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7 Sep 2020, 02:36
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Trunk
Name of Ability Applying for: Listed Above Each Section (3)
Stats: No change

FEARLESS:
Reducio
Growing up in the wild surrounded by various creatures both magical and non wasn't the only thing that had helped bolster Kateri's resolve. If it wasn't crossing paths with a brown bear or sharing space with a pack of coyotes, there was always her brothers testing her on a daily basis. Hiding in cabinets, under her bed at night after a spooky campfire story, often teaming up to jump out at her while walking down the path to their home after a late night shift. For years now her brothers had turned her fear into a game. Little by little she had become immune and less jumpy, eventually finding ways to turn the tide. Give the boys a little fright of their own.

The winter break in-between her first year of Ilvermorny had meant plenty of family time and her other brothers being more boisterous than usual as they had been cooped up due to the recent snowstorms. Her eldest sibling was staying behind at the magical school so that meant unfortunately no "big brother" protection. It had set the eleven year old on edge but hopefully with the storm dwindling that day her younger brothers would find interest in playing outside in their self made fort set back into the woods behind their family home. Catching a break from their torment, Kateri had decided to spend the morning indoors helping her mother. The pair kept busy organizing their canned goods and smoked meats until lunchtime, the family sitting together for a quick meal before Kateri's father stated he would be taking the twins with him into town. As the three left, Kateri was given their task of chopping the logs outside for their wood-stove, something she had never been allowed to do. A sense of responsibility swelled in the young girl's chest and eyes brightened as she rushed out the door, her mother calling after her to wear her scarf.

Chopping the wood had been a more tedious task than expected... What had started out as a way for her to prove herself to her father and show her brothers she wasn't just some wimpy little girl ended up turning into a heavy ache in her limbs, sweat making her hair stick to her forehead and back of her neck. A brisk winter breeze picked up and nipped at her cheeks as the eleven year old took a seat on one of the stumps behind her, axe resting against her leg. Kateri's mind wandered as most children's do... she had already chopped a decent amount of pieces so far--surely her father would be happy with that?

"Lee-Lee." Her mother's gentle voice drew her gaze over her shoulder to see the woman standing in the doorway holding the hand of her youngest brother who had just turned two. Kateri jumped to attention hoping her mother didn't think she had been slacking off and snatched at the axe. "Y-Yes?" Her cheeks flushed and if she were lucky it would appear from the cold and not feeling as if she were caught. Guiding the little boy over to Kateri, her mother lifted him into a makeshift seat, only his ears peeking out from the furs he was wrapped up in. "I need you to watch your brother while I bring Tóta Grandmother another stash of dried herbs. It will only be a few minutes." Her voice always soothed Kateri, slow and steady as it strummed at the girl's ears. Kateri gave a swift nod before her mother took her leave, more responsibility! A small coo gurgled from under the lump of furs and wool hat as it shifted position. Kateri walked over and gave a small pat atop her brother's head. "I'll take good care of you!" She beamed down at the little boy. Never had she been left to such a task, not at this age and not with two important things at once!

Returning to the wood, energized from her mother's task she set forth protecting her little brother, Kateri was unaware of the eyes that carefully studied the two children from the treeline. No noise interrupted the girl's steady swing of the axe, only a crack of the wood as it split and occasional chortle from her sibling. Another wave of sweat had made Kateri slip off her jacket, tossing it across her brother's lap like a blanket. He giggled as she turned to stack the last bit of wood together, tying small bundles off so she could carry them inside easier. "Eehhgrr! È:rhar" The toddler squealed trying to form words. Kateri laughed as she finished tying off the bundle. "No, Brother...È:rhar," She corrected before adding slowly. "Dohhgg." She stretched the English translation out. A low growl shot a bolt of electricity down the girl's spine, freezing her in place. Another giggle and gurgle from her brother as she caught him reaching out his chubby little arms towards something. Turning her head slowly, her pulse quickened as she hoped with every fiber of her being one of their huskies had simply jumped their fence. No such luck as Kateri turned as a ratty looking coyote, gnarled pelt and ears pinned back came into view.

