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Archived Applications / Freja Skov : Divination
« on: 03/04/2015 at 06:55 »


CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character name: Freja Skov

Previous and/or Current Character(s) if applicable: Literalis Bukovsky, Sergio Melachontes, etc

Character age: 22

Character education: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Head Girl, Gryffindor, graduating class of 1940

Strength and weaknesses (details please): Freja’s magical strengths tend to draw from her interest in the more obscure magical disciplines and ingredients of the mind or body, which allow her to connect to magic more directly in a (from a Muggle perspective) more mystical fashion - like Divination and potions. Deepened by both her Muggle childhood and her pagan faith, she naturally gravitates towards non magical solutions for physical tasks as a first resort, with magic being more of a metaphysical connection to existence instead of being a witchly way of achieving minor busywork. Because of this, Freja is likely weaker than others her age at spellwork that requires high level wand usage for complex tasks. More generally, she has a formidable will and endurance to physical hardship but finds it difficult to morally/emotionally see issues in a way that she doesn’t already see them.

Physical description: Standing at 5’11” (180cm), Freja makes her focus on physical activity very clear. Wide shoulders and long arms have been sculpted into firm muscle by regular workouts and her hands bear the unmistakeable signs of getting thoroughly worked. Long, pale golden hair frames a face that can express a hardened stoic wall, or can welcome and reassure with a glowing smile. Her clothing leans more towards practicality than luxury or labels. While not averse to formal wear for formal occasions, Freja’s usual lifestyle and mentality steers her fashion to a kind of rustic charm that doesn’t have the need or patience for accessories simply for accessories’ sake.

Personality (nice, rude, funny etc. Paragraph please.): Surface mood changes depending on location and company but Freja Skov is generally a serious person who thoroughly enjoys being alive. She is passionately supportive of friends and passionately derisive of enemies, with an expectation that others be equally as committed to such honesty in their personal politics. While she has no respect for those who are disingenuous, however, she is willing to forgive any regretted mistake. As a born explorer and doer, Freja also has an almost photosynthesis need for regular time outdoors, surrounded by fresh air, dirt, leaves, bark, and all the sounds and smells of the natural world. She is a lover, a fighter and a mystic, who feels that all three qualities are equally important to her being.

Hopes and dreams. Why are you teaching at Hogwarts?: For herself, Freja is searching for a fresh start. A kind of do-over before the aimlessness of her post-graduation life cements too firmly. It would also be a kind of return to home; a home (with a Gryffindor house especially) that had helped her to define herself growing up. The dream, for Freja, would be an ability to help make Hogwarts castle the kind of home for new students that it was for her. She believes in education, and that the act of learning is more than simply hearing information but is also helping to form a person’s mental and moral character.

Biography (500 words minimum. There is never such a thing as too much.):
"Skov"; It meant "forest" in Danish, Freja's native language. Most names that Freja had known were personally meaningless words; legal labels, simply given in order to have something to call a person by. This was not the case for Freja. "Skov" was perfect for Freja. "Skov" was Freja. From a very young age, she had learned to love the outdoors, and the calm and strength of trees especially. She would open her mouth and inhale deeply, drawing air in to rush over her lips and tongue, drying them, before filling her stomach and bloating it like a chilled pump. She revelled in the abrasive rub of tree bark against her hands while swinging from branches, her ears always alert for the crunching sound of a weak limb, which would lead to the whip-crack as it broke if her weight was still on it. She never minded the pain if she did fall. Her nostrils would breathe in and snort like an animal in the cold, smelling the growing ramsons and the earth near her old home. Her "old home". Which meant "not home anymore".

Freja emigrated with her parents to Britain, transferring to Hogwarts for her fourth year, before the timewarp reshaped her life forever. As a Muggleborn within the castle, the sudden chronological event swiftly stole the young girl from all semblance of known family by half a lifetime’s worth of decades. As environments and memories adjusted with the change, Hogwarts castle became Freja’s home and Gryffindor house her family.

