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Elsewhere Accepted / Julian Michael Cross
« on: 26/10/2012 at 07:10 »

E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

Character Name: Julian Michael Cross
Gender: Male
Age: 18, January 12th 1919

St. Cecilia's Orphanage, 1927-1930
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Ravenclaw ‘36

Clybourne Court, 02-A, London

Occupation:**If you are planning to work at St. Mungo's, please fill out the St. Mungo's application here instead.
Junior Member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad

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?

Requested Magic Levels: (see here on how to do this)
If you want levels above the usual 32 total, please read the roleplay instructions carefully upon scrolling down.
Levels Graduated with:
  • Charms: 7
  • Transfiguration: 7
  • Divination: 8
  • Summoning: 7
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Thalia G, Sera M. and a few.

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
He didn’t know what to think of humanity.

In retrospect, and if he were cynical enough, the subject wouldn’t have fared very well in his eyes, the definition would’ve earned a scathing remark, a curse word, or a cold shoulder. Furthermore if he were looking upon its root word, humans – he still cringed at the thought, yes, even now- one could say that his opinion of them had remained, to an extent, unchanged.

Of course, the term persisted to be subjective. Subjective to what, exactly, would take another a long day of rumination. Today was not the day to think of such things, however. He had not a mite of concern for those of lowly peerage, and mulling over them would only be a proper waste of time. He’d save that for a wearisome day, at work, for example. If he found one, that is.

Another hour ticked by, and Julian found himself biting back his own words. He had no choice. As he waited, his glorious grey matter had been left to rot with idleness – redeemed only when his mental opines reached upon a most delicate topic - fingers drumming a morbid tune on the armrest, complete staccatos to the tune of ‘Ode to Joy’. He refrained from muttering the I-word.

Interviews were such a chore, a blasphemous chore.

He shouldn’t need to do them, but even he, the great Julian Cross, had to deign himself to such measures, just to prove himself competent. He knew that he was sufficiently so, ergo, he loathed this manner of having to forfeit oneself for critical assessment. It was lowly, having your person be judged and approved by some idiot, just so he could sit behind a desk and perform repetitious tasks over and over again.

He didn’t mind, however.

As long as he had his name scrimshawed on a nameplate, not forgetting the opportunity to boss people around – he liked control, all of it – and took over as Head of Department.

A slow smile edged onto his lips. Oh, he could see it happening. Katie would be proud.

His sister was his truest emollient. Though he wasn’t nearly the man he wanted to be, if not for her, Julian would’ve ceased trying. She was all that he had left, when their parents seemed to have given up on them; he would do anything to make her happy. Sometimes, he thought himself a better man because of her, she brought out something in him that he never thought existed. Something he and his hubris both repulsed and held so very dear.

Since his graduation from Hogwarts, while he’d been wandering the streets of London, contemplative, aimless and lost, he’d decided to pursue his ambitions, just to assuage his boredom and be somewhat…productive? Even so, Katie would be pleased to hear that he was doing something with his time. 

Now, he lounged on a chaise; legs sprawled over the velveteen cushion, seemingly nonchalant. He couldn’t not wait.

The knob turned as a redhead poked her head through the ajar door and called for him.

It was time.

Roleplay: (If you are requesting Exceptional levels - above 32 total - please respond to the roleplay and questions here instead)
Reply as your character to the following:

It was impossible for Dianne to stay out of trouble. It wasn't that she was looking for trouble, it's just that trouble always managed to find her. Today she wished she could find something equally familiar but more comforting.

The five-year old girl hugged her puffskein closer to her and brushed her face in its soft fur for comfort. She had named him herself and he was always her special pet. No she was certain she had never gone down this side street before. Her anxiety increased every second as darkness fell as she walked down the road. A loud noise came to her left and she buried her face in her pet's fur completely. The scared girl bolted the opposite way slamming the both of them into the wall of the nearest building. Tottering back a few steps she found a door a few feet to her right and ran to open it. What light there was inside spilled out into the darkness and she spilled into the room.

Once in, she was caught between the impulse to curl her cloak up more tightly around her and loosen her grip on it. She wasn't alone anymore but she was now among strangers instead, which was nearly as terrifying. Her puffskein had recovered from the shock of the wall and now was purring contentedly as the girl hugged it, causing a mildly calming effect on the girl. Gathering her courage, she marched up to the nearest person, pulled on the nearest clothing hem and blurted out in a loud voice:

"I'm lost and it's dark and I wanted to know where I am but I'm not scared but I am worried that Sambundeakin is scared because he's little and needs something to eat and wants to go home."

