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Topics - Waldo Woodrow Angerville

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E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

Character Name: Waldo Woodrow Angerville.
Gender: Male.
Age: 18-ish.
Blood Status: Halfblood.

Hogwarts, Hufflepuff - Dropout ‘45.

Hurst Road, Bexley, London.

Archivist and Administrative Assistant.

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?
Yes, the Ministry.

Requested Magic Levels:
  • Charms: 6.
  • Divination: 12.
  • Transfiguration: 7.
  • Summoning: 7.
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Cladis Perses Gallion, Loxias Ricardus Jr., Salazar Ricardus, Arcus Ricardus, Ignis Fides Rivers.

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
The psychological need to belong has always been compromised in the life of Waldo Woodrow Angerville. Always having found difficulty in settling down and accepting the way he misfitted the current context, always finding it hard to stay in one place for too long as he was driven by an unmistakable wanderlust which continually chases him from one place to the next. A home is hard to find in times of war wherein everything is destructed, not only a familial home, but also the ties crafted out of trust between one’s former friends and foes. Uncertainties have always ruled his existence and plagued his ever busy mind, making him feel lost in the world more often than not - like the world is nothing more but an ill-fitting jacket he could not make himself comfortable in wearing.

His undiagnosed case of hyperthymesia has not eased his search for answers. For this condition causes his mind to continuously replay past events and memories in response to the present happenings. This makes up for the fact that he lives more in the past than the present, his brain dwelling on events which have already occurred whilst finding it difficult to take in the present at the same time. It is difficult for him to distinguish the two and tell them apart, making him unable to tell whether he himself belongs more to his past memories or the present occurrences. It makes it hard for him to focus on the present at all times, especially if the present situation consists of social interactions. No matter how hard he would try, he would consistently prove himself to be incapable to follow along the lines of a conversation and fail to make sense of all the words linked together in sentences. Eventually, he finds himself to be pulled back into the past again and deviate from the conversation - posing himself involuntarily as rude.

His condition, however, does not imply that his memory is impeccable. Due to the continuous stream of recollections which passes his mind’s eye, he finds difficulty in recalling book knowledge and wisdom. The facts and the small little details would oftentimes surpass him, rendering his mind to be blank at moments he had to reproduce book knowledge. Waldo has always learnt best when he could practice, for as long as he would be able to link knowledge with a practice-gained past event, he would be able to reproduce it.

Nor does his condition imply that he can reproduce his entire autobiography, that he can recall everything that has ever happened to him for he has never been able to dig back in his recollections as far as that he could remember where his roots lay. He has never been able to remember who had left him on the doorstep of the orphanage where the caregivers had found him and taken him in, had given him a name and had guessed his birthdate. He has never been able to check all labels he had been assigned in the first year of his life by the loving caregivers, which makes up for him continuously doubting his own identity and therewith the person he ought to be.

But this entire situation and condition would have been workable if he had not fallen prey to his own merciless projection as well. He is prone to fill in the blanks in what he does not know, which means that he envisions what others think of him and what kind of expectations and desires they cherish for him without checking whether his assumptions align with the reality. Too often has he felt like he could not live up to the expectations others had in mind for him, too often he has felt like he has left people down and has disappointed them whilst it never was his intention to. But the guilt that inevitably followed was all-embracing, making him distance himself from all whom he held dear and considered his friend in order to protect them from the disappointment he thought he would inevitably evoke in them. He has become sure over time that people are better off without him, that they could better live their lives apart from him.

It is for this reason that Waldo has dropped out of Hogwarts after a struggling fifth year. He found trouble in keeping up with the pace of the educational institute which expected him to push himself to the limits and to cross the borders of his comfort-zone, they expected him to perform better at the subjects he took and at least improve more steadily in the magical arts than he possibly could. He grew tired of the constant reminder that every single student around him was doing a better job than him, grew tired of having to watch how all his fellow students managed to gain skills before he did. But most of all, he grew tired of feeling like he kept them back and limited them in all they could potentially achieve. Not to mention that Waldo knows that his undiagnosed Hyperthymesia potentially makes people feel awkward around him to the degree that they don’t like to spend time with him. It’s therefor that he prefers to distance himself and shies away from large groups of people, either by pretending to be a chamber plant or hiding behind one.

Or running away from all the obligations of the wizarding world.

After he dropped out of Hogwarts, he has fled to the muggle world where he hoped that the society expected less from him due to their lacking emphasis on magical skills. Not to mention that he was next to nobody in the muggle world, meaning that he could start over again with a clean slate. They were unaware of his shortcomings and his flaws, knew next to nothing about his past mistakes and missteps and cared too little to find out. Yet, although the muggle world was unaware of his past and everything he had been through before, Waldo’s mind continued to revel in the beauties of the past. No matter he had tried to run away from it the best he could, the harder he tried to run away from it, the more he found himself to be pulled back into the memories and recollections of everything he had ever been. In an attempt to console the past as a recurrent theme of his life, Waldo picked up a job as an archivist and administrative assistant during his stay in the muggle world, finding it easier to allow himself to drown completely within the past than the present. Always trying to run away from the consequences his past decisions had for him and the ugliness with which they presented themselves, ever trying to dash the expectations and desires others had had for him.