A regular sight on the Quidditch field on the duelling circuit, her life settled into one of normality. She was a student more inclined to over-achievement when holding a Beater’s bat than in the classroom. In the halls, and assorted corners, she spent time mentally and/or verbally arguing against the political climate that saw a Muggleborn identification badge on her clothes. Frustrations of the time were largely soothed by the internal promise of battles to come; of glorious fights in future that would solve everything – under the name Freja Skov.

With no family savings to rely on, she began working a summer job in Hogsmeade at a shop owned by Wesley Winsday.

After becoming a Prefect and Head Girl (an interesting turn of events, particularly alongside her lifestyle antithesis Aries Paladin), Freja graduated from Hogwarts in 1940 and, with Ministerial laws limiting her employment options, the young Skov moved into Hogsmeade full time to work in a local tavern. She consistently had a roof over her head and friends, like Cedric, were never far away in the village. The glorious battles that she’d always believed would come, however, never arrived. The enemy became the unpunchable form of faceless restrictions. All of the dreams of mythic levels of daring gave way to mundane poverty. And all of the fiercely grand accomplishments turned out to be bar fights with rowdy customers and alley fights for extra Galleons.

Surely it wasn’t supposed to be that way. Surely she hadn’t been wrong all those years.

Surely, Freja Skov was made for something larger than herself.

SAMPLE ROLEPLAY
(Please respond to to this in third person past tense. Do not write the other characters' reactions. Only your own.)

It was the largest office in Hogwarts and, perhaps to students and newcomers, the most intimidating. The shelves were filled with various odds and ends, with a place of honor for the Sorting Hat, and the walls held all the portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses.

In the middle of the room sat a large desk. Everything was in order, for the current occupant had always despised a messy desk. It was the sign of a messy mind, and she had always favored neatness.

A clock sat on the desk, which currently showed the time to be 2:05. The meeting was supposed to begin at 2:00 precisely.

Along with order, Anneka valued punctuality. She was a very busy woman these days. Even during the summer, she had a number of matters to attend to. Interviewing and hiring staff was only of those matters. The newest potential member of her staff wasn't making a good impression.

She paced the room, black heels clicking against the stone floor. When the door finally opened, Anneka turned, her expression reminiscent of a Russian winter. "You are late."

Explain yourself was what her face said.

Roleplay Response:

There were times when an adult would, by happenstance, come across the house in which they’d grown up as a child and ask the current owner if they could revisit all of the familiar corners inside. See the space where your single bed had once stood; where your younger brother peed on the rug as a toddler; or where your mother sat and cried when you told her you were moving out.

Freja Skov imagined that such a thing must have felt very similar to where she’d found herself. Stepping back inside Hogwarts castle might have been described as being like entering a ghost town, but the truth was actually the reverse. The warm stone walls released warm breath as magic from over nine centuries coursed through mortar veins.

The castle was alive. It was Freja who was the ghost.

See the very seats in the Main Hall where three fresh Gryffindors first met at their first dinner in the castle; the space she had been standing in the corridor near the dungeons where she’d punched Seamus in the face; or the tree in the garden that a hundred breakups had occurred under.

Feel the anxiety that Freja hadn’t felt within Hogwarts’ walls since the meeting that finalised her transfer there.

She grabbed the handle of the Headmistress’ office door firmly and entered with long strides.

”You are late."

Ms. Ivanova’s expression, more than just a statement of her interviewee’s tardiness, seemed a very clear prompt for elaboration. Freja Skov, however, had never felt much inclined to explain herself to anyone. She was late though, and would accept any of her interviewer’s rightful criticism of that fact without argument. Pride or no pride, truth was truth. She would just have to make herself worth the wait.

“I’m sorry that I’m late,” Freja said honestly. “I hope I haven’t hurt your schedule too much.”

2
Archived Applications / Freja Skov
« on: 29/07/2012 at 11:31 »


Application for Hogwarts School



→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.


Name:
Freja Skov

Birthday: March 12th, 1960

Hometown: West Kensington. Recently immigrated with family to England from Denmark.

Bloodline: Muggleborn

Magical Strength (pick one): Divination

Magical Weakness (pick one):  Transfiguration

Year (pick two): 4th. Or 5th, if need be.

