Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Caspian Donovon "Donny"  Koenig
Gender: Male
Age: 27

Education: 
Privately-tutored

Residence:
A chateauesque chalet that he names Kingfisher's Perch.

Occupation
Shopskeeper for The Emporium Galore

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?
I plan to have a shop in Hogsmeade.

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: 13
• Divination: 6
• Transfiguration: 6.
• Summoning: 6

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
With Diederich Household, family friends and mentor for Cordelia Heidenrich.

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Cordelia Heidenrich,Ryszard and Rhiannon Diederich.

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
With a faint and precise brush of his tool against the creamy surface of refined marble, Caspian carefully etched detail to the many ridges and scales found on a classic Hungarian Horntail. One of his brilliant pistachio irises augmented through rings upon rings of mirrors in his eyeglass, the other beneath a shade of fanning brown. Feeble echoes of fallen debris reverberated in the vast expanse that was his library.

Caspian spent most of his childhood here, education, practice and perfection of his skill had been silently passed, in this concave that he fancied himself alone. He remembered himself stealing a moment's respite to sneak a sketch or create small trinkets, escaping the careful eye of his elder peers who found him to be extremely talented in the art of creation.

They found him to be gifted, in the craft of wands, as it was seen fit in this family of revered wand-makers, one of the elite that lifted their proud chin in the higher echelons of German society.

Yet, Caspian could care less about what they thought.

Indeed, he found interest in the art of creation, but only when it was by his decision. Caspian had grown to become a calm, collected and refined young man, into the rigid mold that was set forth for him with flowing grace. In aloof detachment he found himself as he would be pleased to be, he had rebelled, but without causing much ripple or wave in the troubling deep waters that was Koenig House.

Caspian would assume position and all things they had aspired him to amount to, in exchange for his freedom, and complete decision that would receive no reprimand.

Gently sweeping away minuscule, diaphanous clouds of dust that gyrated in harmony with the periwinkle lighting, Caspian remembered his many adventures, though expensive, the mass wealth he yielded in his own power through undisclosed methods, together with the income from the Koenig's widespread influence, found it sufficient to be funded.

Many of these adventures he had brought with him a skilled survivor, who was also a brilliant hunter. Despite the boy's young age, the boy had proven himself to be remarkably sharp and bloodless, though his skill has yet to surpass his sister's, the young hunter showed marvelous potential. Caspian had grown close to this Hunter, who was a king to his army of running children, the two had become attached brothers throughout the years.

Much like the subject at the hand of his honed tools, the Hunter had been  viciously rebellious, stubborn and unyielding. Yet after the Fire, the Hunter has never quite been the same.

Slightly furrowing his brow, the aloof and austere Caspian Koenig reached for his oils and brush. Yet, the palm of his hand caressed something other, the smooth silken scales at the tips of his ghosting fingers, completely familiar.

Antipodean Opaleye, as it were. Beautiful and radiant, mysterious and inviting, elusive and alluring, a perfect specimen that had been his obsession in previous years, much like the cream silhouette he had tucked away quietly in his heart.

Caius, his cat, gave him a cool, perplexed glance, as if asking why he was making all of these in the first place. Caspian scratched the regal feline's upright ears, feeling him purr lazily. Many of his recent masterpieces loomed from all angles, convincingly realistic yet hauntingly stationary, as if frozen in a tempestuous winter that has yet to show its roaring deluge.

Caspian wanted to open a shop, in the little village of Hogsmeade, which he has visited quite frequently in the nearly three complete decades of his life. For most reason, Caspian was bored, and his confidante was impatiently brewing a storm that his sister had cordially written a missive for Caspian to calm.

No matter how hard he tried, Caspian never quite could deny an offer from the Hunter's sister.

Stretching his long limbs that were stiff from his effort, Caspian reached into his coat for his wand.Paduak, Griffin Hair, 13 and a half inches, Caspian himself had been commanded to harvest the wood, his mysterious elders providing the core, guiding him to create his first wand. Ironically, out of all of the wands he had made, only this wand had chosen him.

Murmuring a spell that suddenly brought his creations to lively vigor, Caspian stood tall and quiet in an array of flying magical creatures and objects, that was the work of old magic found in the volumes in this vast house. Against the contrast of conflicting colors, Caspian appeared a craftsmen in his workshop of toys. 

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


Option Two -
The snow had been falling steadily all morning and it didn't look like it was going to stop any time soon. Joshua Campbell scrunched his face up in a frown as he lifted his gaze to look to the sky. Snow. It really was quite a bother.

And it certainly didn't make it better that Diagon Alley seemed to be getting more and more crowded. Joshua sighed and pointed his wand at the large box that was currently placed on the doorstep of his shop. He had to get going. He had an order to deliver.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The elderly man muttered and watched the box hover in the air for a moment. Honestly, did St. Mungo's really need that much tinsel? And with glitter of all things? He sighed again. If it hadn't been for the rather convincing stamp on the order, he would have been likely to believe it had been a prank by one of those orphaned rascals living up there. 

Oh well, there was no point in waiting. Joshua deftly stirred the box down the doorstep and out onto the street, carefully levitating it above the heads of the crowd.

"Coming through! Coming through!" His voice sounded over the chatter of the crowd. "Keep out! Move ahead! Go on!" This was going way too slow. People were in the way and walking like they had all day! He huffed. Luckily the road was down hill.

"Coming through! Coming th--- arrrgh!" Joshua let out a loud shout as his feet suddenly slipped in the snow and sent him, the box, and several long strands of tinsel tumbling into the person who had been walking in front of him.

"For Merlin's sake!" Joshua muttered angrily as he hurried to his feet again, red and gold tinsel now decorating his black coat. "I am so sorry! This blasted snow!" He looked apologetic at the person he had crashed into.

Roleplay Response:
Betwixt a scuttling crowd of coated and fleeced wizards, Caspian walked idly, his trunk of new tools buoyed his footsteps with a lightness akin to clouds that were now floating lazily in the sky above him. Specks of dusty snow decorated the luxurious onyx that was his coat, melting into the seamless texture.

Diagon Alley, though not one of his favorite places, provided ease for the simple needs of someone such as himself. He needed to get some material for a gift, to his dear apprentice of some vague definition, who was a prancing child at this point in life where dresses pinned a crucial importance.

Though Caspian excelled in the art of sculpting, he was skilled in all other respective fields that required deft use of hand, Caspian did not often tailor dresses, but most have made it a point that he should make it his life to make them.

Strings of glittering tinsel embraced Caspian in a somewhat awkward embrace, he wrinkled his brow at the tickling tendrils and sneezed, the noise muted by his gloved hand. A string of hushed expletives came from what was directly in front of him, Caspian calmly removed the glaring colors of red and gold, and returned the material back to its original owner with polite mannerism.

Caspian smiled calmly, giving an air of easygoing detachment, "It is quite alright, I know the snow can get bothersome at times." He dusted off his coat from the fluffy tufts of snow that had amassed, having them fall to the ground.






 

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