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 Posted: Wed Jun 30, 2010 1:34 pm
O.O really? I thought I might have to add more, and was planning too >.<
Everyone elses app are much better..... I could of done better but that stupid anti-member edit problem......
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Posted: Wed Jun 30, 2010 3:44 pm
Don't worry, it was enough to prove you can RP. ^^
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Posted: Thu Jul 01, 2010 3:06 am
Username: AriaofRevelations
Character Name: Katashi Rin Mitsuri
House or Occupation: Slytherin
Year or Age: 15
Ability Wanted: Legilimancy
RP Example: (written before lanfaer had me be slytherin)
Katashi strode down the musty dungeon corridor towards the entrance to the slytherin dorms. He confidently entered the common room using the password he had gotten out of an unsuspecting first year, and strode inside in the middle of the night. Rumars said that there was a wizard here who knew some of "their" old spells. He didn't know them…and he had to change that. Acting quickly he walked around the room. There appeared to be only one person in the room awake. That person, unfortunately for them, had not yet noticed him.
Katashi quickly immobilized and silenced the man, before he could as much as look up from his
Copy of, "the daily prophet". Kitashi walked over to the man. kitashi plugged his own nose and uncapped a small container of potion. The vapors were quickly absorbed by the man and his eyes went cross. Kitashi closed the potion. Touched the man's head and looked into his eyes, their faces mere inches apart.
The potion had eliminated the man's ability to concentrate, greatly enhancing kitashi's illegally Gained and unregistered "talent." the proximity also aided the process. Kitashi began to whisper phrases relevant to his search. The rumors, any person who would want to know curses of that nature, or anything else that would help. The potion did its job, and forced the persons mind to follow each and every word, bringing whatever the man's mind associated with the words. When he was done he was left with three leads. The final word kitashi said to the man was fight, and he searched the man’s thoughts for someone this person wouldn’t like. Kitashi replaced himself in this man’s memories with that chosen enemy, and made it seem like theft of his homework. Kitashi then used magic to render the man unconscious, and threw his homework in the fireplace to assist his cover. He repeated this process with each of the three leads. After learning the spell, Kitashi left. As quietly as he came…until he ran into a perfect. As soon as the man started to question him, he used a spell to paralyze the prefect.He was running out of time. He quickly caught the man’s eye, and replaced himself in the prefect's mind with the man he had already framed for the theft of four slitherin student’s homework.he ran back to his common room as quickly as he could.
(this wouldn’t work against an actual rpc... at least not this smoothly, but these are just generic made up, non player students… if a rpc woke in this scenario I’d be in for a mess...it seems rushed to me personally....but i'm tired.)
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Posted: Thu Jul 01, 2010 5:31 pm
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Posted: Sun Jul 04, 2010 4:03 pm
Username: Lanfaer
Character Name: Aiden
House or Occupation: Ravenclaw
Year or Age: 11/First Year
Ability Wanted: Werewolf
RP Example:
Reave stoically listened to his old padawans, remembering well how they grew up. Strong Wing had always been the type to eat first and ask questions later. The time they'd been training and Reave had flawlessly shoved his training lightsaber up Strong Wing's bottom was the most memorable, since when Strong Wing turned around he ate both the lightsaber and a piece of Reave's arm. It had taken weeks for it to regenerate, but it had been well worth the look of mortified rage on Strong Wing's face after it was done. Scythe was also different. When raising her he'd taught her to control her rages, but it seemed that she had taken his teachings to the extreme by cutting them all out. It was a foolish attempt to control something that was meant to be lived with, not controlled ruthlessly. But, Scythe was a grown woman, and a Jedi Council Member in her own right, so he wouldn't tell her how to run her life. Not anymore, anyway. However, what Strong Wing had said was incorrect, and he would say so. Shaking his head, Reave placed the Holocron back within his stomach for safe keeping. "This Fade cannot be eaten, Strong Wing. No one knows what causes it, let alone how to stop it."
Then Isis approached, and what he had feared all along of happening finally happened. Reave was never really good at hiding his sadness. Even after thirty years of not being a jedi, he had almost five hundred of being one, and because of that his control of his emotions were slipping. How do you deal with emotions that you've long suppressed? And now they'd led Isis to asking the very questions he'd hope to never have to answer, let along explain, to anyone. But how could he refuse when he'd asked her to follow him? Or rather, demanded that she trust him? The others had things to lose still, unlike him. He had to tell them, but Reave at first couldn't bring up the will to do so. The pain was back in his eyes, infinitely stronger than it had been before. And he remembered.
Walking out underneath the two moons of the farming planet Dantooine, a silver wolf padded across the grass, using its sense of smell to search for the scent of Tubarian Roses, the personal smell of its long missing mate. The moonlight was the only source of luminescence in the entire region of this planet, and the wolf knew it. But it was always said that those taken by the Fade always returned in the middle of nowhere, where no one was around. No one knew why, but many believed that it was the only way the Fade could bring them back unnoticed. That the Fade was in fact some alien species, a sentient and physical race that thrived on kidnapping people for their own personal goals. The wolf thought otherwise, but that was why he was out here, hoping for another chance. It was supposed to be only a year and a day that those taken were gone, brought back at the exact hour they had been taken.