He had turned his back on the wizarding world, but he too realized that he could not forever ignore the fact that it had left an imprint on his entire life and thus belonged to the past he could not run from. He could not continue to fool himself for the rest of eternity and not go back to where presumably his roots lay. So he has returned to the wizarding world shamefully, like a beaten dog who returns home after having run away. He feels ashamed for having run away, he feels guilty of having left his friends behind without saying goodbye. He is back, but there is no telling whether his past self has survived.


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 was completely and utterly lost. It did not help much that all the landmarks that he might have remembered from before had been covered with a thick blanket of snow, nor did it help that the retreating darkness still seemed to cover up some of the characteristics of several buildings that he otherwise might have recalled from when he had been younger and shopping for supplies for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A recollection which now inevitably belonged to a piece of his past that he was most keen on forgetting and to never think about it again, yet he could not hold back the memories which flooded his mind as soon as the institute was brought back to his attention. The countless corridors, the moving staircases, the pictures which both moved and talked like nosy little children who empathized with the students of Hogwarts simply because they themselves would never be able again to experience everything they went through.

But he too remembered some of the faces of the professors which had taught various classes, in his opinion always keen on killing off their students during the term so that their job would get easier along the way with less individuals’ wellbeing to care about. And he remembered the way the Quidditch pitch had looked like when the colors of various houses were spanned across the tribunes, the way all students of the respective houses would scream their lungs out for the selective few which had managed to get through the tryouts without killing or critically injure themselves. Familiar faces passed his mind’s eye, faces of people he had called friends before he had left behind in his egocentric attempt of escapism.

Hands dug deeper into the pockets of his jacket, meanwhile nuzzling the scarf which was wrapped tightly around his neck to keep him as warm as possible. His eyes squinted slightly against the cold wind which tugged at his clothes in order to freeze him to death right there and then on the street. Surely, he should have picked a better moment of the day to do his errands, the weather outside resembled Christmas in Hell if nothing else.

Hunched slightly to brace himself against the cold and wind, he could hear another male’s voice carried on the thin crisp air which surrounded them. He could not make out much as his hearing was impaired by the ridiculous pair of pink earmuffs he wore, yet he quickly glanced over his shoulder to see what the fuss was about, halting slightly in his track to make sure that he did not slip.

"Coming through! Coming th--- arrrgh!"

"Ah!" He let out a sharp cry as something attacked him from above, immediately reaching upwards to try and get the attackers on him. He swatted with his hands at the brightly colored tinsel which had wrapped itself around his shoulders as if they were most determined he was just another Christmas tree in need of decoration. "Get ‘m off! Get ‘m off!"

"For Merlin's sake!"

"Merlin’s got nothing to do with it!" Waldo yelled out as he continued to swat at the decorations until they fell defeated at his feet, looking perfectly innocent against the white backdrop of freshly fallen snow. He tilted his head slightly to the right as he looked at the tinsel, stepping back slightly as if he was scared that it might attack him once more like vicious snakes made out of cheap material.

"I am so sorry! This blasted snow!"

"What did you do that for?" Waldo cried out, on the verge of a hysterical breakdown. He looked up to find the other man’s gaze, staring incredulously at the other as he wrapped his own arms defensively around his own torso.

How did you find us? The mystery of expanding one's knowledge skills.

Archived Applications / Waldo Woodrow Angerville
« on: 01/12/2014 at 08:22 »

Application for Hogwarts School

Name: Waldo Woodrow Angerville.

Birthday: 16 October 1929.

Hometown: Fordwich, Kent.

Bloodline: Halfblood.

Magical Strength: Divination.

Magical Weakness: Charms.

Year: Third or Fourth (Preferred).

He hated the steadfastness of the rain. He hated the way it would tinkle against the windows like hundred little fingers that beckoned him to go outside. That pleaded him to surrender himself to their cold and lethal embrace. To allow them to soak his clothes before they would permeate his skin and chill his bones and muscles until he wouldn’t be able to move. The cold would then find its way through his veins and his nerves, creeping up to his most vital organs, and cold fingers would wrap themselves around his heart to cure his body from the lifetime long disease of living. His breath fogged on the cold window, transfiguring into the faces that belonged to the fingertips that beckoned him, gazing at him with an icecold intensity.

