Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Merwyn Ricardus
Gender: Male
Age: 23
Blood Status: the purest

Education: 
Slytherin, Class of 1945

Residence:
Ricardus Hall, outside of Freethorpe, Norfolk

Occupation
tracking down Arcus
Some sort of Ministry job working with for Salazar Ricardus

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?
The Ministry of Magic

Requested Magic Levels:
Adult characters have 32 starting levels to distribute across these four categories (less levels can be used if you so desire, but no more than 32). The number of levels on the lowest ability must be at least half of the highest ability.

If you want levels above the usual 32 total, or a significantly uneven distribution of starting levels, please fill out and submit the Special Request form here.

• Charms: 6
• Divination: 6
• Transfiguration: 10
• Summoning: 10

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

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Marjorie Withersnap and various other bundles of anxiety

Biography: (300 words minimum.)

Early 1950
The crystal tumbler felt cool in his hand, the diamond shapes cut into it digging against his palm as he gripped it tighter. Merwyn didn’t particularly care for the strong, clear liquid that swirled and lapped at the edges of the vessel, but it was what his father drank, and if it was what his father drank than it was what he would drink, too.

Even if Loxias Ricardus Junior didn’t seem impressed by it.

(But when did he ever seem impressed?)

(Never.)

He set the glass down on the table with a clink and gritted his teeth. That he would be working for Salazar, that his father expected him to kowtow to his oldest brother, that he was meant to be an assistant--but it wasn’t as though he had a choice. The job wasn’t an offer so much as a mandate. But that was how the hierarchy worked.

He was near the bottom of it, despite everything he did to try to claw his way to the top. Briefly Merwyn wondered about the logistics of hexing Salazar without his brother realizing it, and how many times he might be able to get away with it at the Ministry before he was reprimanded.

(Probably not one. His charms skills weren’t good enough. It was something he was continually reminded of because it was another way in which he was doomed to unimpressive.)

No. He might be able to get away with a few jinxes around the office (maybe), but in the end it would be easier to put on a stoic, cold face and bear it. Loxias Ricardus Junior was carved from stone and he could be too (maybe).

Or at least he could fake it well it enough, and find other ways to make Salazar miserable.

His glory wouldn’t lie in the halls of the Ministry, though. And it wouldn’t lie in being the first born--he didn’t need that leg up, that unfair advantage. Being sixth born was certainly a disadvantage, but he knew exactly what he needed to do to make a name for himself.

To make his father proud.

To usurp his brother’s place.

He would find Arcus. And he would bring Arcus to justice.

The memory of the other boy’s departure still clouded his mind (this is what happens if you can’t behave. This is what happens if you don’t respect the family name. This is a real possibility. You can be disowned and you can be forgotten and you can lose everything). At nine it had been hard to understand exactly what had happened, only that Arcus was gone and that no one was to speak of him. That he was, effectively, gone from the family.

And later, when he had better understood what it was to be disowned, what it was to betray the Ricardus name, he knew what would finally bring him the respect he had never been able to earn through his own mediocre abilities.

Tracking down Arcus.

Lifting his cup again, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lip and his icy eyes narrowed. He would entertain his father’s request.

For now.

And eventually he would do more than that. He would impress the man, one way or the other. Hard exterior, made of marble, cold and harsh and unforgiving and willing to cast off the weak branches that might poison their strong family tree.

Loxias was everything that Merwyn wanted to be. Everything he could be, if he tried hard enough. It was the sort of calculating demeanor he hoped for, the sort of frostiness that he craved to emulate, the sort of power that he wanted to wield.

(To strike fear into adversaries, to be respected for his name and his empire, to build on the foundation that Loxias Ricardus Junior had worked so hard to maintain.)

Someday, his father would see Merwyn’s worth.

But until then, he would make sure that Salazar and Arcus found out exactly what he was capable of.

Roleplay: 
You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character:

Option One -
Amelia Nixon was many things, but she was never a pushover reporter that people could just usher away with a busy shuffle past. She was dedicated and eager to cut to the very middle of the current political tensions because she was Amelia Nixon and her articles would most certainly become front page material.

“Sir, please! It’s for the Prophet, how do you feel-“

Another one brushed passed her, the shuffling busy masses making their way through Diagon Alley for the lunchtime rush. This had been the best possible time to get people, but none of them were giving her anything to go with.

Only momentarily discouraged, the short red headed lady took a seat on a nearby bench. Her quill resting in her left hand and her notepad ready in the opposite hand. Amelia pouted, tapping the quill against her leg as she scanned the waves of people for somebody - anybody - who looked like they had something to say.

She had been dreaming of her name in bold print, Amelia Nixon: The Source of Today’s Tomorrow. She had been dreaming of the larger office and the secretaries that would fetch her the morning coffee and fetch her anything she needed. The VIP interviews and the most exclusive press passes. But all Amelia had was a page seventeen piece on the rising number of frogs in London.

Hardened by a day of no success, the reporter stood up and started to trod off down the alley. A loose stone on the cobble path caught her heel, sending the distraught girl toppling down to the ground.

“Merlin’s fog watch, my heel is broken! Help!” she yelled as she tried desperately to recover her shoe frantically in the middle of the Diagon Alley moving crowds.

Roleplay Response:
Shoes clicked across the cobbled walkway, steps firm. Confident. (It was important to look like you knew where you were going, like you knew what you were doing, like you were someone too busy and salient to be approached).

He was important.

Merwyn clenched his jaw as he made his way through the alley, rolling his shoulders back and standing more upright. Glacial eyes took in the surroundings, calculating. Did he know any of them? Did any of them know him? (Did anyone know his name, know the ways that his family’s influence spread beneath so many parts of their world, the power that he could wield?)

Another stride forward, muscles along his jaw growing more tense. The idea that he would have to spend his days ingratiating himself to his older brother was beyond a frustration. It was a sinking feeling, drowning. That this was what he had been relegated to, that this was what he was expected to do--fingers curled into his palm, fist clenching.

At least now he had a better idea of what was in Salazar’s office, what things he might be able to knick from it (and who he might be able to pass blame off to for it). This idea, at least, brought him some small satisfaction. There were small ways he could make sure that the man was miserable, even as Merwyn did his best work so that he could prove that he was above all of this.

But just as the muscles in his jaw started to relax, a voice interrupted his train of thought.

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

“Pathetic,” he murmured, approaching the woman with eyes narrowing. Standing near her as the crowd continued to move around them both, he tried to cut an imposing figure. It was a presence that he knew from his home, from his family. To be striking. Formidable.

Without offering a hand, he shook his head and scoffed. “Aren’t you capable of helping yourself?”

OTHER
How did you find us? I heard a whisper on the breeze

Note: Family dynamics approved by Loxias Ricardus Jr/Salazar Ricardus (including Merwyn working with Salazar)