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Messages - Aiden Claverwood
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1
« on: 21/02/2013 at 14:41 »
Application for Salem Institute
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.
Name: Richard Branstead
Birthday: November 15, 1923
Hometown: Newark, New Jersey
Bloodline: Pure-blood
Magical Strength: Transfiguration
Magical Weakness: Divination
Year (pick two): Freshman or Sophomore
Biography:
Richard Rolph Shay Branstead was the oldest, youngest, and only child of two fun-loving, young, pure-blood Americans. Abraham and Marie-June Branstead had met at the Salem Institute in 1910, Marie-June in Primary I, Abe in Primary II, both Knights. Marie-June had grown up on the outskirts of Trenton, New Jersey, Abe in rural Tennessee. Though their backgrounds were significantly contrary, and deciphering Abe’s strong southern drawl proved difficult, the two grew up as childhood friends-turned sweethearts-turned lovers. Post-graduation, the two moved back to Marie-June’s childhood home of New Jersey, and got jobs together in a local wizarding hospital. On November 15th, 1923, their child, Richard R. S. Branstead, was born.
Richard grew up in a wealthy state, living in a large home with large amounts of money, large amounts of food, and large amounts of opportunity. Though his parents treated muggle-born wizards and witches nearly every day, they, in his house, were regarded as less-than-noble. Or less-than-less-than noble. His mother and father highly valued their pure-blood status, and Richard was raised to dislike those who were less than he. Even half-bloods were socially discarded from conversations, as a muggle was included in their family line somewhere.
Richard loved his parents, and his parents loved him. They lived a happy, bigoted lifestyle, and Richard was raised with the tightest, most regulated etiquette you could imagine. ‘Please’ and ‘thank you’ were necessities, and Richard was raised to help others whenever possible, as long as they were worthy of his attention.
While hungrily and drowsily stepping down his winding stairs in the early morning, Richard slipped and fell, rolling bumpily down the staircase, and waking both his parents. Upon finding him unconscious but breathing, they immediately brought him to the hospital at which they both worked, and their son was treated.
However, neurological damage had been done, and Richard was diagnosed with Astasia-abasia, or Blocq’s disease. The disorder causes the inability to stand or walk normally, and those diagnosed with it commonly fall victim to severe swaying and sometimes appear as if they’re drunk.
The Bransteads were heartbroken. Their little boy, their little Richard, their little pure-blood. He couldn’t even walk. From that point on, Richard has always walked with a cane, and his self-confidence was severely damaged. That’s why, upon receiving the notification of Richard’s acceptance into Salem Institute, he was not excited as he had always dreamed he would be.
If he couldn’t walk right, how could he perform all the magic that he had always hoped to perform? How could he live up to his parents’ high expectations? It was a nightmare, but Richard went anyway. His parents promised he’d be fine, but they, too, were disappointed. It was not the way they had planned that day to occur.
→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.
Society Request: Pawn
Personality: Richard is, due to his lack of pride, a glum and solemn person. He rarely takes part in normal conversation, but, when he wants to make a point, he get increasingly outspoken. The thought of having a friend is completely alien to him; he has made acquaintances, but he always pushes them away. He despises anyone with a blood less than pure, and tries to stay away from those with positive attitudes, as they make him feel unworthy.
Appearance: Richard has chocolate-brown hair that usually is cut right behind the top of his ears. He has dark blue eyes that are usually more mellow and relaxed than he is himself. He’s quite lanky, stands (or tries to stand) at around 6’, and is not at all overweight. He usually wears dark clothes, as not to stand out, and tries his best to hide his face from the crowd. He rarely, if ever, smiles, and you’ll scarcely find a hint of emotion upon his face.
→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.Please reply to the Sample Roleplay below.
Richard sat lifelessly at the library table, his eyes barely dwindling behind their ever-so-softly closing lids. Such a quiet place, such a boring place. Such a lovely place. The minute tapping of his fingers on he and his partner’s table was magnified in such an empty space. It was a shame that the experience, which had the potential to be such a soothing experience, far away from any disturbances from other voices, was being ruined by the task that sat before him: working with a partner on an assignment.
Ugh, it was horrible. Textbooks were scattered as far as the studious eye could see, filled with words and pictures depicting the American Civil War that those idiot muggles got themselves into. How ironic was it that one of the notions that they were fighting over was the slavery of African-Americans, when really the slavery of muggles was a far more appealing and senseful aspect.
Richard’s partner, this Simon fellow, was flipping through the books, being far more productive than he. Richard chose to sit by and wait for his partner to speak up with some interesting epiphany on how to go about the research paper. He seemed busy enough, why disturb him, and risk getting into a conversation? Richard hated conversations.
