Application for Hogwarts School
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.Name: Bartleby AppletonBirthday: 19th May
Hometown: Looe, Cornwall
Bloodline:Halfblood
Magical Strength (pick one):Divination
Magical Weakness (pick one):Conjuring & Summoning
Year (pick two): 2nd or 3rd
Biography:"There are three types of people in the world; The Young, The Old and The Unhappy"His mother always had a metaphor or some piece of devout wisdom lined up for any and all occasions, much to the annoyance of Bartleby whose own grasp on philosophy and indeed the English language remained a lot to be desired. He sort of knew what a metaphor was, it was like a thought with another thought's hat on. Besides, he was 60% that she had lost the plot many moons ago.
Bartleby often found only confusion with his mother, a self proclaimed seer from the old landscape of Scandinavia as well as a proud Nomad. Therefore then, and quite of the contrary, he would look at his father, a well organised man who maintained both cleanliness and an aura of practicality than his wife showed very little care of obtaining. He had heard friends and relatives throw around the term “opposites attract” a lot over his life and wondered if they too conceptualised an anthropomorphic drama where one was a duck and the other was a penguin adorned with goggles, a tattered dress and wielded fire and a copy of ancient Greek or Chinese scripture, all whilst flailing chocolate frogs and acid pops....
Probably not..
"But wouldn't the old be unhappy as they would be closer to the end of their life than, say, the unhappy ones?" Bartleby responded as he mentally kicked himself for prolonging a conversation that already seemed to transcend time itself.
His father had just taken up residence in London to which meant Bartleby had to entertain his mother's musings at a more frequent rate. The boy never claimed to know the hardships of adulthood, so his mother would like to remind him, however in the fishing town of Looe it was the least of his concern. The town was a small, quiet and located between the English Channel and the middle of nowhere; it was a town with little to no distractions from its mundane life. Bartleby figured that Boredom was the highest killer in this part of the world.
As an only child much of his childhood was spent creating his own realities from assaulting a castle comprising of a half broken sandstone breezeblock, wielding a bit of old bone to standing on a battlefield surrounded by Frenchmen, fighting his way to the apple tree to save the Princess Who Shall Not Be Named and gather apples the evenings feast. These kinds of imaginative actions would reassure Bartleby that he was his mother's child. There were the odd occasions where he was able to go camping with his friends during the summer months and even the four of them would venture to the waterfront to hunt for squid. Not that they ever found any however it provided the entertainment they all craved.
There was Vallon, Huckabee, himself of course and Blaze, the solitary female of the group. The four had been as thick as thieves since they were six, all attended the local primary school and all had the same interest of not liking anybody else. He was the only one, however, who possessed magic in his blood, a notion that only really came crashing home on his eleventh birthday. He remembered his mother's screams of jubilation fondly, his father patted his back Bartleby on the back and even though the attention was particularly unwanted, he couldn’t hold it against them.
It did mean though that for the first time in five years the quartet would be broken.
“Bartleby Appleton! You could be struck dead today if fate should will it! People’s whole lives do pass in front of their eyes before they die. The process is called living”Bartleby rolled his eyes and imitated the words as she spoke them. He did miss his father and had been told on many occasions that he looked identical to his father when he was Bartleby’s age. It wasn’t even as if he disliked his mother. It was just, sometimes she could get to be a bit too much. It was last summer that he developed a crush on Gwen, though his intuition told him that he wasn’t the only one. Huckabee, the boy who could prattle on for days about a cloud that loosely resembled a carrot, had too taken an interest. However, in the wake of Bartleby’s departure, he and Blaze had become closer. He didn't know if it was jealousy or just the beef stew from the day before that stirred within him when his best friend Vallon claimed that the Blaze and Huckabee had kissed before, and he wasn’t intending to find out. Bartleby only had a handful of hours remaining before he would take his leave to London and he had every intention of spending it with Blaze.
“And I'm sure Socrates or whoever said something similar to that will thank you but i really have to go –“
His eyes slowly opened to the sound of his Charms professor's raised voice; Bartleby saw the prominent figure that stood beside his wooden desk that he had previously used as a pillow. With a pleasant smile he greeted the eyes that glared down upon him and resigned “Detention this evening?”
