Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

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→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.

Name: Silas Plinth

Birthday: Nov. 30th 1952

Hometown: Wiltshire, England

Bloodline:
Pureblood

Magical Strength (pick one):
Transfiguration

Magical Weakness (pick one):
Divination

Year (pick two):
Seventh (Preferred), Sixth (Second choice)

Biography:
If you are applying to be a first, second, or third year, your biography must be at least one hundred words long.
If you are applying to be a fourth year or above, your biography must be at least three hundred words long.

Silas Arcturus Plith was born on a stormy November evening at the Plinth Manor, the grand ancestral seat of the Plinth family, the first and only son of Helvius and Persephone Plinth. The Plinth family, an ancient, well-respected and well-known pureblood wizarding family, had no heir to continue the prestigious lineage until Silas was born. Thus, from the moment he was, the weight of carrying on the Plinth legacy fell on Silas’ shoulders. There was no love within his household — his father, an unforgiving and stern man, had great expectations of his son and heir. His mother was the same, determined to make him into someone the family legacy could be proud of. The Plinth family was old money wealthy, and so for as soon as he was able to understand, Silas was given tutors and more — everything he could ask for, with the intention of moulding him into one of society’s elite. His father, having attended Durmstrang Institute himself, planned on sending his son there, but it was Persephone, a Hogwarts Slytherin graduate, who insisted that he attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. To placate his wife, Helvius agreed after Silas received his acceptance letter, albeit a little reluctantly. It would be best for all, if he could find himself sorted into Slytherin. That was his wish, as he stepped into the great hall his first year. Put me in Slytherin. He would keep up with his studies and put in tremendous effort with his classes and his schooling, finding a profound love for Quidditch and preferring to stay at the school most breaks instead of returning home. The Plinth Manor had always felt cold to him, for it was devoid of the love and warmth one should expect from a home and the family that lived there.

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

House Request: I would love to see him in Slytherin!

Personality:
Tell us a bit about your character’s personality (likes, dislikes, fears, etc.) What are they like on a good day versus a bad one? Is your character particularly cheerful? Do they hate sunlight?

Unlike the vast majority of his family, Silas has a rather different personality. While at the beginning of a relationship or from afar he may seem cold, the striking image of his father, he’s actually quite charismatic and open-minded.

Appearance:
Briefly describe your character's appearance (hair color, build, stature, etc.) What effect does it have on their personality? For example, does the shy Ravenclaw girl secretly dye her hair black because she hates her natural blonde? Does the curly-haired Gryffindor use charms to hide his freckles?

N/A

→ RETURNING STUDENTS.
Note: This section is only for students who have been previously played at Hogwarts. Please see here for more information about Castle Dropouts levels/how many levels you are eligible to claim.

Link to your last levels request (if you never posted one, link to your last accepted student application):

Number of New Levels Requested:

New Levels Request:

How your character kept up with their studies: Whether your character was still at Hogwarts or left school entirely for a while, tell us how they were able to keep up with their studies and learn about magic, which would allow their levels to keep increasing.

→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character. Remember, you can only roleplay your own character's actions, not Evangeline's or Hugh's.

Option I:

The dungeons. A place eleven-year-old Evangeline had not yet travelled since her arrival at Hogwarts.

A place she really was just fine with not knowing; but it was too late. The dare had been accepted, even if it had been done in fear of being kicked out of Gryffindor, like the older girls had said she would because Gryffindors were supposed to be brave.

The air changed instantly when she hit the main corridor of the dungeons. The dampness was almost too much for her and she instinctively took a deep breath to avoid the sensation of being suffocated. There was also a sour burning smell which Evangeline assumed was from many, many Potions lessons.

Further and further she walked, her steps so slow and gentle they made no noise against the stone walls and floor. The feeling that she wasn't alone crept up her spine and raised the tiny hair on the back of her neck. Shivering, Evangeline wrapped her arms around herself. Suddenly, she missed the warmth and comfort of the Gryffindor common room. The fire was always going and it made her feel at ease.

Why had she let those girls talk her into this? She was only eleven, she didn't have to be brave. Surely the Headmistress would not kick her out of Hogwarts for not being brave.