For a moment, he felt like speaking up. Perhaps get a thought or two into this conversation just to make it seem like he did anything. But...he decided against it. He picked up a book and read the cover, quietly tossing it aside, an emotionless frown upon his face.
"How about I write the essay and stuff? You can just put your name on it. Sound good?"
Richard looked up, his face hidden in a veil of shadows, cast from the overbearing bookshelves and adjacent windows. His first reaction, was, of course, to take up the offer. He could get up, wobble out of the room, and be done with homework for the day. However, as he began to ponder the notion, he began to feel offended. Was this kid suggesting that he was inferior? That he was not able to partake in such an activity? He furrowed his eyebrows.
"Well, seeing as you have hardly even given me a chance to do anything whatsoever through this whole ordeal, I find it amusing that you're suggesting that I leave, and that you do all the work! I hate these goddamn group projects just as much as you do, but don't even try treating me like some moronic hitchhiker that you can just toss of the side of the road! What do you want me to do?"
He picked up a book: "Wars: Old and New" by Kevin Torvalt. "Here," Richard snapped, "I'm going to take this godforsaken book, and I'm going to read it. We are going to do this group project, okay? Okay." He opened the reading material, scanning through the endless lines of phrases and sentences. Sighing, he began to work.
→ ABOUT YOU.
Previous Characters (if applicable): Aiden Claverwood (Hogwarts)
How did you find us?: If I remember correctly, it was from the Google search: “Hogwarts” and/or “Harry Potter RPG”.
2
« on: 21/02/2013 at 03:11 »
Application for Salem Institute
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.
Name: Richard Branstead
Birthday: November 15, 1923
Hometown: Newark, New Jersey
Bloodline: Pure-blood
Magical Strength: Transfiguration
Magical Weakness: Divination
Year (pick two): Freshman or Sophomore
Biography:
Richard Rolph Shay Branstead was the oldest, youngest, and only child of two fun-loving, young, pure-blood Americans. Abraham and Marie-June Branstead had met at the Salem Institute in 1910, Marie-June in Primary I, Abe in Primary II, both Knights. Marie-June had grown up on the outskirts of Trenton, New Jersey, Abe in rural Tennessee. Though their backgrounds were significantly contrary, and deciphering Abe’s strong southern drawl proved difficult, the two grew up as childhood friends-turned sweethearts-turned lovers. Post-graduation, the two moved back to Marie-June’s childhood home of New Jersey, and got jobs together in a local wizarding hospital. On November 15th, 1923, their child, Richard R. S. Branstead, was born.
Richard grew up in a wealthy state, living in a large home with large amounts of money, large amounts of food, and large amounts of opportunity. Though his parents treated muggle-born wizards and witches nearly every day, they, in his house, were regarded as less-than-noble. Or less-than-less-than noble. His mother and father highly valued their pure-blood status, and Richard was raised to dislike those who were less than he. Even half-bloods were socially discarded from conversations, as a muggle was included in their family line somewhere.
Richard loved his parents, and his parents loved him. They lived a happy, bigoted lifestyle, and Richard was raised with the tightest, most regulated etiquette you could imagine. ‘Please’ and ‘thank you’ were necessities, and Richard was raised to help others whenever possible, as long as they were worthy of his attention.
While hungrily and drowsily stepping down his winding stairs in the early morning, Richard slipped and fell, rolling bumpily down the staircase, and waking both his parents. Upon finding him unconscious but breathing, they immediately brought him to the hospital at which they both worked, and their son was treated.
However, neurological damage had been done, and Richard was diagnosed with Astasia-abasia, or Blocq’s disease. The disorder causes the inability to stand or walk normally, and those diagnosed with it commonly fall victim to severe swaying and sometimes appear as if they’re drunk.
The Bransteads were heartbroken. Their little boy, their little Richard, their little pure-blood. He couldn’t even walk. From that point on, Richard has always walked with a cane, and his self-confidence was severely damaged. That’s why, upon receiving the notification of Richard’s acceptance into Salem Institute, he was not excited as he had always dreamed he would be.
If he couldn’t walk right, how could he perform all the magic that he had always hoped to perform? How could he live up to his parents’ high expectations? It was a nightmare, but Richard went anyway. His parents promised he’d be fine, but they, too, were disappointed. It was not the way they had planned that day to occur.
→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.
Society Request: Pawn
Personality: Richard is, due to his lack of pride, a glum and solemn person. He rarely converses with anyone but himself, and, the thought of having a friend is completely alien to him. He had made acquaintances, but he always pushes them away. He despises anyone with a blood less than pure, and tries to stay away from those with positive attitudes, as they make him feel unworthy.