It had been ten years.
The wolf's eyes suddenly perked up, however, when he caught a scent. It was the Tubarian Roses, the scent of his mate! The flowers only bloomed on Hoth, one of the few things that could, and for some reason the scent of his mate had always been that of those roses, though they'd never been to Hoth together, nor she ever at all. So it HAD to be her! Rushing forward with renewed vigor, the wolf literally blurred across the surface of the planet, seeking the source of the scent as if his life depended on it. And in a very literal meaning of the phrase, it might very well have depended on it. Before him was a lump on the ground, silvery gold hair rippling down its back and with a body as slim and erotic as a Hapan aphrodisiac. Coming to a stop before it, the wolf looked into the startled blue eyes of its mate, and yelped with happiness. However, instead of reacting instantly with recognition, she recoiled in fear. Thinking for a moment, the wolf then grinned and opened its mouth to speak, sure that it was th ten years apart that had caused her to become confused and forget his favorite form. "It is me, my love! Reave! Your Husband!" He said such words without thinking, without checking her over with the Force to make sure she was okay.
She wasn't, and she never would be.
Reave looked down at Isis, a single tear falling down the side of his face. Then he stepped back from her, though leaving just enough room for her to keep her touch on him. "It took my wife, Isis. The Fade took her for ten long years, longer than it had taken anyone in memory. And when she returned..." He stopped, his entire aching heart and soul in his expression that he tried so hard to hind. The memory of his wife running in terror, screaming that he was a demon, that she had no husband, especially not a spirit of evil. Her frenzied cries when he changed back to his human form and tried to hold her, and finally the knife to the ribs as she fought him off. It was too much, almost, the memories returning all at once. Reave instantly used the Force to take his memories and suppress them, but not even the Force could hold them off forever. In short, Reave could still feel them, and remember them, but it was at a point that both were tolerable. But even then, another tear streamed down his face before he could stop it. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "She had no memory of me, of our Marriage or our time together. In short, she was, by her own memories, never my wife. I left her with some people, and even now pay them to watch and take care of her."
Looking up at Isis, his fists clenched and his eyes turned gold once again, apparently being his preferred color. "That is why I caution all of you, because if this Fade takes you, you won't return the same person. In all cases people had returned completely different. That is why I fight it, to stop others from getting hurt, having their lives ruined. It is also why I know it can threaten the lives of those in the galaxy, and it cannot be easily defeated. And it is why I search for its origin, to stop it."
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Posted: Sun Jul 04, 2010 4:10 pm
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Posted: Sun Jul 04, 2010 10:56 pm
Username: ..s.k.i.t.t.l.e.s..
Character Name: Professor Ochala Novene Rothnight
House or Occupation: Transfiguration Proctor
Year or Age: Thirty Three
Ability Wanted: True Seer (The reason being shall be explained with explicit and precise detail, in the nature as to WHY my character will be as such. Since most True Seers are very, very rare.)
RP Example:
The cafe emptied, bodies moving about her as if she were a mere pebble tossed into the river of life. Euphémie's character had a tendency to have others ripple around her, noticing only that she stood in their way and proceeded in another direction that best suited their needs, without her ability to cope with this fact, she may have crumbled under the weight of loneliness; a lesser man would have died many years ago. But the french woman was far too use to this kind of treatment that it seemed just the same things over and over again, just a different day. The man with the long hair stared down at his own work, contemplating ponderables, Euphémie's eyes rested upon him for a few fleeting moments and decided that it was best to avoid bothering him, possibly sturring his imaginative process, and Lord only knows, she would hate to suffer that kind of nonsense herself. To have some stranger just interrupt what could have been a most wonderful thought. Notwithstanding, beside having beautiful hair, they had little in common. Magic was one thing, most humans, aside from her family members, could conjure something in their valiant efforts. That counted as nothing in the eyes of human interaction. 'I see you can do magic, wow, so can I!' And how far could that conversation take them?
Darlin' had left the building, Euphémie watched her leave, intent on something more important than standing around here like mindless Euphémie had been doing for the last ten minutes, she must have looked absolutely absurd! "Il n'y a rien à la chance, tout est destiné d'être." Blue eyes met the door behind her, whispering to herself in her native language, and proceeded to allow herself a dignified exit stage left, though she hardly assumed it was possible at this point in time; her form left the cafe regardless. A crowd of people walked around her as she entered the sidewalk just outside the cafe. Barely any of them took notice, but knew right away that someone had been standing there. Talking to one another through technological devices that Euphémie could hardly understand, let alone operate without having to ask a complete stranger to get the little thing to stop yelling at her on its little illuminated screen. More adolescents passed her, mocking one another with the foulest language, Euphémie almost wanted to plug her ears, but they never lost her attention. 'How do they remain friends after calling one another such derogatory terms?' Her mind sounded up from the recesses of her vacant expression, it had been silent for some time now, and it was almost a relief to know that it was indeed still there.