A white hot anger filled the girl. Her hand snatched at the axe that rested at her feet, the movement making the coyote give it's full attention to the girl now that she was a threat to his snack that sat nicely wrapped like a Christmas turkey. Without a second thought the eleven year old brandished the axe in both hands and yelled at the coyote hoping the noise would get it to back off. It only made the predator more angry, stepping closer to her brother as drool foamed along its gums. Flashing its teeth, the coyote snapped at the boy making Kateri stomp forward, her heart like a battering ram against her chest but adrenaline fueling her body. Sending it on autopilot, a primal reaction from deep within to defend her brother, all other thoughts shoved aside. The toddler seemed to realize this was not a playful pup and began to whimper, winding himself up into a fit of crying. Locking eyes with the coyote, Kateri still holding both ends of the axe stomped again and waved it in the direction of the animal. "GO! GET!" She mock growled remembering how her father had taught her to not take your eyes off a predator when in the woods. Snarling as it flashed its teeth before lunging at her brother and catching hold of her coat. Kateri half screamed, half yelled and a little off balance lunged with the axe swinging.

When her mother returned she dropped her basket of goods from their grandmother's kitchen. Kateri had her little brother up on the counter and was dabbing at the blood on his face, his clothes completely changed from when the mother had left. "Lee-Lee! What- Are you both-" Kateri's mother seemed breathless as she looked from one child to another. Kateri's hands never trembled, her eyes blinking calmly at her mother as she let her yank off her coat and check her over. "The wood... I finished." Was all Kateri could muster before she fell into her mother's chest. Never had she thought she would have had the strength, or maybe stupidity, to stand up to such a creature. Whether it was her nerves having been tested by her brothers or a mix of how her family raised her around the norther wilds. Either way that primal instinct never seemed to leave the forefront of Kateri's mind.

WORD COUNT:: 1,263 (Sorry it was so long!)

WANDLESS:
Reducio
Wands were not something readily used within the Native American community Kateri was raised in when it came to healing or anything involving magic. Perhaps in some form they found a use but were not a tool that was a necessity in order to conduct a magic user's power. Many of the adults in Kateri's tribe that were settled in the St.Regis/Akwesasne area were accustomed to wandless magic and in face rarely ever took out their wand. Her own parents and grandparents had wrapped their wands neatly away in furs and stored them for most of their lives. Like others in her tribe and those before her, Kateri's family had used simple movements like the snap of fingers or wave of the hand in order to cast. Body language being such a huge part of Native culture as well as any ceremonial practices.

When Kateri had been young she would imitate her family members gestures thinking she had made the wind blow a little harder or sun shine just a bit brighter. Through the years leading up to her admittance to Ilvermorny, Kateri had started to form her own little quirks that would lead later in life to her own wandless gestures when casting. Through school Kateri had complained to her family about being made to use a wand, her mother calming her and explaining it was still a good tool to understand and respect. In later years leading up to graduation she continued to have a growing respect for her wand but would still practice a simple flick of her wrist hoping eventually she could master the same casting power her wand held but without a reliance on it. Around her sixth and seventh year *I saw we need non-verbal for students which is 5th year so used that to base it off of* Kateri started to practice not using her wand daily whenever she was able with the help of any willing Professor as well as at home with her family. It would usually be strapped to her waist or in a holster of some kind, even in her non-dominant hand to try and keep it close by and concentrate on the flow of power within her rather than the tool in hand. Grasping at the familiar feeling her wand gave when used as an extension of her arm and powers, looking for the same tingle of electricity in her fingertips before giving a snap or hand movement to cast. It took some time to get on track and be able to fully cast any type of spell, mainly the ones she learned more on an introductory basis at school, but eventually the skill came to her.

After graduation and helping around the reservation, studying under her Grandmother as a healer and plant-magic, she apprenticed more in-depth without the distraction of school or classwork. This still involved the use of her hands and gestures some now more advanced, the closing of eyes or touch of her hands together while casting, when preforming any spell her Grandmother guided her. This went on for a year of training and honing her wandless ability before she left home. Though the practice never stopped and any chance Kateri had she would be sure to keep up with it even with small cleaning spells or simple daily tasks. From that point on it became second nature and even used during her lectures once hired at Hogwarts.

