Greta meek and timid. Without room to spread her wings, she had cowed, bent, in the regime of her parents.
Whether intentional or not, however, this only seemed to add to the appeal she seemed to exude. Through her brother's friends, quidditch, duelling, and her time on Durmstrang's hexwizard team, Greta managed to effortlessly, and quite accidentally, gather a group of those whom she would consider brothers (and the odd sister). The foil to their bulwarks, she retained a delicate character cherished by those surrounding her. Bright smiles came frequently and easily; large doe-eyes sparkled frequently with adventurous innocence; and her persona and wardrobe highlighted a femininity uncommon to the stereotypically dour Durmstrang throngs. She may not have been particularly pleasing to the eye, nor entrancing in her speech. No blood of a veela flowed through her veins to grant her an exceptionally charming appearance.
Nevertheless, those who called her their sister would ever insist that hers was a beauty that was not at all skin deep, but rather a presence that could leaven a moment, bringing relief of light to even the darkest hours. And puberty... it could be a blessing or a curse. But for Greta, she was gifted with the former. Baby fat had gradually faded, her round face slimming to a delicate heart and eyes appearing larger by relativity. The yellow of her straw-coloured hair had faded to a matured ash-blonde, cheeks rouging naturally. Thanks to the interventions of her mother, her teeth were straight and white. And her figure had shifted from that of a twiggish girl, to an athletic young woman. Overall, she had become quite pretty, every image the valkyrie after which she had been monikered.
[quote][center][b]Word Count: [/b]642[/center][/quote]
[/reducio][/td][/tr][/table][/quote][/quote]
[quote][quote][center][size=115]I N V E N T O R Y[/size][/center][/quote]
[quote][center]── I N G R E D I E N T S ──────────────────────────────────────────
[i]n/a[/i][/quote]
[quote][center]── P O T I O N S ───────────────────────────────────────────────
[i]n/a[/i][/quote]
[quote][center]── I T E M S ─────────────────────────────────────────────────
Oakshaft 79 — [i]Antique broom, created in 1879 and used during the first Atlantic crossing back in 1939[/i][/quote]
[/quote][quote][quote][center][size=115]A C T I V I T I E S[/size][/center][/quote]
[quote]1| Is your character a Broom Racer?: NO
2| Is your character a Quidditch Player?: [b]YES[/b]
3| Is your character a Duellist? NO[/quote][/quote]| Evelynn's Trunk | STA | 10 STR | 2 EVA | 15 WIS | 15 ARC | 2 ACC | 12 |
Durmstrang NPC
NPC Name: Mikael Halldorson
Link: LINK
Year: 7th year (6th Year Main)
Stats: +2 from Quidd Wins (Proof & Proof) & +5 from graduation
| Stamina 13 [+2] | Evasion 12 [+2] | Strength 14 | Wisdom 8 [+2] | Arcane Power 7 | Accuracy 12 [+1]|
Abilities: Attacker Awareness
Extracurricular: Broom Racer
Content Changes: Removed Yefim from Mikael's backstory for Jakob to continue going more in-depth into Mikael's childhood.
Coding:
"I doubt you'll remember me with a smile."
| Sta 10 | Eva 6 | Str 12 | Wis 10 | Arc 8 | Acc 13 |
Link: LINK
Year: 7th year (6th Year Main)
Stats: +2 from Quidd Wins (Proof & Proof) & +5 from graduation
| Stamina 13 [+2] | Evasion 12 [+2] | Strength 14 | Wisdom 8 [+2] | Arcane Power 7 | Accuracy 12 [+1]|
Abilities: Attacker Awareness
Reducio
Mikael Halldorson was not too sure when it had begun. The feeling of being more aware. Aware of himself. Aware of his surroundings. The feeling of being watched made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. A chill that cascaded down his back as his heart clenched with a hidden anxiety. Mikael swallowed thickly as he stood ontop of the metal platform. People were milling about him waiting for the large metal train to show up and whisk them away. A part of him wondered if he was just being paranoid. Ever since he saw the dark-haired boy from his past he could not help but feel such ways. Jakob. A name that haunted his very mind. A name that he had not uttered, one that he had not even thought of for such an extended amount of time. Mikael swallowed thickly tension pulling thickly throughout his body. In the far distance the sound of clacking of the train on the tracks was vaguely heard. When was the last time he had been in public without the aching dread that someone was out to get him? Mikael swallowed thickly as he heard a commotion coming from behind him. The loud clacking of the train grew louder. Mikael turned as he noticed movement in the corner of his eye. His eyes widened as he noticed two men staring him down as they pushed their way through the crowd. Mikael swallowed thickly and a part of him could not help but know who probably sent them. He felt hot and cold at the same time, sweating but freezing. He could hear the muffled noise of the announcer announcing boarding. The train was here. The hiss of the doors creaking open sounded like sweet relief to his ears. Mikael took a step back before turning on his heel and moving into the open cart. His eyes widened as he noticed the men move quicker toward the open train doors. The boy moved backward, his back hit something hard. Turning his head quickly to see he had backed straight into someone. No sorry would spill from his lips as he quickly noticed the two men had entered the car. Mikael gritted his teeth together as he moved through the cart, pushing past people and ignoring the noise coming behind him. Mikael dodged about moving towards the exit, the muffled voice turned back on, saying something far too difficult to understand. Mikael pushed forward leaping through the doorway, before spinning around quickly. The doors shut with a hiss just as the men had come up to the door. As Mikael stood there, watching the train leave, the boy breathed out a sigh.
Extracurricular: Broom Racer
Content Changes: Removed Yefim from Mikael's backstory for Jakob to continue going more in-depth into Mikael's childhood.
