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Topics - Lucky Märchen

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→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.

Hi I missed check in and have to resubmit sorry guys let me back in

Name: "Lucky" Märchen

Birthday: May 27th

Hometown: Undredal, Norway

Bloodline: Halfblood

Magical Strength (pick one): Conjuring and Summoning

Magical Weakness (pick one): Divination

Year (pick two): Fifth

Biography:

If anything, his father had a keen enthrallment with the sound of his own voice. For hours, he’d monologue like some grand player from a throne of a battered recliner and Lucky’s brother would absorb every word like some sort of porous clay the gods might mold. War. The old country. Philosophy. These were all topics which meandered in that great booming voice, and Lucky, sitting on the plush carpet cross-legged would spin them in his mind into their exact counterpoints, at length for the fun of it. If a fire would consume the army, let it be met by a fire of like kind. If an eagle stole the last of the epics, let it be his father. If his brother were so keen to follow along in his father’s unending hubris, so be it.

The brothers were, in essence, two shades of their father, one born at midnight and the other at noon. Lucky inherited nothing but the sharp wit of a man who was too cunning to be likeable, and far too inclined to crumble the world in his hands to see what sort of shape he might make of it. His brother took part in all the honor, the glory and strength that had made their father commendable, and pardoned his crimes. When they climbed together in the great oak in the front lawn of their father’s summer abode, Lucky was always the first to the top, parsing apart the fastest route. At the bottom of the trunk, his wolfhound Fenrir would bark, as if he knew that it was some great feat to have the upper hand. When he packed his trunk to leave for Hogwarts the first time, it hurt most to leave Fenrir, and the horses, and his brother, although he only spoke in whispers to the first two. Above all, he strives to be an antithesis—to his family, and to all else which seeks so to define him.


→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.

House Request: Snakes!

→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character. Remember, you can only roleplay your own character's actions, not Evangeline's or Hugh's.

Option 2:

There was a certain ritual to breakfast, from black coffee to a bagel smothered in a thick layer of vulpine plans. Mornings, as awful as they were, presented a time for clear thought about how best to go about the day. Prime time for blocking the halls with stinkbugs and trying to make the girls’ washrooms’ walls transparent wasn’t yet neigh, so Lucky mulled over his options at the table, in an odd silence. The squid. If he could just lure the squid close to shore during the first year’s Herbology lesson, it would probably give them something to remember.

Decided, he set out into the gardens, only to be stopped by the shouts of some irritating pipsqueak. An opportunity. With his hands in his cloak pockets, he wandered over, the expression on his pale face grave.

“No offense,” he started, his voice dripping in mock solemnity. “If your rat was blasted, ain’t he dead?”


→ ABOUT YOU.

Please list any characters you have  on the site (current and previous): Ars Cadwallader et al

How did you find us?: the aliens left me a url

2


Application for Hogwarts School




→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.

Name: "Lucky" Märchen

Birthday: May 27th

Hometown: Undredal, Norway

Bloodline: Halfblood

Magical Strength (pick one): Conjuring and Summoning

Magical Weakness (pick one): Divination

Year (pick two): Fourth, Fifth

Biography:

If anything, his father had a keen enthrallment with the sound of his own voice. For hours, he’d monologue like some grand player from a throne of a battered recliner and Lucky’s brother would absorb every word like some sort of porous clay the gods might mold. War. The old country. Philosophy. These were all topics which meandered in that great booming voice, and Lucky, sitting on the plush carpet cross-legged would spin them in his mind into their exact counterpoints, at length for the fun of it. If a fire would consume the army, let it be met by a fire of like kind. If an eagle stole the last of the epics, let it be his father. If his brother were so keen to follow along in his father’s unending hubris, so be it.

The brothers were, in essence, two shades of their father, one born at midnight and the other at noon. Lucky inherited nothing but the sharp wit of a man who was too cunning to be likeable, and far too inclined to crumble the world in his hands to see what sort of shape he might make of it. His brother took part in all the honor, the glory and strength that had made their father commendable, and pardoned his crimes. When they climbed together in the great oak in the front lawn of their father’s summer abode, Lucky was always the first to the top, parsing apart the fastest route. At the bottom of the trunk, his wolfhound Fenrir would bark, as if he knew that it was some great feat to have the upper hand. When he packed his trunk to leave for Hogwarts the first time, it hurt most to leave Fenrir, and the horses, and his brother, although he only spoke in whispers to the first two. Above all, he strives to be an antithesis—to his family, and to all else which seeks so to define him.


→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.

House Request: Sort me. Probably not anything honest.

→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character. Remember, you can only roleplay your own character's actions, not Evangeline's or Hugh's.

Option 2:

There was a certain ritual to breakfast, from black coffee to a bagel smothered in a thick layer of vulpine plans. Mornings, as awful as they were, presented a time for clear thought about how best to go about the day. Prime time for blocking the halls with stinkbugs and trying to make the girls’ washrooms’ walls transparent wasn’t yet neigh, so Lucky mulled over his options at the table, in an odd silence. The squid. If he could just lure the squid close to shore during the first year’s Herbology lesson, it would probably give them something to remember.

Decided, he set out into the gardens, only to be stopped by the shouts of some irritating pipsqueak. An opportunity. With his hands in his cloak pockets, he wandered over, the expression on his pale face grave.

“No offense,” he started, his voice dripping in mock solemnity. “If your rat was blasted, ain’t he dead?”


→ ABOUT YOU.

Please list any characters you have  on the site (current and previous): Ars Cadwallader et al

How did you find us?: the aliens left me a url

Pages: [1]