E L S E W H E R E A D U L T
CHARACTER INFORMATIONCharacter Name: Oliver KyleGender: MaleAge: 25 (Born 21 March 1993)Blood Status: Half-Blood[/]
Education:
Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - Pukwudgie
Residence:
Rural Southampton, England
Occupation
Ministy, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Centaur Liaison Office
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?
N/A
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: 8
- Divination: 11
- Transfiguration: 7
- Summoning: 6
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason? N/APlease list any other characters you already have at the site:N/ABiography: (300 words minimum.)A full moon shone bright on the night of his birth. His mother, a muggle, was completely unaware of the significance of the power of the full moon that night, a power that seeped into his veins the moment he took his first breath. Oliver was born in Tempe, Arizona, USA to a single-parent. Maria Kyle had fallen in love with a man from England during her teen years who courted her until she informed him of her pregnancy. Her heart was so broken from then on that even the smile of her newborn son would not bring her happiness.
When Oliver was 5 years old the nuns in the orphanage he had been sent to after his mother had committed suicide when he was merely 5 months of age noticed the fading color in his once walnut-touched hair. Before he was 6 his hair had entirely turned white. He ran away from the orphanage on his 9th birthday. The orphanage had been an old church on the outskirts of a small town in Arizona where Native Americans were rumored to still live in the deserts nearby. Oliver's adventure in the desert proved rumors correct.
For two years, the dependents of the Apache tribe of Native American shaman took Oliver under their wing and taught him how to brew natural remedies for diseases and learned to curse others with utmost perfection. They recognized a strong sense of Magic on him when they found him wandering lost in the desert nearly starved to death. When Oliver turned 10, the Shaman aranged for Oliver to begin studying at Ilvermorny in Massachusetts. After Oliver's arrival at Ilvermorny, the Shaman had been found by a group of American Militants. Upon their small settlement's discovery, the Shaman disappeared, Oliver never heard of them again.
Oliver graduated Ilvermorny and continued studying healing magic that he was naturally inclined toward. During a journey through the forests in Ireland, Oliver met a Centaur whom Oliver developed romantic feelings for. It was because of this relationship that Oliver pursued representing the Centaurian population within the English Ministry of Magic later when he emigrated to be close to his Celtic roots. The Shaman often called him Moonchild and Oliver dedicated his free time to studying exactly what type of relationship the Moon has to his bloodline.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.
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:Oliver gathered himself after having nearly lost his balance entirely.
"What in hell?!" he shouted at the man who disrupted what he considered to be a very productive thought surrounding the potency of Witch's Breath in association with the Muggle disease Chicken Pox.
Oliver huffed. He looked the old man up and down and realized his anger had been too sharp. He apologized immediately offering the stranger help with whatever task he was attempting to complete. Oliver had noticed that the man was hovering a box over the huge crowd in Diagon Alley. It didn't seem like the smartest of ideas to Oliver, especially for the beginning of the Holiday season.
"Excuse me, sir" Oliver offered, "I'm so sorry for being so short, you caught me off guard. May I assist you by chance, I believe I may know of an alternative way of transporting your cargo here."OTHERHow did you find us?
Google | TopSites | Recommendation | Facebook | Tumblr | Other