Coding:
Reducio
STATISTICS| Stamina 13 | Evasion 12 | Strength 14 | Wisdom 8 | Arcane Power 7 | Accuracy 12 |
BROOMFirebolt
[+4 to one stat]
SportBroom Racer
[Durmstrang]
ABILITIESLovely CreatureReducioMikael Halldorson had been told all his life that he could be considered easy on the eyes. It had started when he was fairly little when his grandparents would call him their poster child. He had not thought much about it at the time. Though as Mikael grew up he realized just how much weight that statement would carry. Mikael's family considered Mikael to be their poster child. A child that represented and epitomized the entire family's image. Being the only male heir to the family, Mikael was supposed to look and act his best at all times. This meant staying well-groomed and using his best manners, especially when attending balls. Through schooling, Mikael could not help but notice how other's reacted around him. Boys and girls alike would turn their heads as he walked down the halls. Mikael could get people to do things for him just by giving the smallest bit of attention. The boy could simply smile to get what he wanted. For a child who liked to act out, it was the perfect way to cause trouble. On multiple occasions, the boy would convince others to give him their homework answers. To a child, it was the best thing that could happen even if it was morally wrong. When he was younger he had found it funny. Watching people become desperate over someone so easily. The boy had found thought it to be a silly thing to do. To give your heart over to someone to break. Mikael seemed to distract people just by entering a place. Heads would turn to glance at him as he walked into his class or his dorm. He was told countless times that he was incredibly handsome and that any girl would be lucky to go out with him. Though as Mikael got older he became more resentful of how others treated him. Beauty would only last forever, and he wants to find someone to love him for him. When Mikael entered Durmstrang for his second year, the boy had more incidents of people trying to confess their feelings for him. It bugged the boy to no end since he would do nothing to give these suitors a reason to believe he liked them. Mikael could simply hold a conversation with a girl, and she would take it as flirting. Due to this, Mikael rarely hangs around with girls and instead spends his time with his best friend. [Word Count: 409]Terrible PresenceReducioMikael Halldorson had always tried to be conscious of how other's may perceive him. He wanted nothing more than to fit into the social climate that surrounded him. Afraid of not fitting in, the fear of being rejected by his fellow peers was constantly in the back of his mind. As a young child, Mikael looked to those around him to perceive how his other schoolmates acted. Piecing together a mask, where he was nothing but the golden child to his parents and the friendly student to his peers. Despite this, Mikael could not help but hate the mask he himself had formed and the guidelines he had created for himself. He should be empathetic to those around him and their problems. If someone were to fall he should help them stand back up. If someone were to cry he should do his best to console them. Pretend he actually cares about those around him. Afraid to break his little rules, but hating every second while under them. His fears stuck fast to him like a tar pit unwilling to let go of its latest victim. The mask he wore holding him captive for all of eternity. Yet, ever since Mikael's first year at Durmstrang, his mask has begun to crack. At first, the cracks started small though as time passed they slowly spread across the entirety of his porcelain mask. At the beginning of his third year, Mikael's carefully constructed mask shattered into a million pieces. Unable to handle the stress of continuing to live the lie any further. Mikael couldn't keep pretending he cared for those around him. The need to pretend to be someone he is not and to fit in has vanished. For the first time in a long time, Mikael's face feels naked when he stares into the mirror. Nothing left except his true self, and he swore to himself to never hide behind a mask ever again. It felt like he had finally come home after a long vacation. Though now, an unsettling aura seems to hang constantly around Mikael now as if something about the boy is off. It's like a cloud of smoke hanging and suffocating the surrounding environment. Anyone can see the stark difference between the boy and his younger self. A more genuine boy stands in front of his peers now. Apathetic to those around him. No longer willing to hide behind formalities. [Word Count: 403]PerfectionistReducioIt had always been engrained into his head that anything less than perfection was nothing more than horrid trash. Maybe that was why he wanted to strive to be perfect. No. He had to be perfect. Failure was never an option when it came to Mikael Halldorson. He could not dirty the name of the Halldorson family with his failures. Maybe that was why he took painstaking measures to prevent that from happening. Researching each spell to its full extent. Perfecting the movements of his wand until it was nothing more than muscle memory. Maybe that was why while he dressed he would whisper the incantations to spells. Practice the different enunciations, slowed and sped up. The last thing he wanted, no needed, was for his tongue to slip up in the heat of a duel. He was not too sure if he would be able to survive defeat from another student. So Mikael continued to practice to make sure that when the time came that he would be able to keep his cool. Anger was a necessity as it was a hindrance for a duel. To keep one's head in the midst of chaos and discord had always been his specialty. Sure the anger would lick its flames at his heart, but he had no need to truly listen to it. Mikael was too careful to let anger blind him. He would not allow himself to get beaten due to unpleasant emotions. Emotions could easily through off one's spell. Whether it be anger that made one's wand movements too jerky. Or a timid crack in one's voice due to nervousness. Mikael refused to let that happen to himself. He had practiced countless of hours fighting off training dummies. It had seemed the right decision. To prepare himself for battle. Despite the fact, he did not know when or what battle that would be. His father had always said that it was better to be well prepared than to be scrambling around trying to remember up from down. He wanted to be able to rely on himself and his abilities. Without the worry that there would be a crack in the foundation of Mikael Halldorson. The only person he could trust to get himself through a fight was himself and himself alone. That was why he knew when the time would come for when he would have to draw his wand. He would be able to trust himself. [Word Count: 408]FearlessReducioFear was something that was supposed to be natural. Biological wiring which kept people afraid for the survival of the species. It was something that was natural, and yet Mikael could not say that he had ever been truly fearful in his life. As a child, he had never been scared of the dark or the boogeyman. His parents had voiced their confusion when he never had a period of time he wanted his light be on. It seemed like second nature when he would mount his broom at the start of a race. Despite knowing the probability that he would come away possibly injured. Instead, it seemed to fuel him. The ever-present rush as the wind whipped at his cheeks. Staining