Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character Name: Achilles Irving Wallace Grover Clarington-DuPont

Gender: Male

Age: Fifteen

Bloodline: Pureblood/Halfblood/Muggleborn/Squib

Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): *Patrick Clarington-DuPont & Louisa Clarington-DuPont

*Patrick is assumed father, with his actual father being Lucas Clarington-DuPont II

Residence: Widow’s Place, Norfolk, The United Kingdom

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)? No.

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason? No

Please list any other characters you already have at the site: Hermes St. Oswald et. al.


Biography: (100 words minimum.)
He was born the firstborn son and child of Patrick and Louisa Clarington-DuPont; to be elder brother to Killian and Olette. However, nine months previous, allegations within the family occurred and murmured rumours began to spread about his true parentage. The incident was contained, and was stopped from reaching society; which if it had done, would sure to have cut the family to pieces.

Once born, the whispers seemed to stop, with many commenting on how much he looked like Patrick, of which, Louisa stressed greatly. She did not need people knowing of her… unfaithfulness to her husband. Nobody would know, it would be her secret, she vowed it.

Therefore, the boy grew up in Norfolk, in Widow’s Place, a quiet, secluded country residence set in large grounds, that ran from the beach to the nearby village. The house wasn’t grand, but it wasn’t modest either, a large structure with many bedrooms and large halls where Patrick would host his guests, and Louisa would play hostess at her balls and garden parties.

He grew quickly in his father’s eyes. Patrick had his firstborn boy, his boy that would be followed by another and then his baby girl, but he found favouritism in his first born. He treated him like a prince, what he wanted, he almost always got. Money for them was no obstacle. They shared interests; Achilles took interest in quidditch early on, with much of his time devoted to the sport but it soon died out when it came to his education.

When he turned ten, he received an admissions letter for De Academie van de Koning; an elite all-boys wizarding school in The Netherlands. Although resident within the United Kingdom, Patrick and Louisa decided to accept the invitation and sent their first born to mainland Europe. The school with impressive reputation, producing Ministers, teachers and great wizards alike, Achilles became one of the first foreigners to be accepted into the prestigious school.

At school, he slowly became the model student. Although, his early years were uneasy, with several trips to the Headmaster’s office, along with late night detentions that saw him rebuilding walls and helping lay foundations for new buildings; the behaviour was soon ironed out of him. His interests changed from quidditch, slowly becoming more interested in his artwork, of which, in his fourth year, he’d win the King’s Cup; the first British subject to be awarded such a prize.

Many tip him to be Headboy come his sixth year and subsequently, probably his seventh and final year. However, this positive attention has not been plain sailing, with negative attitudes coming from old, Dutch families who have seen him as some invader to their traditions. This has not stopped him from achieving and keeping his ambitions, he remains to make his father proud, to stand tall and even when he’s found in the Headmaster’s office for attacking Willem, his father remains proud for standing up for himself.

He has remained, and will always remain, the apple of his parents eye.

Roleplay:
Reply as your character to the following:

Godric Park.

Overhead, the sky was a crisp blue, for once clear of the ever-pervasive spongy clouds and rain. The sun was a lemony-yellow presence, high in the Eastern sky, and in front of it zipped three broomsticks in a straight line, or something very like one. One... two..... three... the boys passed, their shouts of excitement echoing as they chased the snitch, a tiny shimmer reflecting the sunlight.

Far below was another, much smaller broomstick.

It trugged along the ground, hugging close to it like a sluggish choo choo train and occasionally shuttering in protest. This was because said stick was currently being occupied by a very small girl who was tugging upward on the front of it with all her might, trying to coax it into doing what it had been expressly designed NOT to do.

"John, I said wait up!" The tiny girl squealed, giving the broomstick another tug.

Begrudgingly, it drifted upward a foot, and then sank, depositing the troublesome girl safely on the ground. Janey Hurst was not pleased. In a huff, she hopped off the toy safety broom, grabbing it firmly and thrusting it handle first into the turf.

Her brother was such a beast. He NEVER let her play! She folded her arms, seething blue eyes fixing on another figure nearby.  "You!" She barked, much more sharply than she meant to.

"...Do you want to play?"

Roleplay Response:
He was back for the summer. Although the Dutch summers were generally more sunnier, the tan he managed to achieve was much darker, he missed home. He spent months on end away, located in the Dutch countryside, the desire to come home grew and grew, even if he knew he would be back eventually. He didn't travel the furthest to make it home, but it was a long and tedious journey which he somewhat enjoyed.

Although he enjoyed being home, he was always the trophy piece. The Kings Cup which he won last year was one of his mothers prized possessions, placed in the cabinet along with other cups and trophies and shields that had been won across the years. So when he could get away, he ran.

A trip to Godric's Park was always nice, it had been a while and well, he needed air from mother who was busy in preparations for some Ministry dinner. The fine china was coming out. A breath of air, the open skies, it was blue for once with a warm breeze; here he sat on the ground, pad flipped open, pencil in hand.

"You!"..."...Do you want to play?"

Almost startled, he dropped his pencil, eyebrows uncrossing as he looked up from his page. Concentration was key, and he gave his all when it came to his art, careful with every detail. He loved it. He needed it. It was a nice coping mechanism when it came to the stresses of exams.

Looking up, the girl towered over him. What was she demanding of him? Play? It only took a moment for him to add the various clues together. She had a broom, she wanted to play some form of quidditch?

He stuttered, eyes squinting, the golden sunlight catching. "Umm..." He paused. He didn't exactly have time to be playing with a child but something struck him, down to his core. Olette. "Sure, let me put this away first, yeah?" He glanced to his rucksack before grabbing a hold of it.

OTHER
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