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Archived Applications / Alexander Darcy
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Application for Hogwarts School
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.
Name: Alexander Maxwell Hugo Darcy
Birthday: September 3rd 1947
Hometown: Courtland Hill: countryside just outside of Canterbury, Kent
Bloodline: Pureblood
Magical Strength (pick one):Divination
Magical Weakness (pick one):Charms
Year (pick two): second pls! or first
Biography:
Oct.1952
Five years old
Five years old
"Alex! Give that back right now!"
For a boy barely five years old, Alexander Darcy was very fast. He raced through the halls of Courtland Hill, clutching the book with pudgy little fists, with no intention of giving it back. He had dirt upon his face and his jumper was more food stains than wool, but he wasn't the slightest bit bothered, much more interested in the frustrated tears that glistened in the corners of his older brother Nathaniel's eyes.
"Cry baby!"
Alex shrieked with laughter, waving the leatherbound thing tauntingly. Nathaniel liked to read, but Alex would've much rather have used the tome as a ball to chuck around in quidditch, or as a missile to throw at the house elves, than actually open it.
"Fetch!"
He hurled it out of the closest window with great gusto, grinning as it landed with a thud upon the grass three stories below.
Feb.1955
Seven years old
Seven years old
The older boy was being rude. He said mean things about Flora and Fauna's dresses, and flung around words like 'controlling' and 'heartless' as if he knew the first thing about Alexander's family. Alex fixed him with a scornful look. He wasn't scared, he had no reason to be. This boy, with his scruffy clothes(not just messy like Alex's, but properly old and worn out), was no threat to him, even if he was a good head and a half taller.
"You don't know what you're talking about."
He didn't know the word the boy used next, but he knew it was a really really rude one that only commoners used. Alex didn't think. He balled up his hand so that it formed a rock hard little fist, and drove it into the boy's stomach. Nobody talked about his family like that.
(He would've gone for the face if he'd been able to reach.)
Nov.1956
Nine years old
Nine years old
The best part of these big parties was the pretty girls in their pretty dresses. Alexander chatted with them cheerily, lucky enough to be free of the nerves and anxiety that plagued his older brother. They liked him. Everyone always liked him. Or, at least, everyone of any actual importance.
"One day you're going to marry a girl just like them."
Alex glanced up at his father with a ready grin of complete and utter adoration -- the expression of a child who still idolised his father as this godlike figure, always right, no matter what. His friends all thought girls were gross, but Alex thought they were great. Not as good as boys obviously, but pretty.
"Which one?"
The man chuckled, ruffling Alex's already messy (always messy) hair affectionately. Alex basked in the attention. His dad was never home, he was always super busy at his boring job doing boring stuff with boring money, but today he was here, bound to this party by the laws of society. They were dumb laws if you asked Alex, but right now he liked them very much.
"We don't know yet Alexander. A rich one."
Alex grinned even wider. "I want five wives," he announced with pride. "No! Six!"
Dec.1958
Eleven years old
Eleven years old
Alex lay as still as he could upon the landing that overlooked the entrance hall. In his hand he held the piece of string that, when tugged, would release a massive tub of glitter over whoever he chose. And he knew exactly who he'd choose.
Alex's older cousin Clara didn't like their family. Alex thought that was very unfair, and so he disliked her back. She seemed to think that she was better than the rest of them, but he was determined to bring her down a few pegs (if only because he was pretty sure he was the best of the lot anyway). It was Christmas and so the whole family would be gathering and he had the perfect plot.
It felt like years before Clara and her family eventually arrived. It was worth it though to see the look of complete fury upon her face when the sparkly blue glitter rained down upon her and he shrieked with laughter. It was even worth the bruises she dealt in retaliation. She couldn't do anything, not really. He'd be off at Durmstrang in only a couple months and she'd be stuck in boring old Hogwarts.
Jun.1960
Twelve years old
Twelve years old
He saw the disappointment in his father's eyes, the way he glanced over the space in which Alex stood as if he were not there, and he felt the shame set in. Up in Silas Darcy's study, buried beneath other, far more important, papers would be the root of the problem -- a reportcard emblazoned with T after T and a letter from Durmstrang's headmaster saying that he, Alexander Maxwell Hugo Darcy, would be repeating his first year should he return.
"I--"
His throat closed up before he could even pass the first syllable, but that was probably a good thing because he had no idea what to say. Alex hid his hands behind his back so he would not see them shake, lacing his fingers together and squeezing them tight as if this might give him some form of comfort.
