Atticus Rivera | Elsewhere Adult

[Atticus Rivera]

E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Atticus Rivera
Gender: Male
Age: 23 June 1937
Blood Status: Half-blood

Education: 
Hogwarts (1947-1954)

Residence:
Knightsbridge, London, England

Occupation
Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic (approved by Aneeka)

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?
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: 11
• Divination: 10
• Transfiguration: 6
• Summoning: 5

*note: placeholder levels, I do intend to submit a exceptional levels request*

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:
Tim Winchester, etc

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
Atticus Rivera has a long history of defying the odds. 

Born to Miguel--an immigrant from Uruapan, Mexico--and Lillian--a Brit from the day she breathed her first gasp of air--Rivera, he came as something of an unexpected miracle. The pregnancy had been rough to the point that everyone had been convinced that it was doomed to end in disaster. His muggle father was reluctant to give his wife over to the wizarding medicine that he didn’t fully understand, and his wizard mother was dismayed to find that even they didn’t have all of the answers. The whole thing had been full of insecurity, unsurety, and worry. 

Indeed, Miguel and Lillian expected their baby to arrive in anguish and be buried not long after. It seemed the nurses at St. Mungo’s expected something quite similar. 

However, as if to prove a point, he appeared in the world as if the pregnancy had been picture perfect. His lungs were healthy (boy were they), his heart beat as it was expected to, his body was fully formed, and there was no evidence that he’d given his family a long ride to that very moment. It seemed the trouble had always been with Lillian and not him, thus enshrining him into the annals of his family’s history as an only child. 

His childhood was what most would want it to be: uneventful. He lived his days out with his mum and his dad in their neighborhood outside Manchester quite happy with everything he had. He was unaware that his parents considered him a miracle baby, and even further unaware that he was being watched closely by them to see if he showed any signs of magic. He knew his mum was a witch, that couldn’t be hidden, but he never was of the mind that he possibly wasn’t a wizard. He didn’t know that was even a question, but so it was. 

He did know at some point though that he was a late bloomer with it. His mum spoke of how young her accidental magic began, and he noticed some of his friends he made showing their accidental magic young too. But not him. No, it didn’t appear until he was almost starting to understand why his parents questioned it all so much. They’d begun to even prepare him for the fact that maybe he’d taken after his father. In their view, the odds of him going so long with no signs were slim to none. 

It took nine years, but a sneeze revealed that, indeed, he’d been chosen. 

When he got to Hogwarts, he was sorted into Ravenclaw and decided that this was a sign to show that even though he’d been late to show his magic, he was going to harness it to the best of his ability. Somehow, some way, Atticus managed to balance making friends, being the life of the party, and always looking to get up to something with excelling at every subject he put his mind to. He spent just as many hours studying as he did sneaking out, which led to many nights of sliding into bed at 4:30 AM just to roll up for breakfast two hours later as if he’d gotten 12 hours rest. 

By the time he graduated, he was quite a talent and many believed that he had within him the power to do great things. His magical skills were revered by professors and peers, and his sharp mind was praised right alongside it. 

However, there was a great deal of skepticism that entered the fold when he turned his eyes on the upper limits of the Ministry of Magic. 

None doubted that he could do it, but many doubted it was possible for a half-blood to ascend to the high places he wished to perch. While it was better than being a Muggleborn, the fact that he wasn’t as pure as could be represented a barrier of entry that everyone but him seemed to take note of. He was unphased though, finding his skills to be more than enough. 

At eighteen, he began working at the Ministry as a lowly assistant to a slightly less lowly secretary in the Auror office. 

By twenty, he was working as the main secretary for one of the Auror department’s sub-departments

By twenty three, he’d graduated to being a record keeper for the Wizengamot. 

By twenty-five, he was working as an assistant to various members of the Department of Mysteries. 

By twenty-seven he was back to being a lowly underling assistant, but this time to the Minister’s junior advisors. 

By thirty, he was waiting in the wings as a junior secretary. 

In January of 1969, five months shy of his thirty-second birthday, the Minister had seen all of his promise and decided that he was the man who would undertake the recently vacated position of senior undersecretary. 

He had once more defied the odds and climbed from the bottom up to one of the highest ranking positions in the Ministry of Magic. 

Many were shocked, but to him, it had always been rather inevitable. 


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:
Diagon Alley this time of year was typically nothing short of a zoo. And yet, it was truly no sweat to Atticus as he stepped onto the high street.

He was used to this sort of thing. Everywhere he went now, there were throngs of people who demanded attention, a moment of his time, had a question for his boss, or a request of his office. He was not blessed with moments alone anymore. Once you were the last obstacle between someone and the Minister of Magic, you forfeited every right you had to a moment alone. At least in Diagon Alley there was no demanding his attention.

The look on some people’s faces as they passed by didn’t broadcast that he was anonymous by any means, but he was being mostly left to himself. He was silently thankful for it, planning to just get what he needed and get going. He had a rare day off ahead and wanted to go ahead and get to relaxing to make the most of it. He was steadfast in this plan until he heard a voice calling above the crowd.

The help came from a woman on the ground looking rather exhausted and distraught all at once. It wasn’t hard to see what happened once he got a look at the scene in front of him. Calmly, he made his way over to her. He nodded toward the ground and a space was cleared for him to pick her heel up. Then, he turned his attention to her to hold a hand out.

“Are you alright?”

OTHER
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[Willow Foxglove]

Approved!