Welcome to Hogwarts School :: A Harry Potter RPG! It's 1970!

Posts

This section allows you to view all posts made by this member. Note that you can only see posts made in areas you currently have access to.


Messages - Shai Faeriequine

Pages: [1]
1
Archived Applications / Shai Faeriequine | Student
« on: 03/12/2015 at 03:27 »
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.
Name: Shai Faeriequine

Birthday: December 14

Hometown: Moscow, USSR

Bloodline: Halfblood

Magical Strength (pick one): Conjuring & Summoning

Magical Weakness (pick one): Divination

Year (pick two): 1st or 2nd (aiming to start at the beginning!)

Biography:

It was hard to leave the Motherland. Not for me, so much, but for my mother, who I barely remember. But even if she isn't a part of my life now, almost everything I do is for her. Let me explain thoroughly, because after all of my father's bedtime stories, I think I can piece together my puzzle of an upbringing.

My father, a stolid and erudite man from Norway, had attended Durmstrang. He spent his time there keeping his head down yet buried under copious books given  the school's fixation on purebloods. He did not abide by their close-mindedness nor did he try to sway people to his own unconventional mindset. His perspective afforded him to see beyond the brainwash. And so, magic and knowledge was his life, until he met my mother.

My mother was a muggle, but a disenchanted and highly skeptical one, at that. She was whole-heartedly Russian, which made her whole-heartedly stubborn. While compassionate by nature, she paid no mind to her sexist adversaries and arose to a prominent engineering position in a time where it was unheard of. Her world lay in data and quantifiable facts.

When they met, sparks flew. But not in a good way. Their connection was inexplicably magnetic and yet they argued about everything and anything. No wonder they say love and hate are just a flip of a coin. And so, their veiled attempts at hatred morphed into a more dignified and loving relationship. It was only when she was with child (e.g. me) that my father revealed his magic. Not that he could be blamed for the late reveal. He was plagued with thoughts of her leaving him, laughing in his face without a look back. Surprisingly, she believed him. For she had reached such heights in her highly objective career that she, like other scientists before her, began to believe in the subjective and inexplicable nature of the universe. She was enthralled with the spells he showed her and was convinced that her kin would share his talents. She was not disappointed.

With my impending birth, my father made the permanent relocation to the USSR. He abandoned his ties with Durmstrang; his classmates and the school's reputation was taking a turn that my father wanted no part of. But his wizardry and prowess were both unwelcome and unmatched in Russia. In turn, he spent his days concocting potions (primarily to heal my bumps and bruises), writing books, and waiting for the day that he could teach me all that he knew. I was a ripe 7 years-old when I first, albeit unconsciously, telekinetically moved my porridge towards me. My father was beside himself.

Hard times followed. In the same year, Hitler invaded our country. Our extended family suffered losses and magic seemed to be swept aside in the tide of sorrow. A time warp, that I can't even begin to comprehend the origins of, took my mother away from us. My father, so traumatized with the effects of the war and losing almost everything he loved, began to lose his magic. His spells became effortful which upset him further, beginning a vicious cycle of what I retrospectively can only call the PTSD equivalent for a wizard.

The USSR struggled but prevailed. But my father was never the same again. He was bent on getting me away. From everything. He wanted to see me succeed in magic and there was no chance for me in Russia. He looked on Norway with disgust but on London with hope. The bombing of 5 years prior had left London in disarray but the magical world, while chaotic, remained strong. Hogwarts was our salvation.

So here I am. I've seen a lot for my age and sometimes feel years older. But I don't want your pity because in every experience there is a lesson and for the strife my family has been through, my lesson is this: I will make my parents proud. I will honor the knowledge my father gave me and somehow resurrect his magic with my own. I'll  learn as much as I can to safeguard our world from the Hitlers of the muggle and wizard worlds. That is my mission.

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.

House Request: Ravenclaw

Personality: Shai is an introvert by nature, but a learned extrovert. She likes making friends and making others smile; she believes first and foremost in coexistence. Her charm and charisma mask the circumstances she is gone through and because of this, she intuits the emotions of others easily, as she has become well acquainted with her own emotions through introspection. While she may sometimes carry herself confidently and stoically, she is more in need of nurturing then she lets on.

Early on, Shai developed a natural sense of the universe and her place in it. She tends to feel things out, instead of thinking them through, and usually abides by how her gut or "soul" feels about something or someone. She finds negative emotions such as hate, anger, or sadness fleeting and prefers to dwell on the positives in life. Despite being a witch, she does not use magic nor any other potentially harmful activity as a social crutch. She derives pleasure and her sense of thrill through adventure, especially in the outdoors and through sports. Her energy and curiosity is unceasing and she is always looking to learn more and pick up a new hobby.

Appearance:
Shai is athletic and subsequently lithe in stature. Her hair is more mahogany than red and is naturally straight; she wears it long but enjoys flirting with braids and updo's. Her eyes are a calming light blue, reflective of her old soul and soothing presence. While she takes pride in her appearance and physique, she often finds self-maintenance irrelevant when she has homework to complete or is rushing off to another adventure. She grew up a tomboy and prefers comfort over style but with age, she is starting to acknowledge her femininity and fashion sense.

→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.

Option 2:

The meadow by the lake was her spot. She had staked her claim for a whole week before a pack of Slytherin boys decided to go romping through the meadow and trample her books. She chased them away and eventually befriended them, but today was the day she wanted to perfect her summoning skills. She needed a new spot.

Shai opted for the garden because there was a bigger arrangement of flora than in the meadow. It wouldn't be a proper exercise without a little added challenge. After she had set her belongings down and scoured the area to make sure she was alone she began to focus in a way her muggle upbringing would only label as meditation. Feeling her breaths on their way in and out and acknowledging the sensation of the grass poking at her legs and the wind swaying her hair, she was justifiably distracted when she heard a nearby scuffling followed by a triumphant sneeze somewhere at a distance.