Biography:
"Skov"; It meant "forest" in Danish, Freja's native language. Most names that Freja had known were personally meaningless words; legal labels, simply given in order to have something to call a person by. This was not the case for Freja. "Skov" was perfect for Freja. "Skov" was Freja. From a very young age, she had learned to love the outdoors, and the calm and strength of trees especially. She would open her mouth and inhale deeply, drawing air in to rush over her lips and tongue, drying them, before filling her stomach and bloating it like a chilled pump. She revelled in the abrasive rub of tree bark against her hands while swinging from branches, her ears always alert for the crunching sound of a weak limb, which would lead to the whip-crack as it broke if her weight was still on it. She never minded the pain if she did fall. Her nostrils would breathe in and snort like an animal in the cold, smelling the growing ramsons and the earth at Riis Skov, a favourite place to visit near her old home. Her "old home". Which meant "not home anymore".

Her early love of nature and solitude was only strengthened by Freja's sense that almost all other children hated her. They hated her for being tall for her age, they hated her for her stubbornness and, most of all, they appeared to hate her for never crying about what they did or said to her. Both Freja's parents and her school were quick to insist that the school children should learn English for the future. The process felt slow and senseless to Freja. The language rarely made sense and, just when it began to, it suddenly broke its own rules anyway. But, without any friends or siblings, there was not much else for Freja to do. So, stubbornly, she poured her attention into English language fiction. To help with learning, her father collected a number of old American Wonder Woman comic books, which Freja quickly became absorbed in, even on the occasions when she had no idea what any of the printed words said. She fashioned herself in her imagination as a growing warrior: a calm, adventure seeking figure, capable of the tranquil fury of an unearthed forest creature. Drawn in to these worlds and characters, Freja never bothered to learn more than a conversational understanding of the English language; just enough to read - and re-read - the stories she enjoyed.

Conversations within her Muggle family were often fuelled by Cold War politics and questions: the nature of enemies, the fear of fighting them and the glamour of those who did. As she grew, surrounded by the topic of the age and her adventure pulps, Freja developed a view of the world that largely allowed her to define herself simply by the things she opposed and refused, with little sense of her own independent personality separate from anything else. She began to see her slender build and height as a strength, and grew to prefer the company of people like herself; strong-minded people, seeking out athleticism and play fights – acts with the potential to bring pain or injury – for the sake of growth. However, she also drew the attention and dislike of people who seemed to believe that Freja’s worst behaviour was too lost in her own fantasies of black-and-white morality heroism, and that perhaps she wasn’t always aware enough that she existed in reality, not a story, that could have conclusive consequences. Despite this, she developed into a wilful but warm personality, eager to welcome and care for companions with all of her attention.

Gokstad Academy admitted young Freja into its halls when she reached the age of magical education. She took to the revelation that magic and magic users existed with enthusiasm. It was adventure, mythology and fairytale all coming true. However, with her family's recent decision to emigrate from Denmark to England; to emigrate from "not home anymore", Freja's parents hoped she may transfer to Hogwarts. Her ignored lessons in English suddenly relevant, Freja Skov rushed to increase her proficiency with the language, proud of her thick accent but terrified of it defining her new life. Though she would never let anyone know this fear existed.


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


House Request:
Hufflepuff. Or Gryffindor, if that can't be done.

Personality: Freja is confident and boastful but not conceited, reclusive but not exclusionary, and critical but also readily complimentary. A very physically focused witch, Freja is more interested in non wand-based magics of the mind and body, or of magical objects/plants/beings than of wand casting types, and is generally more inclined to Muggle brawling than duelling. She is also stubborn and certain of the rightness of her own thoughts and behaviour, quickly becoming impatient with indecision in others. This quality can make her a capable leader or guide for others, though, at the same time, can also cause people to instantly want to avoid her for her unapologetic directness. Despite her solitary habits, Freja does blossom with friends around, tending to subconsciously slip into the role of the group’s patron guardian. When such friendships are made, she holds them as nearly unbreakable and they instantly become top priority for her efforts and attention. In the event of being hurt by a person’s words or actions, Freja does not require long apologies or favours to make up for anything. As long as the injurer recognises the effect of their actions and displays regret, Freja will forgive and forget at once without any hint of a grudge. However, if a person were to hurt someone, not herself, that she cares for very deeply, then Freja’s forgiveness will prove difficult – perhaps even impossible – to find.

