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Messages - Richard Hawkins

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E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Richard Hawkins
Gender: Male
Age: 31
Blood Status: Muggleborn, adopted unknowingly into a family at the moment of the time warp.

Education: 
Ilvermorny – House Wampus

Residence:
London, England

Occupation
Applying to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement

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?
The Ministry.

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: 10
  • Divination: 9
  • 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?
Nope.

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
James O Peakes

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
Railroad engineer Stephen and his wife Maisy Morgan had four sons (all blonde-haired and blue-eyed), the middle oldest named Richard being the only one in the family to receive a letter from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Delivering it was the headmaster of the private institution, come to explain what having a wizard son in the family would mean for the rest. A very close-knit Christian community with a tourist stop along the railroad and scenic views at every angle, Lookout Mountain, Georgia had its history changed discreetly that day in the summer of 1931. Its very first magical occupant would be attending a school none of his peers would ever know.

With three No-maj brothers who were excited to hear all the strange stories Rick came home with on breaks, the hardest thing about saying good-bye to them each term was finding more things to get into while he was at school to tell them about later. With no recollection of the time warp, only seventeen and finishing his last year at school. When the second World War broke out in September of 1939, it was all he and his brothers (now with jet black or sandy hair and hazel eyes) could talk about and antics at school were no longer important.

It was a different time in America. Congress, just two years earlier, had passed a revised, more constrained Neutrality Act (1937). The attitudes of the populace later that year (1939), when Japan invaded China, favored the latter; however, President Franklin Roosevelt sought to aid the communist country in various ways that conflicted with the isolationist stance. The next year, in 1940, when the United States failed to send representation to the gathering of world leaders at the Munich Agreement (despite the POTUS’ help in making the conference possible), the country’s reluctance to participate in war time activities reached its peak. Where Czechoslovakia’s and the Germans’ aggressions toward one another escalated, there would be no aid for the Slovaks should fighting break out (as there had been for China).

Everything the brothers were reading, the two younger coming out of school by 1940, was about the war. Manufacturers who had been out of business, or with only a few hundred employees, were gearing up. Hiring. People were starting to migrate, and the boys had talked about heading off to Michigan to work at the Ford plant making airplanes or down to Mobile where a collection of factories was starting to churn out product.

As everyone knows, it wasn’t until Pearl Harbor was attacked by the Japanese in December of 1941 that the USA entered the fray. Finally, the brothers, who were inflamed at the loss of their country’s servicemen in Hawaii, could do something to contribute to the world’s latest crisis. Each of them, including Richard who was then twenty-one, joined the Army before receiving draft letters in the mail. Soon, the lot were off to basic training where they were split into pairs as siblings (adopted or not) sometimes were from larger families.

It was a long, heartbreaking war for the Hawkins family. Two of the brothers, Eddie and Tom, were sent west and ended up in the Philippines, in Manila, under General MacArthur. The Japanese advancement toward and into the city in 1942 sent 80,000 poorly provisioned and supplied troops to the Bataan Peninsula. There, troops began to starve while General MacArthur, despite his blunder in falling back to the peninsula, escaped in the night with his family and left his soldiers there to deal with the consequences alone.

Not long after his leaving, the CO of the resistance on Bataan surrendered to the Japanese, who had promised fair treatment without ever intending to comply. Prisoners of war were marched seven straight days without food or water, and those who survived were the unlucky ones. Neither Tom nor Eddie came home from the South Pacific.

Richard and George were unaware of their brothers’ deaths, their heartbroken father (mother having died in their youths not long after Rick’s adoption from the Christian outreach) unable to share the news while he retained hope that his remaining sons might win through and make it back. It was in correspondence shortly before their departure to France from Britain that the man relayed the news.

Despite their enthusiasm to teach those dirty, murdering Germans to regret allying themselves with the Japanese, Richard could only watch helplessly as George collapsed from a high caliber round to the head before ever touching boot to Omaha beach in Normandy. Others’ chests exploded as the front-loading guard of their LCA dropped into rolling waves, and of the 36 men crammed onto their landing craft only three would get up and over the bank when all was said and done. Most of the 116th Infantry Regiment he belonged to, nearly two hundred men in total, were gone in minutes.

The memories of that day would forever haunt him.

