THE BASICS
Name: Hunter Rhodes
Former Character's Name (if you had one): Keeghan Teague Gallagher, Tristan Ainsworth, Stephen Greenleaf, et al...
CHARACTER DETAILS
Year: 4th or 5th
Bloodline:
Muggleborn
Magical Strength (pick one):
Conjuring & Summoning
Magical Weakness (pick one):
Divination
Biography:
Hunter peered out the window of the cab at his new surroundings, Roxie's neck clutched tightly in his hand. Knuckles white as milk, any tighter and she would surely crack. He watched rolling countryside flew by as they drove down the long dirt road leading to what seemed like nowhere. Now usually he wasn't the type to get nervous. Hunter was usually so courageous. When something new was thrown at him, he considered it an opportunity for an adventure. He looked forward to going to camp every summer with his older brother, Holden, or traveling to exotic places. But this wasn't like summer camp. There was no promise that he would be going home afterwards. How could they have done this to him?
Born and raised in Maryland, Hunter was born into a family where certain things were expected of him. Older siblings, Holden and Heather, were perfect examples of what he should have been. Holden was a straight A student. Was the apple of every teachers eye. He was the captain of their schools field hockey team and was on the road to going to any ivy league school of his choosing. He knew how to be a gentleman, and yet he only used his charm around those who could get him closer to what he wanted. Be it his female interest of the week or a perfect score on an essay. He was a real snake.
Heather was a scholar as well. She was the top in every class. Not that she did any of the work herself, but that was beside the point. Why should she do any sort of work when she had a gaggle of minions that would do whatever she wanted with the snap of her well manicured fingers? The only thing she really did on her own was spread gossip, create rumors and destroy reputations. She had an uncanny ability to know everyone's business and no one was willing to cross her for fear of her letting lose one of their secrets. Heather paraded around the school as if she were the queen, everyone else were merely peasants meant to worship at her feet.
Hunter on the other hand was a bit different. He wasn't as bright as his brother and not nearly as devious as Heather. He did his work himself and was mostly an average student. And though he had the build for them, he was never particularly good at sports. The only thing that was really noteworthy about him was his musical talent. It started with the piano. His mother had required each of the children to learn and Hunter was the quickest to pick it up. In a matter of weeks he was tickling the ivories as if he had been doing it from the moment he was born. It was the same with the violin and later the guitar, his personal favorite. The moment he picked up his first acoustic guitar he was hooked. His baby, Roxie was a gift his mother reluctantly purchased for him from a second hand store one birthday. She openly wished he would play a few chords, get tired of it and she would be able to return it the musty store it came from. Contrary to her wishes Hunter spent more time strumming Roxie's six strings than any other instrument. He would sit out in the field for hours plucking away writing down notes, writing lyrics. It was the only thing he was truly good at after all.
Well, there was this one other thing he could do. Magic. It came as quite a surprise to his parents when he received an acceptance letter from The Salem Institute, the United States premiere school of magic. At first they thought the idea was preposterous and considered it to be a fluke. That it was probably some prank or chain letter. Hunter however was a bit more intrigued. He watched as his parents took the letter and threw it in the trash and his heart fell a bit. However the next day another letter arrived. Again it received the same reaction. A bit of a laugh and tossed in the bin. The following morning at the breakfast table, their meal was interrupted by a strange tapping sound on the window. A large owl sat perched on the sill holding a letter in his beak. Again from the school. Hunter's parents exchanged glances before finally accepting the realization that their son was...different. They sent another letter along with the owl asking for more information. They were only muggles after all.
It was at the institute that Hunter found himself, and where things went down hill. As it turned out he was more talented with magic than he was with algebra. Wand waving was easier than scribbling down numbers and writing essays. And for some odd reason potions class made chemistry seem like child's play. He finally found a sport he was good at. In a matter of no time he was playing on the schools quidditch team, playing as a beater. Riding a broom through the air beat running around trying to slap a ball with a stick any day.
This is also where he met Christian del Prince. Chris was a year ahead of Hunter when they met at the schools opening festivities but in a matter of no time they were very close. Chris helped Hunter to understand the wizarding world, introduced him to the older kids he needed to know to survive, helped him with his classes when necessary. After a while the pair were virtually inseparable. They could be found huddled over the same book, laughing about some strange inside joke, chattering away. When summer term started they were often at each others homes practicing for quidditch or just lying around in the grass and talking about whatever popped into their heads.
Christian was also the reason why Hunter had been shipped to England. One weekend when Chris had come to stay, they were lying in bed and before Hunter knew what was happening, Christian as crouched over him, lips working as one. And all Hunter could think was that this felt right. But his father who had just slipped in the door to tell the boys it was time to eat thought of it differently. Christian was immediately banned from coming to the house and Hunter was pulled out of school and shipped across the ocean to live with his estranged relatives.
And here he was now, in the car on his way to some strange home to live with people he had never met before. He bit his lip in anticipation wondering what this could mean for him. As they pulled into a long driveway, a large stone house came into view from behind the hills. The only word that could describe the structure was ancient. He looked at it in awe as the dark building only seemed to grow larger and larger as they came up to it. A woman with frazzled grey hair stood by the door, a quirky smile pulling up the corners of her mouth. Dressed in some of the strangest attire Hunter had ever seen, he couldn't help but chuckle, feeling a bit of his uneasiness subside. Maybe this place wouldn't been nearly as bad as he thought.