→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.House Request: Hufflepuff or Gryffindor
Personality:Though Bartleby has a very easy going persona with a softly spoken voice, he has a tendency to be outspoken and a habit of blurting out the first thing that comes to his mind. With a dry and sometimes eccentric sense of humour, he never backs down from adventure and normally is the instigator for pranks and fun that often has it’s element of danger. For those are the best adventures. Bartleby would defend his friends and family, mostly with a short temper and fire in his heart but is usually rapid to make amends. He has a passion for sports, magically and muggle alike, outside activities (being cooped up for too long didn’t sit well) and Christmas always ignited a festive glee inside of him.
Appearance:Thick blondish brown hair and an average height for his age at 5ft 3 with a slim build. Bartleby hates his hair and has attempted several times to magically alter it, usually with dire and comical results.
→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.Option I:The dungeons. A place eleven-year-old Evangeline had not yet travelled since her arrival at Hogwarts.
A place she really was just fine with not knowing; but it was too late. The dare had been accepted, even if it had been done in fear of being kicked out of Gryffindor, like the older girls had said she would because Gryffindors were supposed to be brave.
The air changed instantly when she hit the main corridor of the dungeons. The dampness was almost too much for her and she instinctively took a deep breath to avoid the sensation of being suffocated. There was also a sour burning smell which Evangeline assumed was from many, many Potions lessons.
Further and further she walked, her steps so slow and gentle they made no noise against the stone walls and floor. The feeling that she wasn't alone crept up her spine and raised the tiny hair on the back of her neck. Shivering, Evangeline wrapped her arms around herself. Suddenly, she missed the warmth and comfort of the Gryffindor common room. The fire was always going and it made her feel at ease.
Why had she let those girls talk her into this? She was only eleven, she didn't have to be brave. Surely the Headmistress would not kick her out of Hogwarts for not being brave.
If only she had these thoughts while being dared to search for the ghost of one Emma Birch, whom supposedly haunted the dungeons. It was not, Evangeline had learned, the place where the sixteen-year-old girl's life had ended but as she had been from the house with a snake as its mascot, it was the place her spirit had returned to. That common room was down here somewhere, she'd been told.
Something - the small blonde girl wasn't quite sure what - but something made her stop in her tracks suddenly. There was a low, dull thumping noise. Or maybe that was her heart beating so loudly she thought it was coming from outside her body.
"H-h-hello?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Remembering that she was supposed to be brave, Evangeline tried again.
"Hello! Is Emma Birch here?"
The sound of her own words bouncing back at her off the walls made her jump.
Response:A smile formed. Slytherin house had definitely been handed the shorter of the straws when it came to locations to reside. His thoughts provided more questions than answers, neither of which he had intended to stumble across in the first place. Bartleby stopped in his tracks, a puzzled look crossed his face and he looked back down the corridor and towards the stairwell that led upstairs towards the main hall corridor. The decor of the dungeons was in keeping with the rest of the castle, albeit it seemed that the deeper into the dungeons you would stray, the more it looked as the halls hadn't seen a soul in many years.
'Keep an open mind' Rang out the voice of his mother in an otherwise soundless void. The trouble about having an open mind was that people would always insist on coming along and try to put things in it.
With his plot of overthrowing the presidency of the book club thickening, the echoes of foot to stone resumed and instinctively cruised forward, his mind regressed backwards and his journey into the snakes’ labyrinth continued. He figured it wouldn't be long until he would come across the Slytherin common room.
"H-h-hello?" His throat made a lazy groan of curiousity, his head tilted and with a quick reshuffle Bartleby turned on his heels to make his way to the lingering voice. Now who could that be? He had heard the tales of the girl that supposedly haunted the dungeons, whether or not her ghost still resided within the castle was as much a myth as Merlin’s sobriety. The stories, however, were fascinating with some having claimed that she was killed by an evil wizard. Other’s claimed that it was a professor; some even speculated that her death was due to a creature that had strayed into the castle from the forbidden forest. The latter was more a horror story that the older students would tell new students to give them a scare, almost an initiation to school life.
"Hello! Is Emma Birch here?"His body slowly side stepped back down the corridor towards the voice. The dimly lit passage ways were renowned for causing a slight stir in a person’s mind, something no doubt the Slytherin students took great joy in praying upon. He didn’t blame them. Bartleby poked his head around the corner, only to spy a girl who appeared very much alive. And lost.
“I doubt she'd be out now” he let out softly. Due to the ambience that the dungeons created anything else would've sounded as if he had shouted. He turned around the corner in full view of the girl, making himself look somewhat presentable and smiled.
“Bartleby Appleton, I'll paint your house and steal your ladders and that's only half true!” He beamed, unknowing whether his toothy smile would actually be visible.
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