Wiki Link / Image just for reference with canon info.
Image

Stats to show already have 20 Wisdom in trunk:
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WORD COUNT:: 575

NON-VERBAL MAGIC:
Reducio
If Kateri had thought learning her people's tradition of wandless magic had been hard and a grueling process involving hours of practice each week, her father's constant corrections, and Professors at Ilvermorny giving her large research tomes to further her knowledge... Non-Verbal had been a whole other beast.

While practicing her wandless techniques at home and school, her sixth year at Ilvermorny she had been introduced to the idea that Non-Verbal casting would be a welcomed match to go hand in hand with this ability. At first she had been excited to learn but concerned hearing the countless times her Professors had repeated over and over about proper pronunciation and incantation use. She had seen others cast without words but they had all seemed like well experienced adults. Her parents had ensured her she would have no trouble learning the skill and one of her professors seemed thrilled, even offering help during office hours since she had already been excelling in other areas of her studies involving casting. Long sleepless nights and vacations from school were spent not only practicing her wandless techniques but now were evolving into giving attempts at non-verbal spell casting as well. She had started the first few weeks using her wand at school with instruction from her professor, a little rocky at first but by winter break Kateri had a handle on at least a handful of spells like that of Lumos, Wingardium Leviosa, and Incendio without having to mouth the incantation. The rest of her sixth year had been spent focusing on no lip movements at all, not even a twitch in the form of a vowel. Seventh year had produced more practice times and even more learning with an immense amount of appreciation for her Xylomancy Divination professor that had offered to help.

Graduation came and went, during breaks spending a little time with the professor to study under them when she wasn't busy helping her Grandmother at home. Often the professor visiting their tribe and in return for non-verbal lessons gaining more knowledge from the Mohawk Kateri lived among to help in their study of Xylomancy to bring back to Ilvermorny. At this point Kateri had a firm grasp on wandless and stable knowledge of non-verbal, often times preferring it to using verbal casting. Especially since she was often around other No-Majs, including her younger brothers, when helping her Grandmother during healing or medicine woman duties around town or ceremonies. Moving away from home Kateri continued to carry on with non-verbal casting even if she was alone in her own home or around other wizards. Finding it gave her a sense of home and link to her Grandmother.

WORD COUNT:: 447

STATUS: Approved

"Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented."-Elie Wiesel
7 Sep 2020, 03:02
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: here
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Parselmouth
Describe why this fits your character:

Reducio
"Hssosssgssswsssasssrssstsss ssswsssissslssslsss sssbsssessss sssasswssfsssussslsss" "Hogwarts will be awful." Lana whispered to her mothers snake, glancing across the room uncomfortably. "Isss sssbsssessst ssstssshsssesssy'sssrsssesss sssassslll sssassss sssbsssusssnssscssshsss sssosssfsss sssgsssissstssss." "I bet they're all a bunch of gits."
Being around snakes is nothing new for Lana, as being raised in a purely Slytherin home she was quite used to them at this point. Her mother and father both had one, her mother's named Amare and her father's Mors. Growing up Lana had always seen and respected the snakes like people, not just sophisticated house pets. In her house, parseltongue was normal, meaning having full conversations with the snakes was just a casual occurrence she would have if she were to encounter them.

In fact, it was so normal her mother and father had allowed Lana to adopt a snake for herself as a pet to keep at their home. She named them Amortentia, the name of the infamous love potion as sort of an innocent characteristic to the terrifying reptile.

Her conversations with the snakes were vague, practically inaudible whispers. They didn't talk about the most important of things, though why should they? She considered them to be friends of hers, despite their scaly and unethical appearance. As a young child, she was feared by the children her age, and rightfully so. One wrong word to Lana and she'd have the snakes sent after you in a heartbeat. Although she couldn't order them to physically harm her classmates, she did send them to taunt and terrify the children.

Despite Parseltongue being a trait passed down through Salazar Slytherin, Lana Monet possesses it as a Ravenclaw despite the unusual rarity of it. This leads Lana to even further believe that she was destined for Slytherin, and theorizes that someone in the school bribed the sorting hat to put her into Ravenclaw to mess up her family's pride; the reason for this being that someone doesn't agree with their views on blood purity and thinks it to be quite funny of them to put their only daughter into the wrong house.

