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Aquarium

Welcome to the Aquarium. I write stuff for fun sometimes and need a place to dump them that isn't my gdocs, or my harddrive. Feel free to peek and read. Hands off on the plots, settings, or characters however! Unless you can get me to explicitly agree for you to use it.

If you have any feedback, please PM me! I rather not have anyone post in this thread except from myself.
INDEX


A story of how August Yilmaz's parents got together

Dehlia was someone who enjoyed life to its fullest. She enjoyed her youth with late parties, binge-drinking, and flirting her nights away on whomever her eyes would fall upon. It was scandalous, for a woman in this age, but Dehlia was a female far ahead of her time. She didn’t care about the whispers and the looks of judgements that they gave her, or that she was made out to be a loose cannon. She enjoyed her time, her life, and none of them could ever think of taming her. Dehlia Galatas was far from ready to settle down as a wife of another man. Her mind was simply not tuned towards the focus of starting a family and having children. Not like her peers, not like how society wanted her to be.

The age-old cliche started when the Greek met Ceyhun, a peculiar man from the history department with an odd fascination for anything magical and mythological. Unrealistic, others called him, judging the Turk for chasing a simple boy’s dream he could never let go. However, these were the words spoken by the muggles, who had no idea of the hidden world that existed next to theirs. Serious and reserved the young scholar had approached Dehlia for a commission, having heard a great deal over her talents in arts, but especially in depicting legendary beings so well and vividly like no other could. The very same creatures he was so interested in.


“I like you!” Dehlia had little reservation as she said this. Her company, a handsome, apathetic looking man stared back at her in confusion, slightly disturbed from the studies he had immersed himself in. “I like you as well?” he replied, unsure of where she was going with this and went back to his books again. Huffing the female put down her sketch pad and coal, placing her hand over a page.

“H-hey, you’re dirtying the pages!” Ceyhun’s reaction was probably the only sort of emotion that Dehlia could get out of the man successfully, making her wonder why she even bothered. Was it because they were both magic-users? Different from the rest of the muggles that surrounded them on the campus? Dehlia liked to believe that was the only reason why she kept on returning to this seemingly dull man. However, her thumping heart told her otherwise. Despite her calm demeanour, and many flings she was sweating it. What if he didn’t return it in the way she did? Anxious she pulled her hand away, flicking the Turk’s head. “I’m getting coffee, do you want some?” Returning to her usual nonchalance the female left the room as Ceyhun hummed, which meant ‘yes’ in his world.

The second time Dehlia tried to confess she wasn’t as straightforward. Deciding to play it safe the female instead tried to stir the man’s interests.

“So, Ceyhun?” the female asked one bored afternoon. Mixing some paint together for the right shade she heard her only company hum, meaning that he had heard her and was waiting for her to continue. Rolling her eyes Dehlia wondered how anyone could ever have a full conversation with the wizard, but found it even more peculiar how she had grown used to this quirk of his. “Are you still a virgin?” The sound of a page slipping from Ceyhun’s fingers brought a smirk to the Greek’s face, regretting the fact that she had her back turned. How she would have loved to see his expression now.

“What makes you think that?” the male spoke slowly, carefully, but she could make out how flustered he was at her question. Oh, the poor man. As reserved and innocent as he was, how could he answer such a scandalous question? Shrugging Dehlia turned around, a coy look on her face as she pointed her brush at him. “You just cross me that way. Always with your nose in the books, grunting instead of properly replying. The only good thing about you is your handsome face!” Cue to another blush from the man who turned his eyes away. “It is not that I’m uninterested…” he mumbled, feeling his face heating up further. Why was he even talking about this, playing along with Dehlia’s whims? The man could honestly hit himself for giving Dehlia even more reason to tease.

“Hmm? Not uninterested?” and there it was, that slight lilt in her voice that just sang trouble to him. Hearing the female approach Ceyhun held in a breath, praying that she wouldn’t continue. However, his lucky stars weren’t shining tonight. Not when he was around Dehlia, never when around that blasted woman. Feeling her body pressing up against him Ceyhun closed his eyes, hating how he was enjoying her attention. “And what does interest you?” she whispered at him. Ceyhun let go of a deep sigh, his eyes focusing on his books again as he tried to ignore the witch.

“Do you like your girls wild?” she started to list off a variety of types that the male drowned out of his thoughts, missing out on the glimmer of hope she had when she slyly described herself.

“Or, perhaps, you like men instead?” Ceyhun twitched a little as he felt her breath going over his ear, annoyance taking over. Shrugging Dehlia off the man straightened himself again, his hand landing heavily on top of his book. “One that knows how to take a hint,” was his brisk answer and returned to the yellowed pages and its fine print.


He didn’t see Dehlia for a week afterwards. After his outburst the female had backed off and apologised, believing that he had been talking about her. He hadn’t meant to chase her away. Not entirely. The man had been infatuated with the woman way before he had first approached her, as he had always admired her from afar for her free spirit and fierce independence. That he needed to commission some art was just a simple excuse to finally approach her. That he found out that she was carrying a secret alike to his just cemented their friendship, and he was content in keeping it that way if that meant being near her. However, she wasn’t anymore and Ceyhun was missing her dearly.

The female seemed to have the uncanny ability to prevent their paths from crossing. Where the two of them would usually run into each other the Turk had little luck in finding her now. As if the woman was on the run from him, which Ceyhun certainly couldn’t blame her for. It just stung, however, as he agonised himself over why Dehlia was taunting him so much only to run out of his life.

He finally did manage to find her, after approaching friends of Dehlia and asking them about her schedule. Information they gladly gave to him. “Dehlia?” his voice was careful as he approached the female enjoying the shade of a tree. He could see the immediate confusion setting as she saw him.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” was her immediate reaction to which Ceyhun chuckled. As he had suspected, the female did know his schedule. Shrugging he stopped a few steps away from her. “I skipped,” was his answer, as if he did so on a daily base. However, everyone knew that Ceyhun Yilmaz never skipped class.

Dehlia shifted a little, playing around with an apple in hands. “What is it?” she tried to be cold about it, apathetic in the reason why Ceyhun had appeared in front of her. However, her heart was beating, and a hope was surging through her chest. Could it be?

The male shrugged again in his normal awkward fashion, humming in that annoying tone of his before correcting his posture and looking the female down straight into her eyes. A rare occurrence and Dehlia couldn’t help but feel her breath stock. A strange determination was set in his eyes, but also a slight hurt could be read and her hope grew.

"I missed you," Ceyhun said, his voice low, but clear for once. None of that absent-mumbling that drove her crazy, none of that brabbling he did because he was too shy to speak up clearly and too unprepared in every damn social situation. Ceyhun Yilmaz finally spoken in a way Dehlia had been waiting for.

Silence filled between them as Dehlia was struck by his words. The fact that all this was uncommon behaviour for the man had her heart racing, hoping for something she didn’t dare to hope for. Could it be? Was it so?

Not daring to ask the question Dehlia instead threw her apple at the man. It wasn’t the most romantic gesture, especially as she had already taken a bite of the fruit, but she hoped that the history nerd would take the implications of it.

And so he did. Clumsily catching the fruit, not caring that his hand was over its exposed flesh Ceyhun gave Dehlia a nervous smile. His eyes were still unsure, as he was debating whether this was a proposal or an attack. As he was about to ask for a clarification Dehlia rolled her eyes.

“Don’t ruin the moment.”
 
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Original thread. So, after finishing BBC Merlin I was craving an Arthurian inspired roleplay. Alongside the idea of wanting to do a horror and watching Dead Poet Society Albion prep. was born. I don't intend to run this roleplay, however and I don't think I'd want to join a rp involving this either. If you like the setting and wish to use it, shoot me a PM. Always, always give credit where it is due, don't just blatantly take the idea because I handed it over.

