Application for Hogwarts School
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.Name:
Grier Fitzgerald CamdenBirthday:
October 24th, 1937Hometown:
Newton Heath, Manchester, EnglandBloodline:
HalfbloodMagical Strength (pick one):
CharmsMagical Weakness (pick one):
Divination Year (pick two):
First (preferred), SecondBiography:
“Grier Camden? Oh, sorry, Grier Fitzgerald
Camden? No, never heard of him. Never seen him either, so go tell your friends that—
...Is that a five?
How ‘bout ten?
we’re talkin’. Gimme that!
First of all, no one calls him Grier, you stiffy old coot. Where’s you from anyway? You don’t sound like you’re from Brooklyn.
United what? Kingdom? Never heard of it. Anyway, the boy you’re askin’ ‘bout, his name’s Fitz. Everyone ‘round here calls him Fitz. He grew up on 49th and Washington. He was a real wise ass, always crackin’ jokes, always tellin’ stories. This kid had a real imagination.
How did I know him? We played T-ball in preschool together. And we was the troubled kids from Missus Rosemund’s class last year. Yeah, Jackson Heights Elementary. That little fat-so over there on the swings is P.J. He was in that class, too.
No, Fitz didn’t tell us much about his family. Mom was a Nine-to-Fiver, means she worked all the time. Real good looking lady that one. Now that I think about it, she sounded a lot like you. Fitz mentioned once that she was from ‘across the pond’, but I figured he meant that crappy excuse for a lake they call the Hudson River, not the freakin’ Atlantic.
She sounded fancy, yeah. I said she sounded like you, didn’t I?! I don’t like to repeat myself, so listen up. His dad was a real mess. No one knows how a lady like his mom scored a deadbeat like his dad, but my moms says it’s none of my business. His dad used to play Baseball or something. Fitz swore he was good, but we would all rag him about it. If he’s as good as that idiot says, why ain’t he on TV, right?
What’s Baseball?! Oh, sweet Jesus. Forget about it. What was I saying? Oh, his mom. His mom died a couple months back. Everyone thought his dad had finally snapped and...you know
. But turns out she was a Chemical—I mean, a Chemist. She liked to mess around with those pots and pans, or something, and one of those blew up in her face. My grandma swears it’s because they never used Cooking Oil, but that’s ‘cause she’s Dominican.
Right, right, they disappeared so quickly after that it was like the mafia was after them. You got any ties to the mafia? No? Good. I got a reputation to keep, you know?
Anyway, there’s more to it...but it’s gonna cost ya’ a little extra...
Oooooh, that’s what I like to see! Man, you’re not half bad. If you ever need a place to stay when you’re in Brooklyn again, you know where to find me, OK? Anyway, where was we?
Yeah, Fitz was a weird kid, but we was chill with him. It’s not often we let a white boy into the gang, but, then again, we don’t get many white boys as cool as him around these parts. That’s the other weird thing about his family. Mainly his mom. It was like they didn’t understand the rules of the City. Things like turfwars and the Subway went right over their heads. And sometimes they didn’t come out of their house for a while. His mom was always asking my moms for weird stuff, too. And ‘cause we was neighbors, we kinda had to give it to them, you know? We said no to a lot of stuff, though. Like this one time Fitz came over looking for 'Gillyweed', whatever the hell that is. Course my granny only heard the backend part of what he said and we was both grounded for weeks
. I’ve never been so mad at him in my entire life.
Was he always asking for stuff like that? Kinda. He always had a weird habit of getting into weird situations, so we kinda got used to it.
Heh, yeah. I guess one word to describe him was ‘weird’. Like this one time when we was in Missus Rosemund’s class, she yelled at him for dozing off and he got so mad—and I mean really, really
mad—that his face started turnin’ blue! Actually blue, man! Everyone says, ‘Oh, yeah, I was so mad I was seein’ red.’ But this time it was true. He had to go to the nurse for the rest of the day. They thought about taking him to the Hospital, but by the time the last bell rung, Fitz was just strollin’ out the front doors like it was nobody’s business that he almost died or somethin’.