Though as she arrived at Hogwarts, she hadn't even a clue this unusual gift was something almost no one else had. Her first year students had been afraid of her, though she blamed this on her malicious personality more than anything. Of course, she considered the fact that she had full on conversations with the snakes she found near the grounds to be somewhat of a contributing factor, though she didn't dwell too much on it. In fact, she probably wouldn't have even be aware it was peculiar if not for an older boy calling her a snake freak her first year.

She flaunts this trait proudly, though, as if it proves her worth or something to speak the same language perhaps even the Dark Lord could. She finds it endearing, to be able to do something that could perhaps help her become a dark wizard someday, although she'd never admit it of course. No, she'd keep that sinister part of her mind a secret in case anyone used it against her.
Character Stats
Stamina | 7
Evasion | 6
Strength | 4
Wisdom | 8
Arcane | 4
Accuracy | 6

Mod note: please owl Béatrice Lydursdattir once you have been approved by Index

STATUS: Denied
You have to register for a race/talent within 30 days after your validation (meaning being sorted into a house). Applications exceeding this limit won't be accepted.
Validation: 14th February 2020
Last edited by Lana Monet on 11 Sep 2020, 16:04, edited 4 times in total.

⋯ ୨ Terrible Presence, Fearless ୧ ⋯
#706c6c
7 Sep 2020, 19:09
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
[quote]Link to your encyclopedia thread: Click me
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Charmer
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it): [400 words for an ability, please include word count.]
Reducio
Catriona was raised on tales of magic. Not the regular type of magic, mind you, but fae magic. Her father was a muggle writer, and he'd often tell Catriona tales of daring adventurers who braved the fae realms as bedtime stories. These daring heroes would undertake all manners of quests, often having to face numerous obstacles in the form of verbal riddles and puzzles with the fae creatures that inhabited the fantastic stories. The heroes-- or at least, the successful ones--were always so witty and charming, overcoming every problem they faced with their cleverness. The little girl quickly grew to love these stories, and they became an important facet of her childhood. When her younger sister was born, Catriona shared those same stories with Davinia and even told a few of her own. The two began to see characters from said stories everywhere they turned, and the sisters soon made games out of it.

The old woman down the street became a crone, where the girls could win cookies if they were sweet enough. The man who ran the dock in town was the Keeper of the Lake, and he would recount his stories of the Loch Ness monster if they traded a tale of their own. The customers at her mother's shop were adventurers from far realms, with plenty of stories to share if the girls asked the right questions. The people they met when they traveled with her father were oftentimes fae themselves, and the girls had to say just the right thing to help their father win them over. Davinia was always so shy and hesitant to interact with new people, so Catriona often took the lead as the eldest. She learned very quickly how to suss out the right thing to say when talking to adults, whether that meant being clever and funny or polite and unassuming.

Although Catriona began to outgrow the games, the lessons they taught her stuck with the brunette. Catriona was a child that tended to win people over quickly. Her practice at winning over adults came in handy when the precocious girl talked to her teachers. Soon, the girl learned how to apply these same practices to her classmates. Cat became adept at reading others, learning to figure out what the best course of action was for any given interaction. When another girl started to cry, she was always there with a comforting word. If someone made a nasty comment, she could fire back just as quickly with a remark just as devastating. She was clever and funny, often surrounding herself with her classmates as she shared stories and told jokes. Catriona was no stranger to drawing a crowd with a perfectly placed and timed comment.

Word Count: 456


STATUS: Approved
8 Sep 2020, 14:33
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Here! (Have applied for the index)
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Werewolf
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Reducio
At the age of five, Scarlet’s father, Ethan Salvatore, moved the family to be closer to his brother, and her uncle, Alex, within New Forest in the south of England. On the night of a full moon, during which the two teenage brothers had taken a camping trip to Scotland, Alex’s keen interest in Astrology prompted him to leave the tent and find a better spot to study the sky. He soon reached the summit of one of the smaller mountains and began to sketch the star’s arrangement. The creature approached from behind, and even if Alex had noticed it earlier, his position at the cliff’s edge left him with nowhere to run. Before he had time to react, to raise his wand in defence, the werewolf made one sweeping attack, his claws digging deep into Alex’s back. In many ways, the resulting effect of Alex falling forward into the ravine at the base of the summit saved his life, but during every subsequent full moon Alex had wished the beast had followed him and finished the job.