ABeeZee;Amarante; Maitree


Albion Academy

Albion preparatory is a co-ed private boarding school located in the North-west of France within the region of Brittany (Breton). Albion prep. advertises itself like any other elite school does, through tradition, excellence, and class. Only the best of the best are allowed to attend, and thus the school population largely exists out of rich elites, smart bookworms, and even the few surviving nobles. With this promise many of the elite are eager to send off their offspring to the academy, hoping that it will help their sons and daughters get a headstart in life from the rest of their peers. However, what truly makes Albion prep. stand out from all the other elite preparatory schools is its rich history and many mysteries that dates back even way before the school was founded.

Situated within a former monastery Albion prep has a history that is rumoured to be linked to the legendary British leader; king Arthur. It is what inspired the name of the school as well, and the morals of the school it was founded on: justice, fairness, and equality. Albion prep doesn’t discriminate between backgrounds and ranks, and selects its students based on their own strive for excellence. Everyone stands an equal chance on Albion academy.

Built near the sea cliffs and surrounded by plenty of greenery the monastery is well-covered and hidden from public view. However, the large paved road betrays the significance of the place as an elite school. A short distance away the city of Quimper can be found, an ancient traditional city with heavy celtic influences. Most of the students’ life finds place within the school grounds, which exists out of laps of lands for p.e and leisurely activity, living quarters that serve as their dormitory, former workplaces repurposed into classrooms, and the main building, the old church where important events are held, and for the weekly communion.

Students aren’t required to live in on the school grounds, though it is prefered. By special permission from the school, and or explicit approval of the parents, students are also allowed to live in Quimper or surrounding. This provided that the students have the means to transport themselves to the school safely and timely. Usually this applies to students from the region, however, even then it is often highly suggested to move into the dormitory for easier integration into the student body. For the students that are from poorer backgrounds the academy has the Merlin foundation that relieves the burden of tuition for the families.




Justice, Fairness & Equality

Albion prep’s history is one that dates far, far back, and that of the building even further. The former monastery that is used was a secluded place where monks and nuns lived and worked separately from each other. Like most monasteries the Saint [something] monastery was not open for public visits and the monks and nuns living there were expected to live their daily lives in total subjugation and dedication of the Lord. It was considered a holy and mysterious place for many of the common folk. None had an idea of what took place within the monastery grounds and few dared to disrespect the peace there. This resulted in many rumours and stories surrounding the monastery, some even linked to magic and otherbeings.

The conception of the monastery is hard to pinpoint. Certain is that the monastery has been around for almost as long as the celtic-influenced town Quimper. Rumour has it that the legendary King Arthur was the one who founded the monastery along with his knight Lancelot. It is why many believed that the reason the monastery was not open for public was because it housed magical beings and magic itself. Lancelot was, after all, believed to be a changeling. Several ancient documents from Quimper also make mention of the mysterious place, signifying its old age and unsure origins. However, there is no way to ensure the eligibility of these documents as some even speculate the monastery to be the hiding place of the Holy Grail.

It wasn’t until the mid-18th century that the people suddenly realised the place was abandoned. How and when that happened is unclear, but it is clear that the last monk who was maintaining the place died a lonely death at an old age. Believing the place to be haunted, or worse cursed, the people left the monastery alone, leaving the ghosts to wail and the valuables untouched. It was a strange mutual understanding, even amongst the bravest thieves not to get near the place, lest something bad was to happen.

The monastery would have fallen into ruins and decay if it wasn’t for a rich nobleman with a vision. He claimed the building and its grounds and renovated it. In the year 1835 Albion Academy opened its doors, welcoming its first students. The people were sceptical at first, believing that nothing good could come out of using the old monastery, and held their breaths. In the first year of Albion only a handful of students attended from twentiesh noble families that helped with the conception of Albion prep. It took years before the school became the elite academy it is today, mostly thanks to its connection with the Arthurian legends, but also through the constant dedication of the founding families, and the waning belief in superstition.




The Founding Families

Albion prep was born because one nobleman had a vision. He wanted to provide an education for his offspring that he could take pride in, but also to keep them safe from the rest of the world. A place where his sons would learn discipline and wield a sword, but at the same time could study the fine arts of poetry, languages, as well as sciences. Albion prep started out as an all-boys school with thirty students coming from twenty families that also shared the nobleman’s belief. At such a small scale and no fame they had plenty of room to experiment and to establish themselves an identity that they were comfortable with. Albion quickly grew in notice, both for its air of exclusivity, and the quality of the education offered. In a bout of solidarity the students started to call themselves the knights of the round table, after the infamous meetings from the Arthurian legends, which prompted the school to adopt the words: Justice, Fairness, and Equality as their morals. However, equality only meant for its students as they all had to be male and from nobility. It didn’t extend itself to females, or commoners as they weren’t allowed to the school.

It was only at the beginning of the twentieth century that Albion became a co-ed school, however, still only admitting students from wealthy backgrounds. Equality became one step closer to its realisation as female students started to attend classes and live on the campus. From there on the school changed quickly as it was hurled into two world wars that even a place as secluded as Albion couldn’t hide from. Opening its doors as a place of sanctuary commoners could be found amongst the students as well, living and attending the same classes as the Albion students did. It was in this time of emergency and solidarity that the vision of the school shifted once more. An aim for excellence instead of exclusivity came to be.

It was years after the world wars that Albion decided to officially open its doors to students from all backgrounds, if they could prove their excellency to the school. Suddenly Albion wasn’t a school for the nobility, but a school where talents could rise to the top. The emphasis was placed upon the talent and notice, rather than money and tradition. Anyone who had something to prove the world fit within the profile of Albion prep. Justice, fairness, and equality were more realised as everyone stands an equal chance at the prestigious academy.

At the time of the conception of Albion prep there were twenty families who shared the same vision as the nobleman. They all chipped into the beginnings of Albion prep and remained part of the school board in the generations to come. However, as the strict rules of etiquette the nobility started to wane, but also interest. Some of the families ran extinct, while others fell off their pedestal and were forced to part, and a few disagreed with the growth Albion was making. All in all, from the twenty noble families that once founded Albion prep only a few remain to carry on the tradition to send their offspring to Albion. All founding families will forever maintain a special place in the school, but as time has changed the organisation of it did as well. The school is no longer ran by the strict hierarchy from the past. The only remainder of that time is the principal, who is still one of the descendants of a founding family.


ABeeZee;Amarante; Maitree


Legends

According to the legends of King Arthur the Holy Grail is a magical artifact that holds miraculous powers. Some believe it to be the chalice from which Christ drank from at his last supper, and in which his blood was caught with his crucification. Others believe it to be a stone that fell from Lucifer’s crown when he was exiled from heaven.

There are many stories about what the Holy Grail looks like and what it exactly is, but none that confirm each other. What its powers exactly are is just as unknown. Some say that it grants eternal life, or youth, others believe that it gives endless powers, or the granting of happiness. All great powers, accompanied with even greater stories, but all shrouded in the unknown. Despite the many secrecies a great many have sought for the Holy Grail and its powers, King Arthur and his knights being one of them. It was one of the last described quests associated with the king before he went into a sleep, waiting for a time Albion needs him again. Whether he succeeded or not in finding the Grail is unknown.

Some believe that Arthur did find the Holy Grail and that the artifact has given him his legendary success. However, realising the endless power of the item and its potentially dangerous uses, Arthur hid the artifact again. Away from any prying eyes, and especially his enemies Arthur then put himself in a long slumber, sealing the location of the Holy Grail with him. Some say that the Holy Grail is needed to wake Arthur. Other sources claim that Arthur needs to be awakened first to find the Holy Grail.

Albion prep’s role in this story starts like most tales associated to the Grail with rumours and myths. Said to be founded by King Arthur the monastery is said to be called into existence in order to hide something. The mysteries surrounding the origins of the former monastery and its secluded locations all seem to suggest such, according to avid Arthur fans. What this something is, is unknown. There are many popular suggestions, such as the legendary sword Excalibur, the sleeping king himself, but by far the most popular rumour is that the Holy Grail finds it hiding place in the old monastery.




