We are currently accepting new applications for Elsewhere!

Author Topic: Elliot Blythe 2.0  (Read 322 times)

Elliot Blythe

    (24/12/2014 at 19:02)
  • *
  • Sixth Year
  • C7D5T8S5
  • Player of the Week Donor
    • View Profile

Application for Hogwarts School

Name: Elliot Oliver Blythe

Birthday: June 22nd, 1927

Hometown: Dublin, Ireland.

Bloodline: Pureblood

Magical Strength (pick one): Transfiguration

Magical Weakness (pick one): Divination

Year (pick two): 6th year.

Biography: [Elliot's metamorphmagus ability has already been approved]

Elliot fiddled with the collar of his dress shirt, steady hands grazing the fabric. He drew his lips into a thin line. In the reflection of the mirror, he noted his furrowed brows, a concentrated look. He creased the fold. Then, he ran his newly unoccupied fingers through his hair, fixing loose strands and messy bits of bedhead toward the back. The hairs on his neck bristled. He hesitated, then locked his gaze with the creaky floorboards beneath his bare feet. He couldn’t look too closely in the mirror; he could hardly recognize himself anymore. He could hardly remember what he first looked like.

The mirror was a new addition to his crumbling apartment; with a little costume change, he’d been able to fool the landowner into thinking he was in his mid-thirties. He lifted his gaze back up. A broader shouldered man looked back at him, speckles of grey in a nest of black, hands worn out and scarred like a carpenter’s. The only trait they both shared was the same name.

Tearing his eyes away from the mirror hung in the entrance way, Elliot ignored the stack of unreturned textbooks at the corner of his dingy flat and sank into his red sofa, one armrest torn to shreds: a metamorph episode he wished he could forget about. He spread out, his feet claiming one end, his head claiming the other. All window blinds were raised, exposing him to a cloudy, gusty afternoon outside. The wind seemed to rattle his entire apartment with him inside.

Stuffing his hand between the two cushions of the sofa, Elliot extracted an orange bottle of pills. He frowned, five tablets left. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, the doctors had diagnosed. Interaction with the outside world had been limited after that. Elliot popped the top off and swallowed two as instructed; medication for anxiety. All the pills really did was give him an energy high. Then, the  numbing effect kicked in and he’d stare into the ceiling for two hours--he would fall asleep if he got lucky.

With a heavy exhale, Elliot stuffed the bottle back between the cushions. He studied his hand, changing it from carpenter’s to his own to elegant woman’s to his own to carpenter's; this he did with an eerie ease. A year prior, he could hardly control changes of eye color; now, he controlled every ounce of every trait he changed. He had made mountainous progress. Crow would be proud, if Elliot still kept in contact with the man, or anyone else nowadays.

Now, only silence kept his company.

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

House Request: Hufflepuff

Please reply to one of the Sample Roleplays below.

Elliot weaved passed the crowds, his quiet gaze targetting a clean way through without any altercations. A group of first year girls giggled and spoke among themselves--Elliot recalculated his route and avoided contact. Woman: to this day, they made his blood run cold and his hands go clammy. He had firm to his messenger bag and pursued a path towards the moving staircases.


Elliot's gaze betrayed him; he locked eyes with one of those reporter girls who seemed to patrol the corridors twenty-four-seven attempting to affirm their gross gossip articles. Elliot briefly wondered how long it had been since the girl ate or slept or bathed; did she ever really leave the corridors or were her stories simply more important?

“Wait up! It’s for the paper!”

Elliot shifted, turning to walk away as he mumbled to himself, "That's exactly why I'm leaving." His heart fluttered as she gained some distance between them, the clacking of her obnoxious shoes growing louder. Elliot ground his molars as he forced himself to stay. Woman; they scared the shit out of him, but he wasn't about to run away.

“What do you think about serving frog legs at lunch? Some say it’s a delicacy, but others think it’s plain gross.”

Elliot turned back to face her, the human adaption of a songbird. He sighed and took a step back; did this girl know nothing about his personal bubble? "I don't care," Elliot responded indifferently.

He studied the girl's expression. He had to admit, his response wouldn't leave her with much to write about. He added hesistantly, "If anyone's complaining about the food here, they've got nothing else to complain about."

Elliot turned to leave.


Please list any characters you have on the site (current and previous): Elliot Blyth, Rodric Medraut, Samuel Oliveroot, Elise Ferris.

How did you find us?: Magic.

hard at work

* Wesley Winsday

    (24/12/2014 at 19:24)
  • *
  • Auror-in-Training
  • C20 D10 T14 S11
    • View Profile
Welcome back!

Mr. Blythe,

Congratulations, your application to Hogwarts School has been accepted. Term begins 01 January, 2015. Currently, students have gathered at Camp Loki. Your admission is joint for both the school and Camp Loki, and we encourage you to spend your summer there. Should you choose, you may also visit our Elsewhere board via the Floo Network to visit or purchase school supplies. We look forward to seeing you at the School.

Wesley W. Winsday
Professor of Charms