She paused to draw a breath in her nearly never-ending sentence, "He misses my and his mommy."

To explain the scared girl held up the custard-colored puffskein. Sambundeakin the puffskein, however simply purred as if nothing on earth was wrong in the world.

Roleplay Response:
He was lost again.

It seemed like he always was, unfortunately, lost.

He wandered now, floating like a driftwood out on an open sea, buoyed by the waves, like he was with the people that milled around him. He couldn’t recognise the street he was on, the lights blurred and converged together, it distracted him. Merlin, he needed a drink.

And a drink was what he’d get.

He traipsed into a pub, smoothing his hair from his hat right after he sinked onto the nearest stool he could find. He hadn’t bothered to with the door, he wasn’t a bloody doorman. A finger raised in the air, he hailed a passing waitress, offered a wan smile, muttered his order: a shot of Firewhiskey.

As he steepled his hands on the counter, he felt a slight tugging on his his coat. He turned, a frown fixed upon his face, ready to snarl at the fool who’d disrupted his peace-

A little girl.

What was a child doing in a place such as this?

"I'm lost and it's dark and I wanted to know where I am but I'm not scared but I am worried that Sambundeakin is scared because he's little and needs something to eat and wants to go home."

Julian’s gaze softened, his frown slacked and was replaced by a tiny smile. They were both lost, somehow, Julian took comfort in the fact that he wasn’t the only one.

"He misses my and his mommy."

The young man looked down at the bundle of fur the girl had been cradling. Probably some sort of critter, her pet, perhaps. She was the very epitome of 'hopelessly lost', just as he had once been, rather, still was. Julian felt an odd twinge on his chest. It twisted mercilessly. It made him want to care.

“I don’t think I’m the right person you’d want to get help from, love. I’m just as lost as you are.” He chuckled lightly and snuck a glance at the child, hoping that he hadn’t been too harsh. He didn’t like tears, he never did know what to do with them. And if this child cried, he’d bolt.

“Sit here while I find someone who can help you.” added Julian gently, placating with her, patting the stool next to him. He wasn’t truly good with kids. He usually scared them off, didn’t he?

Fortunately for the girl, the waitress sashayed back towards his table, a shot of whiskey in her tray. He watched as her gaze slipped from him... to the child beside him. She'd be a fool if she'd considered associating him with the kid.

"Thank you," grunted Julian, his hand curling around the glass, shielding its contents from the girl. "Miss, before you go, could you please assist this child?"

His malachite gaze flicked towards the youngster, his other hand pushing a few galleons towards the waitress. He'd probably tripled her tip, more than enough.

"She and her little companion, Sambundeakin, is it? - seem to have gotten themselves lost in this area and... I suppose they would be needing some refreshments, as well." He swilled his drink, ice clinking sharply against the glass.

The sooner he got rid of this girl, the better.

"Put it on my tab."

He wasn't in the mood to feel sorry.

How did you find us? Google

Archived Applications / Julian Cross
« on: 14/12/2011 at 02:34 »

Name: Julian Michael Cross (Tibbles Beard of Power)

Former Character's Name (if you had one): Erathalia Gray XD. Whee, male character!

House Request:
No house in particular but please exclude Gryffindor.

Julian is neither chivalrous nor impulsive, he is not as sly and cunning as well. However, he does have a good head between his shoulders and an unsettling air of independence about him. Beneath his aloof and unfriendly disposition, he cares about how people felt about him and is fiercely protective of those he truly cares about. Most probably Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw.  Slytherin can also be a possibility since he thinks that most people his age are immature and are beneath him, plus he is a jerk.

6th year would be very much preferred although 5th will do, as well.


Magical Strength (pick one):

Magical Weakness (pick one):


The unmistakable creaking of the floor indicated something ominous. Julian knew this despite his tender age of 7. For a 7-year-old, he knew a lot of things that would’ve surpassed his adolescent years.  As he sat there at the top of the stairs, he could hear heavy feet stumbling across the floorboards; he knew then that someone was in the living room. Lights flickered on from downstairs, and a string of muttered curses could be heard echoing around the room, words that shouldn’t have been heard by a seven-year-old.