Traditions

Due to it secluded location Albion prep notices very little of the tidings of the world. As such it has always managed to be in constant session, despite the wars raging on in the world outside. It could even be said that the only betrayal of the passing time are the constantly changing faces of the the students and its staff. However, undeniable is that Albion prep is surrounded by a mysterious aura that once covered the monastery. Strange incidents that no one can quite explain happen at random moments, as well as an eerie feeling of something more in the air that no one can quite put their finger on. It is the source of many rumours and stories amongst the students. Some based on incidents that have threatened the school, but also some merely based on hearsay. It has given way to some of Albion prep’s famous traditions, whether it is a custom amongst the students, or one required by the school.

Justice, fairness, and equality >>
Once a student starts at Albion prep they encounter the first tradition. In lieu to the legendary king Arthur all new students are formally ‘knighted’ into the school by the sword of Albion, popularly called the ‘replica of Excalibur’. The principal gives each of the new students the blessing to excel on Albion prep. Then the students round up in a circle and pass a cup of wine/grape juice while reciting the morals of the school. It is a symbolic tradition as each of the steps reflects one of the founding morals. The sword is justice, the sharing of the cup fairness, and the circle equality.

This tradition was birthed from the second generation of students from Albion, when they started to call themselves the ‘Knights of the Round Table’ after the fabled knights of King Arthur. They organised the first opening ceremony in secret amongst themselves, when swords were more common. The students continued to carry out this ceremony until the school board decided to make it official in its seventh year of existence.

Queen Guinevere >>>
Named after the wife of King Arthur this title is reserved for the most exemplary female student of Albion. Queen Guinevere was not only said to be fair and just, but also to be the most beautiful of all in Camelot, both in person and in heart. She was known for her wisdom and kindness, which is what the student that gets named after her all needs to encompass. The student that is selected as Queen Guinevere will be representing all of the girls in Albion prep, making sure that they all enjoy their time on Albion.

Back in the days it was simply a beauty contest, where the prettiest girl was selected as the Queen. However, nowadays there is an heavier responsibility attached to this role. She acts as a representative of the girls, but also as part of the student council, thus fighting for the wishes of all students in Albion. It is generally suggested that the Queen Guinevere is a senior at Albion prep as they have the experience and endurance to play the role, but exceptions have been made for juniors in the past. However, the school makes it a hard rule to ensure that no freshman will ever be selected as Queen Guinevere, no matter how exemplary.
 
RP idea. Might develop it into a story if I like it enough. Plans on running this for myself is a big ‘maybe’. I. Hate. GM’ing. However. This idea wouldn’t let me go. Do not take this idea for yourself. If you like the code template you can contact me, however.

Legends
A kingdom endures as the king stands strong. On the crossroad where mountains end and forests start a kingdom lies asleep.

The Kingdom of Stril
Stril was once a kingdom of greatness. Where their water was mixed with honey, where gold was braided into the hair of their maidens, and where harvests each year were bountiful. Minstrels sang of Stril for their culture and skill, for their just king and the mighty walls. It was sang by mothers to their children, to inspire a good night sleep and make wonders seem real. But that was all what was known of the kingdom of Stril. A legend amongst kingdoms with no proof of existence.

There are few who still believe in the kingdom of Stril. Believing that the Fisher King had closed the gates of the country to protect itself from time. Unable to secure an heir the Fisher King despaired for the future of Stril, embarking on a quest for eternal life. It resulted into the introduction of dark magic and a legend buried alive. The Fisher King's soul was split into pieces scattered all around the world unknown. That was the last anyone heard of Stril, the kingdom that disappeared into the slits of time.


The Quest
In a world of chaos and turmoil a wish resonates within the heart of its people; wishing to bring together that what was no more. Some were dreamers, hoping to find the idyllic Stril of their favourite stories. Others dreamt of the kingdom of eternal peace and honey water, hoping to find that the ideal could exist within humanity. Others embarked on a mission with a thirst for knowledge, hoping that the vast knowledge that disappeared with Stril could be found once more. It was a wish and a mission of ideals and it all sparked from the first light.

It all started in an insignificant mountain village. A sudden light was all it took to create a center of worship. Believing this light to come from the gods the people built a shrine for it, praying and worshipping the place. For a while it did seem blessed, attracting all sorts of blessings. The harvest grew in abundance, the waters cleared up and animals were all drawn to the mysterious light. However, it also had it side effects. The village experienced wild-growth and the wild that has settled down near the village soon became a plague. The sudden successes of the village made it rich and susceptible to the attention of neighbouring places. The persisting light also had positive and negative effects on the people around. While it granted tranquility of mind and inspired many inventions the light also drew others crazy lusting for the mystery it hid. Soon the village was overwhelmed and all what was left was the bright shrine that continued to shine.

With much zeal and vigor for the Fisher King a scholar found a theory to the light. Believing that the mysterious light is a key to the legends a quest was started. Knowledge in hands, and the rest to be found and filled with capable and competent people. A journey throughout a wide and diverse world was about to start. A key back into the legendary kingdom of Stril. The kingdom of legends and a story about legends.
 
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Day's Belated Birthday Troll
I said I would do it and here I have done it. Enjoy, @DayDreamer!

  • It was a warm night once more. Even without the sun the heat of the day remained, clamoring around in the air. Once in a while a welcoming breeze could be felt, cooling the skin and making the night just that more bearable.

    It was there in the open halls that a figure could be found taking a stroll by himself. A much needed breather from the tumbles of the day. A break from his responsibilities and a time to unwind.

    However, it seemed that his day was far from over.

    “So, what will it be?” a voice came from the shadows.

    Halting the male let go of a deep sigh, having expected the mysterious presence to come for him sooner or later. Crossing his arms to his back he threw his head up, facing the sky as he contemplated for another moment. It wasn’t uncommon for subjects to ask their ruler for a favour, which he often had to deny, unfortunately. However, this wasn’t a common situation, or favour. No, he had to deliberate far more carefully.

    “Well?” the voice pressed on, though it sounded more sarcastic than impatient. Almost as if the voice already knew what the answer would be.

    ---

    Not much later the same voice appeared for another. This time it would be no stranger, but despite having met face to face the voice hid yet again, speaking to the friend from the shadows.

    “Day, I have a fashionably late birthday present for you.”

    Despite the lack of physical features the female could hear the wicked smirk in the voice, one that promised mischief and a boatload of fun. For who that fun was intended was always the question. However, she knew who the voice was familiar, though she wasn’t entirely decided if it was trustworthy.

    “You just have to follow me,” the voice spoke once more, coming from the shadow to the right as a door appeared. The door was left open giving a peek to what was beyond. A summer air wafted through promising that the destination was somewhere tropical.
  • “Nemo, no!”

    Not trusting the voice Day remained where she was. A huff escaped Nemo, once more Day could almost hear the expression. “Fine.” Nemo huffed and disappeared. The door remained, however and that alone was sign enough.

    “Hey, what do you think you’re doing? This isn’t what we agreed on!”

    Hearing a struggle coming from beyond the doors Day sat up, eyes suspicious again as she wondered what in the world Nemo could have planned. Agreement? It was all becoming very curious.

    With a shove a male tumbled out of the door, followed with a sinister snicker from the shadows.

    “You didn’t want to come, how do you like it?”

    In front of the Greek a familiar scarred face stared right back in utter astonishment. An expression returned by the female. After all, how often did it happen that a cartoon character came live in front of you?

    “Originally I planned for dinner with Zuko, buuuuuuut you refused the call,” the voice flippantly explained, the door disappearing to prevent the male from escaping.

    “Oh, I forgot something.”