them a ruddy color. At a point in time, he would have said he was unable to feel fear. It seemed so correct in that statement. Yet now he found himself shaken. His and Valentin's fight had left him lost and broken. Once before strong stone is now worn away by the changing tide. He had been incorrect in his assessment of the pale boy. Having been far stronger than he had ever hoped to imagine. It angered him how much it had shaken him. Mikael licked his lips his tired eyes staring dimly down upon the wand that rested in his hand. How could he have been so careless to lose to a twig of a boy? Something so small and meaningless, and yet he had been bested. Fear gripped tightly at his heart as he too gripped harshly onto the wood of his wand. Had it all been for naught? Would he now be shunned from the only light source he had been granted these past few years? The boy could practically see the lighthouse dimming in the distance. The water lapped dangerously at his chin. Would he go under again? The dark abyss seemed to grab hold of his legs threatening to pull him down. It was not until Valentin had helped him back up that it had truly rebroken these thoughts. Arms wrapped about him as if holding the pieces of himself together. He had lost and yet he was still being brought back into open arms. Something that felt foreign and far too uncomfortable for his heart to handle. It seemed so surreal that such a failure would not render him useless. In the warmth of Valentin's arms, he found solid ground once more. Maybe he wasn't truly fearless, but there was strength in their group. The three of them until the very end, and that seemed good enough. [Word Count: 437]Statistically RelevantReducioMikael hated the feeling of being weak. Feeling so hopeless and unable to change anything around him. It had been a feeling that followed him his entire life. Watching his once thriving household fracture like fragile porcelain. His father had not been strong enough to pick up the remnants of his mother, and she had disappeared. Disappearing into the dark to never be seen again. Not till three days later when they had found her. Something about finding her had cemented a dark hatred for the weakness in his father's heart. Something that turned and churned in desperate anger. Though, it appeared the apple had not fallen far from the tree. He had felt weak when he had been encumbered at the first task. The first task of many and he had gone down far too quickly for his own liking. The feeling of weakness followed him as he watched his beautiful and perfect Yefim leave him. How badly that one had stung him, standing motionless in the wake of the boy. His emotions lay bare as he tried to pull the fragments of himself together without the help of his stabilizing force. Now, being below the surface of the water, unable to call out for help. His clothes sticking to him feeling as heavy as lead. Clinging to him like a vice grip. Forcing him further down. He could not help but want to scream out in pain. He hated this feeling. The uneasiness of it all. How much he despised it. Mikael didn't want to be weak and as he watched the light above fade away he wished nothing more than to show the world how strong he could be. If only he could have the chance to, but not now. Not ever. That event had happened three days ago, and as Mikael pondered about the events of what happened in the lake he could not help but cement his views. He no longer wanted to be weak. He didn't want to feel like this anymore. It pushed him forward, and the boy decided then and there. Mikael would force himself forward trying to get stronger. To be something untouchable. If Yefim wasn't here to protect him....he'd just have to do it himself. So Mikael did, putting effort into his physical strength. The boy would work on himself in the early mornings when he was free from any practices or school work. Mikael would notice subtle changes in his physique. He felt stronger than he ever had and the feeling almost made him smile.[Word Count: 426]Attacker AwarnessReducioMikael Halldorson was not too sure when it had begun. The feeling of being more aware. Aware of himself. Aware of his surroundings. The feeling of being watched made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. A chill that cascaded down his back as his heart clenched with a hidden anxiety. Mikael swallowed thickly as he stood ontop of the metal platform. People were milling about him waiting for the large metal train to show up and whisk them away. A part of him wondered if he was just being paranoid. Ever since he saw the dark-haired boy from his past he could not help but feel such ways. Jakob. A name that haunted his very mind. A name that he had not uttered, one that he had not even thought of for such an extended amount of time. Mikael swallowed thickly tension pulling thickly throughout his body. In the far distance the sound of clacking of the train on the tracks was vaguely heard. When was the last time he had been in public without the aching dread that someone was out to get him? Mikael swallowed thickly as he heard a commotion coming from behind him. The loud clacking of the train grew louder. Mikael turned as he noticed movement in the corner of his eye. His eyes widened as he noticed two men staring him down as they pushed their way through the crowd. Mikael swallowed thickly and a part of him could not help but know who probably sent them. He felt hot and cold at the same time, sweating but freezing. He could hear the muffled noise of the announcer announcing boarding. The train was here. The hiss of the doors creaking open sounded like sweet relief to his ears. Mikael took a step back before turning on his heel and moving into the open cart. His eyes widened as he noticed the men move quicker toward the open train doors. The boy moved backward, his back hit something hard. Turning his head quickly to see he had backed straight into someone. No sorry would spill from his lips as he quickly noticed the two men had entered the car. Mikael gritted his teeth together as he moved through the cart, pushing past people and ignoring the noise coming behind him. Mikael dodged about moving towards the exit, the muffled voice turned back on, saying something far too difficult to understand. Mikael pushed forward leaping through the doorway, before spinning around quickly. The doors shut with a hiss just as the men had come up to the door. As Mikael stood there, watching the train leave, the boy breathed out a sigh. [Word Count: 450 ]
"I doubt you'll remember me with a smile."
| Sta 10 | Eva 6 | Str 12 | Wis 10 | Arc 8 | Acc 13 |
Durmstrang NPC
Name: Hans Jenssen
School: Durmstrang
Year: third (pc second post-graduation)
Status: Half-blood
Appearance: Hans, a lean young man, considered tall and well-muscled for his age, always has his shoulders squared and head high, the epitome of confidence. A few moles resemble miniscule flecks of paint upon an ivory - usually tanned in the summertime - canvas. His eyes, seemingly endless wells of dark brown, almost undifferentiable from the black of his irises, are set under straight brows. With a Greek nose and strong jawline, his features are sharper than most his age, but Hans' usual nonchalant smirk sets different tones. His hair, a dark brown, sometimes varies in length and style, but usually ends at the nape of his neck. A fringe is either been held upwards or been let to casually fall on his forehead. Hans is unconcerned regarding fashion, unhesitant to wear whatever his parents buy for him, usually a variety of athletic clothing.