Appearance: Richard has chocolate-brown hair that usually is cut right behind the top of his ears. He has dark blue eyes that are usually more mellow and relaxed than he is himself. He’s quite lanky, stands (or tries to stand) at around 6’, and is not at all overweight. He usually wears dark clothes, as not to stand out, and tries his best to hide his face from the crowd. He rarely, if ever, smiles, and you’ll scarcely find a hint of emotion upon his face.
→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.Please reply to the Sample Roleplay below.
Richard sat lifelessly at the library table, his eyes barely dwindling behind their ever-so-softly closing lids. Such a quiet place, such a boring place. Such a lovely place. The minute tapping of his fingers on he and his partner’s table was magnified in such an empty space. It was a shame that the experience, which had the potential to be such a soothing experience, far away from any disturbances from other voices, was being ruined by the task that sat before him: working with a partner on an assignment.
Ugh, it was horrible. Textbooks were scattered as far as the studious eye could see, filled with words and pictures depicting the American Civil War that those idiot muggles got themselves into. How ironic was it that one of the notions that they were fighting over was the slavery of African-Americans, when really the slavery of muggles was a far more appealing and senseful aspect.
Richard’s partner, this Simon fellow, was flipping through the books, being far more productive than he. Richard chose to sit by and wait for his partner to speak up with some interesting epiphany on how to go about the research paper. He seemed busy enough, why disturb him, and risk getting into a conversation? Richard hated conversations.
"How about I write the essay and stuff? You can just put your name on it. Sound good?"
Richard looked up, his face hidden beneath shadows from the bookshelves and windows adjacent. He refused to speak. Speaking could get him into a conversation. Rather, he took the god-given opportunity, and stood. He picked up his quill, quickly signed his name on the top of the parchment paper, grabbed his bags, gave a swift and curt nod, and turned around, quickly stepping away from the disastrous mountain of information. It was lovely, this miracle that had happened. He quietly and emotionlessly celebrated.
Time to go be unsocial and do nothing. Ah, how nice.
→ ABOUT YOU.
Previous Characters (if applicable): Aiden Claverwood (Hogwarts)
How did you find us?: If I remember correctly, it was from the Google search: “Hogwarts” and/or “Harry Potter RPG”.
3
« on: 14/12/2011 at 00:51 »
THE BASICS
Name: Aiden Claverwood
Former Character's Name (if you had one):
CHARACTER DETAILS
House Request:Slytherin: I believe Slytherin would be the perfect house for Aiden, because he is sly, cunning, and he hates sunlight and people. He had a rough childhood, and it took a toll on him, it caused him to completely detest humankind, and drove him into his own private world, where the black-haired boy can be alone with only himself. He had reached the point of insanity multiple times, but has reminded himself everytime that it is not worth it to hate your life, but to be grateful for what he has. Sadly, that had not saved him much. His despair and loneliness is a cold pit in his heart that intercepts any sort of love or happiness that tries to appear. Aiden would be a good Slytherin because he feels nothing for anyone, except for hate. A common stereotypical Slytherin trait.
Year:
Fourth/Fifth
Bloodline:
Pureblood
Magical Strength (pick one):
Charms
Magical Weakness (pick one):
Transfiguration
Biography:
Dominick Edward Claverwood Jr. was born to British parents on November 13, 1934. The cottage he was given birth to in had previously belonged to a poor Muggle couple, who had moved out after the husband received a job offer in Sweden. It was a small house, placed directly in the middle of the Macclesfield Forest, and held two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a sitting room. He was named after his father, Dominick Claverwood the First, and was a respectable young baby.
As he grew up, he was induced into the world of alcohol. His pureblood parents weren't intelligent enough to realize that their son was coming home drunk every night, and ignored it as him being tired. One night, at the age of twenty-two, he met a young woman at his local bar, by the name of Elizabeth Marie Middleton.
She was a fine lady, who shared the same features as Dominick: blonde hair, green eyes, and a casual air around her that made the environment around her feel like a tea party. As soon as they met eyes, they both knew that their lives would be changed forever, and in both bad and good ways. After having a few drinks, discussing a few random topics, and sharing a few laughs, Dominick was invited to visit her and her home. He at once replied with a yes, and they made their way home to her large home far down the road.
It was at precisely 11:35 p.m., that, before they had even shared a whole day together, Elizabeth revealed her most treasured secret to him: the fact that she was a witch. Dominick was, however, not very shocked, as he was going to reveal his magical tendencies to her that very night also, and was actually quite cheerful. The very next day, Dominick revealed to his parents that he and Elizabeth would be married in the next week. Despite his parents' arguments, Dominick followed his own mind, and him and Elizabeth eloped to France.
