Welcome to Hogwarts School :: A Harry Potter RPG! It's 1970!

Posts

This section allows you to view all posts made by this member. Note that you can only see posts made in areas you currently have access to.


Messages - Elias Daymuth

Pages: [1]
1
Archived Applications / Elias Daymuth
« on: 18/04/2018 at 17:04 »


Before you begin, please make sure you have created
an account in your character's full name, and make sure you have read and understand the following:

Site Rules | Magical Rules | Our Rating | FAQ

Should you have any questions, please contact an Administrator.





Application for Hogwarts School




→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.

Name: Elias Daymuth

Birthday: July 5th, 1937

Hometown: Bath, England

Bloodline:
Muggleborn

Magical Strength (pick one):
Divination

Magical Weakness (pick one):
Conjuring & Summoning

Year (pick two): Fifth, Sixth

Biography:
If you are applying to be a first, second, or third year, your biography must be at least one hundred words long.
If you are applying to be a fourth year or above, your biography must be at least three hundred words long.


When one looked at the life of Elias Daymuth, there were many points that could be seen as the beginning of it all. Perhaps it was the summer of 1936, the summer of sun-scorched sidewalks and ripe fruit and the faraway threat of the end of everything that vaguely inspired every casual mistake. Perhaps it was three o'clock in the morning, sweat dripping like hopeless tears, screams of animalistic pain, the cord that fed Elias life for nine months threatening to take it all away. Perhaps it was his first day of school (twisting hands, loose yarn, broken puzzle pieces) or the birth of his sister (he held her in his arms, trembling, as she shrieked her place into this world) or the move across entire oceans or even now: Elias, in uniform, with the magic he grew up around but never really believed coursing thick and steady through his veins.

You see, it was all a matter of perspective. If you had the chance to ask Elias' mother, perhaps, she would laugh her fairy's chime and say something like, "When I felt him in my womb, the feisty little thing, that's where he started, of course." But Elias' sister would say in her typical sarcastically affectionate way,"Obviously, when I was born - did he even have a purpose before me?"

And if you asked Elias himself, well, he wouldn't quite know the answer because there really wasn't one. If you asked Elias himself, he would say something like, "Maybe my life is like the lunar cycle."

But one thing was for certain. Elias' life wasn't like many others.

From even before Ms. Lillia Abella-Daymuth gave birth, she had many premonitions about Elias. Dreams filled to the brim with symbolism and, in her tarot readings, the ace of wands, again and again. Whether not Lillia was truly in possession of psychic gifts was debatable, but she certainly believed she did. And so, when Elias was born, that tiny purple thing, she knew from somewhere deeper than her heart he was something special.

And special he wasn't. At least, not at first. As a child, he was average at most everything he did. Sports were foreign and strange to him, but the arts weren't much better. Truthfully, nothing came very easily to him. Except for clairvoyance. He had an instinctual knack for all things psychic, and Lillia took full advantage of this fact. Starting from when he first learned how to open his mouth and speak, she paraded her mystical son for the world to marvel at.

Lillia was doing her best to maintain a fairly successful psychic business (often taking side jobs when she could), yet as her career furthered, her mental state began rapidly deteriorating by the day.

She became carried away by her fantasies. In her mind, she was not a single mother with two children and an angry landlord. She was not a woman with an exotic look about her that attracted pathetic men to her incense-soaked living room, men that would pay her twenty an hour to do a palm reading in hopes of getting a little more than a psychic reading. In her altered state, she missed much of what happened when these men were in her home.

As Lillia became more disillusioned, her illness overpowered her love for her children. More and more days passed when Elias and his little sister, Cassandra, had nothing to eat and a heating bill to pay and, once again, no rent for the month. They fell deeper and deeper into the trappings of poverty and, suddenly, nothing could get them out.

The last proverbial shoe dropped when the family was evicted. Lillia, in the midst of her psychotic break, was confined to a mental asylum after she did things that would horrify her if she were in her right mind. Elias and Cassandra were without anyone else.

Except, they weren't. Lillia had a sister in America, and abruptly, they were shipped across the world. At this point, Elias was eleven years old and should have received his Hogwarts letter. He was magical, of course, but in the sudden transportation from England to America, he never got his letter. It seemed he was lost to the wizarding community for good.

But, five years later, Elias was found back in England with no explanation.Hogwarts was able to track him down and finally send him his letter. Elias was hardly shocked when he received it, and instead diligently packed his bags, as if about to embark on a quest for answers.