History:
Is your character a Quidditch Player? NO
Is your character a Duellist? NO
Stats: Sta: 8 | Eva: 10 | Str: 5 | Wis: 5 | ArcP: 2 | Acc: 10
Abilities: Fearless
School: Durmstrang
Year: third (pc second post-graduation)
Status: Half-blood
Appearance: Hans, a lean young man, considered tall and well-muscled for his age, always has his shoulders squared and head high, the epitome of confidence. A few moles resemble miniscule flecks of paint upon an ivory - usually tanned in the summertime - canvas. His eyes, seemingly endless wells of dark brown, almost undifferentiable from the black of his irises, are set under straight brows. With a Greek nose and strong jawline, his features are sharper than most his age, but Hans' usual nonchalant smirk sets different tones. His hair, a dark brown, sometimes varies in length and style, but usually ends at the nape of his neck. A fringe is either been held upwards or been let to casually fall on his forehead. Hans is unconcerned regarding fashion, unhesitant to wear whatever his parents buy for him, usually a variety of athletic clothing.
Reducio
Personality: Quite simply a projection of boyish confidence, Hans radiates protagonist energy, constantly placing himself into the shoes of the main character, the knight in shining armour, the hero of the story. However, this halo he had painted around himself can sometimes turn into cockiness or arrogance. He is outspoken and mischievous, disliking authority and shows it from talking back to playing pranks, even if it gets him into troubling situations. Hans does not much care for this, due to his laid-back, nonchalant personality, a composed trait in stressful situations, an indifferent one in consequential decisions. Despite this, he would grow to be much more ambitious and, expanding on his current courage, much more reckless. What Hans truly detests is the notion of fear, having been raised in such an environment, he came to grow sick of it [further explored in "Fearless" application]. Hans is the first person one would want to have as a friend, forever loyal if you have earned his trust, forever ready to put everything in line for one person, forever prepared to take out the world for them. The careless shell often fractures as one starts to truly know Hans, for in his heart he genuinely cares deeply about all who he befriends, empathetic to the core and hurt to see his second family in misery. His respect is usually difficult to gain, but once gained, he would owe you all the respect he has. Yet Hans is also the last person one would want to have as an enemy, with wrath as a deadly sin, he would not hesitate to wrong whoever had wronged him back, since for him, an eye for an eye is only fair. History:
Reducio
Is your character a Broom Racer? YESBerlin, Germany, a city in a constant bustle, always felt as if it did not have time to spare for dawdling or idleness. As frustrated drivers honked, vexed couples, and content mates chatted, the Charité Hospital was buzzing to a much different cacophony: beeping monitors, hushed conversations, rushing footsteps. And in one of the rooms, dark-haired, ebony-eyed male babe had just squirmed his way out of his mother’s womb.
Only child of Muggle surgeon Klaus Jenssen, employed by a small private hospital and Witch Greta Jenssen (née Hoffman), working a Muggle career as an accountant for Deutsche Bank. Between a strictly Christian father and a mother deathly afraid of magic (due to her own beyond negative experiences at Durmstrang as a child), who prayed for her own child to be a squib, Hans' supernatural growth was never appreciated or even kept track of as he grew. Therefore, it is unclear when Hans experienced his first actual instance of magic. His maternal grandfather, Otto - the man who attempted to introduce him to the barest rudiments of magic despite his daughter's warnings against, the man who, in fact, spent the most time with his grandson - would date it to quite late for magical children, roughly around Han's ninth year, when, after not achieving a desired time for a swim competition, swells (not quite large enough for waves, not quite small enough for ripples) appeared across the surface of the water before promptly dissipating. The irregularity was miniscule, yet it was still noticed by and noted down by Otto, even as such incidents slipped away from Hans' memory.
However, as said incidents built up over a year, though most of them still benign, Otto finally decided it was time to inform his daughter and son-in-law, especially as the appropriate age for Durmstrang was just around the corner. This was a particularly unpleasant situation. The first stage was denial. When Greta had married Klaus, she had agreed to renounce magic forever, not due to her own phobia, but also to respect Klaus' religious believes and of course, now, refused to believe that her son would undergo the same "curse". The second stage was anger. The couple had labelled Otto has senile, and as much as he wanted to control his magic, Hans', who had been eavesdropping from the door, own rage at their indifference and fear was unleashed upon one of the vases, a prized piece of china Greta had collected. For the first time, Hans' powers were directly presented in front of his parents, and for the first time, he had caused actual harm. The third stage was reluctant (and very reluctant) acceptance. Greta realised that in order for Hans' to control his magic, it was only necessary for him to properly learn them, and so, the decision to Durmstrang was made.
Prior to this, Hans enjoyed a relatively mundane childhood. He was never quite as close with his parents as he desired. He often felt them to be restrictive and traditional, not only in his practice of magic, but also in actively trying to shape his life into the perfect son they so desired - talented athlete (a role he fulfilled with gratitude, mostly in swimming, athletics, basketball, football, or whatever sport he could get his hands on, and with far less gratitude in chess), perfect student (despite his intelligence - though perhaps more quick-wit than wisdom, most curriculum materials failed to interest him), and devoted son (this was - and of course, still is - most problematic, especially as he enters into teenage rebellion). Hans shared a much closer bond with Otto, as not only he supported the lad's potential, but also his passions, allowing him to explore himself further and display the much more daring, reckless, and for that matter - the much more "him" side of himself. Before Klaus' and Greta's shifts ended, Otto would always make sure to spend quality time with Hans, such as frequent walks and inane running around the park, playing board games like Monopoly, and enjoying food or give him the space he needed, such as trips to the mall with mates that he would rather enjoy without an adult.
Money was never an issue for the Jenssen family and even though they rarely indulged, there was always wealth waiting when it was necessary or when the slight luxury felt appropriate. The three members of Hans' immediate family usually travels to nearby European countries during the holidays, especially since Klaus' odd shifts can result in time lost with his son. The Jenssens resides in a double decker flat at the peak of an apartment building close to the city centre of Berlin.