    With the sound of fingers snapping Nemo vanished away the robe that covered Zuko’s top. A giggle escaping the voice as Day’s eyes grew wider and her face redder.

    “So, I heard that you liked his abs, so abs is what you will have.”

    With that the voice disappeared, leaving the two alone in embarrassment.

    “Happy birthday, Day!” Nemo’s voice cackled before fading away.

    1e80d069e020a0e3698535640592617c.gif
  • “Good,” Nemo’s voice sang, excited as Day pushed the door wider open.

    The door led into an open hallway, built in an Asian style. The roof was supported by intricate pillars and a stunning view over the mountains from where a cool wind was blowing to ease the warmth.

    “Keep on following my voice,” Nemo spoke, leading the female further down the path. They left the building, following down one of the hiking roads before a pavilion doomed up, decorated with lampions that carried a flickering flame in them. A table was set with all sorts of delicacies as a lone figure sat there, hooded and waiting.

    “Now, go on,” Nemo spoke, giving Day a push before disappearing, but not before wishing the female another “Happy belated birthday.”

    Nearing the pavilion the figure stood up awkwardly, unsure on what to do as Day approached.

    “Day?” a male voice came, a little wavering in awkwardness, but still maintaining a calm confidence.

    Nodding the female approached closer, trusting Nemo not to have planned anything too outrageous.

    “H-hi,” the male spoke again, pulling his hood down, revealing himself to be Zuko.

    “Nemo told me that I’m your favourite character or something, whatever that may mean.” He started awkwardly, eyes averting to the side as he rubbed the back of his head.

    “Said something about you thirsting for me?” he continued, a little confused on what it could mean and embarrassed because of all the implications it held. The female took a note to give Nemo a good whack for never escaping a chance to embarrass friends.

    “Anyway!” Recovering the male waved his arm over the table, inviting the female to sit down.

    “Happy birthday, Day. I’m glad to be part of it.”

    68431e83920a63d6285395468474b6e8.gif

    (If you thought I wouldn’t bully you with more Zuko abs you were wrong. :^) )
 
  • Nice Execution!
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Ondine Charlotte Fear
Female, 15 y/o March 25
Xana halfbreed, presumed to be a pureblood
5th year, Hufflepuff

Wand: Maple, 11 inches, phoenix feather, nice and supple.
Patronus: Sea Angel

Personality: A sweet girl with an even sweeter smile and sweettooth. From the first look one might suspect that she is too pretty to be true and in a way she is. As part of her heritage as a Xanino Ondine is meant to be beautiful, alluringly so as her species relies on their powers to seduce and charm. As a changeling Ondine carries a guilt for taken the position of the child that was supposed to be in her place. It causes her to selflessly sacrifice herself for anyone who expresses the need for help and it tarnishes her self-confidence where she believes herself to be a scam and unworthy. A gentle and caring girl who despite the circumstances tries to carry out a warm heart and remain positive.

History: The Fear family have always claimed themselves to be purebloods in line, however due to questionable births and the bad administration of their family tree they have a hard time proving this to the community. While they are wealthy the Fear family misses the recognition as one of the original pureblood families. They are the new blood amongst the purebloods.

An unknown piece of knowledge to most --and a fact unknown to even the family itself until a recent accident-- is the origin of the oldest daughter; Ondine Fear. Born from a xana the little girl was swapped at birth with the actual child that was supposed to be Ondine Fear. Since xana are unable to produce their own milk and take care of their own children this was a necessary practise to keep her alive. It wasn't until seven years ago when the Fear family had a second child that they found out about the swap. However, unwilling to fall off the pedestal that they had so carefully climbed up on they wrapped the whole story up and covered it nicely with money and influence. After all, Ondine was a very normal child despite the fact that she was born from a creature.

To make matters worse the newborn daughter; Circe was found to be suffering from several ailments. Conditions that would leave her unable to ever grow independent, let alone grow a long and fulfilling life. Circe was effectively considered to not exist in the world in which the Fear family lived. This secured Ondine's position as the heiress of the Fear legacy, though that was only accepted as such after many guarantees that this story was never to leak out and that a close eye was kept on the girl.

Thus the stifling life of a pureblood became even more of a glass cage. Her appearance that attracted both lavish compliments as well as (un)wanted attention didn't help her feelings of worthlessness at all, as they were a constant reminder of what she was. The constant scrutiny she lived in, the guilt she was plagued with for taking the place of the original heiress, and for the birth of her 'defect' sister. Ondine didn't know better but that she was a blemish on the world and that she had to make it right by doing right. The smile of her sister Circe, the smiles of her friends at school, the sweet strangers... Ondine seeks solace into the happiness of others, hoping that perhaps she might find some for herself.

Fun facts:
- Started baking sweets and pastries because her sister Circe likes it and Ondine makes it a point to fill Circe's life with joy before she has to prematurely depart.
- Regularly takes over the kitchen to bake sweets and pastries with the elves, though often they don't like her trying to mingle in, or help with cleaning.
- Has a great interest in Muggle cuisine. Their pastries and sweets are just out-of-the-world.
- Part of the Potions club, the choir, the astronomy club, and several study groups because she can't say no when people ask her to join.
 
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August Rayif Yilmaz
Male, 16 y/o, June 21
Halfblood
6th year, Ravenclaw

Wand: Silver lime, 13 inches, Unicorn Tail Hair, Pliant
Patronus: Firefly

Personality: Studious, hardworking, reserved, and stern. On a first glance August seems to be all explained by these four words. However, just as a real human there are layers to him as well. A little eccentric, greatly passionated, and impartial as well as easy-going are also words that stand high on the list to explain August Yilmaz, forever a foreigner in a country he has long since considered home. A young male who finds pleasure in surrounding himself in both knowledge as well as music, a philosopher and a secret romantic who enjoys abstract art as well as the exact studies. Sometimes impatient, most of the times understanding and curious. This sums up the nature of August, and him as a student.

History: August's story is of simple origins. He was born in Turkey, in a Kurdish family that decided to find their hail and luck in another country. A rainier country and colder. It was the country in which the boy would grow up to be a young man. His second home, though memories to his fatherland always remained fondly. A simple second generation immigrant from a family of magic, but also a discriminated minority. A country to which his father rather not returns, but still goes to for family visits. A country from which the accent still forever remains in his speech, but from which he barely retained the tongue from other than what he speaks to his parents.

Luckily he was never alone in that journey. His twin sister; Lucine was always by his side and August had expected her to come along with him to Hogwarts in the year they turned eleven. However, only one letter came and it was soon revealed that his twin was a squib. An unfortunate happening with terrifying implications as it meant that the somewhat awkward boy had to attend school alone.

The first year in Hogwarts was lonely, bullied as he was for his strange accent and exotic looks. However, things started to look up once the boy found a place to express himself and some friends. A busybee that is always on the move and through music and friendship August Yilmaz grew.

Fun facts:
- Leader of the astronomy club, and the orchestra club, part of the divination club, leads and is part of several study groups
- August despises the house system and refuses to join any extracurriculars that are explicetly attached to the houses (such as quidditch)
- Plays the piano, accordion, dilli düdük, and percussion
- Trained Occlumens, and a Legilimens in theory
 
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Melinda Cassandra Geralds
Female, 16 y/o, November 1
Pureblood
6th year, Gryffindor

Wand: English Oak, Dragon Heartstring, 11 inches, Brittle
Patronus: Pole fox

Personality: True to her house Melinda is a bold young lady that will not stand aside for anyone or anything. She stands firm for what she believes and has a personality larger than her form. Though small, people often forget that Melinda is below average in height for she certainly will never let anyone talk over her, let alone walk over her. It is her sharp tongue that makes her count for two, always needing to have the last word. She says what she means and means what she says, as she has no time for the little frivolous social etiquettes that many seem to mind themselves with.

