Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Cyber Deidre Sable-Vaelbe

Gender: Female

Age: 15

Bloodline: Muggleborn

Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): 
Jonathan Sable, biological father, absent due to Time Warp
Jane Sable (nee Drake), biological mother, deceased
Wilhelm Vaelbe, adoptive father, NPC
Elizabeth Vaelbe (nee O'Conner), adoptive mother, played character

Residence: Hogsmeade, transferring to America (probably)

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?
Endsworth-Laurie, Psych Ward (patient)

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
Vaelbes and O'Conners - relatives

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Wolfe Sable-Vaelbe, Yvonne Dechavez, Crimson Stormheart, et al.

Biography: (100 words minimum.)
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

A sob shook itself out of her throat, past wet, chapped lips that had stopped drooling onto the pillow she hugged tight to her chest. She pressed her face into it and continued to sob.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry -"

She vaguely heard someone knock on the door, but she ignored it, opting instead to curl around the pillow, protectively.

It wasn't him at the door, or anywhere else, so why should she even bother getting up?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so-"

The words slurred around her tears and threatened to choke her when yet another sob tried to simultaneously escape her throat, and she swallowed thickly for a few moments.

This was what he felt, she thought blearily, when he was under the water. It was probably very cold there. She thought, maybe he'd tried yelling for her -

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry -"

She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. She wouldn't want to stain his pillow, which still had a trace of his warmth, his presence, though it was faint now, days after. She clung to it as it faded with each passing second. She could just barely feel it now.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm-"

She really should've gone after him. At least if she drowned too, they'd be together in Heaven with Mother and Father.

"-sorry, so sorry, so-"

Another knock on the door, a little more insistent this time, and a voice called out, "Deidre, dear, come out, please. You need to eat."

Eat? Eat. Food. Mmm food.

Her stomach hurt, like it was trying to bite its way out of her skin. Maybe that's what it needed -

She shook her head, "No." It came out as a croak, a tiny little croak and she remembered how much he was so scared of frogs because of what Mother told him about the Plagues -

"No, no, no, no -"

"Deidre." More insistent knocking.

"NO!" It was still croaky, so she wasn't sure if she'd been heard, so she threw the nearest thing at hand instead - not the pillow, not the pillow, not the pillow - or his bag, even, he loved his bag and the books of knowledge it always held inside -

THUMP.

The thing vaguely looked like a shoe, as it fell to the floor. Oh crap, she'd forgotten to take her shoes off.

She sniffed again, wiping the snot off her nose against her crusty shirtsleeve, and slipped her other shoe off -

The voice spoke up again, gentler this time, "Dei -"

- and threw the shoe at the door, wearily, the resulting thump on the wood sounding weaker, as weak as she felt. Maybe the shoe was sad too. Or tired, like her.

She was so tired, so tired of them calling her. They weren't Wolfe. They weren't Mother. Or Father. They weren't her family. Her real family.

So what if they'd taken her and Wolfe in, adopted her - them, let them take their name and add it to theirs.

Sable-Vaelbe.

It's not like there's another Sable out there. She should, she should -

She didn't even know where she was going with this anymore. She just wanted to cry and hug her brother. So she did, with a pillow as his substitute because he wasn't here, he could never be here again, never -

"Alright, I'll leave you alone again, but please, please come out to eat soon. Please."

Footsteps sounded and faded away and she breathed out a choked sob, absently brushing off the dried mud-soil-dirt-whatever off Wolfe's sheets, the ones in the Vaelbe house, not theirs, not really his, but close enough.

"Sorry," she whispered to the bed, to him, wherever he was now.

She snuggled into the pillow again, as fresh tears ran down her cheeks, and she wondered why shew as magical when all it did was make Mother get sick and die, make Father grieve and die, make Wolfe drown and die. Indirectly, but still.

Useless. She was useless. Her magic was - useless.

Wolfe must be in Heaven now, with Mother and Father, all of them shaking their heads at her. Because she was going to Hell. Because she didn't save the only real family she had left.

(Later, she'll think that okay, maybe she did deserve to be stuck in this hospital for a while, a long while maybe, because where else would they put her anyway, when she was this useless?)

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry -"

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:

Her feet were sore.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been walking (she'd wanted to get out of the house; it was suffocating her, for some reason, maybe it hated her too), just that her feet had been moving (left, right, left, right, left -) for quite a while now, somewhere, towards a destination unknown, with the direction onwards.

She kept walking.

She'd felt a little cold, so she'd put her coat on, vaguely realizing a few moments after stepping out that it was a sunny day with no need of the thick fabric to protect her.

She shivered, and kept walking.

She kept her head down because the sun was annoying; it was always annoying, but he loved being under the sun, for some reason. She was surprised he hadn't gone blind by it after all these years. (Gone, gone, gone...)

