Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Viktor Hildebrand
Gender: Male
Age: 37 in 1963
Blood Status: Pureblood

Education:
Private tutelage

Residence:
Russia

Occupation
Lawyer & Entrepreneur

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?
Nope

Requested Magic Levels:

• Charms: 8
• Divination: 12
• Transfiguration: 6
• Summoning: 6

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

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Micheal, Martin, Elizabeth, Amaryllis

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
It wasn't his life; it was his duty.

It was a duty to himself.

To himself and all of his inferiors. And there were quite a few—a world of them.

Possibly an insurmountable task, Viktor had made his decision long ago. As long as his family didn't get in his way, he would continue with his efforts to carve a name for himself. Of course, he didn't expect subversion from his immediate family. But the old man was a different story. Some feeble-minded dream that seemed to strengthen the man's resolve the closer he came to expiration. Viktor still wondered at precisely what one of the eldest of the clan was doing to extend his years, though such curiosity hadn't grown enough to do the unthinkable. To ask.

Viktor wasn't a man to waste time on quaint ideas, which included wasting his breath on the head of the Taylor family. He had no patience for old-fashioned nonsense. He wanted his line to bend toward success, and he didn't need the merging of families to do it. He just needed time.

Despite his goal, however, his duty to the clan would remain a distraction. Purposeful. In its way, but a distraction nonetheless. That link to family expectation still outweighed the obligations he held at his core but knew better than to turn his back on the Taylors, for they had their place. They had their place, and he would leverage them as he leveraged everyone.

Viktor thought of himself as a radiant person. He had friends that spanned the world. He had cultivated relationships on his own that did not loop back to the Hildebrands. Using what his family had given freely, he'd educated himself in a myriad of subjects. But he always fell back on Law. The simple truth was that a man could accomplish far more if he knew the rules by which most men limited themselves. Viktor had traveled the world, enjoying the simple fruits of humanity. He had presented himself as a confidante among his line of relatives. He had played the many games that his Taylor relatives presented him with. Indeed he was ready to take a seat at the table.

Unfortunately, his latest task had been the most demeaning yet. It leveraged neither his education nor his prowess. It had required nothing of him but his smile. He was but a piece of meat in their eyes. The entire exercise had been degrading... and yet. Was she worth the trouble?

Her curious nature. That thrilling crack in her mind. The frailty and the strength.

A challenge to hold on to. A risk to letting her go. The game to be played still.

He hadn't failed. He had taken a mercurial path toward success. And he would succeed, he always did.

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:
Newspapers had their place. Reporters a necessary evil. Egos went hand in hand. If he wasn’t mistaken, the poor little thing he’d been watching was having her ego tested. He was enjoying every minute of it. Anything to hold at bay the doldrums of a wasted day. Viktor wasn’t accustomed to meandering periods, but his ventures had taken a turn. He would call London home for a time. A short time if he had any say in it.

The woman had offered a pleasing vision of exasperation and vague beauty. Not a bad combination. He preferred a touch more frustration, but he couldn’t be picky. She’d doggedly scanned the crowd for a target and Viktor had made sure to fade between positions and moving bodies when her sights were aimed in his direction.

Upon giving up, Viktor had a notion to strike up a conversation, but he watched until she stood up. She was giving in. Pity. Yet just as he struggled with the idea of turning his sights on some other undeserving soul, she pivoted into the definition of a lady in distress.

Lovely! It took him only a few moments to cut through the crowd and extend his hand. “Come, my dear, up and away from this rabble.” The offer came with his most disarming smile, the heaviness of his accent softened by way of the simplicity of the offer and a seeming youthfulness to his stance. 


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