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Messages - Elijah Shurley

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Elsewhere Accepted / Elijah Shurley
« on: 06/07/2015 at 02:54 »

E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Elijah Shurley
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Blood Status: Halfblood

Education: 
Charms School (5 - 10)
Hogwarts School - Hufflepuff (11 - 17)


Residence:
London

Occupation
Collector of Things

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the Ministry, Shrieking Shack) or to take over an existing shop in need of new management?
No

Requested Magic Levels:
  • Charms: 9
  • Divination: 8
  • Transfiguration: 9
  • Summoning: 6
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
Halfbloods

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Celestia Blu King

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
Elijah sat uncomfortably on a rather rugged wooden, aged chair, facing a dark, wine stained desk. He noticed the dark, burnt spots where his father had put out cigars, and ash stained papers which had been faced with the untimely doom of a careless smoker. There was an empty bottle of whiskey on the corner of the table, that he believed, if his father took a deep, rasping breath, it might topple over and cause a mess involving glass and the intangible stench of alcohol. He wrinkled his nose in discomfort, hands stiffly held on his lap, unmoving. The man that sat before him was tapping without much rhythm on the table that separated the two of them, drumming his fingers against the unfortunately ruined, once grand, desk.

Elijah’s eyes darted towards his father, observing the way the mans blue eyes flickered from his son, to a portrait of his deceased wife near the window to his right. His eyes masked grief with unmistakably rage and annoyance which was directed towards Elijah, his son, his bastard, his failure. Elijah didn’t understand his fathers motives with his muggle mother, surely lust could be controlled by an individual with such strength as his father possessed? However, after putting the pieces together in his mind, he came to the conclusion that his father had been drunk. Elijah didn’t like alcohol for precisely that reason. There was no real need for the poison in our bodies, we do not need it to prosper or survive, it was merely a mind killer which often provoked violence and other mindless activities.

“Elijah, stop it.”

“Hm?”

The young man glanced back upwards at his father, his quickened train of thought stopped in its tracks, backing up towards whatever might have crossed his mind and bothered his father. Was it that the man noticed him examine the portrait of mother? Or something else entirely? Elijah often didn’t understand why he father was angry with him most times, however he was vaguely positive that it had something to do with him being a mud blood (mud, not pure. filthy, staining.). He was not pure, as his father was. He was stained with something that seemed to bother the wizarding community quite a lot. Which confused him even more, if magic was being passed on, surely-

“Elijah, for the love of god, stop doing that.”

He wasn't drumming his fingers was he?

“Focus your thoughts on something for once in your miserable life.”

He wasn’t miserable. By the looks of it, it was father who was miserable. However, Elijah did notice something different about him, they way he always found himself drowning (sinking, unable to breath, trapped) in his own thoughts. As a child he never played with the other children, didn’t understand simple social cues and often said the wrong things because of it. For example, father would ask him if he was having a good evening at a guests house expecting the boy to say he was. But that was a lie and Elijah told him that he thought it was unbearably boring and that the drapes were disgustingly distracting because they were yellow. Father was not happy with this answer and later punished him. However then lectured the boy that lying was wrong when he wouldn’t own up to taking his half sisters cauldron cakes.

“Focus? Centre of interest or attention. Yes, I can focus.”

However he certainly wasn’t interested in father, and there was no activities here that he could do which would supply him with entertainment. Perhaps if father let him draw or scribble on a pad, perhaps even animate a paper plane to fly, he could focus on something. But father seemed to want him to focus on something else entirely. Father was being selfish if he believed that Elijah would focus his entire being on him when there were other activities that drew his attention, such as his own thoughts (drowning in them, trapped).

“I believe that it is time for you to, well-”

Father was drumming his fingers again, he was uncomfortable, or was that guilt?

Why was he guilty?

“Find yourself a better suiting home, a new environment.”

