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Author Topic: Seth Gray  (Read 751 times)

Seth Gray

    (27/05/2012 at 14:31)
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Character Name: Seth Lachlan Gray

Gender: Male

Age: 42 y.o.(December 21, 1930)

Hogwarts, Gryffindor, Class of ‘48 , 10 years Aurorship (UK and US HQ)

Ottery St. Catchpole (Hometown) but he mostly resides, for the time being, at the Gray Manor in Hogsmeade Countryside

Auror, Ministry of Magic

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?

The Ministry, might be useful to add that he’s closely related to Michael Gray. Seth is Michael’s oldest brother. (have been discussed prior to application)

Requested Magic Levels:
  • Charms: 19 - Strongest.
  • Transfiguration: 11
  • Divination: 9 – Weakest.
  • Summoning: 11

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
Seth Gray (if possible) comes with his wife, Emmeline (NPC). Parents of Thalia Gray, who is currently studying in Hogwarts at the moment. Colin Gray has also been RPed out as an NPC previously.

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Thalia Gray, Julian Cross and Stefan Sinclair

Special Phrase: Tibbles Beard of Power

Biography: (300 words minimum.)

It couldn’t be possible.

Seth would sooner rue the day Michael ascend to limitless power and elevated position. His youngest brother bestowed by such the title of being Head Auror did not sit well with him.

The Ministry must have gone mad.

The 42-year-old swiped the back of his hand against his mouth, wiping away the traces of Firewhiskey that had still lingered upon his day-old stubble. He figured that it was the most appropriate drink to nurse his brew when it came to such… trivial matters. He wasn’t one to consume such alcoholic beverages so early in the day... but the news had him teetering upon his feet, caught him off-guard and irrational.

He needed the burn that badly.


His temples throbbed at the thought of his youngest brother. Deep furrows formed upon his forehead, wrinkling and concerned. He had to restrain himself from pounding his mug against the table, appearances were as important as keeping him temper in check.

Thoughts and emotions warred within him, each weighing their value in his mind. Each held little significance to the matter at hand.

Nothing good could ever come out where Michael was concerned. And clearly, the Ministry seemed to have lost her wits. Malleable as putty in a dangerous man’s hands. They were such fools to hand his brother such authority. Such power.

Now, Seth didn’t hate his brother (hate might have been too strong a word, as did love), despite him being an oddity to the Gray family. Back in their childhood days, he did try reaching out to him, but his efforts were all washed down the drain. Michael had always been the queer one, there was something off about the boy. There was something that was just not there.

Still not there, apparently. 10 years or so had passed and Michael was still that same tragic soul. He couldn't help but feel protective yet still... warning bells echoed in his mind whenever he thought of his younger sibling.

Naturally, their father, Colin, barely understood the boy. Being the distant parent that he was, he was not the sort to be affectionate, much less deign himself with the issues concerning his children. But their parents loved them, supported their dreams, Seth knew that much.

Father, now burdened with old age, still held an iron-grip on the household. Nowadays, he busied himself with re-establish the Grays’ social connections in the Wizarding community.  Their mother, withered but still resilient in nature, concerned herself with more domestic affairs. Their children were all adults, now and they trusted them to make wise decisions.

Having been brought up in a strict and traditional environment, one that set lofty expectations and valued monetary standing, above all things, Seth could only imagine how his father would’ve felt about his youngest son.

A hand curled tighter around his mug of Firewhiskey.

We’re so different, Michael and I, thought Seth bitterly. Truly, they were polar opposites when it came to personality, preferences and in their general outlook in life. Seth liked to think that he was the better half, the good seed, the filial son. But now, look how his errant brother had turned out.

Father must be so bloody pleased.

The man wiped brushed his hand over her face and sighed deeply. Jealousy was futile, especially at a time like this. He didn’t want to ruminate on such horrid things any more.

If Michael were to be his superior, then so be it. Merlin knows, the hand of justice could still be upon them all.

All he hoped for was mercy, lest the blood of the innocent be spilled in sacrilege. When and if that time did come, he supposed, there really wasn’t much he could do but hope selfishly for the better.

He hoped he’d be ready to confront his brother.

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 Rogue was in full-swing tonight.

Seth took a swig of his Butterbeer, going against his wife’s disapproval of its slight alcoholic content, before plunking the mug down on the wooden table. He wiped the froth that had gathered around his mouth, grinning at his fellow colleagues.

Being an auror was hard work. They were always up at odd hours, tracking and trailing suspected dark wizards. Their guards were always up, senses alert and vigilant, always prepared should there be compromises.

The work was definitely taxing and not to mention, death-defying. Yet, Seth lived for every moment of it, as did his wife. Being an Auror by profession was honourable and rewarding, to say the least. His own parents were proud of him.

The door to the Rogue was violently wrenched open and a couple of drunkards streamed out, leaving the door hanging by the hinge, ajar. Seth sighed in annoyance, getting up with the intention of closing the door to keep out the chill.

