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Archived Applications / Re: Finnbar Oisin
« on: 06/08/2020 at 02:22 »
(((THe last one was all in bold. This one the changes were in bold
Application for Hogwarts School[/center]
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.
Name:Finnbar “Finn” Oisin Uiane
Birthday: Unknown, celebrates February 3rd, 1946, his foundling day (((Birthday is flexible depending on what you assign me. I prefer 4th Year)))
Hometown:Eoin’s Feirme, County Donnegal, Ireland
Bloodline:
Unknown
Magical Strength (pick one):
Charms
Magical Weakness (pick one):
Divination
Year (pick two):4th or 5th
Biography:
Finn grew up on a farm in Ireland with his dad and grandfather. It was a blessed childhood. Farm living is hard living, but Finn took to it. Finn grew strong with the farm work. The mornings were taken up by chores, the afternoon by tending the crops. Nights were reserved for stories and music. Many a night were spent singing, or dancing while his grandfather played the fiddle. Finn had a good voice, and the men in his life taught him the pennywhistle and the fiddle.
There was always a void in his life, however. As soon as he was old enough to realize, he started asking about his missing mother.
“She had to leave,” Eogan, his father, would say. “But she left you safe with us.”
Or, he would say “She took up with some lepurchans. She’s one for adventure, that one.”
Or, he would joke “Why, are we not enough for you?”
Finally, Finn was old enough to tell him the truth. By the fire one night, Eogan and his grandfather, Cormac, sat him down and told him his story.
“It was a heavy storm in February when you appeared on our doorstep, in your mother’s arms. You both were feverous and cold. We didn’t know who she was. We took you in and warmed you as best we could. We brought in a healer, but it was all for naught. She passed the next day, having never woken. We were afraid the same would happen to you, but you weren’t giving up that easy. You fought your way back.”
“So I’m not your son?” Finnbar said through tears.
“Family is more then blood. See, you were a miracle. Your mother had no wand nor wizarding robes. As far as we could tell, she was a muggle. And yet, she appeared at our doorstep. We have concealment charms just to prevent that sort of thing from happening. The gods were looking out for you. You are a special little one, and you are special to us.”
They went to explain how they tried to track her family down, to learn anything about her. They enquired with both the muggle authorities and the Ministry of Magic. There wasn’t a missing woman matching her description in the county. They decided to raise Finnbar, named for his fair hair, as their own.
The answer was far from satisfactory, but Finn accepted it. He found a new sense of peace. He continued his idealic little farm life. On the weekend, his dad allowed him to go to the nearby town to socialize with the muggles. He discovered gaelic football and hurling. He developed quite the tackle and was handy with a sliotar.
One incident stood out. A local child took exception to one of Finn’s tackles. He waited for him after the game with a couple of his friends. Finn returned home with a bloody nose and black eye.
“It was unfair. There were three of them! Give me your wand so I can curse them!”
That was the first and only time, that Finn felt the sting of his father’s hand.
“I’ll not be hearing talk of cursing in our house. We must be better than that. It is a dark path to use our magic against the defenseless.”
Finn was chastened. He learned an important lesson that day.
His father, ever supportive, encouraged his interest in sports. A trip to see Ballycastle Bats become an annual “birthday” tradition. Gaelic games were all well and good, but Eogan, who played Quidditch in his Hogwarts days, made sure his son knew the beauty of Quidditch.
The big question of his life now was if he was going to inherit magic ability. It hung over him like a cloud. He stayed awake at night wondering if it were to happen.
He turned 11, and his Hogwarts acceptance came. The family was apprehensive. There was work to be done on the farm, and Grandpa Cormac health had declined. His knees were giving out, and his back was giving out. He couldn't do the fine hand work of herbology. And Finn was happy. He was moving up the ranks of the hurling team, and still enjoyed time with hsi dad and grandfather.
He had a special surprise. Returning from practice, his dad and grandpa had cleared the living space. On the table was an wooden box, long and thin, that Finn had never seen before.
“Open it,” Cormac told him. Inside was a wand. “Rowan with a phoenix feather. This belonged to my father, and his father, and his father before him. Its been in our family so long, we don’t know when we first got it. There is the Old Magick in it. Try it.”
Apprehensively, Finn raised it over his head and brought it down. He was blinded by all the sparks coming out of it! He swung it again and a book came flying off the shelf! He was in tears, those great happy tears.