As a schoolboy, Hans was sent to a private kindergarten - though not scoring high on the scale of expense - at the age of three until six and public elementary school at the age of six until eleven. Throughout both kindergarten and elementary school, Hans was a strikingly popular student. Despite his mischievous antics from time to time, generally high-achieving grades (more due to pressure from his parents than actual interest) and clear athletic talent usually covered for him. Among his peers, his outspokenness, laid back personality, and confident demeanour earned Hans a myriad of friends, whether from the neighbourhood, sports teams, or classes, but only a few of which he wished not to move on from. Due to his above-average grades, Klaus and Greta had received information their son would enter a gymnasium, a German prestigious secondary education facility, but the decision for him to transfer to Drumstrang was made prior, a decision Klaus and Greta would start to regret.
And as Hans did indeed enter Durmstrang, he excelled in his studies, finally not to satisfy his parent's expectations, but because the supernatural truly interested him, especially with each warning from Greta. The more his parents presented their unease towards his studies, the more he wanted to conquer it. This mindset will eventually lead to actual dangers, but for now, it fulfilled its role of providing the lad with motivation. He refused to come anywhere but on top, after all. Of course, though, in terms of social life, school was the same, with or without magic, and popularity never seemed to fall, especially due to Hans' extroverted personality and adaptable nature, and eventually even joined the broom-racing team.
There are still many years ahead of Hans Jenssen, and perhaps, just perhaps, with the passage of time, he would find his reputation slipping away, for the first time in his life.
Only child of Muggle surgeon Klaus Jenssen, employed by a small private hospital and Witch Greta Jenssen (née Hoffman), working a Muggle career as an accountant for Deutsche Bank. Between a strictly Christian father and a mother deathly afraid of magic (due to her own beyond negative experiences at Durmstrang as a child), who prayed for her own child to be a squib, Hans' supernatural growth was never appreciated or even kept track of as he grew. Therefore, it is unclear when Hans experienced his first actual instance of magic. His maternal grandfather, Otto - the man who attempted to introduce him to the barest rudiments of magic despite his daughter's warnings against, the man who, in fact, spent the most time with his grandson - would date it to quite late for magical children, roughly around Han's ninth year, when, after not achieving a desired time for a swim competition, swells (not quite large enough for waves, not quite small enough for ripples) appeared across the surface of the water before promptly dissipating. The irregularity was miniscule, yet it was still noticed by and noted down by Otto, even as such incidents slipped away from Hans' memory.
However, as said incidents built up over a year, though most of them still benign, Otto finally decided it was time to inform his daughter and son-in-law, especially as the appropriate age for Durmstrang was just around the corner. This was a particularly unpleasant situation. The first stage was denial. When Greta had married Klaus, she had agreed to renounce magic forever, not due to her own phobia, but also to respect Klaus' religious believes and of course, now, refused to believe that her son would undergo the same "curse". The second stage was anger. The couple had labelled Otto has senile, and as much as he wanted to control his magic, Hans', who had been eavesdropping from the door, own rage at their indifference and fear was unleashed upon one of the vases, a prized piece of china Greta had collected. For the first time, Hans' powers were directly presented in front of his parents, and for the first time, he had caused actual harm. The third stage was reluctant (and very reluctant) acceptance. Greta realised that in order for Hans' to control his magic, it was only necessary for him to properly learn them, and so, the decision to Durmstrang was made.
Prior to this, Hans enjoyed a relatively mundane childhood. He was never quite as close with his parents as he desired. He often felt them to be restrictive and traditional, not only in his practice of magic, but also in actively trying to shape his life into the perfect son they so desired - talented athlete (a role he fulfilled with gratitude, mostly in swimming, athletics, basketball, football, or whatever sport he could get his hands on, and with far less gratitude in chess), perfect student (despite his intelligence - though perhaps more quick-wit than wisdom, most curriculum materials failed to interest him), and devoted son (this was - and of course, still is - most problematic, especially as he enters into teenage rebellion). Hans shared a much closer bond with Otto, as not only he supported the lad's potential, but also his passions, allowing him to explore himself further and display the much more daring, reckless, and for that matter - the much more "him" side of himself. Before Klaus' and Greta's shifts ended, Otto would always make sure to spend quality time with Hans, such as frequent walks and inane running around the park, playing board games like Monopoly, and enjoying food or give him the space he needed, such as trips to the mall with mates that he would rather enjoy without an adult.
Money was never an issue for the Jenssen family and even though they rarely indulged, there was always wealth waiting when it was necessary or when the slight luxury felt appropriate. The three members of Hans' immediate family usually travels to nearby European countries during the holidays, especially since Klaus' odd shifts can result in time lost with his son. The Jenssens resides in a double decker flat at the peak of an apartment building close to the city centre of Berlin.
As a schoolboy, Hans was sent to a private kindergarten - though not scoring high on the scale of expense - at the age of three until six and public elementary school at the age of six until eleven. Throughout both kindergarten and elementary school, Hans was a strikingly popular student. Despite his mischievous antics from time to time, generally high-achieving grades (more due to pressure from his parents than actual interest) and clear athletic talent usually covered for him. Among his peers, his outspokenness, laid back personality, and confident demeanour earned Hans a myriad of friends, whether from the neighbourhood, sports teams, or classes, but only a few of which he wished not to move on from. Due to his above-average grades, Klaus and Greta had received information their son would enter a gymnasium, a German prestigious secondary education facility, but the decision for him to transfer to Drumstrang was made prior, a decision Klaus and Greta would start to regret.
And as Hans did indeed enter Durmstrang, he excelled in his studies, finally not to satisfy his parent's expectations, but because the supernatural truly interested him, especially with each warning from Greta. The more his parents presented their unease towards his studies, the more he wanted to conquer it. This mindset will eventually lead to actual dangers, but for now, it fulfilled its role of providing the lad with motivation. He refused to come anywhere but on top, after all. Of course, though, in terms of social life, school was the same, with or without magic, and popularity never seemed to fall, especially due to Hans' extroverted personality and adaptable nature, and eventually even joined the broom-racing team.