She swallowed thickly, and kept walking.

She heard someone yell something, and she stopped for a while, wondering why someone was yelling (could it- no, no, it couldn't, of course not, he's dead), and blinked. There was a little girl looking at her, and asking her a question.

She stared at the girl, motionless.

"I."

She hesitated, unsure what to say without shouting (it was all she'd done these days, except sob, and she definitely didn't want to do that right now) - the little girl hadn't done anything for her to shout at.

She finally decided on "No." And a shrug too, in case.

"Sorry, kid," she said. And froze. It was like something just switched in her, all of a sudden, since a sob broke out of her throat and her eyes started to burn with shed tears.

Well, crap.

She turned away, and - sank down to the ground, and cried.

She was tired of walking, she realized. Her feet were sore.

OTHER
How did you find us? Recommendation from a year ago

Is it okay if I sign up two egos in the same class? As in, for example, I would sign up a brother and a sister I'm both playing for Charms. Would it be okay or should I sign them up for different classes each?

Hello!

1) So I'm either too lazy to search for it or I just didn't see the right thread, but I've always wondered... How many characters can I have until I have to apply for a subscription?

2) And I didn't know until Wally informed me about it that I need permission for Dei's scars. They're not magical or anything, mind you; they're just deep wounds she got when she was younger that left a mark for her to remember. They're five in all, plus two more she just "recently" got. So, my question is, do I still have to ask permission for them?

Thank you!

~Cyb

THE BASICS
Name: Cyber Deidre Sable
Nickname: Dei

Former Character's Name (if you had one): None


CHARACTER DETAILS
House Request: None

Year: 1, 2

Bloodline: Muggleborn

Magical Strength (pick one): Transfiguration

Magical Weakness (pick one): Divination

Biography:
There have been very few times in her life when Deidre Sable was immensely scared and she didn't care if it showed. One of those times was when she had seen a ginormic spider (Not exaggerating! It was as big as her palm!) in their bathroom. She had felt like her lungs were going to burst from the loudness of her shriek. This was one of those times, but instead of screaming her lungs off, she was silent, like a mouse approaching a lion.

Her mother was reading the acceptance letter from some school called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which she'd snatched out of Dei's hands when said teen had read enough snippets from it to send her mind going into circles. But even though she was as confused as someone navigating with an upside-down map, she couldn't help but feel apprehensive when her mother took the letter from her hands and started skimming it, then slowing down and rereading to weigh each and every word as either a threat or a bad omen.

Coming from a school for supposed "witches and wizards" was most definitely not a good thing.

"What is the meaning of this?" her mother bit out with a look of restrained anger in her face.

"Of what, dear?" her father asked from inside the living room, where her mother marched into, promptly shoving the letter in her husband's face with a sharp, "Is this one of your brother's doings again?"

Carefully closing the book he was reading, Deidre's father took the letter and read it with care. Halfway through, though, his brow crinkled in what Dei could only describe as concern or worry. When he finished, he sighed, stood, walked over to where she was standing in the living room archway, and said in a deadpan tone and sadness in his eyes as he brandished the piece of parchment in her face, "Welcome to the wizard part of the Sable bloodline."

Everything else since then had seemed like a blur.

Her father then sat her down in front of the fireplace and told her a story she had heard numerous times from her late grandfather: one of wizards and witches in training going off to a magical place called Hogwarts, where they are taught the art of the wizarding world. Aforementioned deceased grandfather had had a great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather who wanted to attend but only his sister was able to, for he was a Squib--one born without any wizardly powers into a wizard family. The usual happened, he married a Muggle--non-magical or "normal" folk--had children, and after many generations of Muggle children, here Dei was, the first Muggleborn wizard in the Sable family tree.

After a repeat of that story, her father then told her that she should pack her things and get ready while he phoned her Uncle Marcus, one of those Muggle Sables who believe in the wizarding world, and his current girlfriend, her Aunt Marge, who was actually a witch, not a Muggle.

When she entered her room, though, Dei automatically walked over to her window seat and settled herself down with a tiny pouf! from the pillows. Slowly, she let her head fall onto the cold, rain-splattered window pane. Her face was expressionless but behind her eyes, her brain was working on overdrive. She was a witch. She was going to Hogwarts, where other magic folk were inhabiting. Hogwarts was in London. London was a whole country away. All aforemetioned concluded to one thing: she would have to leave home behind. Even if it's just for ten months, it's still a pretty long time (and distance) away from everything she knows and is comfortable with.

Going to London would mean leaving her best buds behind--and it took a whole two years to actually get comfortable with them (and then another year wherein they started walking down the path from "friends" to "besties"). Not only that, but what if she wouldn't be allowed to bring any of her books? She shifted in her seat so that the back of her head was resting on the window pane and she was facing the whole of her room. Her eyes spanned the areas where she'd moped, sulked, cried, slept, cried to sleep, laughed, read, studied, drawn, daydreamed, and listened to music. Going to London would mean having to adjust to a new routine. Well, if there's one thing she's good at, it's adapting.