Yeah, you could say he was nonchalant about that stuff. I just think he was crazy. Caucasians are always doing something crazy. He was no different.
Nah, he didn’t tell nobody he was leavin’. They just up and left. I still have some of his Baseball cards, too. D’ya think he’ll ask for them back?
Magic? Did he ever talk to us about magic tricks? No, why—
Did we ever see them? Huh. HEY, P.J. YOU EVER SEEN FITZ DO MAGIC?!
Nah, P.J. said no. And you can trust P.J., his momma don’t let him lie a lot.
Did he say where he was going? Man, that boy’s middle name was ‘Get Lost McGee’, do you really think he’d really tell us where he was headed?! He probably didn’t even know himself.
Yeah, well, the twenty bucks were worth it. Hey, if you find him, wherever he is, can you tell him he’s a fool for leavin’ without saying goodbye or nothin’? And if he’s dead...
You’re right. Well, just in case let me know. I’m gonna wanna sell those Baseball cards. That’s some bad mojo keeping a dead man’s stuff around...” → ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.House Request:
His mother was a Hufflepuff and his father is a Muggle, so unrealistic expectations run in the family. That’s a rather sardonic way of saying he’s a dreamer. Less of a believer, though. He follows his gut as if it were a compass, and he’s the “Cold-Hard Truth” type. He’s not wimpy, either. Growing up in the streets of New York City beat that right out of him. Having been a newer addition to his friend group growing up, he has learned to recognize when others need to take the lead and when to lead for himself. He’s the physical type, preferring to handle situations with actions rather than words—mainly because he can’t sit still. That being said, he also has a disability that only allows him to learn through kinesthetic means, and synesthesia (undiagnosed because no one believes him). He loves making up stories (see also: lying
) because 1) he’s a dreamer, and 2) he believes he can escape reality by imagining these different scenarios. It’s a coping mechanism. Another coping mechanism of his? He talks in third person whenever he’s anxious or upset. Appearance:
He has an American accent, is pale, and is falling behind the current growth rate of his age. Also, he’s that kid with a nut allergy that ruins it for everyone.Face Claim: Finn Wolfhard→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.”Can you hurry up? I need to go to Charms soon.”
Girls were mean. And impatient. And smelled really nice, but that was what got him in this predicament in the first place.
“Yeah, 'course...just give me...one...second—“
Cady Cavanaugh (spelt like C-a-d-y, said like K-a-t-i-e) sat in front of him in Potions. She had a shampoo that smelled of coconut and pomegranates. An odd combination if you asked him, but after spending an hour in a room full of musty pots, gooey intestines, and other who’s-its, he’d take any reprieve from the foulness of it all.
That was how she’d caught him sniffing her hair.
“O-okay. Are you ready?”
And somewhere in her little blonde head, she’d equated his lack of regard for her personal space with affection—eugh
. He most certainly did not like Cady Cavanaugh. She had a big nose and a habit of punching his arm roughly every time he made a joke. He didn’t make jokes around her anymore.
Now as she stood in front of him, eyes closed, lips extended almost unnaturally so, with an expectant look about her, he felt his mouth go dry. He couldn’t do it.
“I’m sorry! I can’t!” His brain scrambled to think of a reason other than the obvious and all too wimpy, ’I’m not ready for a first kiss.’
“I-it’s not you, I swear. It’s...it’s me, Cady.”
“You’re too...pretty, way, way too pretty, err, to get kissed in a dungeon! Yuck, right?”
(Don’t lose your cool, Fitz. She can tell you’re lying.) ”Then why were you sniffing my hair? Adam said you had a crush on me!”
Well, as the British say, Adam’s a bloody liar.
“He—“”Hello! Is Emma Birch here?”
Cady didn’t care for an intruder; Fitz, meanwhile, could’ve cried tears of joy.”She’s not!”
“She is!””What are you doing?!”
To be quite honest, he wasn’t sure anymore.
“She’s right over here!” He turned then, ready to bolt at any minute.→ ABOUT YOU.Please list any characters you have on the site (current and previous):
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