When the war ended four years later, not even his father lived to greet him. The man had died of lung cancer while Richard had been off fighting. Those brothers-in-arms that had been re-baptized under fire with him in the trenches had become as much a piece of him as the three he’d lost. What remained of them went home to their families, entrenched themselves in their towns, and never peeked their heads over the sandbags again.

Richard stayed in the Army another five years, reenlisting as a Sergeant and leaving the military after nearly ten years as a Sergeant First Class. MACUSA (Magical Congress of the USA), upon his release, sent a letter – he was offered a position with the Auror’s office. A position he declined.

He had other plans. There’d been a girl, once upon a time, that he’d shared a dance with in a bar in London. It was high time he went over to see if he could track her, and a second kiss, down and maybe put down some roots if he could convince her to marry him.

Applying to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the British Ministry was a step toward his goal. The only step, right now, that could help him move further away from a painful, illusory past that startled him awake at night even now.


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.

Roleplay Response:
Now, don’t everyone rush over at once, Rick found himself thinking as the  abrupt disappearance of a head in the crowd went unheeded. He’d already begun making his way through the bodies when he heard the distressed vocals send plea to the void, a clarion call to the soldier that the downed survivor a woman in need of assistance.

It may have only been a shoe, but it wasn’t the condition of the emergency that decided the response.

“Excuse me,” the American said again, and again, and again. “Pardon me, fella. Excuse me.”

As he cleared the last robed individual, standing out like a sore thumb in his khaki slacks and fitted white tee (like that was all that make him conspicuous), he witnessed the predicament firsthand and without considering much beyond respecting the woman’s personal space.. bent at his knees in a squat that brought squared, muscular shoulders and chest about eye level unintentionally.

“Allow me to help you, ma’am,” said, already reaching for and cradling both the toe and hind end of the shoe in a pair of strong but gentle hands. Should she object, of course he’d stop. But in this case, hopefully his intentions were known to be the innocent things they were. A small twist, a slight tug. The heel popped free, but was broken.

From his back pocket, where he’d yet to lose any buttock for storing it there, Rick’s wand of apple wood and wampus cat hair core made its British debut.

”Reparo,” the singular spell with appropriate wrist flick. With the stem mending instantly, he’d reseat wand in its customary place and purchase real estate on the woman’s face with a pair of smiling, but concerned, blue eyes.

“How is your ankle, miss? Do you think you can stand?” Hand was hers if she needed the assistance, his smile disarming where it didn’t have to be..
 


OTHER
How did you find us? Google

2
Archived Applications / Richard Hawkins
« on: 29/08/2017 at 04:04 »

E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Richard Hawkins
Gender: Male
Age: 31
Blood Status: Muggleborn

Education: 
Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – House Wampus

Residence:
London, England

Occupation
Applying to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement

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?
The Ministry.

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: 10
  • Divination: 9
  • 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?
Nope.

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
James O Peakes

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
Railroad engineer Stephen Hawkins had four sons, the middle oldest named Richard being the only one in the family to receive a letter from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Delivering it was the headmaster of the private institution, come to explain what having a wizard son in the family would mean for the rest. A very close-knit Christian community with a tourist stop along the railroad and scenic views at every angle, Lookout Mountain, Georgia had its history changed discreetly that day in the summer of 1931. Its very first magical occupant would be attending a school none of his peers would ever know.

With three No-maj brothers who were excited to hear all the strange stories Rick came home with on breaks, the hardest thing about saying good-bye to them each term was finding more things to get into while he was at school to tell them about later. With no recollection of the time warp, only seventeen and finishing his last year at school, when the second World War broke out in September of 1939, it was all he and his brothers could talk about and antics at school were no longer important.

It was a different time in America. Congress, just two years earlier, had passed a revised, more constrained Neutrality Act. When attitudes later that year, when Japan invaded China, favored the latter, however, President Franklin Roosevelt sought to aid the communist country in various ways. The next year when the United States failed to send representation to the gathering of world leaders at the Munich Agreement (despite the POTUS’ help in making the conference possible), the country’s isolationism reached its peak. There would be no help for Czechoslovakia if aggressions between it and Germany continued to escalate.

Everything the brothers were reading, the two younger coming out of school by 1940, was about the war. Manufacturers who had been out of business, or with only a few hundred employees, were gearing up. Hiring. People were starting to migrate, and the boys had talked about heading off to Michigan to work at the Ford plant making airplanes. Or down to Mobile where a collection of factories was starting to churn out product and needed able-bodied workers.