Please include these sections if they are not addressed in your biography.
Personality:
Hunter is usually a pretty independent and outgoing individual. He enjoys doing things for himself and seldom asks for help from others which can sometimes do more harm than good. He tries not to bite off more than he can chew but sometimes his desire for a challenge get's the better of him. He often times finds himself in trouble, not because he has a certain disregard for rules but mainly because he craves excitement. He loves his new home because given its size there is always something new for him to discover. He tends to take things with a grain of salt. It takes quite a bit to get him mad or upset, but when he has reached his boiling point it is best to steer clear of him. He is also quite the musician and loves being outside.
Appearance:
Hunter has hazel eyes and cropped, light brown hair that he really doesn't care about. If he takes the time to run a comb through it, he usually parts it to the right for no particular reason. He also has a problem with razors so more often than not he will go a week or two without shaving. He is slightly tall for his age standing at 5'7” and has a mildly athletic build created from years of running, climbing and swimming. He can more often than not be seen with a dopey grin on his face as he is daydreaming about one thing or another.
SAMPLE ROLEPLAY
You come across one of these three posts on the site. Please reply to one only as your character would.
*** Remember, you can only roleplay your own character's actions, not James' or Astrid's.
Option I:
Blimey, the Great Hall was packed. It seemed like everywhere a guy looked there was some clown waving around a House banner or yelling about the game.
'Can you believe it?' 'No way!' 'This must be the biggest upset in Hogwarts Quidditch history...'
Stupid Quidditch.
James flopped into an empty seat at the end of the table, shoved an empty plate out of the way, and let his head sink onto his crossed arms, squishing his freckled nose down flat against the tabletop. He wasn't sure why he'd even bothered to come here, since he definitely wasn't hungry. He'd probably never eat again, in fact. He didn'tdeserve to eat. He hadn't stopped in the locker room to change out of his muddy, sweaty uniform after the game either, because he was pretty sure he probably didn't deserve to be clean too; and anyway he couldn't stand to see the looks on his team mates' faces after he blew their chance at winning one of the biggest games they had ever played.
Just one lousy shot. That's all it would have taken. If he could have just got that one stupid foul shot to go through that one stupid hoop, they could have won and he wouldn't have been the biggest blockhead in the entire school.
As if to prove the point, half the people at the next table suddenly broke into a loud victory chant. James pressed his face further into his arms to hide the bright red blotches he could feel creeping up his cheeks. That was it. He was just going to have to run away and move to Nova Scotia. He'd just cost the three-year-in-a-row Champions the Quidditch Cup! How do you ever live that one down for crying out loud? He was only a second year and he was going to spend the rest of his life as 'that dumb cry-baby kid who dropped the Quaffle!'
It felt like every set of eyes in the room was boring into him, and James couldn't stand it anymore. He jerked himself back up from the table and stomped right back out of the Hall the same way he had come in. As he stormed into the quieter hallway outside, he could hear footsteps somewhere behind him. James rounded on the sound and began to shout, his brown eyes shining with tears. "WHAT! Haven't you ever seen a loser before? Why don't you just take a picture!"
Sample Roleplay Response:
That had quite literally been the most exciting game of Quidditch Hunter had ever witnessed. Granted he enjoyed playing the game more, but honestly that experience was probably one of the most exhilarating of his teenage life. So exciting in fact that now he really, Really needed to find a rest room. As all of the other students managed to file into the Great Hall for supper, he managed to carve a path through the crowd and into the Entrance Hall.
Now here was the tricky part. Still being new to the school, Hunter had no idea where the lavatory was. Well at least not the one on this floor. Looking around he searched for some kind of marker. What this school needed was a directory. One with a big red “You are Here” dot. But no that would far too convenient. So, as his gaze swept from one end of the corridor to the other he spotted someone. Picking up his pace, (as quickly as his full bladder would allow), he called after him. “Hey...you...uh...got a question!”
"WHAT! Haven't you ever seen a loser before? Why don't you just take a picture!"
Well that was unexpected. Hunter raised his hands defensively, giving the kid a quizzical look. Taking a look at the smaller students muddy robes and streaked face he could tell who he was immediately. It had been one of the most exciting Quidditch games Hunter had ever attended after all. How could he forget the kid who royally botched what should have been an easy shot?
“Whoa kid! Just trying to find the bathroom. No need to bite my head off.”
He let out a pitying sigh as he caught a glimpse of the kids eyes, still glistening with tears ready to fall. He couldn't help but feel just a little bit sorry for him. How many times he himself missed a bludger or sent it careening at the wrong player only to have his opposing team at Salem score or even win a match. Countless. No one could really blame the kid for getting frazzled on the field. It's nerve wracking when everyone's eyes are boring into you wanting you to succeed. Lowering his hands, he placed one on the boys shoulder.
“Hey listen kid, I know you screwed up today.” Maybe not the best phrasing he thought to himself. He hoped the kid didn't think to much of it. “Er...what I mean to say is...everyone makes mistakes kid. It just happens. And you can't beat yourself over it because, well its just not worth it. You just have to keep practicing and next time you'll get em.” he gave the younger students shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Now...point me in the direction of the bathroom or else we are going to have a mess on our hands bud.”
