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Topics - Nicholas Corvus Viggano

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Archived Applications / Nic Viggano
« on: 07/04/2019 at 21:29 »

Application for Hogwarts School


Name: Nicholas Corvus Viggano

Birthday: 8 September 1940

Hometown: London


Magical Strength (pick one):

Magical Weakness (pick one):
Conjuring & Summoning

Year (pick two):
5th, 4th

There was a comfort about the walls of Salem. A fake comfort. An odd one, because of the immense distance between this home in America and the one back in London. A comfort with friends he had gotten used to, with a life that was predictable, views that were familiar around every turn.

Oz had told loads about Hogwarts, but Nic had never quite felt the need to go there. His father and mother had spoken about Hogwarts in awe, but Nic already had his place and he felt no immediate need to expand on his experience. Not that he lacked the desire for adventure - those who knew Nicholas would know that there were few others who went about exploring the world as thoroughly and systematically as he would, reaching out in quiet to turn every rock with uttermost carefulness, to stroke his fingers softly against every surface, be it stone or moss or cold, liquid water.

If there was anything that Nic appreciated, it was the possibility of returning to something that was safe and warm and stable.

And so it was with great irony that he had been sent to the States, though perhaps his soul was older than he was. Perhaps it was the luxurious life of his Viggano grandparents (as well as the extreme contrast of their life compared to that of his other grandparent, Marcus Vega Sr.) and the possibility of disappearing into silken pillows that had drawn him to life in the USA. Everything was bigger there, grand and square and monumental, in comparison to the old English brick.

And yet, it was the English brick that returned him home. English brick in the form of parents that wanted him closer, that wanted the brothers to watch out for each other and - perhaps more importantly - for their younger sister. Parents that also required warmth and closeness and a Feeling of Family. Recognising that the grandparents were Getting Old, carrying so much responsibility already, heading the Viggano family - they had other businesses to run and it had been meant that they should be the ones to hold the primary care for the teenage Viggano.

He had not protested.

He just did not quite fancy the idea of having to start anew. To abandon Rook Society, exchanging his pieces of chess for little pictures of lions, eagles, snakes or badgers. With two parents having passed through the Slytherin house (though strangely non-elitist and rebellious in all things green-and-silver) and a Brother Raven, it was hard not to let the mind wander to what colour would suit him best, now that it was turning into Reality all of a sudden.

And yet he was at loss, with this uneasy gut feeling that came with changing locations and abandoning friends. Donning new black robes, in perfect quality and with Love of Mother in its seams -

His steps were slightly hesitant and the looks he cast around were awkward, but never-the-less they brought him forward with a certain steadiness. Hidden underneath his robes was a jar of bugs - a fascination he had carried since he was little that had never quite ended, he could stare at the little moving creatures for hours and found himself immensely fascinated by the transformational phases through which they passed - in his right pocket a pair of white mice, their little pink feet tickling against the skin of his palm.

And with that, he found the familiarity, the safety that he needed, in order to be able to handle the move.

Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.

House Request: Sort!

Kind, honest, a bit held back, slightly anxious, but likes other people very much and can quickly come to care about them on a deeper level. Some of his strengths are to be found in cleverness and curiosity in other people and the world at large. He is shy of conflict and is quite likely to be the first person to back out when feeling threatened. Sadly this also makes it very hard for him to stand up for his friends - he is a carer, not a fighter.

He wouldn't have the guts to make the first move in a romantic setting, but he is a fierceful romantic and a dreamer at heart.

Nic looks most like his father, brown haired and brown eyed, in stark contrast to his redhead brother, sister and mother. He has the general look of a teenager in growth, lanky and just slightly above average height. He is neat and clean and really quite tidy, and tends to give the impression that he comes from a properly furnished home (in truth he is probably the tidiest person in his immediate family as the rest of them tend to be a bit all over the place). Nic is not particularly muscular or strong and comes accross more as the bookish sort than the athlete, though he doesn't mind playing Seeker for Quidditch.


Option I:

"Flicker," he whispered.

It was possible that Nic was the only person in the world to whisper someone's name when searching for them - for anyone else shouting might have been the way to go about it, but Nic was used to doing the soft approach. Besides, when it was about creatures and - in this case - rather small creatures - soft was always better.

Nic knew this from years of experience with picking up and befriending little creatures.

It was harder with the big ones. They tended to scare him a bit. Which made soft approaches a lot harder.

"Fliiickeeer," he whispered again.

Nibbles rummaged around his pocket, looking for his friend, and then there was a different sound --

"Hello! Is Emma Birch here?"

Nic jumped where he was squatting

Suddenly he got extremely self conscious.

Looking down at the neatly folded sleeves of his shirt he could feel his face go warm. If someone could see him in the dull light they'd find that his face had gone from a smooth thought slightly freckled cream to tomato, to deep scarlet.


Did she think he looked like a girl?