Appearance: Straight strawberry-blonde hair of a length down to her shoulder blades, sea blue coloured eyes, and soft but angular facial features. Freja has wide, square, shoulders; she is tall (5’8”/179cm) but athletic enough to not appear gangly; she is fit but slender and not overtly muscular looking. Her expression could usually best be described as a “poker face” for most of the time, although it will vividly come to life when she is incredibly happy or angry.


→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
Please reply to one of the Sample Roleplays below.

Option I:

Blimey, the Great Hall was packed. It seemed like everywhere a guy looked there was some clown waving around a House banner or yelling about the game. 'Can you believe it?' 'No way!' 'This must be the biggest upset in Hogwarts Quidditch history...'

Stupid Quidditch.

James flopped into an empty seat at the end of the table, shoved an empty plate out of the way, and let his head sink onto his crossed arms, squishing his freckled nose down flat against the tabletop. He wasn't sure why he'd even bothered to come here, since he definitely wasn't hungry. He'd probably never eat again, in fact. He didn't deserve to eat. He hadn't stopped in the locker room to change out of his muddy, sweaty uniform after the game either, because he was pretty sure he probably didn't deserve to be clean too; and anyway he couldn't stand to see the looks on his team mates' faces after he blew their chance at winning one of the biggest games they had ever played.

Just one lousy shot. That's all it would have taken. If he could have just got that one stupid foul shot to go through that one stupid hoop, they could have won and he wouldn't have been the biggest blockhead in the entire school.

As if to prove the point, half the people at the next table suddenly broke into a loud victory chant. James pressed his face further into his arms to hide the bright red blotches he could feel creeping up his cheeks. That was it. He was just going to have to run away and move to Nova Scotia. He'd just cost the three-year-in-a-row Champions the Quidditch Cup! How do you ever live that one down for crying out loud? He was only a second year and he was going to spend the rest of his life as 'that dumb cry-baby kid who dropped the Quaffle!'

It felt like every set of eyes in the room was boring into him, and James couldn't stand it anymore. He jerked himself back up from the table and stomped right back out of the Hall the same way he had come in. As he stormed into the quieter hallway outside, he could hear footsteps somewhere behind him. James rounded on the sound and began to shout, his brown eyes shining with tears. "WHAT! Haven't you ever seen a loser before? Why don't you just take a picture!"



Sample Roleplay Response:
Freja Skov raised her arm and held her bicep over her mouth to smother a cough while she slowed from a jog to a quick walk, heading under the arch of one of the castle entrances. She shook her wet hair lightly, like a dog just returned home, and tried to work some warmth back into her fingers. A quick run on the grounds alone between Quidditch and a fresh meal, in the company of only the quiet rain, was a welcome distraction. As soon as she entered the castle, Freja could smell the food laid out across the Great Hall’s tables; her stomach rising to the gastronomic call to arms. And Freja was an eager two-fisted eater.

But her stomach would have to wait until she’d had a quick shower to warm her skin. She paused silently for a young boy coming out through the Hall’s large doorway before continuing on behind him down the passageway, slowing her breathing and hoping to be back before the meal was half over. Out of nowhere, the boy in front of her turned around and yelled at Freja’s face.

"WHAT! Haven't you ever seen a loser before? Why don't you just take a picture!"

Freja stared at the boy. He was a complete stranger to her but something about him seemed familiar. What was his name? Jacob? Joshua? Jerk? Thick tears had begun to stream down his cheeks as he stood there, everything in his body displaying a defensive but self-loathing anger to Freja’s eyes. Suddenly she realised who he was. That kid who’d dropped the Quaffle. And now he was simply standing there and crying about it. Freja had to admit that his description of himself was not entirely inaccurate, given the circumstances. He also looked to be very young, though, and – to Freja’s perceptions – such people didn’t often understand what did or did not cause them to fit that description.

