E L S E W H E R E A D U L T
CHARACTER INFORMATIONCharacter Name: Timone Patrick MontroseGender: MaleAge: 18Education: HomeschooledResidence: North America (main); England (temporary)Occupation
Unemployed
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?
N/A
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: 12
- Divination: 7
- Transfiguration: 6
- Summoning: 7
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason? N/APlease list any other characters you already have at the site:Ivory Calin, et al.Biography: (300 words minimum.)Unbelievable.
It was just his luck. The borders had closed just a week after their arrival to England, only a few days before they were supposed to depart for America.
And now they were trapped.
Timone inhaled deeply, running a hand through his messy brown hair. There were so many things running through his mind. He needed to find a job, be able to support he and his sister, discuss the matter of maybe renting an apartment with his grandparents, contact his parents...
Sure, it was great of his grandparents Shirley and Edna to let he and Mabel stay at their manor in London. But it was so uncomfortable. Both were elitists, and while Edna disliked the fact that her grandchildren were half breeds, she was too kind to say anything.
Shirley on the other hand...well, his distaste was very, very apparent. He was sternly formal with both of them, he acted around Timone and Mabel the way one would act around strangers. And it drove Timone crazy. He had always craved his grandfather's approval, but it hadn't been until he had reached the tender age of seventeen that he accepted the reality of the situation. His grandfather just didn't love either of them.
So, needless to say, there was no way he was going to let them stay with their family. At least, not if he had the power to change it. There was no telling how long the war would last, and he didn't want to spend years of his life miserable.
And he definitely didn't want to see his little sister suffer either. There was no one more important to him than Mabel, and he was not going to see her suffer because of the close-mindedness of their family.
He slumped back in his comfortable chair, surveying the guest room he was staying in.
Prim and proper, just like everything else in the house.
Figures.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:Timone's brown eyes looked about, attempting to poke his head above the crowd to look for his sister. It was only natural that he and his younger sister, Mabel would eat lunch together, with the little money he was given by his grandparents on their trip to England to visit their aunt's side of the family.
The Devlins were easily made an envious bunch, a tight knit family that was loving and caring. Or that's at least what he thought. In the unknown reality, the Devlins weren't too tight-knit, many problems arising and staying in place. It was only natural to attempt at hiding it, right? Well they did a great enough to hide it from the second cousins' from abroad.
The brown haired male was only about to sit down before hearing a cry..in what sounded like pain. Would he be helpful today? After all, he was
stuck in England. He ventured over while hearing “Merlin’s fog watch, my heel is broken! Help!” and it made him walk a little faster. He bent over, squatting beside her as people rushed by. He held out a hand for her. "Think you can get up?" he asked, his Southern American accent pushing greatly.OTHERHow did you find us?
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