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Messages - Perseus Alexander Paladin

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Elsewhere Accepted / Persy Paladin - Durmstrang Teen
« on: 07/04/2015 at 03:52 »
E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name:  Perseus AlexanderPaladin

Gender: Male

Age: 15 - born 1 September 1929

Bloodline:
Pureblood

Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): 
Arabella and  Xavier Paladin - NPC
Siblings: Silvus (Guardian), Paris and Pacifica, Tiberius
Cousins: Aries, Zephyrus, Icarus-- etc.

Residence:
Durmstrang Institute
Residence of Aries Paladin

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?
Not really-- perhaps Durmstrang?

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:
Dacian E-L, Cat Severin, Flora BC, et al.

Biography: (100 words minimum.)

Honestly.

“If you knew anything about Quidditch, then you’d know that the Harpies were down and out for the season. Cambridge trampled them last--”

“I don’t care if they were.”

“What?!”

“I said, I don’t care.”

Honestly. 

He wouldn’t try to fight it anymore. There was just nothing he could do. Persy didn’t even know they allowed girls at Durmstrang before he went there, and frankly wouldn’t have cared, had all of them not been so annoyingly complacent to him. All of them-- literally, all of them-- pinched his cheeks, cooing about how cute his round cheeks were. And when they weren’t doing that, they ignored him. The boys weren’t much better, but at least they played games with him.

The one girl who would talk to him was called Marta, and she didn’t like Quidditch. It was stupid. He’d have rather gone to Hogwarts with Tiberius and Paris and Cissy, and be sorted into a real House and play real Quidditch without having to worry about snow getting in his damned eyes, or casting warming spells on his fingers every thirty seconds because of the cold-- Persy didn’t like Durmstrang much at all, but he would never tell his family so. They’d had their reasons for sending him, and Persy understood that; he’d thought he wanted to go before he was due to start school because of the school’s reputation for the Dark Arts, and which little boy doesn’t dream about that kind of power?--

--but he’d learned quickly that it was all discipline and snow and fur-lined everything, lessons and coursework in the fortress they called a castle. And the Dark Arts courses were only for approved upper years, so Persy hadn’t even gotten a chance yet.

He’d lied to Tiberius, though, and told him that he’d already learned tons of dark magic, he just wasn’t allowed to show him in case the English Ministry found out. It was illegal on two whole levels-- dark underage magic sounded very impressive indeed.

Persy was ecstatic to come back to Britain for the summer holiday: he’d been marking off days on his bedside calendar by singing each day’s square with the tip of his wand-- on the last day of term he’d set the whole calendar on fire and threw it into one of the last-lingering snowbanks, in triumph.

Persy would be going to summer camp that year. No more warming charms for him-- not for a few months, anyway.

Roleplay:
Reply as your character to the following:

Godric Park.

Overhead, the sky was a crisp blue, for once clear of the ever-pervasive spongy clouds and rain. The sun was a lemony-yellow presence, high in the Eastern sky, and in front of it zipped three broomsticks in a straight line, or something very like one. One... two..... three... the boys passed, their shouts of excitement echoing as they chased the snitch, a tiny shimmer reflecting the sunlight.

Far below was another, much smaller broomstick.

It trugged along the ground, hugging close to it like a sluggish choo choo train and occasionally shuttering in protest. This was because said stick was currently being occupied by a very small girl who was tugging upward on the front of it with all her might, trying to coax it into doing what it had been expressly designed NOT to do.

"John, I said wait up!" The tiny girl squealed, giving the broomstick another tug.

Begrudgingly, it drifted upward a foot, and then sank, depositing the troublesome girl safely on the ground. Janey Hurst was not pleased. In a huff, she hopped off the toy safety broom, grabbing it firmly and thrusting it handle first into the turf.

Her brother was such a beast. He NEVER let her play! She folded her arms, seething blue eyes fixing on another figure nearby.  "You!" She barked, much more sharply than she meant to.

"...Do you want to play?"

Roleplay Response:

He didn't usually read. Persy was usually too busy for that: there were brooms to fly and walks to take and sometimes also homework, but he didn’t need to do that now. He was reading.

Or at least was pretending to. Sitting outdoors in a park was a good way to get out of the house while his siblings rampaged about, focused on whatever issue of the day (sometimes decor, sometimes fashion, sometimes each other). Persy often enthusiastically joined in, because it was easy, but he’d woken up with a dull, pulsing headache and wanted fresh air.

He’d shut the book awhile ago, and let it rest in his lap as he sat on his bench, head tilted slightly, staring out into blank space. Somewhere nearby a mass of kids were flying around, playing their juvenile Quidditch and running into one another-- maybe Persy would have joined them, but he knew he would have tipped the scales too much. He was, after all, older and no doubt better.

Of course.

“... Do you want to play?”

Persy started a little more violently than he’d intended, then looked down at the interruption.

“Do I want to what?!”

OTHER
How did you find us? Google, I guess. that was eighty years ago. I can still remember the smell of fresh paint.

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