Welcome to Hogwarts School :: A Harry Potter RPG! It's 1970!


This section allows you to view all posts made by this member. Note that you can only see posts made in areas you currently have access to.

Topics - Timothy Vartan

Pages: [1]
Archived Applications / Bellame Kavanagh
« on: 02/01/2012 at 21:45 »
Name: Bellame Reid Kavanagh
No positive nicknames as of yet, but his older brothers call him ‘Bell’ or ‘Bella’ to get him riled up. Frequently he introduces himself with his middle name, Reid, to strangers or to people he doesn’t trust at first.

Former Character's Name (if you had one): I didn’t play him often enough to be remembered, but Edwin Sharlow was my forgotten baby.

House Request: Gryffindor
Knowing nothing about any of the magical houses, he didn’t know what to expect. He already felt a little out of place here, and his knees buckled several times on his way up toward the sorting hat. Was this decision, made by a hat, going to determine the rest of his life? Was this moment really that important? He sat down and winced as the hat was placed upon his hat, petrified once it started talking to him, mulling over the possibilities. There was potential for Slytherin, but not much. Same with Ravenclaw, he was smart, but not quite there. He seemed loyal as a pup, but something was off, Hufflepuff didn’t sound right either. But Gryffindor... ‘That’s the house for strong, brave people. I don’t belong there.’ His eyes started to water at the thought of having to sit next to all the other boys and girls clad in crimson and gold, becoming their foil and being made fun of for being so timid and weak. The Sorting Hat, as if listening in on the boy’s thoughts and spiting him, bellowed, ‘GRYFFINDOR!’
It was a long, painful walk over to the table, but he couldn’t help but notice the students were cheering. He didn’t understand why, but suddenly he found himself smiling. 

Year:  First, Second.

Bloodline: Muggleborn

Magical Strength (pick one):  Transfiguration
Interesting that he’s most comfortable with these spells, being a muggleborn and all, since they are usually the most difficult.

Magical Weakness (pick one): Charms

Bellame Kavanagh was always the runt in his family, but his mother seemed to love him most until she passed away when he was seven. His father tries his best to involve him in the family farm, but his three older sons are much more able to help him. Even before the news came that Bellame was a wizard he felt isolated and a little lonely, but he tolerated it by telling himself there was still a chance that he could have a growth-spurt and become strong like the rest of his family. Now that he’s enrolled in Hogwarts, however, his brothers avoid him even more, and his father hardly talks to him.

It may seem strange and illogical, but he hates his deceased great-grandmother more than anyone, mostly because the senile old woman gave him his girly name. Unbeknownst to the boy now, though, she was a Squib, too. So not only is he made fun of because of her in the Muggle world for his name, but it’s her barely-magical blood that jumped generations and made him so strange while the rest of his immediate family are strong, hearty, ‘normal’ muggles.

It’s safe to say that he is very vulnerable and touchy when it comes to being a wizard, and it will take a little work before he realizes his powers are a blessing and not a terrible curse.
Shy, easily embarrassed, introverted in the sense that he doesn’t talk much, but would much rather be surrounded by people than left alone. He has an almost dangerous sense of curiosity and, while he still doesn’t like that being a wizard furthers himself from his family, he soaks up every bit of magical information he can. It’s dangerous because he doesn’t understand that some things are best left alone, and more often than not he will probably end up in the Hospital Wing or in trouble for snooping too much.
He doesn’t deal with bullies well, he just kind of rolls over and takes it. It hurts him, but he would rather not fight if he can avoid it. If anyone close to him gets hurt, however, the timid boy seems to disappear (along with his common sense) and nothing else matters except for protecting the other person. He’s loyal to a fault. 

Short and messy dark brown hair, which he assumes will lighten up as he gets older like his brothers’. Olive green eyes, which are more often than not watering for whatever reason. He cries very easily, which doesn’t help the fact that he flusters easily as well. He’s tall for his age, but comparatively speaking he will only grow to be an average height. He’s a lanky boy with little to no muscle.

“Oh, come now!"

Astrid Bixby’s voice carried down the corridor, the tall blonde girl not far behind. Her interviewee – or victim, depending on perspective – turned a corner and she frowned. They were always so elusive when she needed them. Sure, they would talk as if there was no tomorrow during class, but once she actually needed them to say something, they were nowhere to be found. Gryffindors.

Flustered, Astrid stopped in the middle of the corridor and stared, her parchment hanging limply from her hand. She was a good reporter, really, and she always did her best to make sure that everything she wrote was accurate. She glanced down to the quill, eyeing it with disdain. It wasn’t her fault if her quill misquoted. How was she supposed to know? It made for interesting articles, at least, and if she had misquoted the Head Boy last term as saying he had a love for stuffed animals, then that gave him personality. Astrid sighed.

A pout formed on her lips as she turned away, discouraged. The corridor was mercifully empty, though the doors to The Spellbound – the school newspaper – were ominously closed. Corbridge was a mercifully sweet editor, but Astrid was terrified of disappointing her all the same. She had to come back with quotes.
Her eyes, blue, trailed her surroundings before choosing a new path, and she turned down a new corridor. A figure was ahead, and her eyes lit up, an impossibly rosy smile blossoming across her lips.

“Hey!” Astrid called, her voice light and singsong. She trotted to catch the person, her shoes clicking on the stone floor. “Wait up! It’s for the paper!” Her legs aided her admittedly poor running, and Astrid gasped as she came closer. “What do you think about serving frog legs at lunch? Some say it’s a delicacy, but others think it’s plain gross.”

Sample Roleplay Response:
   The time between classes passed so slowly for the mousy young boy, unless of course he buried his nose in a book, so in order to pass the time he found himself alone in the library more often than his Common Room or even bed. Bellame realized that always reading didn’t exactly leave a lot of room for socializing and making friends, but that didn’t bother him. Having no contact was much better than even the slightest awkward or hostile contact with anyone. It may seem illogical, but he didn’t care.

‘A Children’s Anthology of Monsters’ was his book of choice today. It was common for him to end up reading the books many students may have read when they were younger, which only made him nervous and wary of being teased about it, but he had to start somewhere! Knowing these things really existed somewhere fascinated him and left him completely engulfed in the book even after he had gotten up and began slowly heading toward his next class. Reading in the halls meant bumping into quite a few people and quite a few mumbled apologies, but this time the path was fairly clear. It was nice, not having to dodge too many bodies, but Bellame was a fool to let his guard down.

“Hey! Wait up, it’s for the paper!” The boy jumped, slammed the book without marking his page and immediately shuffled closer to the nearest wall, assuming the click-clacking of those shoes would speed right past him in order to catch up to whoever it was they were after. He didn’t bother to think this girl was after his opinion.

“W-What? Me? F-frogs legs...?” The boy squeaked awkwardly, visibly turning pale at the question. He stayed silent for a while, eyes avoiding the interrogator as he tried to think of a sound response. “Well...in some fairy tales frogs were princes with a spell cast on them, right? And girls kissed them to turn them back? S-so...I couldn’t be able to eat frogs legs without worrying if they used to be a Prince...” he knew what he was saying was nonsense, but for whatever reason he couldn’t shut up. “Maybe that’s why frog legs are a d-delicacy in some places- because they’re actually royal guys from other countries or something. Wouldn’t that be horrible? S-so...unless they have some sort of crazy good nutritional value or something, I’d rather not e-eat them...I guess.” he shrugged and glanced up at the girl, cheeks burning.

Pages: [1]