Elijah nodded slowly, he would be living alone, without company or having the house servants on his every beck and call. Which meant he would have to become independent, to learn new things, do what he wanted to do.

Elijah could do that.

He was a tidy, gentle soul and could thrive on his own. Everything would be in order and father wouldn't always move his things after he had shifted them to a position. His books could pile where he wanted them to pile, potion supplies packed away neatly in alphabetical order and he could for sure learn the necessary skills which would allow him to prepare his own meals. Leaving the household was a grand idea, and he was glad that father had suggested it. However it would mean that he would be cut off from money and would not be receiving the daily allowance that he was given now.

“I would need a job.”

It was a statement more then a question, however father seemed to understand that and nod.

And thus began to mans journey into real adulthood. He went though many different jobs, often loosing them due to his peculiar quirks until eventually finding one whilst working in a bookstore. He understood books as they clearly wrote to what they meant, however struggled with some, such as poetry which often had something called metaphors and other grammatical laws in them. Saying one thing and meaning another thing entirely was not something he was accustomed with, however he understood it with time. Gleeful that this would increase his social interactions with others. He developed an obsession with collecting anything handwritten by others which included letter, shopping lists, love poems, anything which gave him the ability to code underlining messages and jokes. It brought him joy. He struggled with making friends and generally meeting other human beings as he grew accustomed to the safety between the isles of the books store. Besides, other humans struggled to understand the man and he was quite sure that he was a popular target for mockery and tease.

So became Elijah a lone wizard, keeping to himself and finding himself in situations which he struggled to overcome. Everyday brought the young man a new challenge.

And he faced them head on.

Roleplay: 
You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character:
Option One -
Roleplay Response:
He was… grocery shopping.

Or so the young man thought as he awkwardly manoeuvred through Diagon Alley. He was desperately trying not to have any form of physical contact with any sort of person, shifting from one leg to another and arching around crowds and individuals. His teeth remained clenched as a frown developed on his face, etching its way down towards his lips, turning them up slightly in dislike. To be honest, he looked more like a child who had soiled their diapers then a man graduated from Hogwarts with astounding N.E.W.Ts.

Elijah darted from store to store, momently stopping at a nearby ice creamery to indulge in his cravings. He had picked out a sugary cone filled with pistachio flavoured ice cream and his, rather terribly disgusting favourite, pumpkin sprinkles on top. After eagerly accepting the cone from the waitress, who smiled at him funny and made Elijah feel uncomfortable, he felt himself relax, or at least stop drumming his fingers against every surface he came in contact with. Plus, he had gained another note which had fallen from a passing pedestrian. he thought it was some sort of momentum, however eagerly awaited to get home to discover what that person had written down.

His collection was growing and he could now distinguish how different handwriting could portray different emotions, for an example, he had found a note written in very neat, elegant cursive with the i’s dotted with hearts. He believed that the writer had been in love with the person the letter was supposed to reach before he had snagged it. Well, not stollen, he preferred the term found. They could simply write another letter whilst he received minimum entertainment from decrypting its hidden messages that perhaps not even the author had known about.

“Merlin’s fog watch, my heel is broken! Help!”

Elijah looked up and watched as a woman tumbled down towards the ground, failing epically at attempting to catch on to something, or someone. He had steadily moved from her line of tumbling and stepped to the side, glancing down at her whilst licking at his ice cream cone clutched in one hand. His head tilted slightly, dashing blue eyes widened as he spotted the source of her fall, the heel.

Woman confused him by their sense of style and fashion. Skirts, blouses and shoes all created terrible discomfort for the wearer, especially those considered fashionably nowadays. He believed that wearing trousers and loose shirts where the way to go, and of course any form of comfortable shoes. There was no point in causing pain and discomfort to yourself without much reason and if it could be helped, and in this woman's case, it certainly could have.

“Your unwise choice of footwear caused this accident, may I suggest a store which could provide you with more suitable ones?”

OTHER
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