Embellishing her thoughts that people did strange things without a need for understanding, that it was all a part of the grand scheme of life, her shoeless form crossed the street once again, her hands clutching her purse to her lanky form as if paranoid that those around her were waiting for the opportune time to steal it from her when she least expected it. No. Euphémie was not one to believe that people were genuinely that evil, but there have been worse things conjured up in the minds of mortal man, and even more so, worse things conjured up and commenced. Like murder. Rape. And abuse. Humanity was a funny, funny thing...
As she traveled towards the parts of the city the masses had not congregated, Euphémie felt more and more alone than ever before. There were no strange eyes, looming down at her like a twinkle of starlight exploding onto the velvet void of the night sky. She could almost hear their sickening laughter, singing her faults like violin bow cascading across the strings to which it loved. Though the melody was one she had heard many times before, and growing particularly old might she add, she couldn't imagine a time where that demonic tune should stop. It would be the time and place in her life where Euphémie had become completely invisible, and as long as she was still stared at without any sign of stopping, then she still existed.
A quiet park bench was her final place of rest, crossing her legs so her feet no longer had to bare the coldness of the concrete, not enough trekking from others to even warm it. She was the only one in the park at this time. The sun, the trees, the bustling grasses behind her in the vacant field, and the muffled sounds of human interaction just beyond this patch of heaven's reach, were all that surrounded her. It was as if she had existed on a different plane all together, and the city of Hope was so close to touch, and yet so far that not even a vessel of the seas could cross that ocean. Euphémie smiled at her thoughts and folded her hands neatly into her lap. Tomorrow would be another day, she could worry about the importance of this and that when the time came for it, but for now. It was Euphémie, this sky, that ground below and all the gravity in between.
Times were changing. Euphémie could remember a place way back when, where people spent more time enjoying life rather than just surviving it. The park used to be filled with strangers that Euphémie could have introduced herself too. Back when she was just a teenager, the french girl had an allotment of friends all of whom she saw on a regular basis. But today, this exact moment, had been of a different melody. There was no laughter from children swinging happily too and fro upon the playground swings, and no adults chatting amongst themselves about the hectic life of a parent. Euphémie missed that song, and felt that her heart could bear it no longer. Besides, dinner with Proctor was vastly approaching and she would be late more sooner than not. Packing up her discontent the girl did not offer her final glances, just the last bit of memory or her presence still to linger on the bench she had once occupied.
Trekking onward home, shoeless and rather moody, Euphémie stopped at her favorite bakery and bought Proctor a marzipan chocolate cake with huge amounts of berries draped over and inside. Both of them shared a need for their fruit to be ultimately sugary, and with how much the cake had been in the end, it was worth the smile on Proctor's face. He had asked such pleasantries be left to the birds and those who have bipolar syndrome, whatever that meant. Euphémie thanked the baker, carrying her newly purchased items and her tired self onward towards her home. There was the cafe where she had met Hope, Darlin', and the man with long beautiful hair. The coffee shop she had snapped the picture of the lovers eating booger cake. And finally, she could see the tops of the houses that surrounded her neighborhood, rising up from beyond the skyline. Her house had seemed to be smack dab in the center of their court, and it was the largest by far.
Euphémie could not hear the voices of those who had been inside just this morning before she left, having placed her head to the door to hear that all familiar silence Proctor enjoyed, but never really found. The girl let herself in shutting the door tightly behind her and making a hard left into their kitchen towards the refrigerator, nestling the cake in a safe place inside. "I am home Proctor!" Euphémie broke the silence with her voice, alerting her father that she had returned upon promise to do so every day near this time. He did not answer, as she suspected he wouldn't probably fell asleep with a book draped over his slumbering form.
The dining hall, branched off from the kitchen, was larger than the standard family size. The table could fit twelve people, and it was here that Proctor often held lessons. Even the wisest and most well off magic users came to Proctor to learn--anything he was teaching really. Proctor was a strong voice amongst those that could use any type of magic great and small. Books and paperwork still lined the cherry oak eating table those who had been using them neglected to put anything back, which made Euphémie roll her eyes in discontent. Letting out a deep sigh, the french woman placed all the encyclopedias back to their respective shelves, which lined the walls of the dining hall making this room more of a library more than anything. "Proctor! Its time to ge'et' up!" She rang again, knowing the sound of her voice traveled in this house, his only vice would have been to listen.
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Posted: Sun Jul 04, 2010 11:00 pm
Approved. And...
JESUS ******** CHRIST!!! THAT"S A LONG POST!!!
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