The boy’s dark eyes averted themselves from the window, raising his lanky figure off the windowpane he had been sitting on. He could feel the the chill of the window had already seeped into his muscle tissue, making him feel rigid. An almost irritated huff ripped itself from his lips as he rolled his shoulders leisurely, eyes squeezing shut in concentration.

As rigid as his body appeared to be, as resilient was his mind which continued to show him images of past events and happenings that he had attended, faces of people whom he had met and the little personal signature moves that stressed their uniqueness.

He lived in the past, and he could say that he had gotten used to it over time.

His mind brought him back to the things he had experienced before, would make his memories recur in front of his mind's eye. It was a constant stream of memories, sometimes not even linked with the event that happened in the current. And it made it hard for him to focus on the present, especially if the present situation beheld someone else with whom he was supposed to have a coherent conversation with. And he wouldn’t be able to follow along the lines of the conversation, eternally falling and loosing himself in the past whilst storing the present to recur months from them as just another addition to his state as social failure.

And he would try to focus so hard on the present, that people were often uncomfortable under his unwavering gaze, his narrowed dark eyes that sought the current face for clues whilst trying his best not to link it with previous events and meetings. It sometimes made people want to shun away from him, want to leave him on his own so that they didn’t have to cope with his inability to focus on the present.

But that he could vividly recall the past, didn’t mean that his memory was in excellent shape. Due to the constant stream of memories about meetings and events, he found that he had a hard time recalling book knowledge and wisdom. The random facts of subjects and the small little details in a sum up would often just surpass him, rendering his mind to be blank at moments he had to reproduce book knowledge.

He learnt the best if he could practice, and feel the power of it under his fingers. As long as he would be able to link knowledge with a practice-gained past event, he would be able to reproduce it. Otherwise, he would be lost between the lines of the books as his mind continued to rattle in its constant torture.

And even though he had been cursed with his condition, he wasn’t capable to reproduce his whole conscious past, he would never be able to touch the mysteries that engulfed his own heritage. He had never been able to reach back that far and unravel where his roots lay. For all he cared, he had been left at an orphanage as a crying baby, all wrapped up in snug blankets as he had screamed his little lungs out. He had no knowing of a real home, for people came (with the war, more people had come) and departed from the orphanage and he was the odd duckling that sort of stuck. The caregivers couldn’t quite figure out what to do with him, and therefor simply assigned him tasks to perform around the property. It too helped him to calm his mind a bit and focus on something else, staying busy with his hands so that he wouldn’t be able to loose himself in silent and unwanted contemplation about his past.

Even though Waldo had been a stranger to his own past and as to where his roots lay, he had never been stranger to magic growing up in an orphanage for abandoned young wizards and witches, even though he didn't often see it used around him. The letter to Hogwarts hadn't been a surprise, but until this very day, he still isn't quite sure wether he wanted to be noticed like that and placed in an institute where it was harder for him to hide that his mind mulled like an ever going mantra. It was hard to hide when corridors were filled with people with both ill or good will. It was hard to just be, although he had no idea if he should actually refer to his statute of being in the terms of 'was'.

Note: This section is optional, and I choose to complete it.

House Request: I’d love Waldo to be sorted into Hufflepuff, although there might be a slim chance that the sorting hat considers him to be more fit for Gryffindor. I will at least tell you why he really wouldn’t fit into Ravenclaw or Slytherin, before expanding on why he could be in either Hufflepuff or Gryffindor.

Waldo wouldn’t be fit for Ravenclaw because, as I have explained in his biography, tends to live in the past. This translates itself into being able to recall everything he’s ever done in praxis, but he tends to forget everything that he’s once read. Therefor, he tends to shun away from books and the knowledge they hold, discouraged by the fact he wouldn’t be able to reproduce their wisdom anyway. I have considered fact that he really does highly possess the trait of individuality and acceptance of his condition, but I cannot see him fit in here well. This is because he shies away from large bodies of people because he thinks it’s best for them not to be around him, not because he actually likes to be alone. The acceptance of his condition and the terms it comes with would be the only thing that’d render him fit for Ravenclaw house, but I believe this to be a very scarse base.

I also don’t see him fit in well with Slytherin, considering that he lacks the presence of mind to foster all the traits Slytherin values. For example, he can’t be possibly be ambition driven as his view isn’t focused on the future at all - stuck forever in the past as it is. Another example, he doesn’t avoid contact with other people out of self preservation, but rather out of the other person’s preservation. He’s more focused on the greater good than he is on his own. Yet, there would be one very scarse reason for him to be sorted in Slytherin, which is the sole trait of recoursefullness he’d be able to develop. Because he, like no other, is able to learn from the past. But, applying it on the present, considering the future whilst he’s at it, in order to be a grande leader, would ask too much of him.