She reluctantly opened her eyes and chuckled as she spied a rat just a few feet from her, stuffing his furry cheeks with a strawberry and looking as furtive as can be.

"You blasted rat! Where are you?" yelled a boy, nearing her location. She raised an eyebrow at the rat, who appeared to be increasing his rate of consumption as if it was his last meal before his inevitable capture.

"Mr. Rat. I know that you're hungry but at the rate you're going you're--" Shai's musings were interrupted by an almighty sneeze not 5 feet away from her. Startled, her shoulders shrugged involuntarily as she looked upon a disgruntled boy, clearly out of his element and needing some solace. She anticipated his defense mechanism before he spoke.

"Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare." She smiled amicably and shook her head. As she prepared to speak she realized she could indeed help him with something. She raised both her eyebrows and one finger to her lips while her other hand pointed at the spot "Mr. Rat" was dining at.

2
Archived Applications / Shai Faeriequine | Elsewhere Child
« on: 22/10/2015 at 22:51 »
E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Shai Faeriequine

Gender: Female

Age: 10

Bloodline: Halfblood


Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): No


Residence: London, transferred from Moscow, USSR


Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)? The Library-where I tutor and get tutored

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

Please list any other characters you already have at the site: None (yet)

Biography: (100 words minimum.)

It was hard to leave the Motherland. My grandparents, so rooted in their ways, decided to stay. But my mother, needing little convincing from my resolute father, made the move away from all that she had known. All for me; for that, I am both eternally grateful, and eternally indebted.

My father, a stolid and erudite man from Norway, had attended Durmstrang. He spent his time there keeping his head down yet buried under copious books given the whole history of Grindelwald, the school's fixation on purebloods, and the ever-suspicious Karkaroff. He did not abide by their close-mindedness nor did he try to sway people to his own unconventional mindset. His perspective afforded him to see beyond the brainwash. And so, magic and knowledge was his life, until he met my mother.

My mother was a muggle, but a disenchanted and highly skeptical one, at that. She was whole-heartedly Russian and whole-heartedly stubborn. While compassionate by nature, she paid no mind to her sexist adversaries and arose to a prominent engineering position in a time where it was unheard of. Her world lay in data and quantifiable facts.

When they met, sparks flew. But not in a good way. Their connection was inexplicably magnetic and yet they argued about everything and anything. No wonder they say love and hate are just a flip of a coin. And so, their veiled attempts at hatred morphed into a more dignified and loving relationship. It was only when she was with child (e.g. me) that my father revealed his magic. Not that he could be blamed. He was plagued with thoughts of her leaving him, laughing in his face without a look back. Surprisingly, she believed him. For she had reached such heights in her highly objective career that she, like other scientists before her, began to believe in the subjective and inexplicable nature of the universe. She was enthralled with the spells he showed her and was convinced that her kin would share his talents. She was not disappointed.

With my impending birth, my father made the permanent relocation to the USSR. He abandoned his ties with Durmstrang; his classmates and the school's reputation was taking a turn that my father wanted no part of. But his wizardry and prowess were both unwelcome and unmatched in Russia. In turn, he spent his days concocting potions (primarily to heal my bumps and bruises), writing books, and waiting for the day that he could teach me all that he knew. I was a ripe 7 years-old when I first, albeit unconsciously, telekinetically moved my porridge towards me. My father was beside himself.

Hard times followed. In the same year, Hitler invaded our country. Our extended family suffered losses and magic seemed to be swept aside in the tide of sorrow. My father, so traumatized with the effects of the war and watching our family suffer, began to lose his magic. His spells became effortful which upset him further, beginning a vicious cycle of what I retrospectively can only call the PTSD equivalent for a wizard.

The USSR struggled but prevailed. But my father was never the same again. He was bent on getting my mother and me away. He wanted to see me succeed in magic. He convinced my mother to leave her family; there was no chance for me in Russia. He looked on Norway with disgust but on London with hope. The bombing of 5 years prior had left London in disarray but the magical world, while chaotic, remained strong. Hogwarts was our salvation.

So here I am. I've seen a lot for a 10 year-old but I hope to see a lot more come this December when I turn 11. I will make my parents proud. I will honor the knowledge my father gave me and somehow resurrect his magic with my own. I'll  learn as much as I can to safeguard our world from the Hitlers of the muggle and wizard worlds. That is my mission.

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:

I quickly wiped the smirk of my face when I realized she was talking to me. The autumn was beautiful and I couldn't resist taking one of muggle science fiction books to read, my back against a tree. The whizzing broomsticks amused me, as did the sight of the petulant, poor girl. She ought to have been just a few years younger than me, but I understood her plight. That had been me not too long ago; granted the gift of magic but stalled in using it. However, our main difference was the way we had grown up around magic. In Russia, it was merely whispered about. Having moved here, I had seen more magic in the first two days than I had seen in 3 years! It was so explicit, so flamboyant, so...intoxicating.

I couldn't help but persuade my father to buy me a broomstick so I would be prepared for my first year. While my mother looked on our father-daughter magical preoccupations with admiration, I couldn't help feeling like we were alienating her. My cache of wizardry books was evenly balanced with muggle books, which I knew made her proud. But I was determined to never forget my muggle blood. I was proud of it. More than likely, this little girl had never heard of the muggle games I grew up with. While her brother and his friends were busy playing amateur quidditch, I grew up on hopscotch and four-square.

I stood up, leaving my book propped up against the tree and brushing my hands against my jeans.

"Well sure I would! Let me go get some chalk, I want to teach you a new game that I think you'll like."



OTHER
How did you find us? Google

Pages: [1]