Proud as she is of her pureblood lineage Melinda is also known as an arrogant and haughty young lady that snubs at all the rest. And while she does carry some supremacist beliefs Melinda is known to be tolerant, though never as accepting, or patient. It is an interesting contrast towards her feelings of inferiority sometimes when her fellow purebloods are mentioned, or especially her siblings.

History: Born from a line of untainted blood Melinda was constantly reminded of her good fortune and good breeding. Though she wasn’t the grace and genius that her older sister was, nor the gentle prodigy that her brother is Melinda was constantly reminded of her importance in the society that she was born. Even as a second child, she had a pressure upon her shoulders that quickly planted dangerous thoughts within her mind.

The duality of the feeling of superiority in blood, but also the feelings of inferiority towards her siblings and family cause an interesting dynamic within Melinda. At one side she feels herself unworthy of the name Geralds, but on the other hand she feels that she stands above the rest. It was a view and idea that would only grow stronger as her parents took in a nanny that happened to be a half-blood.

Clarissa would be the turning point and change in Melinda’s world and views, and she was one for the worst. Immediately upon arrival the two were at each other’s throat. Being the tomboy and difficult to handle child Melinda was, Clarissa had a great deal of trouble in dealing with the young girl. At the other hand Melinda found Clarissa’s tactics and strategies outrageous, finding a lot of bitterness in the way the nanny decided to often discipline Melinda. Ultimately it was a sad unfortunate case of a string of miscommunication and misunderstandings, and a nanny who was at the end of her wits. A strained relationship that marked them both and ultimately cultivated an archaic mindset.

Fun facts:
- Leader of the potions club
- Is a chaser in the Quidditch Gryffindor team
- Is really short, below the 150 cm (4’11) short
- Gryffindor prefect
 
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Garaile Thomas Scriven
Male, 16 y/o, April 1
Muggleborn
6th year, Slytherin

Wand: Hornbeam, 10 inches, Dragon Heartstring
Patronus: Weasel

Personality: With a sick pleasure of grandeur Garaile’s number one priority seems to be to do as much harm as he can. Exposing secrets, public shames. With his resourcefulness there is nothing the boy can’t get his hands on if he puts his mind to it. With an almost feverish determination the Slytherin is adamant in turning every stone in the corner to dig up the dirtiest secrets of his schoolmates. Nothing is safe once Garaile rounds the corner for he is a bloodhound once he has smelled his prey. A terrifying young man with an even scarier ability to break anyone he wants to break.

That was one side of Garaile. Underneath all the flamboyance and indiscretion there is a deeply cynical boy that seems to burn on pure hatred for the world. A misanthrope that is attracted to social gatherings, a moth that likes to explore the fire. Unashamed as he is the blonde will stop at nothing once he has latched on, fearing nothing but intimacy within this world. Underneath this all Garaile is just another teen trying to find his place in the world.

History: There is something wretched about the name ‘Scriven’. First the family tragedy that left only a pair of siblings behind. Then the malicious takeover from an outsider, forcefully marrying the sister as the brother was slowly isolated into madness. Then there was the decay of the family, even after the birth of a son. The family Scriven, the conception of Garaile. It was as if the pages of 'Wuthering Heights' came to life, bringing along a grim reality as there was no bittersweet end.

This was the reality Garaile came to live in. A family that survived tragedy, raised and fell in drama, and broke apart while refusing to actually part. Essentially Garaile grew up between two camps. There was his mother, a stately socialite, flamboyant and eccentric with a taste for luxuries. Then there was his father, a stern calculating businessman who had a taste for his secretaries. Both were equally manipulative, promising Garaile presents and goods if he just chose their side, making the other seem like the guilty party and them the victim. Yet they still refused to part, wishing to agonise each other further with Garaile as their leverage. Both tried to avoid the other as much as possible, with their son standing right in the middle.

It was from such a situation, such a culture, and the addition of a grandmother that was the only stability in Garaile’s life that a wicked nature came to be. Broken promises, bad intentions, faked relationships. To Garaile the world was a playground, a place for him to manipulate and tarnish. A place riddled with secrets that he had to expose. A theory Garaile found confirmed when he received the letter to Hogwarts along with a minister that explained that magic was real, but hidden. The world truly was a wretched place with layers upon layers of lies.

Fun Facts:
- Runs the school paper ‘Hog Topics’ along with the underground paper ‘The Weasel’
- Has a pygmy puff he named ‘Fatty’
- General information broker with no good intentions and zero discretion
- His boggart is intimacy


A/N: Forever unfinished, but it exists and it is here now for all to read. XD

Christmas traditions were fairly non-existent within the Scriven household. His mother threw herself into the arms of whatever man she was dating at the moment, whilst his father threw himself in lascivious parties and business. It was obvious that neither had plans to spend Christmas with their son. It was the result of the stubborn marriage that they refused to let go of, believing that they were tormenting the other more than that they terrorised themselves by staying married.

Before Hogwarts Garaile would have spend his Christmas with his grandmother. He would be packed and shipped over to his granny’s place. Usually he made the travel alone but when he was still at the age on which such would be heavily frowned down upon, his parents would convince the old woman to come and pick up her grandson. As soon as he hit the age where he understood to ask for directions and could dream his way around that stopped, however. When Garaile hit the age where he got his Hogwarts letter, a fancy boarding school for gifted children his parents believed, he wasn’t expected to come home at all anymore until the summer.

The wicked result was that Garaile had never really experienced a proper Christmas in his life. No Christmas songs, no sniffing out the house for presents. Surely, his grandmother made something special in her kitchen for Christmas, but overall she had called it all nonsensical and unnecessarily commercial. His parents in the meanwhile sent their obligatory ‘I’m sorry, next time, darling’ presents to him, like they did every time they failed to uphold a promise, which was often. The packages would wait for him underneath, neatly packed underneath the christmas tree.

That he found himself in an actual house with a family at the dining table in his sixth year of Hogwarts was beyond strange indeed. For some reason he had managed to snag himself a place at a properly decked Christmas table with a proper family that consisted of a father, a mother, and their dearly beloved child that had invited the misfit that was Garaile Scriven. Except Garaile wasn’t Scriven right now. He was Garaile Shamalamadingdong the third, or something along the lines. Not the muggleborn from York whose parents hated their marriage more than they loved their son, but a half-Indonesian pureblood from South Africa. His pasty skin and blonde hair were explained as colonial and a ‘complicated thing with genes’, while the lack of knowledge about his pureblood background and name was done away with because of the great distance and the little interaction between both societies.

“So, why are you at Hogwarts again?” mr. Runeswell asked once more, still wrapping his head around the elaborate story his daughter had frantically told him. Garaile smiled widely, his wild hair pointing in all directions as he side-eyed the Slytherin prefect. “Transfer student,” he replied, waving around his fork and feeling how his peer pinched him in the leg for it. The boy ignored it, kicking back the girl. “I transferred, momsie thought that the school was inappropriate.”

“And why don’t you have an accent?” mr. Runeswell narrowed his eyes, suspicion clear in his voice as his wife hit him on the arm. “Don’t,” she tried to hiss at him, but she alike went ignored. Another wolf-like grin spread across Garaile’s face. “Next you are going to ask me why I’m white!” he jeered, enjoying the shocked faces at the table. Even in the wizarding world dining table they knew what topics to avoid.

“I’m just kidding,” the blond exclaimed, taking another bite of his christmas meal. “This turkey is good, but to answer your question, mr. Runeswell,” the weasel spoke with his mouthful as he mischievously eyed the man. “Private tutoring, specially imported!” he recited the lies that Anice and he had agreed upon, enjoying the sight of the Slytherin girl sliding farther and farther down into her seat, wishing to disappear.
 
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Macondo; Taviraj; Quattrocento Sans;
☾ XVIII ☽
x
THE MOON.
Amaris Mooney

Nicknames // Moon, Ama, Ris, Lady of Whispers
Gender // Female
Species // Human
Age // 22
Appearance // Art by Hiba_tan

Stats.