“Yes, I have seen a loser,” she said in her thick accent. “Many people who are not Freja Skov are losers. But you are making mistakes to think that an accident will make you this word. You are letting this mistake be all you are. Doing this does make you a loser. It will make you lose again and again. This mistake is nothing to do with you and me, or you and anyone else in this castle. We are nothing in this. You have a name that is not ‘loser’; that name is to do with you and everyone else.”

Freja extended her arms and made her hands into half fists, as if holding an invisible object. “But your mistake is only between you and the Quaffle. Next time, you will hold it. You will not let it go because it will laugh at you if you do. If you do all that you can, always, to keep this Quaffle from laughing then you are not any loser. No matter what sounds any human makes.”

Putting her hand on the boy’s shoulder, Freja patted him roughly before walking on to have her shower. “And do not cry," she added. "Eat instead.”


→ ABOUT YOU.

Previous Characters (if applicable):

How did you find us?: Google


3
Elsewhere Accepted / Freja Skov
« on: 28/06/2012 at 14:19 »


CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character Name: Freja Skov

Gender: Female

Age: 14

Education: Previously at Gokstad Academy, hoping to transfer to Hogwarts to begin there next term.

Residence: West Kensington. Recently immigrated with family to England from Denmark

Occupation: Student

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (example St Mungo's, the Ministry, Shrieking Shack) or to take over an existing shop in need of new management?: No

Requested Magic Levels:
  • Charms: 4
  • Transfiguration: 3
  • Divination: 5
  • Summoning: 4
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?: No, thanks

Please list any other characters you already have at the site: None

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
"Skov"; It meant "forest" in Danish, Freja's native language. Most names that Freja had known were personally meaningless words; legal labels, simply given in order to have something to call a person by. This was not the case for Freja. "Skov" was perfect for Freja. "Skov" was Freja. From a very young age, she had learned to love the outdoors, and the calm and strength of trees especially. She would open her mouth and inhale deeply, drawing air in to rush over her lips and tongue, drying them, before filling her stomach and bloating it like a chilled pump. She revelled in the abrasive rub of tree bark against her hands while swinging from branches, her ears always alert for the crunching sound of a weak limb, which would lead to the whip-crack as it broke if her weight was still on it. She never minded the pain if she did fall. Her nostrils would breathe in and snort like an animal in the cold, smelling the growing ramsons and the earth at Riis Skov, a favourite place to visit near her old home. Her "old home". Which meant "not home anymore".

Her early love of nature and solitude was only strengthened by Freja's sense that almost all other children hated her. They hated her for being tall for her age, they hated her for her stubbornness and, most of all, they appeared to hate her for never crying about what they did or said to her. Both Freja's parents and her school were quick to insist that the school children should learn English for the future. The process felt slow and senseless to Freja. The language rarely made sense and, just when it began to, it suddenly broke its own rules anyway. But, without any friends or siblings, there was not much else for Freja to do. So, stubbornly, she poured her attention into English language fiction. To help with learning, her father collected a number of old American Wonder Woman comic books, which Freja quickly became absorbed in, even on the occasions when she had no idea what any of the printed words said. She fashioned herself in her imagination as a growing warrior: a calm, adventure seeking figure, capable of the tranquil fury of an unearthed forest creature. Drawn in to these worlds and characters, Freja never bothered to learn more than a conversational understanding of the English language; just enough to read - and re-read - the stories she enjoyed.

Conversations within her Muggle family were often fuelled by Cold War politics and questions: the nature of enemies, the fear of fighting them and the glamour of those who did. As she grew, surrounded by the topic of the age and her adventure pulps, Freja developed a view of the world that largely allowed her to define herself simply by the things she opposed and refused, with little sense of her own independent personality separate from anything else. She began to see her slender build and height as a strength, and grew to prefer the company of people like herself; strong-minded people, seeking out athleticism and play fights – acts with the potential to bring pain or injury – for the sake of growth. However, she also drew the attention and dislike of people who seemed to believe that Freja’s worst behaviour was too lost in her own fantasies of black-and-white morality heroism, and that perhaps she wasn’t always aware enough that she existed in reality, not a story, that could have conclusive consequences. Despite this, she developed into a wilful but warm personality, eager to welcome and care for companions with all of her attention.