There are still many years ahead of Hans Jenssen, and perhaps, just perhaps, with the passage of time, he would find his reputation slipping away, for the first time in his life.
Is your character a Quidditch Player? NO
Is your character a Duellist? NO
Stats: Sta: 8 | Eva: 10 | Str: 5 | Wis: 5 | ArcP: 2 | Acc: 10
Abilities: Fearless
Reducio
Charmer: If Hans Jenssen was a wolf, he would have been drunk on the scent of fear.
It had always clung to the family - mostly with subtlety, though sometimes more pungent than others – like how moist moss clung to rocks. Greta Jenssen, under maternal pressure, climate of opinion, and Durmstrang’s Dark Arts curriculum, came to truly understand the treachery of magic, through certain unsightly scenes she had experienced at the Institute. Combined with the traditional beliefs of devoted Christian Klaus Jenssen, the situation eventually aggravated to the point where they had become fearful of their own son, sending him to Durmstrang out of disease at his abilities. It was disgusting. It was pathetic. It was shameful.
It was all the motivation Hans required to be nothing like his predecessors. Ever since Hans’ accidental instances of magic became particularly noticeable to his parents, at around the age of ten, he had been told to dampen his powers, to stay wary of himself, to never allow emotions to get the better of him and for his magic to lose control, to fear himself. Of course, that was exactly what he did not. Hans saw fear as the weakness that held back her mother’s (once a successful witch) true potential and would only hold him back from what he could achieve. Fear was a wild land of doubts that required conquering and taming, so taming was what he would do. He would not heed to it, rather, he would make fear heed to him.
Reckless, they had called Hans, always the one to climb the highest tree (even when it seemed as if it could not support his weight), seek out the steepest route on a climb (even when the rocks seemed loose), dip into the deepest waters (even when the currents looked slightly too treacherous). He talked back to teachers, which only seemed to escalate any trouble he was in, disagreed with coaches, despite their strategies being flawless, and most importantly, disobeyed his parents, reading any texts he could get his hands on magic, fiction or not, all without a second thought or a droplet of fear about the following consequences. Yet like anything, fearlessness was a double-sided coin and to Otto Hoffman, Hans’ maternal grandfather, a quality, especially after he had witnessed the downfall of his own daughter. What started as courage was nurtured into a dare-devil nature, yet Otto withheld the belief that with his careful honing, it can become Hans strongest trait.
Perhaps, it did, but it also became one of his weakest. For he was not truly fearless. He was phobophobic, afraid of fear itself. How ironic.
It had always clung to the family - mostly with subtlety, though sometimes more pungent than others – like how moist moss clung to rocks. Greta Jenssen, under maternal pressure, climate of opinion, and Durmstrang’s Dark Arts curriculum, came to truly understand the treachery of magic, through certain unsightly scenes she had experienced at the Institute. Combined with the traditional beliefs of devoted Christian Klaus Jenssen, the situation eventually aggravated to the point where they had become fearful of their own son, sending him to Durmstrang out of disease at his abilities. It was disgusting. It was pathetic. It was shameful.
It was all the motivation Hans required to be nothing like his predecessors. Ever since Hans’ accidental instances of magic became particularly noticeable to his parents, at around the age of ten, he had been told to dampen his powers, to stay wary of himself, to never allow emotions to get the better of him and for his magic to lose control, to fear himself. Of course, that was exactly what he did not. Hans saw fear as the weakness that held back her mother’s (once a successful witch) true potential and would only hold him back from what he could achieve. Fear was a wild land of doubts that required conquering and taming, so taming was what he would do. He would not heed to it, rather, he would make fear heed to him.
Reckless, they had called Hans, always the one to climb the highest tree (even when it seemed as if it could not support his weight), seek out the steepest route on a climb (even when the rocks seemed loose), dip into the deepest waters (even when the currents looked slightly too treacherous). He talked back to teachers, which only seemed to escalate any trouble he was in, disagreed with coaches, despite their strategies being flawless, and most importantly, disobeyed his parents, reading any texts he could get his hands on magic, fiction or not, all without a second thought or a droplet of fear about the following consequences. Yet like anything, fearlessness was a double-sided coin and to Otto Hoffman, Hans’ maternal grandfather, a quality, especially after he had witnessed the downfall of his own daughter. What started as courage was nurtured into a dare-devil nature, yet Otto withheld the belief that with his careful honing, it can become Hans strongest trait.
Perhaps, it did, but it also became one of his weakest. For he was not truly fearless. He was phobophobic, afraid of fear itself. How ironic.
Reducio
Trunk coding: It might seem to the casual eye that despite being from a magic-intolerant half-blood family, Hans Jenssen had every opportunity in front of him.
He seemed to be the main character of his custom-tailored chronicle, a spotlight following him as it does the lead singer, from the way he kept his eye contact, his head high, his posture straight yet relaxed, his clear articulation. He took easy initiative without much thought, able to rally all audience members with a chef's salad of humour, persuasion, passion, and casual, comfortable, confidence. He knows how to drive a point home and knows how to do it in a way so others would be behind him. As former team captain of his school's football team, leadership seems almost like second nature, something he almost derives strength from.
Hans has a certain composure to him that he almost never loses, an obviously positive yet seemingly careless nature. With friends and positive acquaintances, Hans feels like a ball of sunshine and positivity, all smiles, easy laughs, and radiations of enthusiasm. Such an upbeat aura draws others in with interest and causes them to want to spend time with the boy. He is actively assertive and outgoing, never against associating himself with new people as long as they share fairly similar values or interests. Once such associate have become those he could call friends, he is especially caring and loyal, trait that would only go on to draw in more people to befriend him.