Strength
Perception
Endurance
Charisma
Intelligence
Agility
Luck
Arcana

Inventory //
Meditation stones (small)
Incense
Diary
Swiss Army knife
Lighter
Blanket
Sleep medications
■■■■ 4
■■■■■■■ 7
■■■■ 4
■■■■■■ 6
■■■■■■ 6
■■■■ 4
■■ 2
■■■■■■■ 7

Granola bars
Bottled water
Charger + powerbank
Smartphone
Wet napkins
ballpointers
Sticky notes
Spare clothes

Arcana

Tarot Depiction // The Moon
Symbol of Choice // Crescent moon

Arcana // Pathiokinesis
At the very core her arcana powers focuses on emotional manipulation. Amaris is able to tap in and out of the emotions of her own and those surrounding her, either enhancing them or decreasing their effects. She can't create a new emotion, however unlike popular thought. Amaris only gets to work with emotions that already exist, negative and positive. She can increase bravado, breed animosity, however she can't create love, but instead only encourage it. The receiver and she herself need to have a seed of the emotion already, aware or unaware, before Amaris is able to perceive and tap into them.

// Doubts and Delusions
Encouraged by an instinct for survival Amaris is exceptionally in tune with the emotions of anxieties. As such doubt is the only emotion she is capable of 'creating'. She can tap into the anxieties of the crowd or a specific person and amplify them, effectively controlling them at their weakest spots. Often Amaris opts for a subtle route, where the victim grows weary and delusional in the long term. In this strategy Amaris feeds them their fears and anxieties in smaller portions, almost like whispers making it seem like a normal degradation of the mental stability. She can, however also make it crash at once, tumbling down her victims into a wave of depression ad effectively crippling them in all mental and emotional means.

// Dreams
The function of dreaming is often said to be needed to analyse, regulate, explain, or remember. To Amaris it just means more vulnerabilities that she can tap into. As part of both her long term and fast approach Amaris can manipulate the sort of dreams one may dream. Whether it will be filled with their own doubts and anxieties, or if they will dream of glory and wake up confident. This is also the most invasive power, as Amaris is capable of entering the dreams to find out about their dearest memories or deepest fears.

Personalia

Personality // Amaris is a person of high empathy, naturally understanding and easily swept up in emotion. Along with an instinct and tendency to help and aid those in pain Amaris finds it difficult to separate herself from the situation, often loading up more responsibilities that are not hers to carry. Despite her heightened perception to pick up on emotions and read people Amaris often has herself easily convinced to help more than she should, making her susceptible for abuse despite all her heightened senses.

Ever since the knowledge of the arcana came to her Amaris hasn't uttered a truth. Neither has she lied. She just goes in circles, talking herself around the situation and never answering questions. Where she was once a warm and sociable character the arcana has turned Amaris into a distant and wary person. Unsure of what the world is planning for her and unsure of what the whole arcana will mean Amaris has turned extremely careful, preferring to hide herself than to be seen. Keeping herself an unknown factor is as of current her strategy until she knows and understands who can be trusted and what the new world will be like.

Brief History // In seventeen days of time the world as she had known was gone. For a girl like Amaris that is an absolute disaster. For seventeen days Amaris felt absolutely out of the world, experiencing each and every fear from childhood to adulthood multiplied by ten all at once and following up one after another. It is unclear to her how much of it was a dream and what was reality, as the horrors all bled into each other in the darkness, attacking her and shaking her from the deepest core. When the seventeen days passed and the darkness seemed to fade another horror struck her. If her mind didn't wash away the female that she was once it was the destruction and decay that she faced of what she had once trusted.

With all her loved ones dead, or presumed to be dead and new found talents that she didn't know she had before Amaris was alone to face a world with even less rhyme and rule than the one she had grown up in. She joined groups, knowing that she wouldn't survive alone, but would leave them soon enough as soon as she felt threatened or discord happened. Amaris has started to live entirely for herself and herself alone, leaving much of herself as a former spectre of the past.
 
Euphoria Script; IM Fell Great Primer; Fjord One;
Art by: Mandy Jurgens
Adelaide Rosier
Full Name: Adelaide Giselle Rosier
Female, 26 y/o, August 8
Teacher, DADA - former Ravenclaw
Pureblood
Wand: Blackthorn, 12 inches, Phoenix Feather, Unyielding
Patronus: Hawk
Personality: Adelaide is, so to say, an unfocused perfectionist. Someone with too many curiosities and interests within her, but finding herself with too little time and attention to truly resolve herself. Her mother often complains that she never grew out of the 'curious-toddler-state' in which she asks too many why's and how's, easily carried away until the next why and how pops up for her. However, once she has latched on and committed herself, no matter how arduous, Adelaide is known to do it well. She is the person that dots her 'i's perfectly over its stem, that makes sure that all lines are aligned and straight, and that nothing is forgotten. This makes her uncompromising at times and hard to work with, leading to many broken relationships and lonely projects. Adelaide is someone that prefers figuring things out for herself rather than having someone hand her the answer. A hands-on lady of intense levels.

Though standing at a parallel to her somewhat intense personality there is a sensitive heart underneath. One that cries for the struggles of her family, and breaks for each failure, and struggles with each departure. It is that sensitivity that ultimately brought her back to Hogwarts, but also brings her the keen observational skills to recognise and pick up on the small details. Though once upon a time she tried to fight this emotional side of hers Adelaide is learning to embrace it now, exploring new ways in expressing herself, and learning how to let go of the strings of control.

History: The Rosier family was once a powerful pure-blood family originating from France. Considered to be amongst the Sacred Twenty-Eight they put much of their influence into advocating the expulsion of muggleborns and other creatures from the magical world. However, ever since the fall of Voldemort in the Second Wizarding War and the shame that was brought upon the Rosier family after the arrest of two of their members they have been working hard to keep their head up high in the eye of scrutiny.

Her mother drilled Adelaide and her siblings to be the best they could be and beyond. A pressure under which Adelaide suffered a lot. Perfection was key and there was no room to slack of. Such was the price the Rosier family had to pay for their shameful role in the war. The fact that the opinions within the family hadn't changed much was of no matter, they were simply instructed not to utter them. Political correct answers, fake smiles, practiced manners, they were part of the reality in which Adelaide found herself. A reality that weighted heavily on a young female that was out of breath and in need of freedom. It developed into an obsessive need for control and perfection.

It wasn't until Adelaide could start attending Hogwarts that she got that breath of fresh air. It was the first time she got out of the bubble that was her family and the pureblood supremacist world, a step out of the little bubble in which she grew up. That she was sorted into Ravenclaw was another blessing in disguise, though her parents made sure to write to her their disappointment in her inability to continue the tradition. It was in Hogwarts that Adelaide could explore who she was, rather than who she had to be. It was a freedom in which Adelaide had no idea how to conduct herself, but which she enjoyed immensely. It was an environment in which she learnt that what she hated the most weren't the muggleborns or the half-breeds like her family had always ingrained upon her, but the suffocating traditions and protectionism that existed within her circles.

That Adelaide settled for a career as an auror instead of pursuing a political career, or something more ambitious, was a surprise to everyone. Her parents had wanted for her to chose a position with more influence, while her schoolmates had known Adelaide as an outcast of her own social circle that refused to play to their beat. Instead the job as an auror was chosen as a compromise. A place within the ministry, like the wish of her family, but also just enough outside the sphere of influence to be useful; as per her own wishes. It was a decision riddled with unhappiness for the former-ravenclaw.