Waldo would do well in Hufflepuff, for he is willing to work hard for the things he’d like to achieve. He’s better in actually learning things in praxis if he feels like it’d be beneficial to him to nail a certain quality or skill, and he wouldn’t stop trying until he’s mastered it. This also shows his dedication to the things he’s put his mind to, patience until he’d see it accomplished, as well as the quality that he’s unafraid of any toil his tasks might bring him. He is of the belief that people should be dealt with the care and respect they deserve, which he often translates into staying out of other people’s lifes for he oftentimes deems it better for them. When teased out of his shell though and convinced someone might be able to cope with him, he’d prove himself to be a very kind and loyal friend to the best of his abilities.

The last house I’d expand on, is the possibility of him being sorted into Gryffindor. Waldo naturally has a high level of chivalry, allowing him to stand up when really foul play is being conducted. He’s not naturally brave, but he would be in the face of apparant injustice. He perhaps therefor hasn’t the strongest of will, but he’ll at least try to be standfast and keep his ground for as long as he’d possibly can.

Personality: Waldo knows that his undiagnosed Hyperthymesia makes people feel awkward to the degree that they don’t like to spend time with him. It’s therefor that he prefers to distance himself and shies away from grande groups of people, either by pretending to be a chamber plant or hiding behind one.

When, however, someone has the patience to keep up with him and respects the ways Waldo’s mind tends to switch between the past and the presence, making it hard to distinguish the two from one another, he tends to blossom. Small smiles will turn into megawatt Cheshire grins, his gaze of introversion will turn into inquiring and curious extraversion. He will, as far as he is able, focus all his attention on this person to prove himself truly loyal and quite of a goofball.

He is awkward in all aspects, it just depends on which one people dare to touch.

Appearance: Waldo is a lanky youth who’s trying to cope with the fact that his limbs have suddenly grown longer due to puberty, rendering him to accidentally swipe things off the table or kicking someone opposite of him. He currently stands at a height of 6’0” but he will eventually reach the impressive height of 6’2”, which will probably allow him to tower over all of his fellow year mates. However, quite uncomfortable in his own skin and as he’s trying to dodge any social situation, Waldo tries to be invisible by either hunching slightly by angling his shoulders forwards, and angling his head down and thus allowing his hair to cover up his eyes.

A mop of wavy dark brown hair is adorning his head, which’s locks are more often than not sticking out in every direction but the right one like a drunken hedgehog.

He has dark brown eyes similar to a dog’s. They shine with curiosity if he can finally manage to focus on the present and dim the light the past shines on his present. When he’s caught up in the past though, his gaze seems to be introverted as if he is staring into the distance without really seeing anything. It might be therefor that he’s not easily approached, for Waldo uses almost every aspect of his appearance to dodge social occasions.

“Mh, what?”

He had been dwelling on a memory in the past, and therewith he had been simply staring in the distance. That some boy had chosen to walk right there where he had been gazing at without seeing anything, was one thing. But that the boy actually believed that the gaze had actually been focused on him, that was something else completely. Something that Waldo was tempted to call an inflated ego that believed the whole world evolved around him.

Now that his eyes settled on the boy on front of him again, he could finally make out the facial features that the boy had been graced with, and he could make out the undeniable angry disposition that was carved into his features. And he really looked a lot like Waldo’s old friend Justin, not that he was still in touch with Justin, and with the war raging didn’t even know if the older bloke was still alive, but he had always looked angry in such a way it appeared he was about to relieve himself. And that was exactly what the boy that sat in the present, had his face contorted to. Dear Merlin, someone should help him control those facial expressions.

But the boy was still staring at him with an intensity that made him want to squirm, duck under the table, and retie his shoelaces over and over. A blush crept up the boy’s cheeks as he tried to swallow the lump that started to form in his throat. Something was obviously very wrong, but Waldo couldn’t quite remember what had happened so that the boy had turned out to be so angry. And honestly, he really had missed the conversation as his mind had been dwelling on how Miss Temple always folded the laundry in late spring’s evenings. That, she had always done with great care and with the utmost concentration.

It was utterly comforting and soothing to watch the routine of it, allowing his mind to quiet down as the soft warm breeze played with the tangled locks of his messy hair.

His eyes suddenly focused again on the present and recalled fact that indeed, the boy in front of him was angry and probably, Waldo had probably done something wrong to piss him off - although he had no idea what he had done, he supposed that he was naturally good at pissing people off. It had something to do with his eternal day dreaming about past events that had no evident links with the present but just happened to pop up. People often called him absent.

“You were saying?” An awkward and careful toothy grin started to spread on his face as he regarded the boy in front of him with renewed caution.


Please list any characters you have on the site (current and previous): Iggy-fi, Sally Ricardus, Rid, Mr Nutcase & Foxy Loxy. and currently sort of inactive nemo georgson and kai herschel

How did you find us?: Elgoog.

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