If only she had these thoughts while being dared to search for the ghost of one Emma Birch, whom supposedly haunted the dungeons. It was not, Evangeline had learned, the place where the sixteen-year-old girl's life had ended but as she had been from the house with a snake as its mascot, it was the place her spirit had returned to. That common room was down here somewhere, she'd been told.

Something - the small blonde girl wasn't quite sure what - but something made her stop in her tracks suddenly. There was a low, dull thumping noise. Or maybe that was her heart beating so loudly she thought it was coming from outside her body.

"H-h-hello?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Remembering that she was supposed to be brave, Evangeline tried again.

"Hello! Is Emma Birch here?"

The sound of her own words bouncing back at her off the walls made her jump.

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Option 2:

That rat of his was in for it now.

The gray little rascal had disappeared from his clutches at breakfast. Again.

Before Hugh even knew what was happening, Merlin had shot across the floor, somehow managing to avoid all the feet walking across the hall and had escaped through the open doors.

Which meant that Hugh was now stomping through rows of flowers and other various flora, searching for the small creature. It was like the rat knew Hugh was allergic to most flowers. Merlin always chose to run to the gardens whenever he got away from Hugh. It was as if the rat did not want to have him for an owner.

Hugh had named his pet Merlin because he had hoped the powerful name would give the rat more incentive to be more than a rat. Not that he expected Merlin to change into a wizard or anything, but rats were just so...useless, for the most part. With a name like Merlin, Hugh thought it might give the rat purpose.

The only purpose Merlin seemed to have was getting away from Hugh as often as possible.

As the fifth year trudged into the second row of flowers, not taking much care to avoid trampling the first row, he felt the first sneeze building up pressure in his nose and behind his eyes.

"You blasted rat! Where are you?"

He pulled apart a section of bright red flowers; he didn't know what they were called because he despised flowers, and ducked his head low to peer into the depths of the flowerbed. It was moving closer in proximity to the flowers that finally did it. Hugh took in three great breaths and then let out an almighty sneeze. It was strong enough to disturb some of the dirt on the ground before him.

Groaning, he stood up again and wiped his nose on his sleeve. It was as he was turning his head, his nose running up and down his arm, that movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Normally one who preferred to put his best face forward, Hugh was a bit embarrassed to be caught wiping his runny nose on his robes.

Nevertheless, Hugh put on his best haughty voice. albeit a bit thickly with his plugged nose and said, "Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare."

Roleplay Response: Option 1

It was a quiet evening at Hogwarts. Classes had ended for the day, and to say he was exhausted would have been an understatement. However, as tired as he was.. he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. In fact, he welcomes it. Were it up to his father all those years ago, he would’ve been drilled incessantly without a break from sunup to sundown. It was his mother who had saved him from that awful fate, and though he would never say it to her face, he’s thankful for it. Not because he’s impolite…but she might’ve taken offense to it instead.

Blinking so that his eyesight could adjust to the lighting, Silas Plinth fought back the urge to yawn as his room came into view. Right. He’d fallen asleep and accidentally taken a nap, books strewn across his lap and his bed from his studies. The Plinth boy should’ve been used to it by now, having already had a few years within the castle’s walls, but old habits die hard it seems. Sitting up, he runs a hand through his soft, thick curls and sleepily shakes his head before leaning forward to close his books and gather them into his arms before he stands from his bed, his joints creaking as he did so.

Wincing at a jolt of pain in the back of his neck (he must’ve slept wrong) he returns his textbooks to their rightful places, adjusting his robes and his appearance to look as put together as possible…just as his mother and father had taught him. A soft sigh falling from his lips, the boy makes his way into the Slytherin common room — empty, due to the hour of night it currently was.

For a moment he stands there, considering, gnawing on his bottom lip — a nervous habit he never broke, even since childhood. It’s against the rules to be roaming the halls at night, he knows…but if he wasn’t caught, a little rule-breaking couldn’t hurt, right?

Thus, that’s how he found himself roaming the castle dungeon corridors…to clear his sleep-addled mind, he tells himself. He startles at the sound of a voice, young and feminine. One that definitely shouldn’t be down here. Following the sound, a young girl comes into view, and Silas crosses his arms over his chest. “You shouldn’t be down here.” He says. “It’s not safe.”


→ ABOUT YOU.