A glass bottle hit wall somewhere, making the young boy flinch before edging back farther into the darkness. Another empty bottle this week, joining the ranks of those that went before it… Julian made a note to clean it up later, glass shards were potentially dangerous for young feet to trample over. He knew this for he’d experienced the cutting pain himself.

He heard a distant sobbing coming from the living room, heart-wrenching sobs that would’ve racked the body. Amidst the audible crying, a name was uttered repeatedly in such an anguished manner. Evangeline. Oh…Evangeline. It was a name that he was all too familiar with.  His mother’s name.

 She’d died two years ago; November 27, 1961 to be exact, when he was barely five years old and Katie was just two.  It was also quite unfortunate of him to witness her death. It was a tragic picture… Katie had been crying uncontrollably from her cradle, piercing the deathly silence of the room. Julian had been studiously coloring the walls with a red crayon. All of a sudden, the crying stopped, and Julian had broken his crayon against the wall. At the age of five, his young mind was still grasping for information, but Julian somehow knew that something was wrong.

Instinctively, Julian had toddled over to his parents’ bedroom and witnessed a gross sight. His mother had been hanging from a makeshift noose from the ceiling, her pale feet dangling in the air. There was a look of horror on her face, her light green eyes, the very same eyes that Julian had, were rolled back towards the ceiling. His five year old self, just sat there crying…until his father came back from his apothecary in Diagon Alley, devastated by the sight. Those same words were uttered…

Evangeline… Oh, Evangeline…

And it’d been like that for those two years. His father, Ambrose, always came home from his job, stinking of spirits that he’d concocted himself to ease his pain. With the spirits, came the endless supply of liquor in the pantry and after those bottles were emptied, they ended up being smashed against the wall. It was routine, but the crying was a new element. Julian had never seen his father cry. He was a strong and capable man, but after his wife’s suicide, he had now deteriorated into this drunken state. He would come home at around sunset, reeking of alcohol, his senses muddled from too much liquor. In this stupor, Ambrose was unpredictable and dangerous, especially to a pair of siblings hiding upstairs.

Julian did his best to protect himself and his sister from Ambrose’s drunken alter ego. He was a brilliant thinker, much more so than kids around his age.  Through this self-learning, Julian adapted and became independent at such a young age. He took it upon himself to take care of his sister, Katie. He knew he could never rely on his drunkard of a father. Two years passed like a blur, they were two hard years of feeble independence.

Finally, Ambrose gave up on parenthood, leaving two children all alone in the middle of the night. The Crosses weren’t exactly a tight-knit family; their relatives minded their own business. They couldn’t even be bothered with two young children in need. As fate would have it, Julian, who was 9 years old then, decided to take matters into his small hands. He packed up their things and took what little money he had saved up from his gardening and odd jobs. The journey was brief and soon, Julian and Katie (now 6) found themselves in a secluded muggle town. Without a doubt, the muggles would have started noticing this odd and ragged-looking young pair, walking all alone on the cobbled street without an accompanying adult. And indeed, a matronly muggle woman took pity on them, insisting on taking them to the nearest to the nearest orphanage. Julian couldn’t do anything much to resist this opportunity, he and his sister would have not survived out on the streets with their meager resources. They needed shelter and food and he’d take whatever he was offered at the moment until he could find a better place for the two of them.

The orphanage was like any other place, only perhaps more forlorn and dilapidated. His sister seemed happy in the orphanage, as if she were normal like the other muggle kids. She fitted right in where he did not. Julian stayed away from these boisterous children, knowing that he was different from them. He believed he was special, different in a good way and that none of these children would understand him.  He was magically gifted. The other kids thought of him as an outcast, the quiet one who’d never joined them in their playground games.  Being children, they began to tease him and his weirdness. To Julian, they were the weird ones, having no spark of magic within them. Muggles were uninteresting beings.

Naturally, Julian learnt to fight back, not only verbally, but also physically. He was in no way going to disadvantage himself to these kids. Yes, he would fight back and get in trouble with the matron. It seems that he was always framed to be the perpetrator of these fights. Eventually, Julian built himself a wall, a thick ugly barrier between him and the world. Had his childhood been less traumatic, he probably wouldn’t be this way. 

