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Archived Applications / Irma Scrivner
« on: 01/08/2014 at 00:45 »

Application for Hogwarts School


? CHARACTER INFORMATION.
Name: Irma Lycoris Scrivner

Birthday: July 31, 1931

Hometown: Fingringhoe, Essex.

Bloodline: Halfblood.  Maternal great-grandmother was muggleborn.

Magical Strength: Transfiguration.

Magical Weakness: Conjuring & Summoning.

Year: One, two.

Biography:
As far as Irma is concerned- and little will convince her otherwise- she was born in 1931.  She was simply too young to recall her experiences before the Time Warp; the transition was virtually painless for her family, anyway.
Her mother (Anise Barleycorn-Scrivner) is a famous wizard-pulp fiction author and occasional contributor to wizarding media, while her father (Marlestowe Scrivner) is the chief publicist of the Puddlemere United Quidditch team.  If she wants anything relating to the team (or anything else, really) all she needs to do is get ahold of her 'doddy' (father).
Irma is an only child, mildly spoiled (like a fine mottled cheese)- and a little disconcerted by the 'H' she is forced to wear- her family acts Pureblood and Proud.  She has a strong rustic accent despite her wizarding heritage.  Her only friends were the children of Puddlemere United athletes, which were few, far between, and always temporary.  She grew up in her ancestral home 'Colne Flats', located in the salt marshes between North and South Geedon, two creeks south of the township proper.

? ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.

House Request: Prefer 'not Ravenclaw' (for a new experience).

Personality: Clumsy (both socially and physically); overreacts easily; independent; ashamed of her Halfblood status.  Fiercely loyal to friends, but just fierce to those who cross her.

Appearance: Irma looks young for her age, with reddish cheeks on an otherwise pale face.  Her piercing grey-blue eyes, if you are unfortunate enough to get locked into them, seem to grab your attention (and your will).  She has a mole over on her left cheek that she might someday grow into, provided it doesn't grow with her.  Her hair is a medium length mousy blonde, hardly worth mentioning.  Her clothes always look pressed and clean, as if dirt is afraid to touch her.

? SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
Please reply to one of the Sample Roleplays below.
Option 1
She'd been stalking him, of course.  She'd watched him intently as he slouched off the field.  She was waiting just out of sight when he bypassed the locker room, much to her surprise.  There had been a fearful moment, just outside of the Main Hall, that she was sure he'd seen her.  Now she sat at the opposite end of the table, stealing glances at this wonderful boy.
Yes, she was stalking him, but for good reason.  He had talent. He was young.  He was cute.
He was pureblood.
He stood suddenly and made a beeline for the door.  Irma found herself standing in unison, mimicking his motions down to the angry stomp.  That it was unladylike didn't register.  That a casual observer would say she was obsessing didn't matter.  Only the boy mattered.  She stomped out into the hallway.

Big mistake.

"WHAT! Haven't you ever seen a loser before? Why don't you just take a picture!" he shouted from down the hall, obviously tipped off from her noisy shoes.  She took two steps closer before she saw that he was crying.
Disgusted suddenly, she replied, "Do shut it, loooser," the last word drawn out to the edge of ridiculousness as she stepped slowly closer, "An' do lissen', wot might be your only fan.  Yah, you fouled up a lousy foul shot- I've seen better'n you wot nevver recover from that kinda' bonie!  Dirty playin' on their part!"
Emboldened, she took another step forward, "An' yer wot, a seccun' year?  Playin' in the Quidditch final?  You got five whole years to get even!  I saw you on the field- you were wunnerful, when you wern't bein' a loser baby."
Now standing next to him, not giving him a chance to object or get away, "We'll get even, an' we'll start wif' that lousy beater wot fouled you to begin wif'."

? ABOUT YOU.

Previous Characters (if applicable): Newton Yune MacDonald, Heather Ailsa MacDonald, Amos Feinbary, Reginald Lark (all from prior to 2008)

How did you find us?: A half-hour of hunting for the old boards, which led me here.

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Elsewhere Accepted / Irma Scrivner
« on: 12/07/2014 at 18:52 »
E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Irma Lycoris Scrivner

Gender: Female

Age: Born July 31, 1931 (so 10?)

Bloodline: Halfblood.  Maternal great-grandmother was a muggleborn.

Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): 
Marlestowe and Anise Scrivner (NPCs).

Residence:
Colne Flats, in Fingringhoe, Essex.

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?
Not at this time.

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
Not at this time.

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Newton MacDonald

Biography: (100 words minimum.)
As far as Irma is concerned- and little will convince her otherwise- she was born in 1931.  She was simply too young to recall her experiences before the Time Warp; the transition was virtually painless for her family, anyway.
Her mother (Anise (Barleycorn) Scrivner) is a famous wizard-pulp fiction author and occasional contributor to wizarding media, while her father (Marlestowe Scrivner) is the chief publicist of the Puddlemere United Quidditch team.  If she wants anything relating to the team (or anything else, really) all she needs to do is get ahold of her 'doddy' (father).
Irma is an only child, mildly spoiled (like a fine mottled cheese)- and a little disconcerted by the 'H' she is forced to wear- her family acts Pureblood and Proud.  She has a strong rustic accent despite her wizarding heritage.  Her only friends were the children of Puddlemere United athletes, which were few, far between, and always temporary.  She grew up in her ancestral home 'Colne Flats', located in the salt marshes between North and South Geedon, two creeks south of the township proper.

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:
Irma lay flat on her back, her flowery yellow sun-dress simply glowing in the sunlight as it beat down on her.  One hand was up, holding her floppy, wide hat in place on her head, her other hand holding the brim to keep the sun from blinding her directly.
She was, to put it plainly, bored.  Her mum was nearby doing one of her book signings, drumming up business for the local bunch.  This left Irma with hours of 'free time', which usually meant hours of pointlessly waiting around with nothing to do; hours before this punishment was to be over.

She saw the boys fly overhead, and it was exciting enough to prop her up on her elbows.  Oh how she yearned to fly!  She wished she had her mum's broom handy- she could fly circles around them, she was sure of it- if only they'd let her try!

The little person near the ground didn't even register on her radar, her plight unseen and ignored.  He was watching the three up in the sky.  Obviously, one of those three was wasting his time- he lagged behind the other two at almost every turn.

It wasn't until the girl on the ground spoke directly to her, and even then only when it was imperative, that Irma even realized she was there.
"You!" she shouted, "Do you want to play?"

Irma gave her a once over, but focused on the toy she held in her hand.  She made a slightly sour face and said, "With that?  No."

That's it.  Ready to dismiss her at a moment's glance, when a thought struck her, If she's related to them up there... and I could get them down here... maybe one'll let me ride his broom!  She smiled devilishly.

"Wait!" she called out to the forlorn girl, "Yah, I'll play.  What's your name, girl?"
OTHER
How did you find us? Other.

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