Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Blanche Marchen
Gender: Female
Age: 19 (DOB-13th February, 1928)
Blood Status: Halfblood

Education: 
Hogwarts ’45-Ravenclaw
Residence:
The family estate in Birmingham

Occupation
Socialite

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?
Not yet, anyway

Requested Magic Levels:

• Charms: 10
• Divination: 7
• Transfiguration: 7
• Summoning: 8

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
The whole family? Idk, not really

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Ryan Scruffler

Biography: (300 words minimum.)

Once upon a time, in a land far away… a prince travels from one end of the world to another, ever determined to find the love of his life. They had met under the beautiful light of the moon, she in her angelic blue satin gown and he in the princely clothes and crown. Momentarily discouraged by his lack of disguise, the prince took under the shadow of an enormous oak tree to rest, only to find her already there…

They rode off into the sunset, to get married and live happily ever after. Or did they?

Eamonn Märchen had always thought he was the luckiest man in the world, having his wife Heloise. They had three beautiful children, all of whom were destined to become great people later in their lives. Everything ran smoothly, everything was a cog that fitted with the others seamlessly in the enormous mechanism. That is, until one particularly troubling piece stopped working and jammed all others. The family’s aristocratic luxurious lifestyle had taken a toll on their wallets, purses and vaults.

Being the middle child and the only daughter in the immediate family, Blanche’s life was as hard as one can imagine. With Noir groomed for the mantle of family head and Blu doted upon as the youngest child, she left out more often than not. Her beautiful eyes, her charming smile and dark silky hair were tools her parents would willingly use.

Heloise loved her daughter, and in her eyes, grooming her into a fine lady who would melt the hearts of many young men was the perfect way of showing it. The young girl was taught how to talk, how to walk, how to eat, all like a lady since the very first day. Blanche did not mind, she knew that one day, she would have to carry the family on her two shoulders.

With age came other problems for Blanche, her social peers and her parents being the worst. Expectations were sky high. She was expected to ace her examinations, to charm the professors, to become an angel who would grace the ball. She had to blend with cliques of all kinds, never daring to show her true nature. In time, the kind sweet child who wanted no more than to go on a broom ride with her family etched away and from the ashes rose another, one who held a disdain for everything.

While her friends swooned over boys, talked about make-up and gossiped over other girls, Blanche simply could not bring herself to enjoy any of these peculiar activities. She could have had all the boys wrapped around her finger, buy all the cosmetics they could imagine and smite the other girls. No, she was higher, better, meant for something greater.

All that faded though, with one night gone wrong. One of her friends, the giggly weird ones, had fallen hard for a (very handsome) muggle boy, who even managed to intrigue Blanche herself. Naturally, as she was the greatest overachiever in their little circle, Blanche was asked to help the lovesick girl. They spent days working on the right banter, the right dress, the right hair. Finally, she asked to accompany the girl to meet the boy (a wing-woman of sorts).

Blanche couldn’t make a pumpkin carriage or glass slippers, but she did give her friend a beautiful dress (albeit a pink one, not blue). As they came into the restaurant as the clock struck midnight. The magic never wavered, for there was none. The Muggle boy was indeed, very charming. As her friend bumbled like an idiot, Blanche couldn’t help but smile at the boy.

“Hello there, I’m the author of all the things this nitwit is trying to say to you.” How she would have loved to say that. She needn’t though, as the boy rejected the other girl’s advances and approached her. She thought it was the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Or so she hoped.

Everything that followed was disastrous. Her family, even though they’re Halfbloods, had a dislike of Muggles. Her friends accused her of deliberately misguiding the unlucky girl so she could take him for her own. None of this hindered her though, as she was determined to keep one good thing in her life.

Of course it didn’t last.

Eventually, he found out about her magical abilities and his medieval views on witches came out into the open. She was forced to Obliviate him before he caused a ruckus, at the expense of her broken heart. Instead of consoling her, people chided her for being such a fool.

It was never easy, but all scars heal.

Now, she has spread her wings and opened her eyes. She was ready.

If happily ever after did exist…
I would still be holding you like this…
 

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:

The day was almost halfway done and here she was,Blanche Märchen, weaving through the crowd in the ever jammed Diagon Alley. She walked at a brisk pace, for punctuality was one’s greatest asset and she was not looking forward to being looked down upon because she was late. Her dear father has been running short on funds again, owing some of it to his gambling habits. The man she was going to meet was an old man, one she didn’t even bother to remember the name. As with all old men, the procedure was fairly simple. A few bat of the eyelashes, a faked warm smile, and he would be ogling her like she was some sort of exotic animal. Fools always completed their part of the deal in the end. Her father would deal with the opportunities she had afforded him and keep the family running smoothly.

She thought about taking off her very long and stuffy coat. The hazy morning has caused her to wear the obnoxiously thick coat, in case it got chilly. Of course, mother nature did not smile on her. She wiped a drop of sweat from her forehead with her yellow handkerchief and allowed herself a quick view of the many witches and wizards rushing to eat their lunch before they get back to their work. How much she wanted to be able to walk along the crowd, get along with normal people and gossip with other females her age. So far, the only likely conversation was the one she had with her grandmother about the fashion of 1887.

“Merlin’s fog watch, my heel is broken! Help!”

The sudden cry for help made her head turn in the direction of the source. Her eyes though, fell on the shoe (and its broken heel) that landed at her feet. Bemused she looked around and spotted the plump redhead, who was on the ground, shoeless. She ignored her. “Such an incompetent waste of magic” she thought in her mind. Even if she wanted to help her, she couldn’t. There was the meeting. Oh that stupid meeting. Her tiny sense of kindness (or was it rebellion?) kicked in and before she knew, she was picking up the shoe with her wand out.

“Reparo.” Those words never escaped her lips, as pursed as ever, as she repaired the shoe. Satisfied with her handiwork, she walked over to the fallen woman and offered the shoe back, her best attempt at a smile on her face.

OTHER
How did you find us?
Once upon a time, I googled Harry Potter rp sites lol