Scarlet’s parents had always supported her uncle around the times of his transformations, and she became used to being alone during full moons whilst they would visit her uncle. With her mother being a Beast Investigator at the Ministry and having a deep love of magical creatures, Scarlet grew up on stories of Goblins, Trolls and Pixies, but as a probable result of her uncle, she hadn’t been told about werewolves.

It was on the night of one particular full moon, at the age of nine, when Scarlet’s curiosity would change her life forever. Bored of the same routine of playing with her cat Ashur, reading and then going to bed, that night Scarlet decided to follow her parents deeper into the woods. Her parents eventually reached a clearing occupied by a small log cabin and a couple of fallen trees, Scarlet lingered behind a large oak on the edge of the clearing as her parents entered the cabin. At first she didn’t pay much attention to the dark shape that darted across her peripheral vision, but on looking closer at the oak tree that she was slumped against she noticed a deep gash in the wood and began to feel great unease. On hearing a bush rustling somewhere behind her, Scarlet decided she didn’t care what trouble it would get her into, but she was going after her parents into the cabin; she didn’t want to be alone anymore. Just as she was entered the clearing, the door of the cabin burst open and her parents, panic stricken, rushed outside. The next second was a blur, Scarlet remembered her mother screaming at her to duck, but it wasn’t until she heard the crashing of the werewolf behind her, breaking branches in his stride, that she knew she had to drop. Her father’s wand erupted in a blinding red light and the werewolf slumped from mid-air into a pile of black fur in front of her. Her mother brought Scarlet to her feet to check her for injuries, only stopping to say, “everything is going to be okay”, and when she found the bite on Scarlet’s shoulder she hugged her and said again, “everything is going to be okay.”

Scarlet came to learn all about werewolves in the weeks that followed that night, and unlike her uncle, came to enjoy her transformations, hours spent with her uncle learning to track and hunt, to control and make the most of her abilities. When in human form, no one would believe that she was a werewolf, her tall, slender figure along with her quiet nature act as a perfect mask. Scarlet has truly embraced her Lycanthropy which she has come to see as a gift and is hoping to find students at Hogwarts that share this idea.

Word Count: 643

New Stats with Lycanthropy:
Reducio
Stamina | 4
Evasion | 4
Strength | 7
Wisdom | 6
Arcane Power | 5
Accuracy | 4
Mod note: please owl Béatrice Lydursdattir once you have been approved by Index

STATUS: Approved

Hex #B22222 | Owner of Scarlet's Custom Aesthetics Shop
Scaret Salvatore | Valentin Everbone
Terrible Presence - STA 4 | EVA 4 | STR 7 | WIS 9 | ARC 7 | ACC 4
10 Sep 2020, 01:39
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to Encyclopedia Thread: uwu
Name of Ability that you are applying for: Statistically Relevant and Prodigal DADA Learner
Describe why this fits your character:

First Year | Statistically Relevant (+2 to Stamina) | WC: 538
Reducio
As a child, one tends to imagine that a visit to the beach would be simply magical. Running along beige carpets, chased by frothing waves and building intricate sculptures. For Calanthe, who has spent her entire existence living near a beach, this vision was almost accurate. She could do everything other kids dreamed of. It’s just that things were… bloodier than expected.

Thanks to Brighton’s pebble beaches, there was no silk, sandy carpet to break her falls. Only harsh, painful stones. It did not take long for the girl to become accustomed to the feeling of shards sticking into her palms and jagged cuts along her knees. Brighton was home and the beaches were her sanctuary. She saw more of it that her own house, quite possibly. And by the gods, she was an active child. Mr. Choi and Mrs. Kim could never supress her energy. Running over the pebbly shores were like a rite of passage any time she and her parents made the short drive from Upper Hove. The beach was her home turf and there was no way the young Calanthe would ever return home without some kind of wound or scratch from her time on the coast.

