Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

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→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.

Name: Devendra Devarajah

Birthday: 28 June

Hometown: Kolkata, India

Bloodline: Halfblood

Magical Strength (pick one): Divination

Magical Weakness (pick one): Charms

Year (pick two): 2 or 1

Biography:
He wore the moon for a crown.

With his neck stretched straight and his chin held high, he could catch it on his forehead, between the leaves. It rested in his hair; it sparkled among the waves, illuminated. The night’s silver grin made him  queen.

He wore the moon for a crown until it shattered through the fountain, usurped by the tides of Ashwini’s massive paws.

The tiger took her child by an urging at his side, her shoulders slipped beneath a sky-light arm. in a silent command not to follow but keep up. He did, despite knowing where she’d been asked to take him. Suddenly conscious of his body in space, he adjusted his mother’s holiday jamdani around his shoulders, wrapped it tightly around his wrists.

She said nothing aloud when they met her in the house, in her open, gaudy rooms, as was her way. Her nod was enough for a greeting, her smile assuaging doubt as well as confirming it. A voice in his head, and nowhere at all, spoke in silence above the big cat’s purr. It was to be their last night together in Kolkata; Father would see him off on the train at dawn.

Devi had asked the stars and the calendars, the cards and the bones. He had begged of the Gods in the garden pools, with incense, rice, and with stolen coins. This was always what happened when the money ran out.

He took a breath and a handful of fur. He bowed his head. The night still glittered with its diamonds in his hair.

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.

House Request: Hat’s choice!

Personality:
Though he prefers to spend time in his head living his own dreams and fantasies, Devi works to keep quite the grasp on earthly life. He has been called a brat for being rather demanding that his tastes are satisfied by his surroundings, clothes, and comforts, but the truth is that he simply wishes his realities to correspond; he dreams so vividly of beautiful things, why should not waking life be exactly the same? Maybe he’d spend more time there if it were. He’s certain his parents would rather that— and Devi does stay keenly abreast of whatever he thinks it is they expect of him. It helps him get away with all the fantasies apart from it.

Devi is deeply concerned with astrology, numerology, and dream interpretation, and he lets divination determine many of his real-life choices… assuming he doesn’t want to make them for himself. He’s likely to make excuses based on the phase of the moon and the letters in someone’s name just as much as he is to commit to lifelong decisions.

Appearance:
Dark features are complemented by the brightly colored clothes Devi chooses out of uniform, usually jewel tones, often traditional for the region of eastern India where he grew up. He mixes masculine and feminine fashion, and is often seen in jewelry and henna decoration on his hands usually considered women’s styles. When he dresses more typically for his age and location, it is often still accompanied by a large amount of accessories and jewelry.

He is a little shorter than the average boys of his age group. This won’t last long and he knows it. Devi carries himself like an older person than he is, and somewhat delicately. It can come across as somewhat odd throughout his youth, but it doesn’t seem unnatural, and it’s quite clear he’ll eventually grow into it.

→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
Option I:

It would be just fine, his father said. Two generations of Devarajahs had attended this school, and the prestige had always been worth the homesickness. Homesickness, his father said, as if the man had not grown up here. Fine, as if he cared. It was unlike the man to be wrong, but there was a first time for everything.

Or a second. He had just lost all their investments, hadn’t he?

Devi might have kicked the dirt if there had been dirt to kick. He might have tried to read in the cloud of air and earth for an answer or a warning or the image of a future he could not see for himself. There was nothing but stone and damp here, unless he counted the cold. Fine, as if he wouldn’t freeze. The ugly robe was an animal fur in that moment, and he plunged his fists into pockets his mind made warm. He ignored the shiver of his legs. A tiger was never cold. But they didn’t kick dirt or live in Scottish castles either. And they certainly didn’t get lost when they wandered off to mope.

The echo of a girl’s voice shook him out of his thoughts. The shiver then was not of cold but of nerves, the freezing then of momentary fear— not for that of disembodied voices (his mother’s elusive shadow), but of finding himself in trouble for his stupidity, or negligence, he couldn’t quite tell which. But the voice sounded as young as his own. What were the chances that someone intended to trick him?

“Probably not,” he answered cautiously into the hall. “I haven’t seen anyone else down here.” Not even you. “Where are you?”

→ ABOUT YOU.

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