But as he did so, he noticed a little girl huddled near the inside of the door. She looked so lost and forlorn, clutching her cloak around her, hugging some furry little creature to her chest.

Seth was just about to speak when she started talking a mile a minute.

"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… He misses me and my mommy."

Seth chuckled in response for he was greatly reminded of his own daughter Thalia, for she was as talkative (inquisitive, rather) as the crumpet now standing before him.

“Oh, what’s a tiny little thing like you doing in a place like this? You must be lost.” Seth crouched down to the girl’s level, speaking gently as could, hoping he wouldn’t frighten her away.

“Come, love.” Seth gestured inwards, inviting her inside the Rogue. “I may be able to help you and Sambundeakin home.” He glanced at his colleagues, only to find them glaring back at him. He had no choice but to bring the lass in. Shrugging, he helped the child onto a bar stool, hollering out to the old bartender, Harvey.

“Ole’ Harvey! Could you whip up some hot chocolate for our young miss? And some nuts for her little puffskein friend, perhaps? I owe you one.” Seth smiled winningly at the elderly, a boyish grin appearing on his weathered face. He’d promised the old boy a game of chess, just a week ago, and for someone at his age and untended physical condition, Harvey still had a sharp mind.

“Aye, lad. That you do!” The old man gave a toothy smile, winking at the young girl before shuffling into the backroom to prepare what had been requested.

Seth turned to face the girl, leaning his elbow onto the countertop, genuine concern etched onto his face.

“What did you say you name was again, lass? And who, if I may ask, might your parents’ be?”

Professor Tibble

    (30/05/2012 at 19:31)
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Since you're requesting more than 32 levels of magic, you need to reply to the other RP scenario - we need to see how you respond to more desperate situations. Thanks.
"You threw the manual into a supernova? Why?."

"Because I disagreed with it. Stop talking to me when I'm cross!"

- The Doctor, 'Amy's Choice'

Seth Gray

    (07/06/2012 at 00:57)
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(Oops! Totally missed that out.)

Exceptional Characters RP:

Mr. Grunch smirked as stepped into the shadows beneath the overhanging eaves at the side of the street. There was a sort of alcove here, where two buildings came together, and the wall was set back just a couple of feet to make space for a drain from the battered lead guttering. It made it difficult to see if anyone was standing there until you were almost on top of it, and the shape of the roof up above cast an almost permanent shadow even then.

There were a number of such places along Knockturn Alley and Mr. Grunch knew them all.

Seeing nobody was nearby, he quickly cast the concealment spell that would obscure his features, making him unrecognisable, just a blur beneath the cowl of his thick, but worn, robes. He knew his target, had identified them some time before, as they entered the Alley. He had shadowed them, discretely, and now, he knew, they were heading back out again, towards the safety of the better lit Diagon Alley.

He heard the footsteps approaching. This was it, then. Just before they reached the alcove, he stepped out suddenly in front of his target, wand raised and ready.

"Give me all yer galleons, and any jewellery yer got! Don't try to hide nothin', 'cos I'll know, right? Do it now!"

RP Response:

Something didn’t feel right.

It wasn’t the hollow clicks his footsteps were making against the cobbled streets, nor was it the perpetually inconstant lighting that would occasionally plunge the alley in darkness. Shadows flickered up windows, illuminating ominous-looking silhouettes, the eerie quiet adding to the dismal atmosphere.

Seth Gray wasn’t usually bothered by these. He simply couldn’t afford to, not in his line of work.

Still, that something caused his skin to prickle, the fine hair covering his arms standing on end. His hand crept downwards to his belt strap, unsheathing his wand, poised in his hand, keeping it hidden under his coat. Always ready.

A number of offensive spells came to mind, and he would be quick to harness them, if necessary.

Seth drew closer towards the area of the alley where shadows lurked and congregated, where a band of thieves could plot amongst themselves the tragedy of many. The 42-year old scratched his day-old stubble, he was overthinking things again, based on his emotions. But that was what he was good at, wasn’t he? Perception.

A dark blur passed in front of him, blocking his way.

"Give me all yer galleons, and any jewellery yer got! Don't try to hide nothin', 'cos I'll know, right? Do it now!"

Seth paused, assessing the situation.  It was laughable, he hadn’t even thought of harm coming his way. The poor man had truly not known who he'd decided to victimise that night.

“My good man, I’m afraid I’ve not much galleons and jewelllery to offer you...” Seth chuckled softly, fingering his wand, feeling it hum with power. He ought not to squander his skills on juvenile tricks. He was after dark wizards, not would-be muggers armed with wands. 

“… and I shouldn’t like to harm anyone on this pleasant evening. I do strongly suggest you put away your wand, sir.”

No one needed to get hurt.

Esme Vartan

    (07/06/2012 at 04:06)
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I'm the opposite of moderate
immaculately polished.