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

House Request: Hufflepuff

Personality:

Growing up in his tumultuous, unstable household, Elias had to learn to be independent and strong starting from when he was very young. He has an almost maternal instinct, and his first thought is always to protect others rather than defend himself. This gives him a reputation of being very dependable and constant, a fact he is quite proud of. He prides himself on being a caretaker - the person everyone goes to with their troubles, and nothing makes him happier than helping others and feeling useful. He is always selfless and generous. While this is one of his best attributes, it is also where his greatest flaws lie.

His basic fear is that he is unlovable. This stems from a childhood of neglect and something deeper within him that constantly badgers the idea in his head that he is unworthy. Because of this fear, Elias obsesses over being wanted and loved. Therefore, he struggles with anxiety issues that sometimes keep him from going about his life properly. He has a lot of trouble recognizing that he has his own needs that need to be addressed and worked on because he is always fixated on solving the problems of everyone else.

Even though he is not particularly gifted in the arts, he loves painting and uses it as his creative outlet. He is also an avid listener of music and always dances (albeit awfully) like no one is watching.

At his heart, Elias is a helper. He is most happy when others around him are happy, and he would give his everything and more to do just that.

Appearance:

Elias is tall and slender with pale skin that burns quite easily. His dark curls and brows are unruly on the best of days. Strangely enough, his hands are often said to be his best feature - long, agile fingers; like those belonging to a pianist. His personal style is casual and comfy, meaning sweaters and t-shirts are a big part of his wardrobe. As an avid artist, his clothes are often spattered with some form of painting medium. He is attractive, but perhaps less conventionally so, with a more delicate look about his features.


→ 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:

That rat of his was in for it now.

The gray little rascal had disappeared from his clutches at breakfast. Again.

Before Hugh even knew what was happening, Merlin had shot across the floor, somehow managing to avoid all the feet walking across the hall and had escaped through the open doors.

Which meant that Hugh was now stomping through rows of flowers and other various flora, searching for the small creature. It was like the rat knew Hugh was allergic to most flowers. Merlin always chose to run to the gardens whenever he got away from Hugh. It was as if the rat did not want to have him for an owner.

Hugh had named his pet Merlin because he had hoped the powerful name would give the rat more incentive to be more than a rat. Not that he expected Merlin to change into a wizard or anything, but rats were just so...useless, for the most part. With a name like Merlin, Hugh thought it might give the rat purpose.

The only purpose Merlin seemed to have was getting away from Hugh as often as possible.

As the fifth year trudged into the second row of flowers, not taking much care to avoid trampling the first row, he felt the first sneeze building up pressure in his nose and behind his eyes.

"You blasted rat! Where are you?"

He pulled apart a section of bright red flowers; he didn't know what they were called because he despised flowers, and ducked his head low to peer into the depths of the flowerbed. It was moving closer in proximity to the flowers that finally did it. Hugh took in three great breaths and then let out an almighty sneeze. It was strong enough to disturb some of the dirt on the ground before him.

Groaning, he stood up again and wiped his nose on his sleeve. It was as he was turning his head, his nose running up and down his arm, that movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Normally one who preferred to put his best face forward, Hugh was a bit embarrassed to be caught wiping his runny nose on his robes.

Nevertheless, Hugh put on his best haughty voice. albeit a bit thickly with his plugged nose and said, "Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare."

~

Elias sat, cross-legged on the dirt. He had his sketchbook open in front of him, a drawing pen in hand, and beautiful red poppies as his faithful subject. He was trying to improve his sketching skills, but having a pen in hand was even more uncomfortable than trying to draw with quills. The weight was so different compared to paint brushes; so much heavier, and restricting, too. But he could only get better with more practice, so practice he did.

When he drew, Elias had to enter the zone or else he would get distracted by everything. So it was only when the sounds of scuffling and struggle were literally a handful of yards away that he looked up.

It was a boy, head buried in a flower bed just in front of him. His nose was running and he looked dreadful. Elias winced in sympathy.

"Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare."

Elias blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare. It's, uh..." he trailed off, then swiped his thumb under his own nose. "You've got something, there." He quickly yanked open his bag and pulled out a handkerchief (he always had extras: spring was ripe in the air, and it seemed like everyone but him had allergies). "Here, use this. Are you looking for something? I'd be happy to help."


→ ABOUT YOU.

Please list any characters you have  on the site (current and previous): None

How did you find us?: From Google

Pages: [1]