Being a kid with boundless energy paired well with walking, hiking, and swimming. Strolling through the main attractions of Brighton always felt like discovering the city for the first time. New corner shops and different menus always popped up unannounced. While her mother tended to be away at work most of the time, Calanthe and her father made it their mission to explore every inch of Brighton. An evening was never complete in the Choi household without a trek down the South Lanes or the Sea Front.

A childhood of walking did much to build her stamina up, so much so that her father suggested hiking. Trails were aplenty in Brighton and the family loved using hiking as an excuse to get away from the city for a just a while. The South Downs felt like a completely different country from the always hustling and bustling tourist centre that Calanthe called home. It was an every-weekend event that the father and daughter pair would lace up their sneakers and head out for some good old-fashioned lung-capacity building treks up the cliffs. Swimming also assisted helped with strengthening Calanthe’s respiratory system and making her more durable all-round. The seawater at Brighton was always frigid, only warming up just a bit for summer. It would not be an exaggeration to say that the waters were Calanthe’s second home.

Brighton is an entrancing city, anyone can tell. It attracts people from all around the world who come to sample the lifestyle of coffee shops and quirky shacks. But for the locals like Calanthe, Brighton is like a challenge waiting to be conquered. Endless streets to wander, hills as far as the eye can see, pebble beaches that can steal a chunk of your skin, and biting waters that only the strongest can brave. All of these pastimes had sculpted Calanthe into a hardened threat. Her tiny legs hold power and her skin is more durable. It takes a lot to knock her down and even more to take her out.


Second Year | Prodigal Defence Against the Dark Arts Learner | WC: 680
Reducio
Dark magic.

An interesting topic to most. Even Calanthe, at her gloomiest, found her biological father, Amos’, job to be fascinating. She had spent her childhood buried under books about mythology and the supernatural. She could almost consider herself to be an expert in the area. Her father, Janus, encouraged her attachment to the mystical worlds she read about, his own Dungeons and Dragons hobby helping him to relate to his daughter. In every aspect of the matter, Calanthe should have been ecstatic to learn more about Amos’ lifestyle and all the bizarre dark wizards he spent his time apprehending.

Whatever.

Why should she show any interest in what that Amos guy does? It’s not like he’s a part of the physical manifestation of the world she’s been dreaming about since she was a kid. It’s not like she would have given up everything she had as a child to experience something like this. Right?

Stoic. Solemn. That is the only way to describe Calanthe’s face when interacting with her biological father. She was invested in giving off the image that she cared for nothing about him, her family, or this stupid wizarding school. Even if the classes were some of the most interesting things she had ever witnessed. Even if she was magic.

As hard as Calanthe tried, it was noticeably clear to her and anyone who paid attention to the quiet wallflower that Defence Against the Dark Arts piqued her interest. Learning about dark creatures, curses and jinxes sent the witch straight back to the basement of her house where she would observe her father and a rotating line-up of people have the nights of their lives playing tabletop fantasy games. The subject was just so enthralling.

Still, the girl had an image to keep up and there was no way she would allow her mother or either of her fathers to believe that she was having a good time at Hogwarts. She wanted them to believe that sending their daughter to this wizarding school was ruining her life. Maybe that was partially the truth, but by the time summer rolled around, Calanthe knew that if her life was really being ruined, it was being done by herself.

Tired of avoiding her fellow wizards and bundling away where no one would find her, Calanthe ended the school year with a resolve to at least try to enjoy the rest of her time at Hogwarts, starting with actually paying attention in classes. This goal was made easier by the fact that the young witch wanted nothing to do with her mother during her time at home. It was quite uncomplicated to stay in her room for the entire month of August. She had plenty of practice over the last year.