Instead of answering, Nicholas felt a growing need to change something. He'd have to get a hair cut - at this length it just didn't lay right.

Staying completely still, he hoped that he would become invisible against the wall so that the other person would just pass him by. Although his mind was already reaching the conclusion that since he'd already been called Emma that probably wasn't going to happen.


Please list any characters you have  on the site (current and previous): Altair et al.

How did you find us?: I was always here ;)

Elsewhere Accepted / Nic Viggano
« on: 07/08/2016 at 22:16 »
E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

Character Name: Nicholas Corvus Viggano

Gender: Male

Age: Eight (born 8 September 1940)


Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?):
Catharina Adhara Eir Viggano and Frank Oswald Viggano Jr. - both are played!

With mommy and daddy! London I think.

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?
Maybe, possibly? Brother Oswald will be coming along shortly too!

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
I just want to be a child. In my family. With my brother.

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Marcus Altair et. al.

Biography: (100 words minimum.)

They were really awesome.

He had a dor beetle, a ladybug, two wood lice, three ants, and a blue butterfly, all fluttering and crawling and traipsing about his glass jar. At the bottom was a fine layer of soft, moist, dark mould. The walls of their encagement were transparent, and strangely clean taking into consideration its inhabitants.

On the outside was a little boy of eight. His body was lying flat on the ground, elbows down, palms up to cup his jaw in his hands as he watched, in deep concentration.

He liked to watch them moving about, to watch them crawling on top of each other. Six legs, eight legs, ten legs, fiddling about. So colourful - green and blue and red and brown, he could study the linings of their wings forever, little separated fields of golden transparency, so random yet still so locked in perfection.

Crawling, crawling, crawling.

From somewhere came the meowing of a cat, and he turned his head to meet its eyes. It looked at him briefly before strolling over to lie down and push its body against his, nestling by his side in comfortable warmth. A small hand found its fur, stroking gently, as his eyes refound the jar.

Crawling, crawling.

Only the bugs were making a sound in the blessed silence, joined only by the purring cat. Somewhere from the inside came a the clanking sound of brass pots.

He imagined it - being a blue and green beetle, lifting his black covers to release a pair of see-through wings. Buzzing about the world. And he imagined it - himself in the suit of a cat, making his way on soundless feet, softly against a stony surface. He could've been them, both of them.

Then, the raising ears of the cat, peaking toward the sky, reacting to something yet for the rest of them to notice.

A dark-headed hair, a wide grin.

Nicholas was up on his feet in seconds, running quickly, and jumping swiftly into the arms of the new arrival, laughter twinkling from his eyes and his chest and his mouth.


Reply as your character to the following:

Godric Park.

Overhead, the sky was a crisp blue, for once clear of the ever-pervasive spongy clouds and rain. The sun was a lemony-yellow presence, high in the Eastern sky, and in front of it zipped three broomsticks in a straight line, or something very like one. One... two..... three... the boys passed, their shouts of excitement echoing as they chased the snitch, a tiny shimmer reflecting the sunlight.

Far below was another, much smaller broomstick.

It trugged along the ground, hugging close to it like a sluggish choo choo train and occasionally shuttering in protest. This was because said stick was currently being occupied by a very small girl who was tugging upward on the front of it with all her might, trying to coax it into doing what it had been expressly designed NOT to do.

"John, I said wait up!" The tiny girl squealed, giving the broomstick another tug.

Begrudgingly, it drifted upward a foot, and then sank, depositing the troublesome girl safely on the ground. Janey Hurst was not pleased. In a huff, she hopped off the toy safety broom, grabbing it firmly and thrusting it handle first into the turf.

Her brother was such a beast. He NEVER let her play! She folded her arms, seething blue eyes fixing on another figure nearby.  "You!" She barked, much more sharply than she meant to.

"...Do you want to play?"

Roleplay Response:
Type your response here.

He'd been watching, somewhat from the distance, evaluating the situation. Back home he had a play broom of his own, although Ozzy always appeared to be the one most in control of it - Nic was more careful, planning out his moves in more detail. He'd try too, but he wanted to do so when the others weren't watching, so that he could gain some sort of skill before they even knew he'd made his attempt.

He didn't want to be judged too harshly.

Then again, the experts were his brother, his father, even his mother had been a seeker at the Slytherin Quidditch team when she was young. But they were so enthusiastic, espcially his parents, for one reason or another, and sometimes it was a little too much.

He'd leave the others around - the girl, and what might be her big brother. He recognised the situation, because Ozzy was oldest and he'd always be better. Nic would just strive to follow, although he admired Ozzy in everything that he did. And he'd turned to walk away, to go explore by the trees where there had to be bugs that he could study when -

"You! ...Do you want to play?"

He stopped in his tracked, looked at her, turned around to see whether she could be talking to someone else. Now, he'd been singled out. And then he smiled, a wide, bright smile that was reflected in his eyes.


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