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Elsewhere Accepted / Adrian Beauchamp
« on: 06/02/2013 at 01:35 »
E L S E W H E R E A D U L T
CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Adrian Beauchamp
Gender: Male
Age: 47
Education:
Beauxbatons, Class of 1908
Residence:
Beauchamp Estate, Cornwall
Occupation:**If you are planning to work at St. Mungo's, please fill out the St. Mungo's application here instead.
Wizengamot
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?
No
Requested Magic Levels: (see here on how to do this)
If you want levels above the usual 32 total, please fill out and submit the Special Request form here.
- Charms: 10
- Transfiguration: 7
- Divination: 7
- Summoning: 8
No, thanks!
Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Darcy Audley Et Al.
Biography: (300 words minimum.)
Adrian Beauchamp is a person who could easily be defined by his bad habits; He reads The Prophet at the table, he smokes cigars, he has to be told certain things two, sometimes three times. He’s impatient; and he never paid enough attention to his children because they were loud and whiny and one of them, he feared, was sure to be missing something vitally important to be able to survive adult-hood. (He’d tried; early-morning fishing trips would leave him red-faced and irritable because his sons were like hurricanes in their play-fighting and thunder in their noise; and he didn’t have much in common with his daughter, because, well, she was a girl.)
He could count his hobbies on one hand - he enjoys gambling, and in his teenage years somehow managed to lose a broomstick to his Beauxbaton’s Dorm-mate during a game of poker (and that, sadly, wasn’t the worst of it), but of course he’ll never tell his children about that little adventure. Fishing, but his job is time-consuming and it’s been a while since he’s abandoned his Wizengamot or Office Robes in favour of more casual-wear. He reads the newspaper only to stay current, and doesn’t take pleasure in current affairs and politics the way that a man should. He does his jobs only because they need doing, and he had a duty to his Family - ever present in the French Ministry - to be their spokesperson in the British Ministry.
But there’s more to Adrian than his bad habits. The part not seen by the every-day acquaintance. He’s loyal and loving in his core, especially to his wife, Jenay, which whom he was soon to celebrate their 30th anniversary. He took good care of his wife, he liked to think. He’d been faithful, even through the hard times of post-natal depression and the ‘empty nest syndrome’ they’d both had to bear the brunt of. Better, he never mentioned to Jenay how hard it had been to see her suffer or sad, and when he’d realised that chucking a quidditch around with the kids or otherwise occupying them for a few hours of bonding made her happy, he’d sucked it up, loosened his tie, and darn well done it for her.
He loved his children, too, despite his slight neglect. He just simply struggled to understand them; it had been over 30 years since he’d really felt like a teenager and children, he’d quickly realized, after coming home from a long day in the office to the crying of whatever child (He’d suggested a nanny, but his wife had been adamant that she didn’t want one), to a table set for two by the house-elves but occupied only by himself, were exhausting.
He was a good son and nephew, too. Christmases were spent not at his own home, where he’d much rather be, cigar and scotch in hand and the heat of the fire crackling along as he sat in his chair, but at his Mother’s, or at his Brothers, or at his Aunt Hera’s. In this way, he was often silently unselfish.
Ultimately, Adrian Beauchamp is a good man.
But sometimes even good men have to do questionable things.
Roleplay: (If you are requesting Exceptional levels - above 32 total - please respond to the roleplay and questions here instead)
Roleplay Response:
The tug at his robes was so gentle it was a surprise that he felt it, and a slight panic started to rise in Adrian's chest as he looked down at the (snooty, messy, unruly) scared child and her puffskin. He stayed put, for a moment, frozen, unsure of what to do. His wife would know, but she was at home, or at one of her charity meets, or -
Well, she wasn't there, she wasn't with him.
He had a packet tucked under his arm - square shaped and wrapped in crinkled parcel paper, held together by string. From it's appearance, one could tell that it'd already been opened, perhaps checked, before rather carelessly being re-wrapped. Despite the state of it, one couldn't see what it was in the light, let alone in the dark.
It must be late, he realised. Had he really been in there that long? There was something about the flicking sound of shuffling cards, the dimmed lights, the air, which was heavy and thick with the scent of tobacco smoke and assorted spirits. Had there been a clock, he still would've neglected to look at it.
After a moment of consideration - this was definitely no place for a girl, and he doubted she belonged to the group of (now rather frustrated) men he'd just left - he bent down to the girl's level, and re-adjusted the package out of (harm's way) her reach.
"What's your name, Kid?"
OTHER
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