As everyone knows, it wasn’t until Pearl Harbor was attacked by the Japanese in December of 1941 that the USA entered the fray. Finally, the brothers, who were inflamed at the loss of their country’s servicemen in Hawaii, could do something to contribute to the world’s latest crisis. Each of them, including Richard who was then twenty-one, joined the Army before receiving draft letters in the mail. Soon, the lot were off to basic training where they were split into pairs as siblings sometimes were from larger families.

It was a long, heartbreaking war for the Hawkins family. Two of the brothers, Eddie and Tom, were sent west and ended up in the Philippines, in Manila, under General MacArthur. The Japanese advancement toward and into the city in 1942 sent 80,000 poorly provisioned and supplied troops to the Bataan Peninsula. There, troops began to starve while General MacArthur, despite his blunder, escaped in the night with his family.

Not long after his leaving, the CO of the resistance on Bataan surrendered to the Japanese, who had promised fair treatment without ever intending to comply. Prisoners of war were marched seven straight days without food or water, and those who survived were the unlucky ones. Neither Tom nor Eddie came home from the South Pacific.

Richard and George were unaware of their brothers’ deaths for two years, their heartbroken father (mother having died in their youths) unable to share the news while he retained hope that his remaining sons might win through and make it back. It was in correspondence shortly before their departure to Europe that the man relayed the news. Despite their enthusiasm to teach those dirty, murdering Germans to regret allying themselves with the Japs who killed their brothers, Richard could only watch helplessly as George collapsed from a high caliber round to the head before ever touching boot to the beaches of Normandy.

The memories of that day would forever haunt him.

When the war ended four years later, not even his father lived to greet him. The man had died of black lung while Richard had been off fighting. When he’d had no brothers of his own blood left to him, those he’d made in the trenches had become as much a piece of him as the three he’d lost. What remained of those went home to their families, entrenched themselves in their towns, and never peeked their heads over the sandbags again.

Richard stayed in the Army another five years, reenlisting as a Sergeant and leaving the military after nearly ten years as a Sergeant First Class. MACUSA (Magical Congress of the USA), upon his release, sent a letter – he was offered a position with the Auror’s office. A position he declined.

He had other plans. There’d been a girl, once upon a time, that he’d shared a dance with in a bar in London. It was high time he went over to see if he could track her, and a second kiss, down and maybe put down some roots if he could convince her to marry him.

Applying to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the British Ministry was a step toward his goal. The only step, right now, that could help him move further away from a painful, illusory past that startled him awake at night even now.


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.

Roleplay Response:
Now, don’t everyone rush over at once, Rick found himself thinking as the  abrupt disappearance of a head in the crowd went unheeded. He’d already begun making his way through the bodies when he heard the distressed vocals send plea to the void, a clarion call to the soldier that the downed survivor a woman in need of assistance. Sightseeing could wait.

It may have only been a shoe, but it wasn’t the condition of the emergency that decided the response.

“Excuse me,” the American said again, and again, and again. “Pardon me, fella. Excuse me.”

As he cleared the last robed individual, standing out like a sore thumb in his khaki slacks and fitted white tee (like that was all that make him conspicuous), he witnessed the predicament firsthand and without considering much beyond respecting the woman’s personal space.. bent at his knees in a squat that brought squared, muscular shoulders and chest about eye level unintentionally.

“Allow me to help you, ma’am,” said, already reaching for and cradling both the toe and hind end of the shoe in a pair of strong but gentle hands. Should she object, of course he’d stop. But in this case, hopefully his intentions were known to be the innocent things they were. A small twist, a slight tug. The heel popped free, but was broken.

From his back pocket, where he’d yet to lose any buttock for storing it there, Rick’s wand of apple wood and wampus cat hair core made its British debut.

”Reparo,” the singular spell with appropriate wrist flick. With the stem mending instantly, he’d reseat wand in its customary place and purchase real estate on the woman’s face with a pair of smiling, but concerned, blue eyes.

“How is your ankle, miss? Do you think you can stand?” Hand was hers if she needed the assistance, his smile disarming where it didn’t have to be..
 


OTHER
How did you find us? Google

Pages: [1]