The next year, after coming back from France and moving into a moderately sized house in England, their child, Aiden Alexander Claverwood, was born. The baby was born on April 9th at exactly twenty seconds past 3:29 a.m., and was the miracle of Dominick and Elizabeth's lives. However, being born was not exactly a miracle for Aiden. As he grew up, his father was sucked back into his drinking habits, which he had forcefully quit after having a child. Dominick's drunkenness sparked violence, which would happen at any given times. Aiden's mother was beaten often, and Aiden himself was forced to live a childhood that no normal kid would ever enjoy having.
On a very warm fall night of September, Dominick's rages were out of anyone's control. He smashed windows, broke furniture, and ripped apart books like a crazed idiot ( which is what Aiden thought he was.) Elizabeth tried to interfere, but was thrown across the room, her wand sent flying beyond her reach. Thankfully, the police arrived before he could do any more damage to the home. Dominick was taken from his residence and served some time in Muggle prison, where he died the next day of overdosage.
Now-crippled Elizabeth raised Aiden as the boy she has always wanted, but the memory of that night was stuck in his memory forever, a nightmare that he was forced to live in real life.
ADDITIONAL INFORMATION
Please include these sections if they are not addressed in your biography.
Personality:
Aiden is a very incommunicative child, and suffers from what is called doxophobia, which is a fear of expressing one's opinions. He hates talking to people, but seems to talk to himself sometimes. However, whenever he does talk to another person, there's always a tone of sarcasm in his voice. He hates sunlight, and he hates happiness. He almost has a heart attack everytime he sees someone smile, and has a tendency to be uncontrollably violent. His favorite animal is a serpent, and his favorite colour is black. He likes types of goth music, but any type of cheerful music makes him cover his ears. He has no time for love, kindness, or fear, because he is always too busy muttering at small children. Basically, Aiden is the kind of child who only the kids with black eye shadow and ripped clothing want to befriend.
Appearance:
Aiden has short, jet-black hair and chocolate-colored eyes. He has a slightly muscular figure, and pale skin, with only a slight tan on his arms, caused by years of wearing t-shirts. He is slightly below average in height, at 5'6", and hates it. His height is below many others' and it's hard to be mean to someone when they're taller than you. He has tried to charm himself to grow larger before, but has only managed to grow his feet larger. His hair is neatly trimmed, and it makes him feel civilized and well-groomed, which makes up for his size.
SAMPLE ROLEPLAY
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:
The sun was shining annoyingly bright the fateful day that Aiden had chosen to walk down the hallway to eat in the Great Hall. It had been a long day, full of homework, and he was exhausted. He had received much more homework than he had cared to receive, and was still not even halfway done. One of the reasons being, that he had spent most of his day at the Quidditch Pitch, watching a Inter-School quidditch game between Gryffindor and some other team that he had not cared to watch: he was too busy mocking the lions and lionesses. The weirdos and the freaks. The good the bad, and the ugly.
It had been a close match, and most of the students had been holding their breath during the ending, but Aiden had been too busy whispering insults at the players. He had been given a couple of scowls by certain people, but he didn't really mind. He had trained himself to ignore what other people thought of him and his negativity. He liked to sit in the front of the bleachers and scowl at passing players, hoping they would see him and have their morale diminished. Usually, however, they would just keep on flying, and refer to Aiden as 'that freakshow in the stands who was staring at me all weird'.
After, to Aiden's pleasure, Gryffindor lost, he had a private little celebration. The nasty little cats had finally had their three-year winning spree ended, and it was even more humorous because the loss was caused by a clumsy little second year. The look on the small boy's face when he missed the foul shot was priceless, and would be implanted into Aiden's memory forever...along with a couple of other things that he didn't really feel like thinking about.
However, even after all this delightfulness, there was still even more to come. Little did he know that Aiden would soon be turning the corner into a different hallway, to see the the little second-year feline himself, the Gryffindor loser, the player who Aiden would soon be coming face-to-face with. And boy, Aiden was sure as hell not going to let this opportunity slip out of his grasp.
His converse must have made quite a sound on the stone hallway floor, seeing as the boy apparently heard Aiden's footsteps. Turning around quickly, tears about to rain down from his eyes like mini cataracts, the boy yelled at Aiden. "WHAT! Haven't you ever seen a loser before? Why don't you just take a picture!" Aiden paused. He had never had much experience with conversations, and especially not with a feisty second-year, and he had no clue whatsoever what to do. Fumbling for words, he spit the only thing he could think out of his mouth. "Don't you yell at me, you little brat. Just because you lost your house the cup doesn't mean you can go around taking your anger out on other people, especially people older than you!"
He glared at the child, and his hands rounded into fists, which soon opened back up. This child was not worth fighting. He was a little kid. He had no clue what he was doing. Of course, that didn't keep Aiden from making the boy know his presence.
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