When he turned 11, the housemother called him to her office. There sat at the desk opposite the matron, was an odd couple dressed in dark robes. Julian was suspicious of them, for they had a peculiar air about them, on the other hand, he felt like they were like him. Wizards. Still, Julian kept a defensive stance, his unblinking stare read distrust. After all, these strangers might drag them both back to their drunkard of a father once they figured that they were runaways. If that was the case, he was certainly not going without some resistance. However, the pair explained to the matron about Julian’s ‘gifts’ and they were enrolling him into a ‘special’ school. Of course, the matron agreed, albeit reluctantly. It was also around this time when the man handed him a Hogwart’s acceptance letter. However, Julian wasn’t the type to jump for joy. The first thing on his mind was his little sister. If he went to this school, they’d be surely separated. Who would look out for her then?

He voiced out his concerns and soon enough, Katie was brought into room with them. The two adults seemed to whisper to one another before coming into conclusion. Since Katie was still not of age to attend Hogwarts, they had arranged for the both of them to stay at one of their relatives. Julian was doubtful of this since they weren’t close to their kin. Still, it was better than having to live in a run-down orphanage.

Ever since he’d attended Hogwarts, Julian felt ‘at home’ (for lack of a better word), although he worries constantly about his sister. In addition, his personality is improving, if only slightly. He is still generally mean to most people, but really, he’s trying very hard to be nice.


Julian was born during the wee hours of January 12, 1956 in Remington, a Wizarding community just near London. (fictional place XD) His mother, Evangeline Cross (nee Richter) is deceased (committed suicide although the reasons are unclear) while his father’s whereabouts are currently unknown. Katie Cross, his 9 year-old sister, is possibly a squib (or is probably just a late bloomer) and is currently with some of their relatives. The Crosses are a pureblood family yet they are surprisingly insignificant in the Wizarding world and in the Ministry. Their family is very low-key which might be why Julian and his sister had managed to live with muggles for two years.


Julian proved to be a difficult child, being aloof , hard-headed, obnoxious and nonchalant and those characteristics may be what repelled his would-be foster parents. He finds it incredibly hard to relate with kids around his age. Julian is most often misunderstood by his peers and most adults/authority figures. He could be quite hostile towards others which don’t really make him many friends. This is probably because he treats everybody with contempt and with no regard for their feelings. There are times he’d just completely ignore their existence and become unresponsive. Perhaps, these characteristics of his developed due to his painful background, acting as a defense mechanism for the boy.
To outsiders he would seem to be a troubled boy with a dark past, with a nasty personality to boot. When he does communicate, his replies would be snarky and can sometimes sound life-threatening. His sarcasm pretty much spells out the fact that he hates the world but perhaps…it might be just to keep people away. For those who do manage to become friends with him, they might find themselves walking on eggshells around the boy. The 16 year old has trust issues and can be quite sensitive when his personal issues are being brought into the open. 

On the bright side, he cares deeply for those he is closest to, he is truly loyal and can get quite protective at times Despite his antagonistic attitude, he does regret some of his brash actions. Self-reflection is key for him. One thing that you have to admire about him is, he will try his best when he has a clear goal in mind. 

He is, in fact, a softie and like many a man, he has a weakness for good food, especially cake. He is in love with cake, regardless of the flavor but he most prefers for the frosting to be chocolate. He hates crowds and loud noises, but indulges in his solitude and until recently, stargazing. He likes to be right all the time because it makes him feel important and dominant. He hates having to show his weakness, and to be caught off-guard. 


Julian is quite tall, (6 ft 2) standing at eye level with most of the 6th and 7th years. He has a lean frame, with wide shoulders and narrow hips which he owes to swimming (and the occasional fighting), his fitness regime since he'd arrive at Hogwarts. He has a pale complexion as he doesn’t tan easily. He has an angular, slightly effeminate face, straight nose and thin lips. He keeps his light brown hair long, usually growing it until it reaches his nape. He has pale green eyes, which might appear grey-ish when viewed under different lights. He considers himself a decent looking guy, perhaps a bit rougish-like… although he doesn't boast about it or preen like a peacock.

You come across one of these three posts on the site. Please reply to one only as your character would.
*** Remember, you can only roleplay your own character's actions, not James' or Astrid's.

