Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Michael Albear
Gender: Male
Age: 21 (one year younger than Azrael Albear)

Education: 
Hogwarts – Slytherin – class of 1940

Residence:
Hogsmeade Village

Occupation
Anticipated entry into Merlin’s Order of defense

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?

None

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: 10
• Divination: Type 10
• 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?
None

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Casper Baines

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
Michael was not one for writing like his dear brother, he didn’t trust the words he wrote, paranoid that the paper and ink could whisper into the air and spill his secrets.

Though it may have been wise that he did not practice in the keeping of thoughts; they were dangerous, both to his family and himself. He much preferred reading other’s thoughts, better to hide his own with the constant flow others.

Born into the Albear branch, second son and first brother, Michael was born to be the executioner for the king to be, the dog of war that would follow every command and relish in his obedience.

It was a hard journey and would be until the death of both father and grandfather but through the years they would teach him well, well enough to become the very blade that rests against their throats, waiting for his beloved king’s order.

He was expected to be perfect from birth, to strive to be as bright and as brilliant as his brother; he would never reach that goal. He would be seen as well as those that would come after him as incomplete, aids and tools for the heir of Albear.

Though, he did not mind his fate, in fact, he enjoyed it to a degree of necessity because those beautiful hands were not destined to be covered in the blood and grime that would be asked of him. He would take the brunt of the underworld, shield his brother’s light from those that would devour it.
He would grow as the light grows weaker in order to protect it and shrink when it shone its brightest.

He had never expected to have accepted his fate so readily, though it may not have been exactly as his sire and elder had expected it to be, he did what was expected as he had been taught to.

For when he was born he was sweet, gentle and caring but he held a rage within him that showed a darker side, a side that could be used if trained right. His gentle demeanour had to be taken away and so did the outbursts, they were stripped from him. All were weaknesses and imperfections that the family could not allow to fester and spread to the rest of the generation. Kindness was infectious, a disease of weakness that would result in the down fall of their family.
The Alvears were mighty because they showed no weakness, they discarded the weak.

Michael’s training had started early, early enough that when he had his first fit of rage he had received a sound beating, had cried to his mother and in return, cast away and punished once more for crying. At an early age he learnt that there was no such thing as a caring mother or a gentle touch except for one.
Through the punishments, disciplines and tutoring Michael had but one comfort, his brother, Azrael.

He felt protected, safe and best of all, loved.

As years went by and Michael’s episodes grew worse, a mental condition called imminent explosive disorder if they believed in such things in their young had developed, which started the act of Michael sneaking into his brother’s bed for comfort from the punishments that resulted from said condition. He needed the protection, his nightmares having grown from aching bones, phantom pains and whispered promises. This would become a habit that would never break, a method of functioning that would destroy the man if it were to be taken away.

This was the start of a secondary illness.

With his comforts and his pains Michael learnt to grow, to adapt and to hide urges behind blank walls and false promises of loyalty. He still suffered from his rages and would still continue to do so even now, he would just become better suited to the punishments dealt.

His first challenge had been dealing with the ‘love’ of family, the need to fix and repair the boy and then man to be better, to be stronger, to be Azrael.

The first year of Hogwarts for the oldest brother had caused all attention to shift toward the second oldest, the boy still had things to learn and ways to do them. The lacked a year of knowledge that the heir of albear had and the willingness of it.

Said lessons were brutal and harsh, it left him aching and shaking each night. He felt unsafe and unloved and with no brother, no warmth of the only person that cared for him to comfort him he had no anchor to keep him afloat. He felt cold for the rest for the year.

To this day he still does not have a full recollection of that year, it was a dark year and one he refuses to remember but it had set his second condition whirling and the birth of a third. The third not as noticeable but it could prove fatal if he was left to his own devices.

The night had left its marks though, on bad days where he remembered it or some of it most likely, he starts to ache, to become restless and violent in all manners and when alone it has a chance of being self-destructive.