However, perhaps do to his young age, he never takes anything quite that seriously, a flaw, certainly, yet exuding a peculiar innocent charm, especially popular among his classmates back in elementary school. This nature entailed a lighthearted and jovial outlook with a particularly nonchalant nature that was almost rarely seen in Durmstrang's prestigious and uptight environment. While Hans would argue that the academy required some relaxation from time to time, he also knows when to halt. Fun, games, and jests are certainly alright, but with professors, it always had to stop at a certain point for his grades to begin. He presents himself as eager to learn magic (which he is, due to not having been exposed to it for most of his life) yet not as a "teacher's pet" if one would. This did wonders at earning him respect in a condition where the powerful and successful were valued above others. Finding a balance seemed essential, as being too respected often led to intimidation, he found, as well as a much colder reputation than he desired.
What is charming? One might enquire such. If it had anything related to popularity and pleasantry with masses, then Hans was fairly quite the master.
He seemed to be the main character of his custom-tailored chronicle, a spotlight following him as it does the lead singer, from the way he kept his eye contact, his head high, his posture straight yet relaxed, his clear articulation. He took easy initiative without much thought, able to rally all audience members with a chef's salad of humour, persuasion, passion, and casual, comfortable, confidence. He knows how to drive a point home and knows how to do it in a way so others would be behind him. As former team captain of his school's football team, leadership seems almost like second nature, something he almost derives strength from.
Hans has a certain composure to him that he almost never loses, an obviously positive yet seemingly careless nature. With friends and positive acquaintances, Hans feels like a ball of sunshine and positivity, all smiles, easy laughs, and radiations of enthusiasm. Such an upbeat aura draws others in with interest and causes them to want to spend time with the boy. He is actively assertive and outgoing, never against associating himself with new people as long as they share fairly similar values or interests. Once such associate have become those he could call friends, he is especially caring and loyal, trait that would only go on to draw in more people to befriend him.
However, perhaps do to his young age, he never takes anything quite that seriously, a flaw, certainly, yet exuding a peculiar innocent charm, especially popular among his classmates back in elementary school. This nature entailed a lighthearted and jovial outlook with a particularly nonchalant nature that was almost rarely seen in Durmstrang's prestigious and uptight environment. While Hans would argue that the academy required some relaxation from time to time, he also knows when to halt. Fun, games, and jests are certainly alright, but with professors, it always had to stop at a certain point for his grades to begin. He presents himself as eager to learn magic (which he is, due to not having been exposed to it for most of his life) yet not as a "teacher's pet" if one would. This did wonders at earning him respect in a condition where the powerful and successful were valued above others. Finding a balance seemed essential, as being too respected often led to intimidation, he found, as well as a much colder reputation than he desired.
What is charming? One might enquire such. If it had anything related to popularity and pleasantry with masses, then Hans was fairly quite the master.
Code: Select all
[center][size=125][b]- t r u n k -[/b][/size]
[color=#831212][size=85][i]i control the game, or i don't play[/i][/size][/color][/center][center][quote][size=75]Sta: 8 | Eva: 10 | Str: 5 | Wis: 5 | ArcP: 2 | Acc: 10
[size=95]broom racer: yes | quidditch player: no | duellist: no[/size][/size][/quote][/center][reducio][right][size=85][b]year 1.[/b] fearless[/size][/right][reducio][quote][size=75]If Hans Jenssen was a wolf, he would have been drunk on the scent of fear.
It had always clung to the family - mostly with subtlety, though sometimes more pungent than others – like how moist moss clung to rocks. Greta Jenssen, under maternal pressure, climate of opinion, and Durmstrang’s Dark Arts curriculum, came to truly understand the treachery of magic, through certain unsightly scenes she had experienced at the Institute. Combined with the traditional beliefs of devoted Christian Klaus Jenssen, the situation eventually aggravated to the point where they had become fearful of their own son, sending him to Durmstrang out of disease at his abilities. It was disgusting. It was pathetic. It was shameful.
It was all the motivation Hans required to be nothing like his predecessors. Ever since Hans’ accidental instances of magic became particularly noticeable to his parents, at around the age of ten, he had been told to dampen his powers, to stay wary of himself, to never allow emotions to get the better of him and for his magic to lose control, to fear himself. Of course, that was exactly what he did not. Hans saw fear as the weakness that held back her mother’s (once a successful witch) true potential and would only hold him back from what he could achieve. Fear was a wild land of doubts that required conquering and taming, so taming was what he would do. He would not heed to it, rather, he would make fear heed to him.
Reckless, they had called Hans, always the one to climb the highest tree (even when it seemed as if it could not support his weight), seek out the steepest route on a climb (even when the rocks seemed loose), dip into the deepest waters (even when the currents looked slightly too treacherous). He talked back to teachers, which only seemed to escalate any trouble he was in, disagreed with coaches, despite their strategies being flawless, and most importantly, disobeyed his parents, reading any texts he could get his hands on magic, fiction or not, all without a second thought or a droplet of fear about the following consequences. Yet like anything, fearlessness was a double-sided coin and to Otto Hoffman, Hans’ maternal grandfather, a quality, especially after he had witnessed the downfall of his own daughter. What started as courage was nurtured into a dare-devil nature, yet Otto withheld the belief that with his careful honing, it can become Hans strongest trait.
Perhaps, it did, but it also became one of his weakest. For he was not truly fearless. He was phobophobic, afraid of fear itself. How ironic.[/size][/quote][/reducio][right][size=85][b]year 2.[/b] charmer[/size] [/right][reducio]It might seem to the casual eye that despite being from a magic-intolerant half-blood family, Hans Jenssen had every opportunity in front of him.
He seemed to be the main character of his custom-tailored chronicle, a spotlight following him as it does the lead singer, from the way he kept his eye contact, his head high, his posture straight yet relaxed, his clear articulation. He took easy initiative without much thought, able to rally all audience members with a chef's salad of humour, persuasion, passion, and casual, comfortable, confidence. He knows how to drive a point home and knows how to do it in a way so others would be behind him. As former team captain of his school's football team, leadership seems almost like second nature, something he almost derives strength from.