Option I:

Blimey, the Great Hall was packed. It seemed like everywhere a guy looked there was some clown waving around a House banner or yelling about the game.

'Can you believe it?' 'No way!' 'This must be the biggest upset in Hogwarts Quidditch history...'

Stupid Quidditch.

James flopped into an empty seat at the end of the table, shoved an empty plate out of the way, and let his head sink onto his crossed arms, squishing his freckled nose down flat against the tabletop. He wasn't sure why he'd even bothered to come here, since he definitely wasn't hungry. He'd probably never eat again, in fact. He didn'tdeserve to eat. He hadn't stopped in the locker room to change out of his muddy, sweaty uniform after the game either, because he was pretty sure he probably didn't deserve to be clean too; and anyway he couldn't stand to see the looks on his team mates' faces after he blew their chance at winning one of the biggest games they had ever played.

Just one lousy shot. That's all it would have taken. If he could have just got that one stupid foul shot to go through that one stupid hoop, they could have won and he wouldn't have been the biggest blockhead in the entire school.

As if to prove the point, half the people at the next table suddenly broke into a loud victory chant. James pressed his face further into his arms to hide the bright red blotches he could feel creeping up his cheeks. That was it. He was just going to have to run away and move to Nova Scotia. He'd just cost the three-year-in-a-row Champions the Quidditch Cup! How do you ever live that one down for crying out loud? He was only a second year and he was going to spend the rest of his life as 'that dumb cry-baby kid who dropped the Quaffle!'

It felt like every set of eyes in the room was boring into him, and James couldn't stand it anymore. He jerked himself back up from the table and stomped right back out of the Hall the same way he had come in. As he stormed into the quieter hallway outside, he could hear footsteps somewhere behind him. James rounded on the sound and began to shout, his brown eyes shining with tears. "WHAT! Haven't you ever seen a loser before? Why don't you just take a picture!"

Sample Roleplay Response:

Julian wasn’t in a particularly good mood today. Well, for most of the time, he was usually grumpy and moody. It was no surprise, even more so at a time such as this. While everybody was merry-making and toasting to success, Julian remained glum and stoic. He refused to partake in such frivolities; it was beneath him to do such things, anyway. Yet, there was that hollow feeling inside him, a feeling he knew all too well. It almost made him want to join them.

A Quidditch match had just ended and everybody was in a mood to party and celebrate. The great hall was awash with bright lights and decorative ornaments that represented the champion House.  He couldn’t be bothered with the sport, really. He never participated in anything that spelled fun. Most boys would be crazed about Quidditch, talking about the latest updates from their favorite teams, but not him. Yes, he was an unusual guy, one that didn’t like sports or parties. He sat wearily at his house table, trying to nurse his throbbing temple. All of this hullaballoo over a game was starting to give him a headache. He needed to get out of there. Fast.

Jerking out of his seat, Julian marched over towards the doors, trying to move as discreetly as possible. Not that he was scared of his House head noticing his absence; he didn’t even care about them. He just needed to escape to somewhere quiet.

Just as he reached the doors, a boy intercepted his path, standing between him and his freedom. With his patience running, Julian clenched his jaw, silently waiting for the boy to get a move on so that he could finally get out of that place. All of a sudden, the boy paused in mid-step, whirling around to face Julian.

"WHAT! Haven't you ever seen a loser before? Why don't you just take a picture!"

Eyes narrowed at the boy’s face, recognizing him as the miscreant that had supposedly dropped a quaffle during one crucial point in the Quidditch game, or so the rumors said. Whoever he was, the dark-haired boy couldn’t have cared less. Julian took a menacing step forward towards him, his face contorting into a smirk.

He didn’t like being shouted at. It reminded him of those kids at the orphanage where he’d stayed previously.  They taunted and mocked him because he was strange. Funny, he was supposed to be the one doing all the mocking.

“Look here, idiot. I don’t know what your problem is…” Julian inched closer to the boy until he was towering over him, he grabbed him by the collar to look him dead in the eye. The boy seemed to cower under his intimidating stance. “…but I’m afraid you picked the wrong bloke to piss, today. I suggest you watch that foul mouth of yours before my fist shuts it for you. Got that, you bloody moron?”

Julian stepped back, releasing the boy as his temple throbbed ever so painfully. Perhaps, he should cut this boy some slack. Surely, he had been humiliated enough.

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