Thoguth one may think that the boy had become cold by now he still held love for his brothers, maybe not the twins as much as he did for Azrael and his youngest brother, Ra’asiel but it was still there, mildly.

Ra’asiel was a fragile thing, a glass butterfly in his eyes, beautiful but oh so fragile that you dare not touch or else it shatter and die. He often snuck in when no one was looking during his little brother’s treatments, laid with him and tried to sooth the pains he suffered because he understood the pains of this family and if Azrael had helped then maybe he could too.

It wasn’t until the boy had tried to break for freedom that everything ended and Michael’s heart shattered as hard as his brother’s glass wings had. However unlike Ra’asiel, Michael’s heart would not be mended in the way that was normal, it became twisted and even more fragile with breaks and pieces missing.

Michael broke and azrael picked up the pieces, fit them back in such a way that it felt that his heart was moulded for only his brother. To be his servant and loyal soldier, it was the first time that Michael set his eyes on his family and bore teeth with the intention to tear through blood and bone.
 
He had developed Nightingale syndrome.

From that point on, he lived for his brother. He became his servant and in return his brother became his God, his king and one and only.
When he had been sorted he didn’t so much as dare the sorting hat, in fact, he threatened it. He promised hell and war within the rooms if he did not get what he wanted, if he was not with his brother.

His mind bathed in red with only the image of his brother, pure, white and clean in the middle of it.

He got what he wanted and he was happy. His brother was with him, he made sure he ate, he became the only person to calm him down during a violent fit of rage and he became the only piece of peace he would ever experience. 

When Hogwarts was over, Michael kept his appearance perfect but his teeth sharp. He bullied his brother Ra’asiel when he saw the affection his brother had for the brother, pinched him to create bruises and his love for the twins had dropped, Out of sight out of mind.

He kept one hobby though, keeping snakes of all kinds and hopefully donating venom to create anti-venom if the hospital ever cares for it.

He bides his time now, works for his brother and stays close to keep him safe and in some way to hopefully bath in a light he no longer deserves. He’d developed muscle; he’d grown in strength both in mind and body even though the mind was more of a minefield, riddled with protection that would harm others and himself.

Damaged, broken and put together wrong from being a perfect, gentle boy Michael now stood, behind his king to be. He was not his equal but his servent and when needed his dog fo war that would soon settle his jaws around the families throats mindlessly waiting for an order from only one voice.

The voice of his brother, heir of Albear, his God; Azrael.



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:
He’d been taking a leisurely stroll from the pet store, something he actually enjoyed in his past time when his brother was busy and he’d had to personally meet his father on his own.

He didn’t like the man, set his teeth on edge and his back to straighten to the point it was painful but he had to, disobedience was not tolerated in the Albear home so he’d gone, listened and then left as silently as he’d came.

He wasn’t like his brother, he didn’t command attention, rather he found he scared it off, his face always set in a hard expression, relaxed but with a promise of a fist in the mouth if one was to so much as bother him in or waste his time.

So when some elderly man had bumped into him he didn’t so much as move, he could only bring himself to quirk an eyebrow at the man as he watched, debated on what he should do. If he ignored the man chances were that someone in the family would find out, a chance for one of his brothers or someone trying to find good graces with his father, telling them that Michael has been rude while he held the name of Albear.

It was not something he wanted to deal with, not with the holidays coming. Being one of the least liked member of the family chances were he’d be punished further.
He mentally sighed and looked at the man with a small smile, practiced to point it looked real “it’s quite alright, sir. The weather and the crowds are most unkind this time of year, accidents do happen.”

He looked the man up and down quickly, a quick flick of the eyes to look at all the glitter and tinsel decorating the man.

“Let me help clean this up, it’s the least I could do” his smile stayed polite, friendly and his posture welcoming but all he could think was that he wanted to go home, forget this man and how tiring it was to fake being nice and tend to his snakes in peace for the rest of the day. 

OTHER
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