“See? Family is more than blood. You were meant for us,” Grandpa said, tears in his eyes too.
Grandfather and Father tutored their son in magic. Finn took it all in.
At 14, they sat him down.
“We’ve taught you all we can. You have talent. It is a father's wish for his child to be better than he is. It's time to become the best wizard you can be” his father told him.
Finnbar was going to Hogwarts.
→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
House Request:Gryffindor
Personality:
Fun. Gregarious. Always ready with wit and a quip, or a joke and story. He was popular with the local kids. However, he needs his own time of solitude. He can be seen gardening, or practing his pennyflute, or running hurling drills. He’s not very good with book learning, much preferring learning by doing and experience. He would never be in the running to be a Ravenclaw, but he has a determination and focus to practice and practice to get something right.
Appearance:
Finnbar was named for his fair hair, which he wears in a mop-top cut. His skin is tanned from all the outdoor work. Farm life has also given him a strong build, with a broad chest and thick arms. His hands are well callused. He has a lantern jaw and square face. The muggle girls considered him a bit of a pip. He is on the shorter side, his father jokes that he must have leprechaun blood in him.
→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
Option 2:
Finnbar was always at his happiest when he had dirt on his hands.
He had a free period between Charms and Transfigurations, so he was doing some gardening. Charms had not gone well. His Aguamenti charm was only creating a trickle. His pronunciation was wrong, or his wand swoop wasn’t right. He was frustrated, so he decided to clear his head with some weeding. The groundskeeper absolutely loved Finn.
He heard a squeak to his left and looked just in time to see a rat scurry past him and disappear into the row of daisies.
“You blasted rat! Where are you?” he heard.
He started to dust off the dirt on his hands. There was a sneeze. He stood up to look just in time to see Hugh wiping his nose on his sleeve.
"Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare." Finn decided to ignore that. At least one of us will have manners, he thought
“Heard you’re looking for a rat,” he said. “Perhaps I can help you. I saw one run into those daisies over there.”
He reached into his bag and pulled out a Cauldron cake and started to break off pieces.
”Magic rats love these things. We use them in traps on the farm.”
He laid down a line of cake bits.
”Alright, be ready to grab the wee little one.”
→ ABOUT YOU.
Please list any characters you have on the site (current and previous):
None
How did you find us?: Google
Application for Hogwarts School[/center]
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.
Name:Finnbar “Finn” Oisin Uiane
Birthday: Unknown, celebrates February 3rd, 1946, his foundling day (((Birthday is flexible depending on what you assign me. I prefer 4th Year)))
Hometown:Eoin’s Feirme, County Donnegal, Ireland
Bloodline:
Unknown
Magical Strength (pick one):
Charms
Magical Weakness (pick one):
Divination
Year (pick two):4th or 5th
Biography:
Finn grew up on a farm in Ireland with his dad and grandfather. It was a blessed childhood. Farm living is hard living, but Finn took to it. Finn grew strong with the farm work. The mornings were taken up by chores, the afternoon by tending the crops. Nights were reserved for stories and music. Many a night were spent singing, or dancing while his grandfather played the fiddle. Finn had a good voice, and the men in his life taught him the pennywhistle and the fiddle.
There was always a void in his life, however. As soon as he was old enough to realize, he started asking about his missing mother.
“She had to leave,” Eogan, his father, would say. “But she left you safe with us.”
Or, he would say “She took up with some lepurchans. She’s one for adventure, that one.”
Or, he would joke “Why, are we not enough for you?”
Finally, Finn was old enough to tell him the truth. By the fire one night, Eogan and his grandfather, Cormac, sat him down and told him his story.
“It was a heavy storm in February when you appeared on our doorstep, in your mother’s arms. You both were feverous and cold. We didn’t know who she was. We took you in and warmed you as best we could. We brought in a healer, but it was all for naught. She passed the next day, having never woken. We were afraid the same would happen to you, but you weren’t giving up that easy. You fought your way back.”
“So I’m not your son?” Finnbar said through tears.
“Family is more then blood. See, you were a miracle. Your mother had no wand nor wizarding robes. As far as we could tell, she was a muggle. And yet, she appeared at our doorstep. We have concealment charms just to prevent that sort of thing from happening. The gods were looking out for you. You are a special little one, and you are special to us.”
They went to explain how they tried to track her family down, to learn anything about her. They enquired with both the muggle authorities and the Ministry of Magic. There wasn’t a missing woman matching her description in the county. They decided to raise Finnbar, named for his fair hair, as their own.