Gokstad Academy admitted young Freja into its halls when she reached the age of magical education. She took to the revelation that magic and magic users existed with enthusiasm. It was adventure, mythology and fairytale all coming true. However, with her family's recent decision to emigrate from Denmark to England; to emigrate from "not home anymore", Freja's parents hoped she may transfer to Hogwarts. Her ignored lessons in English suddenly relevant, Freja Skov rushed to increase her proficiency with the language, proud of her thick accent but terrified of it defining her new life. Though she would never let anyone know this fear existed.



Roleplay:
Reply as your character to the following:

It was impossible for Dianne to stay out of trouble. It wasn't that she was looking for trouble, it's just that trouble always managed to find her. Today she wished she could find something equally familiar but more comforting.

The five-year old girl hugged her puffskein closer to her and brushed her face in its soft fur for comfort. She had named him herself and he was always her special pet. No she was certain she had never gone down this side street before. Her anxiety increased every second as darkness fell as she walked down the road. A loud noise came to her left and she buried her face in her pet's fur completely. The scared girl bolted the opposite way slamming the both of them into the wall of the nearest building. Tottering back a few steps she found a door a few feet to her right and ran to open it. What light there was inside spilled out into the darkness and she spilled into the room.

Once in, she was caught between the impulse to curl her cloak up more tightly around her and loosen her grip on it. She wasn't alone anymore but she was now among strangers instead, which was nearly as terrifying. Her puffskein had recovered from the shock of the wall and now was purring contentedly as the girl hugged it, causing a mildly calming effect on the girl. Gathering her courage, she marched up to the nearest person, pulled on the nearest clothing hem and blurted out in a loud voice:

"I'm lost and it's dark and I wanted to know where I am but I'm not scared but I am worried that Sambundeakin is scared because he's little and needs something to eat and wants to go home."

She paused to draw a breath in her nearly never-ending sentence, "He misses my and his mommy."

To explain the scared girl held up the custard-colored puffskein. Sambundeakin the puffskein, however simply purred as if nothing on earth was wrong in the world.


Roleplay Response:

The thick air hung over Freja like an oppressive, fat stalker. It wasn't so much like being inside a book store as being inside a big gris. No, wait. What was the English word again? A pig! It felt like being inside the belly of a gigantic pig, with books in it. Freja stretched her shoulder muscles while her eyes scanned the shelves. In front of her was a large selection of books about magic for first year students, which Freja was searching through. Her English had improved greatly over the last few months but simple conversations were one thing. Following magical instruction in a second language was something else. She'd reasoned that books written for younger students would lay out their lessons in the simplest words possible, providing a base for her to build on for her coursework, if the transfer to Hogwarts was accepted for the coming term. She pulled a slim book off the shelf to skim through when the nearby door to outside opened a few feet behind her.

Something tugged on Freja's pants while she was reading. She pulled her hips away to the side and looked down. Standing beside her was a small girl, with what appeared to be a blowdried hairball on her shoulder. The girl then spoke in the volume that only children can get away with indoors.

"I'm lost and it's dark and I wanted to know where I am but I'm not scared but I am worried that Sambundeakin is scared because he's little and needs something to eat and wants to go home."

Freja could only assume that this 'Sambundeakin' was the hairball. The girl quickly added, "He misses my and his mommy." She held the small thing up towards Freja. It purred like a living cat. Freja slid the book that she was holding back onto its shelf and muttered under her breath in a tired voice, "for helvede!" She assumed the girl would not understand this and looked down at her. Really, she was just a kid. Who else was around to help her? "I can protect you and this Sam from the dark,” said Freja, "if you come with me and help me find your mother." She offered the girl her hand.


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