Dashiell E. Vallen (renewed)

[Dashiell Vallen]

E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Dashiell E. Vallen 
Gender: Male
Age: 32

Education: 
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – Class of 1925 – Ravenclaw House

Residence:
Dover, Kent, England

Occupation
Historian
Journalist

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 Daily Prophet

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: 9
• Divination: 7
• Transfiguration: 8
• Summoning: 8

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
Halfblood on the Census

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Past: Matilda Gaskell, Marlen Gaskell, Michon Dubois, Lady Persey de Wimsey, Poppy Tietjens
Current: Dashiell Vallen, Arminia Meadowes, Beatrix Lancaster

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
Dashiell E. Vallen was born at exactly 3 a.m.

His mother, Grace Vallen, would never know her son, for she died giving birth to him, though this was only the first gift Grace's life would bring the boy in his lifetime. His father, James Mamet, would never be aware of his son, for he met seventeen-year-old Grace Vallen at a dance hall on December 31st while he'd been visiting Llantrisant on New Year's leave from New York City, and had checked out of his hotel room the next morning having no idea when the woman with the fair hair and crystal eyes left his side.

It was, after all, probably best that James Mamet did not know of his son. He would have tried to do something foolish, such as bring him back to breed him in America. This would have led him to find out something someone like James Mamet would have found horrifying.

Grace Vallen had been a witch, and her son was to be a warlock.

Poor Grace never told of her affair with a man she'd known to be a muggle. When the time came to announce her growing belly, she told her family she'd fallen in love with a rich French warlock who had been married the whole while during their brief affair. Moira, who had the job of being the young wife of a low ranking Ministry official while Grace transferred to Beauxbatons for her final year of school, had no idea who her sister was friends with to ascertain the validity of this statement. Being the only two children of Samuel Vallen, a straight-laced healer, meant few questions ran in their habitual system. The man was changed; he had lost his wife of five years while she gave birth to Grace and never got over it.

It was, after all, probably best that Samuel Vallen attributed the baby's fair hair and crystal eyes to an overdose of valerian root in his wife's system. He did not know his wife, Elena Ellwood, had been unfaithful to him with David Coulby, the muggle son of the muggle butcher in town, who had died while trying to butcher a strong cow three weeks earlier.

So it came to be that Grace Vallen was to be a fair haired, crystal eyed halfblood raised as if she were a chestnut haired, hazel eyed pureblood named Vallen instead of Ellwood-Coulby, which would have been the combined blood names of her true parents.

And it further came to be that Dashiell Vallen was a fair haired, crystal eyed quarterblood raised as if he were a chestnut haired, hazel eyed halfblood named Vallen-unknown instead of Mamet-Ellwood-Coulby, which would have been the combined names of his true lineage, for James Mamet's parents were some of the last in the fashion of cousins marrying each other before it became incestuously glanced at.

Neither Grace nor Dashiell ever knew of their misinterpreted lineage. The Vallens were a family who asked few questions and accepted most truths, and Dashiell was not to be an exception.

Moira and her husband Tomson Ellard took on the responsibility of Dashiell. They named him and bathed him and clothed him. They had one child of their own, Eliza, who was a whole two years older and doted on "dear Dashy" until she became too old and too filled with angst to bother playing with dolls. Dashiell grew up to be somewhat intelligent within his family, who had always been a family of simple minded individuals. He read every book he could find vivaciously. He adored his aunt and uncle and cousin as if they were of his own flesh and blood. He just knew things about things and people without having to ask questions.

It came as a surprise to find that he was dyspelsic.

Upon entering Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Dashiell became an object of consternation among his teachers when every attempt he made at casting any sort of spell, charm, or incantation fizzled or backfired or stalled. For the first time in his life, Dashiell was truly distraught.

And distraught brings along many things.

Most importantly, questions.

He took solace in the few classes he excelled in, as they were the ones which rarely required him to produce a wand and cast a spell. It baffled him and his teachers. He could read other books and subjects with outstanding enthusiasm and ease. But when faced with a spell, the word mixed itself into "a blur of melting letters" as Dash first described it to his worried House Head.

It became harder for him to make friends as they began to realize his deficiency. And so Dashiell, who held so much love for those around him, grew fiercely shy and distant. The few friends he managed to keep he adored to the point of near obsession, but his quiet personality made this social error difficult for even his closest friends to see.

And Dashiell saw that he was different.

And Dashiell wanted answers.
 
Perhaps this longing for answers is what made Dashiell bury himself in history. He worked hard to memorize every theory, every story, and though his spell casting eventually got better, he never lost his passion for the History of Magic. He eventually turned his passions to use at the Daily Prophet and has been hard at work there since 1927. The war put a bit of a damper on things as he was drafted into the MOD, but Dashiell does what he can to skirt away from the danger.

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:
Being out in the middle of a Diagon Alley rush was not something Dashiell enjoyed.
He meant to meet his cousin Eliza for lunch. Lately, she had been seeing one of her exes on a regular basis, and any meeting with Dashiell normally meant too much wine and tears on his shoulder. It made him feel needed. His Aunt Moira often encouraged him to visit Eliza when he could as they both lived in the city. But Dash, busy with his job at the Daily Prophet, found he was only able to manage meeting for lunch or dinner once a week. He could not deny it was a nice routine: Eliza cooked at her place and he met her there.
This particular afternoon kept Dashiell on his toes. He was on his way to Eliza's, sweeping past other walkers and trying to ignore the repetitive bumping and nudging, when he heard the noise. A woman, crying. It sent immediate panic off in his ears. Dash turned against the crowd and moved towards the girl.
To his utter surprise, it was Amelia Nixon.
"Amelia," he mumbled as he bent over, his lanky limbs coming in handy as he tried to help her up.
The heel of her shoe was broken and stuck. Dash couldn't believe the amount of people who would not stop, and treated their placement in the middle of the cobblestones as a nuisance.
"Let me help you."

OTHER
How did you find us? Google | TopSites | Recommendation | Facebook | Tumblr | Other

[Martin Hawksworth]

Accepted