"Oh no," she suddenly thought, her eyes widening in horror, "what if they don't allow hair dyes in the school? Or radios? Or beanies? Or... or... Okay, okay, don't panic, don't panic. Dad said Uncle Marcus would answer all my questions because Aunt Marge is... a witch." Frowning at this piece of information she had been given earlier but had just now gotten through her, she couldn't help but wonder what other secrets her family were hiding from her. When she heard the doorbell ring, though, a grin broke on her face and she dashed downstairs to greet her favorite uncle and his girlfriend.


ADDITIONAL INFORMATION
Please include these sections if they are not addressed in your biography.

Personality:
Dei is pretty much full of opposites: she can be pretty impulsive sometimes, but she analyzes before doing something other times; she likes to keep to herself, which makes others view her as a very shy and quiet loner, but she is very boisterous with her friends; she likes to read anything but textbooks, which immediately makes her bored or irritated for being so wordy after a few pages, but she could handle non-fiction books that have nothing to do with math or science or history; she can be patient and understanding, but she is also very impatient, jittery, and irritable when she's a little too eager about something; she hates the sun because it's too hot and bright for her taste and much prefers the rain (she loves going outside and run around under it when she was a kid but she loves to just bask in the comfort it brings whenever she's under it), but hates any body of water for fear of drowning and would much prefer to stay inside the house and read or draw all day.

Aside from those, she's pretty cheerful and fun to be around with (in a she-did-something-embarrassingly-funny-again way) if she really knows you. But she can be pretty paranoid and jittery too, especially when it comes to anything with more than four legs or no legs at all. She is the type of person who should always have her brain and hands working, otherwise when she's not doing anything, she'll annoy anyone and everyone around her. When she's really angry at someone, she'd immediately think up a very bloody and very painful death for whoever it was, but she couldn't bear to actually do them; the sight of blood, she could handle, but the sight of guts, she could not. She absolutely hates confrontations because she doesn't know what to say, and when faced with it, she usually says the wrong things, so she usually just keeps her mouth shut and turns around when she's about to approach someone crying. When she's scared (which would be most of the time) she doesn't let her fear show and instead puts on a brave, apathetic, or indifferent mask, because "Fear is a weakness," as her father told her so many times before. But when she does let her fear show, it's when her brain can't react oppositely to let her face it head-on, and she goes into shock or screams.

Appearance:
Dei stands at four feet and ten inches, which, she guesses, is pretty average for any girl her age, though her friends are much taller than her. She has electric blue eyes, which are darker than her parents' who both have baby blue eyes and which she shares with her brother and favorite uncle. She also has naturally black hair that hovers just above her shoulders, which she hates because she's the only dark-haired member in their family (she got it from her father though, but his hair was already graying when she was growing up so she was pretty ashamed of her hair color by the age of eight), so she uses temprorary dyes every school day to hide her "abnormality". She wanted to permanently dye her hair blonde, like her mother and brother, but her mom almost had a fit when she found her about to apply the dye to her hair in the bathroom. So she settled with the temporary ones so that they would be back to their normal color when she arrived home. She likes to hide her hair underneath a knit blue, red, or green beanie to completely hide it when it's not dyed. This doesn't always work, though.

SAMPLE ROLEPLAY

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:
Quidditch was a very entertaining sport, Dei had concluded after watching her first game, but it saddened Dei that the losing team/House always looked so miserable after the game. This was no different. Everyone except the losing House, who were sulking or moping about, was either celebrating with the victorious House or jeering at the House that lost. One Quidditch member, the one that cost his House their victory, was exiting the Great Hall with a very dark, brooding cloud over his head. "The poor guy," Dei thought. Without any thought of what she was doing, she followed him out. Only when he yelled at her, did she stop and ask herself "What is the purpose of my following him outside?" Her mouth, however, wasn't in contemplation and instead she heard herself say, "I'm sorry but I don't have a camera with me at the moment." Her eyes widened in horror; really, she should have said nothing at all and went back inside. She mentally cursed her treacherous mouth, but there was no turning back now.

She sighed and, before he could react to what had flown out of her mouth, she walked towards him so that she was toe to toe with him, stared him dead in the eyes and said, "I'm sorry about the game, but I think you should just suck it up, apologize to your Captain, swear that you'll do better next time, and maybe you'll be forgiven. Or if you won't be, then at least give a very good excuse as to how and why you dropped the Quaffle." Okay, I just blew it again, she thought as she stared fearfully into his eyes, but she didn't let her fear show and instead hid it behind her seriousness.

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