Please list any characters you have  on the site (current and previous):

How did you find us?: I was just scrolling and came across this website while looking for a writing website!

Approved!

Hi Jasper! Welcome to Hoggies!

Your application looks great so far! There are just a couple of things we'll need you to do before we can get you accepted.

First, in our site canon, Jasper's occupation would be considered unusual. So that means that you will either need to change his occupation, or submit a special request to the administrators for approval. The templates for special requests can be found here (just scroll down until you find the template for unusual occupations).

There are also a few instances in powerplay (which are defined in the site rules). First, you wrote:

The man he was waiting for was coming down the street, his arms full of tinsel and a parcel. Jasper’s eyes lingered on the parcel.

This would be considered powerplay, as a pre-existing relationship has not been plotted out beforehand with the man's player. You could say that Jasper was waiting for a random target, and then decide that the other character is the perfect target.

Second, you wrote:

He quickly grabbed the tinsel the man had dropped and handed it back to him theatrically enough to tangle it a bit. Jasper turned as the man fidgeted with the tinsel and picked up his own parcel and handed it to the man, being sure to claim the man’s parcel as his own.

With objects that are owned by someone else (or objects that we are handing back to others, we always need to attempt our actions to allow the other player to decide what happens. In this instance, you could say that Jasper attempted to hand the man the tinsel and package.

If you could make the changes and reply with your entire revisted application, then we can take another look. If you have questions, don't hesitate to PM me or another member of staff.

This application has been approved and has been moved to Elsewhere Accepted.

http://hogwarts-school.net/sortinghat/index.php?topic=10306.0

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Alcide Tudor
Gender: Male
Age: 34 - 1 April 1935
Blood Status: Pureblood

Education:
Durmstrang 1953

Residence:
Currently in London, England

Occupation
Cursebreaker

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?
The Ministry of Magic

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 Exceptional Levels special request form here.

• Charms: 12
• Divination: 6
• Transfiguration: 7
• Summoning: 7

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
No

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Scarlet McLaughlin (McCormick) & Co.

Biography: (300 words minimum.)

There's not much known about the childhood of Alcide Tudor. Born into a well preserved pureblood family, there is only speculation about what had gone on behind closed doors. Generational wealth, strong prejudices, and beauty were things confirmed by the public. Elitist blood ran through their veins, spanning back to the beginning of time when the name Tudor meant nothing. Before the surname struck fear and also respect in the hearts of many around them. The family is well known among all classes of society, for a multitude of reasons, for better and for worse.

Durmstrang provided solace from the orders of duty - but barely. Excellence and perfection had been expected, and thus, achieved by the firstborn and heir. Manners, conversation, and manipulation were things he had learned at a young age. The art of insults in the form of a tongue versus a wand - though he had his fair share of using his fists in bursts of anger. The urge to express masculinity was far more toxic than any potion created or conjured. Dominance was taught, drilled into the psyche of the boy from an early age, and that carried him well into his adulthood. Confidence with every stride was a must to grasp the attention of those around him.

After graduation, he was sent to marry Freya Erling of Norway. It was there he began his work as a Cursebreaker, working hard to be respected for more than just his name. He became skilled in his department and learned all that he could. Truth be told, Alcide was content until...he wasn't. The man bought several properties in various countries, though he hadn't had the time to travel much. At thirty-two, the man accepted a position at the Ministry in Britain and left his wife to tend to their duties and children in her homeland.


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

Option One -
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:

The streets of Diagon Alley were filthy, both figuratively and literally. Disgustingly bred patrons filled the cobblestone streets, leaving no gaps as the crowds hurried to their destination. Small, meaningless lives wasted away for what? As they scrambled to find supplies for their sticky-fingered children, or buy the latest set of robes?

The man was beginning to go sir crazy being in the same place for so long. It was nearly time for a change, or some sort of excitement.

And unfortunately, the kind he was after wouldn’t appear.

As Alcide followed the traffic, a woman’s shrill voice echoed between bodies. A narrow look washed over his usually cool demeanor and he turned his head to look at where it seemed to be coming from. It was there a redhead sat on the ground, seemingly frantic.

“You need to get out of the way, forget the shoe!” he offered as advice, moving with the crowd as she came into better view.

OTHER
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