(It didn't)
"Alexander this is an embarrassment your mother and I will not stand by, you understand? We will be moving you to Hogwarts so that you do not have to repeat a year, and you are to tell no one of this. If you do not achieve EEs by the end of your second year then we will have no choice but to confiscate your broom."
He heard it as if from the other side of a brick wall -- muffled, and barely audible. Alex could only nod silently, and force back the burn of tears that threatened to form. It would only make it worse, dad said boys weren't allowed to cry.
→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.
House Request: Gryffindor
Personality:
There is a lot that you can fault Alexander Darcy for. He’s a boy raised on privilege, a blood purist who expects everyone to do what he says, and thinks he’s better than you simply because he’s rich and pureblooded. Some might say that he only cares about himself and while that is not entirely true (he really does love his family, regardless of their many faults, and there are a couple friends who he genuinely cares for), it is not too far from the truth. Certainly, he is selfish. He’s always looking for a bit of trouble and fun, and if this comes at your expense then he really just doesn’t care. He’ll take what he thinks is his, which is everything, and he’ll offer you nothing more than a careless shrug and maybe a smile too in return.
Alexander is, however, not without the occasional positive attribute. This belief that he is better than you may make him obnoxious, difficult, and at times just plain dislikable, but it also makes him very confident (bordering cockiness to be honest). He’s a good decision maker and a natural ring leader, always with some crazy scheme that’s probably a terrible idea but a hell of a lot of fun tucked up his sleeve. Alex’s taste for trouble means there’s never a dull moment with him, and the frequent sticky situations that it lands him in has taught him to be quick upon his feet, and good at making stuff up as he goes along. He basically never knows what he’s doing, or what he’s talking about, but you’d never be able to guess it from the way he talks.
Though his Durmstrang Professors would disagree, Alex is not actually lazy, and neither is he dumb. He doesn’t take well to being told what to do and so struggles a lot under authority, and in team situations where he is not in charge. Alex is dyslexic but unaware of it, and following the failure that was Durmstrang, has been left under the impression that he’s just stupid, which especially bothers him because of how angry his father (whose opinion he cares about far too much) was. He’s easily bored and so will only put effort into the things that interest him, namely quidditch. Academics are, unfortunately, not one of those things.
Having been brought up in a society where half of everything is fake, Alex has become very good at lying, and by extension at detecting lies. This makes him somewhat backstabbing, though to those he cares about he is undyingly loyal. He’s a very observant kid, but unfortunately for basically everyone else, he makes no good use out of this talent and instead puts it into figuring out what buttons to push to annoy people (and, of course, quidditch) -- something he finds very entertaining and does far too much. He’s proud and brave to the point of being massively reckless. If you want a fight, Alex will give you one, and if he loses it then you’ll wake up the next morning to find all your clothes dumped into the bottom of the lake. If you dare him to do something, he will do it no matter what -- he’s a true dare devil and thrill seeker, with zero regard whatsoever for how dangerous something could be.
Alex is extraordinarily close minded, if you don’t fit into his perceived definition of normal then he’ll make fun of you mercilessly, and have a lot of fun doing so. Girls usually have a bit more leeway with this as he’s been taught to at least pretend to be chivalrous, but, well, some girls are just so annoying, you know?
Still, he is, and no doubt he will always be, completely and utterly girl obsessed.
Appearance:
Alex stands at just below average height, with a slim build strengthened somewhat from muscle built from quidditch. He's sensitive about his height, bring it up and he'll deck you, but it does lend itself well to sneaking around and evading people. He sports the usual blonde locks of his family, but when he's not home then his are constantly wind-tousled from flying, and never ever brushed. It's grown a little long and now hangs into blue eyes, so he has to push it back every other minute or so. Alex can usually be found wearing a particularly annoying grin, kind of charming in it's cheekiness, and very very untrustworthy.
→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
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."
Alex rested his broom against his shoulder, watching with a tilted head and sharp eyes as a boy who looked to be a couple years older than him rummaged through the flowers and muttered to himself. He, of course, had no intention of helping. Alex didn't even recognise this boy, who was he to stop such an entertaining scene?
A particularly dramatic sneeze had Alex stifling a snicker. The image of snot wiped across the other boy's arm forced a shrieked "EW!" though, and Alex could do nothing to stop it. He grimaced in disgust and then grinned just as fast. The haughty tone that the boy offered him did nothing to dampen his mood, and if anything his grin only widened.
"Nah, I'm good," he waved away the question. "Don't mind me, you keep looking for whatever it is you're looking for."
Alex crouched down and folded his legs beneath himself, making himself comfortable upon the dirt. it was clear he had no intention of moving.
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