The answer was far from satisfactory, but Finn accepted it. He found a new sense of peace. He continued his idealic little farm life. On the weekend, his dad allowed him to go to the nearby town to socialize with the muggles. He discovered gaelic football and hurling. He developed quite the tackle and was handy with a sliotar.
One incident stood out. A local child took exception to one of Finn’s tackles. He waited for him after the game with a couple of his friends. Finn returned home with a bloody nose and black eye.
“It was unfair. There were three of them! Give me your wand so I can curse them!”
That was the first and only time, that Finn felt the sting of his father’s hand.
“I’ll not be hearing talk of cursing in our house. We must be better than that. It is a dark path to use our magic against the defenseless.”
Finn was chastened. He learned an important lesson that day.
His father, ever supportive, encouraged his interest in sports. A trip to see Ballycastle Bats become an annual “birthday” tradition. Gaelic games were all well and good, but Eogan, who played Quidditch in his Hogwarts days, made sure his son knew the beauty of Quidditch.
The big question of his life now was if he was going to inherit magic ability. It hung over him like a cloud. He stayed awake at night wondering if it were to happen.
He turned 11, and his Hogwarts acceptance came. The family was apprehensive. There was work to be done on the farm, and Grandpa Cormac health had declined. His knees were giving out, and his back was giving out. He couldn't do the fine hand work of herbology. And Finn was happy. He was moving up the ranks of the hurling team, and still enjoyed time with hsi dad and grandfather.
He had a special surprise. Returning from practice, his dad and grandpa had cleared the living space. On the table was an wooden box, long and thin, that Finn had never seen before.
“Open it,” Cormac told him. Inside was a wand. “Rowan with a phoenix feather. This belonged to my father, and his father, and his father before him. Its been in our family so long, we don’t know when we first got it. There is the Old Magick in it. Try it.”
Apprehensively, Finn raised it over his head and brought it down. He was blinded by all the sparks coming out of it! He swung it again and a book came flying off the shelf! He was in tears, those great happy tears.
“See? Family is more than blood. You were meant for us,” Grandpa said, tears in his eyes too.
Grandfather and Father tutored their son in magic. Finn took it all in.
At 14, they sat him down.
“We’ve taught you all we can. You have talent. It is a father's wish for his child to be better than he is. It's time to become the best wizard you can be” his father told him.
Finnbar was going to Hogwarts.
→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
House Request:Gryffindor
Personality:
Fun. Gregarious. Always ready with wit and a quip, or a joke and story. He was popular with the local kids. However, he needs his own time of solitude. He can be seen gardening, or practing his pennyflute, or running hurling drills. He’s not very good with book learning, much preferring learning by doing and experience. He would never be in the running to be a Ravenclaw, but he has a determination and focus to practice and practice to get something right.
Appearance:
Finnbar was named for his fair hair, which he wears in a mop-top cut. His skin is tanned from all the outdoor work. Farm life has also given him a strong build, with a broad chest and thick arms. His hands are well callused. He has a lantern jaw and square face. The muggle girls considered him a bit of a pip. He is on the shorter side, his father jokes that he must have leprechaun blood in him.
→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
Option 2:
Finnbar was always at his happiest when he had dirt on his hands.
He had a free period between Charms and Transfigurations, so he was doing some gardening. Charms had not gone well. His Aguamenti charm was only creating a trickle. His pronunciation was wrong, or his wand swoop wasn’t right. He was frustrated, so he decided to clear his head with some weeding. The groundskeeper absolutely loved Finn.
He heard a squeak to his left and looked just in time to see a rat scurry past him and disappear into the row of daisies.
“You blasted rat! Where are you?” he heard.
He started to dust off the dirt on his hands. There was a sneeze. He stood up to look just in time to see Hugh wiping his nose on his sleeve.
"Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare." Finn decided to ignore that. At least one of us will have manners, he thought
“Heard you’re looking for a rat,” he said. “Perhaps I can help you. I saw one run into those daisies over there.”
He reached into his bag and pulled out a Cauldron cake and started to break off pieces.
”Magic rats love these things. We use them in traps on the farm.”
He laid down a line of cake bits.
”Alright, be ready to grab the wee little one.”
→ ABOUT YOU.
Please list any characters you have on the site (current and previous):
None
How did you find us?: Google