The career and life of an auror is a difficult and dangerous one. With her wit and her investigative skills Adelaide was often put on difficult track and apprehension cases, along with the occasional kidnapping case. And while she was good at what she did the stories were often dire and wretched, with more-often than not a bitter ending of some note. It was a time that required Adelaide to swallow down her own thoughts and opinions and had to close her heart and shut her eyes. A fatal combination as with that she also shut down her greatest talent, resulting in the loss of a colleague. Horrified the female realised that she couldn't continue down this path and promptly resigned, handing in her cloak and badge. A fact her parents jumped upon immediately as they saw a new chance to push their plans onto the woman. However, having foreseen that Adelaide announced her new career as the new DADA professor of Hogwarts.

Back to her roots Adelaide is slowly reinventing herself as she returns to the place of her fondest memories, exploring pieces she had thought she had lost and finding new surprising sides to herself. For all the observational powers Adelaide has she had forgotten to watch over herself.

Fun facts:
- Is infamous for having been part of every club that was available in Hogwarts, though she never stayed around for long as her interests took her elsewhere.
- Also rather infamous for being unable to have friends and partners at the same time because of her stringent and intense work ethic
- Is actually really self-conscious about her freckles since her mother used to call them 'imperfections'
- Has already plundered the school archives to read the studentfiles of the currently attending students and more...'
- Often mistaken for a Slytherin because of her nickname 'snake', but that honestly refers more to the fact that she always has cold hands and feet. People have sworn that her body temperature drops to freezing points when she is asleep
- Actually has never dated, crushed, confessed or done anything in the romance department.


Slytherin was her blood. Her inheritance. Her fate. Her identity.

When Adelaide Giselle Rosier stepped onto the train of Hogwarts Express her mother had made sure to remind the girl of such once more.

She was a Rosier. Part of one of the greatest and most noble pureblood families, part of the sacred twenty-eight because they could trace their lines far enough back to proof that they were pure. Truly pure. Not just claim that they were. Her family had the history, the wealth, even the shame of a true pureblood. For they fought until the bitter end, they fought and lost and were condemned for fighting for their blood, their purity, their sacrality.

Slytherin was just another part of that. Just another milestone to reach. Another task to check off, like the lists of tasks that Adelaide checked off on a daily base to appease her parents. To keep them from yelling, from disappointment, from anything. Slytherin was just another part of that. Not a house. Not a potential network. Neither a home, or an identity. A task. One that was currently sitting at the top of her list.

When her brother was sorted into Slytherin the family had broken into celebration. In their old ancestral estate they celebrated the continuation of the family line, their pride, and the tradition. Adelaide remembered feeling relieved, even happy for her brother. Though the feelings never went beyond that, nor understanding. It was just another milestone to reach. Another task to complete.

Her sister being sorted into Slytherin had the family in glee. Honour was returning to their house, so her parents claimed. Her brother was by that time a Slytherin prefect. Pride and honour was to return with the new generation of Rosier doing so well. Adelaide couldn’t see it. Again only relief took her, but she didn’t understand, or share the sentiment.

The day she sat down in the train, waiting to depart for her first day of Hogwarts her mother came to her. A smile of confidence and pride played around her painted lips. Her air unusually warm and glimmering.

“You, Adelaide shall be my magnus opus. Our return to the top.”

Those were heavy words for an eleven years old. A duty Adelaide felt unwilling to carry. No words were said, however. Answers only served to upset her mother, and her mother was of fragile mind when things don't go her way.

“Remember your blood. Remember your duty. Remember our tradition.”

Those were her last words before Adelaide was left alone. Alone in the cabin, a long ride from home towards the next milestone. Just another task until the next one would come.

“Adelaide Rosier!”

The voice of the headmistress was stern when her name was summoned. The banquet went quiet as the students recognised the name. Another Rosier, one of the disgraced ones, part of the rising ones. Her siblings had made good names for themselves. Her brother a headboy by now, her sister a prefect. Surely the youngest would proof to be just as great?

When the hat was placed upon her head Adelaide closed her eyes. Blocking out the whispers, ignoring the burning stares, focusing on the hat.

“Slytherin?”

A voice whispered and Adelaide took in a deep breath.

“No,” the voice breathed once more in her mind, contemplating in a hum.

“No, there is no ambition in you. Pressed out off you by the weight of tradition.”

Adelaide felt her heart jump at that, a choke crawling up and tears burning behind her closed eyelids. She wondered why. Why did those words touch her so?

“You dislike it, never would have chosen it yourself,” the hat continued in her mind. Adelaide vehemently wanted to deny it, but her heart sung another song and she bit down her lip for she knew the truth.

“Indeed, as I thought.”

One last hum escaped the hat before it finally hollered its answer;

“RAVENCLAW!”

The room was stunned, Slytherin was silenced. Their confident smiles disappeared as eyes turned towards the older Rosiers. Adelaide would never know the expression her siblings had carried. Afraid as she was for their reaction, their rejection.

Ravenclaw rose, hands clapping, and cheers rising. They had acquired someone valuable. A breaker of forms and norms. They could see it. She had proven herself to be so already, and more.

“A mind like yours is wasted anywhere else,” the hat told Adelaide before slipping off her head and allowing her to leave. Adelaide’s feet have never felt so light as she embraced her new house, welcoming herself into the colours blue and bronze.

Slytherin was her blood.

Ravenclaw was where she belonged.
 
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Emrys 'Ambrose' Jernigan

Male, 21 years old, July 27
Muggleborn
Teacher Assistant, Hufflepuff

Wand: Willow, Unicorn hair, 10 inches, springy

Personality: Named after the legendary wizard Merlin this young muggleborn is very unlike his namesake. Due to a difficult background, and frequent bullies throughout his life Emrys has slowly grown into silence. However, despite his muteness Emrys has some exceptional wit, which often shows through in sign language and writing. It is proof of a ready mind, which has often saved him. A dreamer that hopes that the coldness in his world will fade away, and a realist that understands that it has to come from himself. Emrys is, unlike the great wizard Merlin, not promised to be a great warlock, but promises to be the best he can be.

Infinitely loyal to his friends Emrys does possess some Hufflepuff traits next to a hardworking character. A fact often overlooked by his general conduct and sarcasm. However, one has to understand that Emrys loves to tease those he likes best. Though he never shall be known for being talk active he is always readily available when it comes down to pranks, finding great joy in the exasperation of another. Though it is never maliciously meant and always in good humour it has earned him a reputation of sorts.

History: It was pure coincidence that Emrys was given two name of Merlin, or perhaps somewhere his mother had always recognised the hidden talents within her son despite her ignorance of the world beyond. In any case, Emrys was born as the oldest son to the family Jernigan. A struggling muggle family running circles in poverty. His parents had been much too young when they married and tragedy struck them much too early as well. Where they had been satisfied and happy with just having each other healthy their tides soon turned when Emrys's father fell chronically ill and out of work. The fact that his mother soon fell pregnant with his twin sisters hadn't helped the situation either as it set the whole family back and in debt. His father's continuous feeling of inadequacy did no wonders to the whole mood and situation within the household either.

As the oldest child Emrys had a particular sensitivity towards the financial struggles of his parents. Though his sisters were often shielded away from the pain it wasn't uncommon for Emrys to hear every fight over every coin that entered and left the house. His father's growing temper helped no less as soon Emrys grew to fear the violent outbursts and the screaming. The stress that accumulated from that expressed itself in exploding vases, and spontaneous combustion of glass. A phenomena that helped nothing either in the already fragile world of Emrys. It prompted him into losing his voice, effectively shutting down a way for him to express himself as he no longer dared. This was yet another pain for his father whose outburst now would frequently target the boy for going mute.

When the mandatory visit from the ministry of Magic came to inform Emrys of his talents a new revelation opened up for him. A revelation, but also a crisis as his parents wondered and worried how they were to pay for this new education, and what uncertain roads it may bring. The question where the boy had gotten such talents from also rose up, making the household grow even more tense than it was before. That summer the stress got to Emrys in particular, prompting another small combustion to happen that left their kitchen in tatters. It was right after the incident that his parents decided to cease the discussions and send the boy away to Hogwarts.

