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Noah Ross

    (12/12/2014 at 06:20)
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E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

Character Name: Noah Ellis Ross
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Blood Status: Halfblood

Hogwarts school, Gryiffindor ‘42

Whatever Couch I Can Crash On, Britain.

Being a bum. Aspiring Quid Player.

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?

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: 6
  • Divination: 9
  • Transfiguration: 6
  • Summoning: 9

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
Just the lovely Ross clan~

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Lincoln Litchfield, Eugene Bryce, and co.

Biography: (300 words minimum.)

Noah Ross has ninty-nine problems but girls and quid ain't one.

Unsurprisingly and chiefly among them is none other than Nathaniel Ross... if you could even call him a Ross. Nothing more than some bastard born to a home-wrecking floozy, Nate was a dweeby Ravenclaw who stole the title of first born son out from under Noah by just a couple of months.

If Nate and his mother had just never shown up that day--

Whatever; it was no skin off his nose. Even if Noah's parents weren't together any more, at least his mom was still alive-- She had handled childbirth like a champ, and to twins, no less. Noah one. Nathaniel zero.

Speaking of the twins... Jackson was a constant thorn in his side as well. Like a traitor, he'd also been put into Ravenclaw. It shouldn't have come too much surprise; Noah'd always find the little pansy hiding with his nose in a book when he should have been outside. For all Noah knew, the kid probably hung out with Puffs. Thankfully Sofie existed to make up for their sorry excuse of a brother. It was Sofie Noah had faith in. She had been placed in Gryffindor, and she even had that tough Ross spirit that was so absent in Jacks.

School had been a whole world of ups and downs of its own. Classes, for one, were not high on his list of priorities despite that-- if he kept that up-- he was more than likely headed for a life of working at his father's bakery. So occasionally he had shown up for class, enough so that he barely scraped the top of passing. For the most part, he'd been concerned about three things: Gryffindor, girls, and Quid.

Quid he was good at. From the second he'd been able to get his hands on a broomstick, Noah had been aces at flying. A natural at it, some would say, and had a keen eye for Beating-- not to mention the arm. Any day of the week one could find him playing Quid or thinking about strategies, and if one couldn't find him doing that, then you were more than likely to find him with his arm slung around a different girl.

And then graduation came and went, and he was glad for it. Just as quick as he had taken to a broom, Noah had been out the door-- but finding a job wasn't easy. In between trying out for Quid teams he's taken to hopping from place to place, sleeping on couches until he's no longer wanted and then moving to the next.

It wasn't his fault no one had taken him on yet. They'd just been second-rate teams to get his foot in the door, anyway. It was their loss.

You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character:

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:
Hands in his pockets, moving down the streets with the rest of the afternoon crowd, Noah's stomach rumbled. He hadn't gotten breakfast and was absolutely starving, and nothing sounded better than a sandwich right about now. Turkey and swiss on a fluffy roll. Or, even better, a burger. A growl of approval made itself known from his insides, but a frown tugged the corners of his lips.

Food cost money; something he was desperately getting low on. A few coins rattled in his pocket, but he needed to make it last as long as possible. May if he just--

“Merlin’s fog watch, my heel is broken! Help!”

Merlin indeed. It was as if the Big Man himself had heard Noah and sent a blessing. Taking a quick glance at the window he passed, Noah smoothed back his hair and brushed off his shoulders before sliding between elbows and rounding bodies until he reached his target.

"Got it!" Noah piped up, reaching down to snatch up said heel before a mountain of a man could trod upon it. If that had happened, he'd never win a Thank You For Helping Me lunch out of this.

Slipping on a charming little smile, Noah reached out his hand to her, "Do you need help?"

How did you find us? angels

Estella Ricardus

    (12/12/2014 at 15:51)
I cannot even begin to tell you how accepted this is.