Hans has a certain composure to him that he almost never loses, an obviously positive yet seemingly careless nature. With friends and positive acquaintances, Hans feels like a ball of sunshine and positivity, all smiles, easy laughs, and radiations of enthusiasm. Such an upbeat aura draws others in with interest and causes them to want to spend time with the boy. He is actively assertive and outgoing, never against associating himself with new people as long as they share fairly similar values or interests. Once such associate have become those he could call friends, he is especially caring and loyal, trait that would only go on to draw in more people to befriend him.
However, perhaps do to his young age, he never takes anything quite that seriously, a flaw, certainly, yet exuding a peculiar innocent charm, especially popular among his classmates back in elementary school. This nature entailed a lighthearted and jovial outlook with a particularly nonchalant nature that was almost rarely seen in Durmstrang's prestigious and uptight environment. While Hans would argue that the academy required some relaxation from time to time, he also knows when to halt. Fun, games, and jests are certainly alright, but with professors, it always had to stop at a certain point for his grades to begin. He presents himself as eager to learn magic (which he is, due to not having been exposed to it for most of his life) yet not as a "teacher's pet" if one would. This did wonders at earning him respect in a condition where the powerful and successful were valued above others. Finding a balance seemed essential, as being too respected often led to intimidation, he found, as well as a much colder reputation than he desired.
What is charming? One might enquire such. If it had anything related to popularity and pleasantry with masses, then Hans was fairly quite the master.[/reducio][/reducio]| Archer Theodore Duncan The innocent and beautiful have no enemy but time. | Johannes "Hans" Jenssen The fault is in not in our stars, but in ourselves. |
Durmstrang NPC
NPC Name: Niklaus Havertz
Link: Accio Ency
Year: 4th year
Stats:
Old stats: Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 10 | Strength: 1 | Wisdom: 9 | ArcPower: 2 | Accuracy: 10
New stats: Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 10 | Strength: 1 | Wisdom: 9 | ArcPower: 5 | Accuracy: 15
Total 45 +1 from win | +1 from win
Abilities:
Perfectionist II
Extracurricular: He is a duellist
Link: Accio Ency
Year: 4th year
Stats:
Old stats: Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 10 | Strength: 1 | Wisdom: 9 | ArcPower: 2 | Accuracy: 10
New stats: Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 10 | Strength: 1 | Wisdom: 9 | ArcPower: 5 | Accuracy: 15
Total 45 +1 from win | +1 from win
Abilities:
Perfectionist II
Reducio
Last year was a year of changes in Klaus' life, but these changes only brought more awareness, ambition and determination to the young German. He did everything according to plan, his mother was proud of him and his achievements, his father continued to encourage him in the best way he knew how despite his detached personality. And Alaric... well, Alaric was still himself, even though his victory in the last Quidditch game during summer camp at Hogwarts brought Klaus a feeling of jealousy and wounded pride, being used to being the golden, shining son of Havertz family. He was the prodigal son, the one who was supposed to bring honor and glory to his family, but then he failed to win his own competition against the Slytherin trio. It was shameful! Klaus felt his ego being brutally hurt when he learned that not all of them were pure-bloods, with some being half-brees with their blood stained by lesser creatures. Klaus found the way things turned out for him pathetic, which did not improve his views and opinions on Hogwarts.
But what it also did was increase the iron and unshakable determination that awakened within him, to make his training even more intense and strict. There was no space for more failures, specially when he carried the responsibility of his family name and prestige as the oldest son. It was and will continue to be a constant and present pressure in his life, to overcome his features, to achieve his goals brilliantly not leaving behind doubts of his talent and powerful bloodline. A safe and immutable place in high society has always been a facade, behind it, it was a struggle, there was no time without the scrutiny of others, there was no time when the struggle for power and greed gave respite to those who held those places. Klaus knew this, he knew this too well, as he had been raised to face this reality and feel the full weight of it.
Thus, always under the strict supervision of his mother, Klaus spent his time at home practicing his spellcasting. And when he was at Durmstrang, his schoolmates could find him diligently refining his magical skills. He always takes the time to focus on his targets, his mind working on the correct pronunciation of words before saying the incantations correctly and well articulated. The correct movements of his wand were repeated countless times until they felt natural to him. His wand was an extension of his arm, it was part of him and without it he would feel incomplete. Without being able to prove himself worthy of his own blood, his whole existence would be a shame and he wouldn't let that sentiment to prevail, he would overcome himself over and over again, he would prove himself better than his peers, better that anyone crossing his path.
477 word count
But what it also did was increase the iron and unshakable determination that awakened within him, to make his training even more intense and strict. There was no space for more failures, specially when he carried the responsibility of his family name and prestige as the oldest son. It was and will continue to be a constant and present pressure in his life, to overcome his features, to achieve his goals brilliantly not leaving behind doubts of his talent and powerful bloodline. A safe and immutable place in high society has always been a facade, behind it, it was a struggle, there was no time without the scrutiny of others, there was no time when the struggle for power and greed gave respite to those who held those places. Klaus knew this, he knew this too well, as he had been raised to face this reality and feel the full weight of it.
Thus, always under the strict supervision of his mother, Klaus spent his time at home practicing his spellcasting. And when he was at Durmstrang, his schoolmates could find him diligently refining his magical skills. He always takes the time to focus on his targets, his mind working on the correct pronunciation of words before saying the incantations correctly and well articulated. The correct movements of his wand were repeated countless times until they felt natural to him. His wand was an extension of his arm, it was part of him and without it he would feel incomplete. Without being able to prove himself worthy of his own blood, his whole existence would be a shame and he wouldn't let that sentiment to prevail, he would overcome himself over and over again, he would prove himself better than his peers, better that anyone crossing his path.
477 word count
Extracurricular: He is a duellist