Emrys struggled adapting into this new and foreign world, first because of his muggleborn status, later on because of his continuous silence. The fact that his family seemed to have grown to fear him with each return he makes, and a general inability to understand his new world, Emrys soon decided to stay behind in Hogwarts for his holidays. Looking for every excuse to stay away from home Emrys soon found himself at the mercy of a certain professor Hildegard, his professor in potions, who offered him a place to stay if he was willing to give away some labour. A position Emrys then stuck to for the rest of his years on Hogwarts and found great comfort within even after graduating, prompting him into accepting a position as a teacher's assistant right after graduation.

Fun facts:
- Knows sign language, but is also a good visual (through drawings and images) communicator, with an expressive face
- Former leader of the Potions club at the behest of professor Virgilius Hildegard, a position he gladly served
- Currently doing research on alchemy properties for his academic career
- Coffee hater, he prefers tea
- After graduating he has only been home once for half a day
- Still struggles with selective muteness, but at least he can speak now, albeit he prefers not to do so and does so rarely
- Is currently also developing new ways of communication without the need for a voice, or for him to speak at all
- Voted for most mysterious in his year because students were curious to what his voice sounded like, but they never got to hear
 
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Sareen Ibn Nadim
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Race/Nationality: Human/Arab-Persian
Occupation: Merchant & alchemist
Personality: Of pleasant character Sareen is like any merchant, a man of charm and wit, ready to haggle and negotiate for the best deal for himself and rarely speaking in the interest of another. Instilled within him is the natural reservedness from the Arabs, instilled with their history of philosophy and jurisprudence. There is little the man takes offence to, used as he is to be disrespected as a trader while on the road, and above all to the differences in culture of the places he visits. A connoisseur of the scholarly arts Sareen rarely passes by an opportunity to dabble himself within the deeper folds of higher education and arcane knowledge contained within the Persian empire and its allies. An indiscrete dabbling that has earned the man quite a reputation as rumours whisper that within his learned mind there are curses and charms stored within, ready to be used. Some say it is his half Arab and Persian blood coursing through him, born from an union between the Ghulam and Foosla. Other sources suggest he may actually be a djinn, or born from an unholy copulation with a djinn, fulfilling the deepest darkest desires of luck seekers who wish to strike rich. Nevertheless, there is no proof of any talent for magic from the man other than his keen interest in anything that goes outside of the average human understanding, rune and all.

Biography: Ghazaleh was a plagued woman, born to a wealthy Persian merchant and described to live like a princess. A plagued woman haunted nightly by the images of creatures she didn’t understand. Doctor and quack, all were invited to cure the lady of her ailments, as long as they worked in discretion and promised a cure. None helped and her hysterics remained. Once the object of envy for women and lust for men, everyone believed Ghazaleh to be the bride of a prince, a future king. Perhaps she would have been, if it wasn’t for the misfortune of her ailing mind and the visions disturbing her.

A constant invasion, she would describe it later, when she was finally cured, but not after that a mysterious Arab had visited her, claiming to have the cure, wanting no payment and leaving behind only his name ‘Nadim’. Months later her belly swelled and Nadim couldn’t be found. Nine months later Sareen was born, hidden from the public and presented as a foundling, another future servant and employee of his very own grandfather.

Ghazaleh would eventually marry a much older man, hidden in seclusion and never to return to her maternal home in which Sareen was groomed into servitude without any knowledge of his own fortune of heritage. That was until ’Nadim’ returned, claiming his son and taking the boy with him to travel. Years later once more and Sareen returned to the Persian empire, now a merchant himself, but with seemingly no mind to rival his mother’s inheritance or lay claim on it.

If anyone asks, Sareen will claim that his mother was a simple Persian woman and his father an Arab merchant.

Abilities:
Endowed - Warp; to warp or to decay means to understand what's warped or decomposed to a molecular level. To know what components and building blocks hold it together or keep it apart. It is to know what the container is and what the filling is, how it breathes and reacts to every shift and change. It is all that and the ability to envision it. It starts with the ability to reform stone to sand and sand to stone, but ends with life itself. Each organism, different and unique, each breath not the same. Saree can bend, break and mend, but not return life or return to a previous state he hasn’t been able to witness or see. An old wound stays a a scar, a missing limb won’t return, death cannot breathe again.

Literate but not formally educated
Trained in martial arts
Multilingual

Other:
Has no ability when it comes down to drinking alcohol
Has a slight obsession with gems and minerals, they fascinate him
 
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Eloise Baratheon
Female, 19, Noble from Westeros

Personality: Savvy | Good-natured | Curious | Loyal | Intuitive | Lively | Mischievous | Cheeky | Idealistic | Whimsical | Stubborn | Cunning

General Appearance: Fair in appearance Eloise has the appearance of a typical Baratheon. With dark hair and light eyes and even lighter skin she looks like nobility, with a slight frame that suggests she doesn't perform any heavy labour and a healthy glow that reveals she never has to worry about her meals. However, in the way she holds herself, easy, light and playful it is hard to see the noble within her wasn't it for the natural elegance she emits.

Talents: Greensight | Archery | Reading | Writing | Speaking | Investigation
Inabilities: Embroidery | Etiquette | Boredom | Stopping | Fatalism | Barren

Biography: Born within nobility Eloise immediately had certain responsibilities on her shoulders. Poise and elegance were expected from the young lady and while Eloise was a good student and a fast learner her heart yearned for everything but embroidery- and dance lessons.

As the winds of Storms End continued to blow at her, carrying whispers of far away with them, Eloise started to dream of places outside of the castle. Eloise didn't always understand the whispers, but found that they often spoke of the future. It was an exciting prospective, until she learnt at a tender age that the future wasn't all excitement and weather forecast. When the winds carried the tale of her brother's accident the girl had trashed and cried, but found herself ultimately unable to prevent the event from taking away the sight of her beloved brother. She was only two back then, unable to communicate efficiently and unable to understand, but the memory lingered as everlasting guilt.

The true turning point in understanding the tragic downside of her powers came later. When Eloise was ten her brother Arley married. It was an arranged marriage, but despite the politics involved the two of them had loved each other in a way that made Eloise jealous. She had been, after all, always been the object of her brother's affection. Challenging the new lady Baratheon the young stag was unwilling to give up her brother so easily, but did not realise how little time she had with her sister in law until a dream whispered to her the worst possible outcome.

Guilt stricken the girl did not know how to deliver the message and when her brother and his wife announced the pregnancy Eloise gripped her heart and prayed everyday. She hoped that fate could be changed and picked up on studies for delivery. Eloise's attitude towards his brother's wife changed into a caring and sweet one, ready to do anything for her sister-in-law if it eased her pregnancy. None of it changed the outcome, however. Her beloved brother lost both his wife and his child within a single day, like the winds had predicted to her. The maiden never stopped blaming herself for the loss.

Somehow, despite keeping such away from her, Eloise learned of politics abroad and of the lives she wasn't part of. Somehow knowledge poured within her while her tutors barred her from the books. Part of it was her own slyness, sneaking into the chamber of the maester to read and interacting with the servants while the wind continued to blow in her ears. The young lady became a learned lady, quickly popping herself to be a talent that couldn't be wasted.

Giving into the insatiable curiosity of the female the Baratheons arranged for Eloise tutors all around, which brought her into contact with the Lannisters and especially Kaylee Lannister. There she was encouraged to continue her studies of magic in Essos, where she headed to at the age of 16.

Or so she planned.

An accident, an ambush, the betrayal of the lion. Eloise isn't sure what happened, but she remembers the sigil of the Lannister house paying handsomely to get her out of the way. An act that would have her disappear from the stage for three years before she finally returned, calloused by her experience and wishing for nothing more than justice and the truth.
 
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