Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Isolde Morgenstern
Gender: Female
Age: 19
Blood Status: Half-blood

Education: 
Hogwarts-Hufflepuff '43

Residence:
Hogsmeade

Occupation
Free-lance healer (hopefully at Mungo's...

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?
MUNGOS

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: Type your request here.8
• Divination: 8
• Transfiguration: 7
• Summoning: 9

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
nope

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Séraphine Mousseau, Percival Hartwood, Otto Fowl, Stanley Leonard Antcliff, Freja Lundgren

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
Born the illegitimate daughter of a muggle businessman and his mistress, Isolde's life has been anything but certain. Tradition is extremely important to the half-blood, so naturally her parents are a disgrace to her. A very forgiving young lady, she's willing to overlook their mistakes for the sake of family.

A bit rough around the edges, Isolde is still extremely compassionate. In her mind, the plights of others are practically her own. She's a healer solely because of her passionate insistence to help others. Generally, the red head interacts with the elderly. She's not exactly modern, in a broad sense.

Loyalty is extremely important to Isolde. Those who would betray a friend are monsters in her mind. Despite the softness of her heart, she remains tough as a rock against a hard place. The sight of blood couldn't dream of shaking this filly.

Throughout her years at Hogwarts, writing was always her passion. Spellbound was her life and purpose, so she was inclined to try to work with the Daily Prophet. Yet the very sight of weakened wizards brought her to her knees and sent her to Mungo's, a place where she could help people. In the back of her mind, Isolde will always still long to heal with her poetry rather than her hands.

Her soul is that of a grandmother, finding knitting much more soothing than any magic. And like a grandma, Isolde is particularly good at rambling. Family means everything.

After watching her brother's life spiral into chaos, Isolde assured herself that she'd never let herself turn out the same. And staying true to her ambition, she didn't. Life can be a bit lonely without friends or family. Well, she has a family... but not one she likes to associate with. Her younger brother is the most tolerable of the group, but in her eyes the Morgensterns are a rough garden that needs some major weeding.


Roleplay: 
You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character:

Option One -
Amelia Nixon was many things, but she was never a pushover reporter that people could just usher away with a busy shuffle past. She was dedicated and eager to cut to the very middle of the current political tensions because she was Amelia Nixon and her articles would most certainly become front page material.

“Sir, please! It’s for the Prophet, how do you feel-“

Another one brushed passed her, the shuffling busy masses making their way through Diagon Alley for the lunchtime rush. This had been the best possible time to get people, but none of them were giving her anything to go with.

Only momentarily discouraged, the short red headed lady took a seat on a nearby bench. Her quill resting in her left hand and her notepad ready in the opposite hand. Amelia pouted, tapping the quill against her leg as she scanned the waves of people for somebody - anybody - who looked like they had something to say.

She had been dreaming of her name in bold print, Amelia Nixon: The Source of Today’s Tomorrow. She had been dreaming of the larger office and the secretaries that would fetch her the morning coffee and fetch her anything she needed. The VIP interviews and the most exclusive press passes. But all Amelia had was a page seventeen piece on the rising number of frogs in London.

Hardened by a day of no success, the reporter stood up and started to trod off down the alley. A loose stone on the cobble path caught her heel, sending the distraught girl toppling down to the ground.

“Merlin’s fog watch, my heel is broken! Help!” she yelled as she tried desperately to recover her shoe frantically in the middle of the Diagon Alley moving crowds.

Roleplay Response:

Having as much hair as she did was a nightmare. Isolde couldn't step foot out the door without feeling her long red hair whip across her face. It always felt like a warning signal and today, she knew nothing good would come from it.

Delicately one foot danced in front of the other. Switch. Repeat. The girl had always been enamored with the physical art: dancing. Formal training wasn't necessary, all she needed was two feet and an open space. Twirling and leaping came naturally, even if she wasn't exactly professional. It was doubtful that she danced well to any eye other than her own.

And so she frolicked down the street, obvious to any stares or comments. The world moved around Isolde, but her thoughts were her own planet. It was as if she wasn't even there.

The cries of a woman -a reporter- pierced her ears. Diving into action, she attempted a barrel roll towards the lost shoe piece... and fell. She was a dancer but that didn't mean she was graceful. With a free arm, she snagged the shoe and returned to her feet, grinning and brushing herself off. A hand (with the shoe) outstretched towards the woman.

"Is this yours?" she inquired politely.

It was; that much was clear from the the reporter's lack of a shoe. But being polite in the face of idiocy was a virtue.


OTHER
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