To bide the time, she picked up her Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook from first year. Calanthe’s grades were absolutely terrible. She did not touch the book during the school year and only ravaged it when she realised that failing her exams was not something she wanted to do. The textbook became her favourite thing. She started every morning and ended every night by practicing a new spell or reading about a new magical creature. By the time Amos arrived at her doorstep to take her to Diagon Alley, Calanthe was proficient in every spell on the first year syllabus of the class. Of course, more so in pronunciation and wand movement than in actual casting, but she would find that to be enough when arriving at school and practicing these spells in their full capacity.

As soon as the second year textbook found its way to her hands, she began reading up on the new spells, practicing those like she did the ones before. There was enough motivation – not only was it fun, but Calanthe felt that becoming more involved with this subject would help her go in the direction that she actually wanted to, whether that be to follow in the footsteps of Amos the Auror or simply to prevent another Blossom Ball fiasco from escalating.
STATUS: Approved

STA:10 | EVA:6 | STR:2 | WIS:7 | ARC:9 | ACC:9
12 Sep 2020, 16:38
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: It's over here.
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Charmer (WC: 410)
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):

Reducio
To give you a view of how Jean-Papi is like I could only say it’s like Barnum in the Greatest Showman. Here’s a link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kkjhqJ55I1I

Jean-Papi was the very definition of what one would call the perfect specimen. With a smile to die for, pepper and salt hair, a well-trimmed handlebar moustache. Most see him as a fashion icon and he has a certain way with words. Some would claim he would entrance his audience. Whether this was due to his accent or solely because he’s French is up for speculation. To spice things up he even has that bad boy look going on as his left eye has scars running over it and is blind in it. However, he has the voice of an angel and could win you over by serenading you. In fact when JP was on stage performing with his band the crowd didn’t buy tickets to see him solely perform or to hear him sing. Oh, heavens no! It was of his showmanship, the way he performed and took over the stage and even let the crowd participate was unmatched. JP’s personality makes up for more than that alone. He’s honest, well mannered, has a heart of gold and is a hopeless romantic on top of that. In short, he’s the guy you would take home to introduce to your parents. He has the, sometimes annoying, tendency to always just know what to do or say whether this be a joke at the right time or just a supportive message.

His charming personality began taking root back in Beauxbatons where his female students were very much attracted to his rebellious nature and his flirtatious, but mannered, tendencies. The male students were in awe of how he got away with most of his mischievous adventures. Where most would have gotten detention JP just simply got a slap on the wrist. He was witty, quirky and just knew how to overwhelm a person with just his sheer personality. A dangerous tool in the right person’s hands. Jean-Papi truly learned how to hone this skill when he was on tour with his band, the Banshee’s Wail, to get inside restricted clubs and parties where he wasn’t invited too. Later on, whilst he was working as an auror, he used it during interrogations to trick them into giving him information to capture criminal wizards and witches. Where he really started to see the value it had.

JP was often called a gentleman, but never a gentle man. So come on ladies! What are you waiting on? This man is single so take your shot!


Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Non-Verbal Casting (WC: 428)
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):

Reducio
This was a very different kind of task Jean-Papi had to tackle. One unlike any other he had gotten before. In Beauxbatons they were sticklers for the rules. They embraced their artistic side which was often seen in the way they moved their wands when casting spells, which caused JP to create a very graceful stance. Yet to the observer it would often feel and look like the French man was performing a dance with his opponent. Fluent, gracious even stylish were all words that came to mind when looking at him. It was quite distracting sometimes. Now, however, this did not seem to help him out with the task at hand. He had to learn how to cast without pronouncing the actual incantation for the spell. It would give them an edge if they were amongst muggles not to be recognised as a wizard, but also when facing an opponent as some spells would be rendered useless against them.

A skill like casting spells without pronouncing the incantation was an advantage and Jean was set on achieving this. Yet, after trying multiple times he was unable to do it. Frustration began to take control and he gave up. As he walked away from the class his umbrella was suddenly taken from him and as he turned to look who did he heard a click. The Professor laughed at him. “Come on, Jean! You aren’t going to surrender to a lockbox now will you? Try again. Concentrate, take your time and you’ll succeed.” Trying once again he concentrated. Yet nothing seemed to happen. Another attempt and now Jean had more than enough of it. He wouldn’t be able to learn it, but he didn’t need it that much after all. He only needed to use his wit to outfight his opponent. Before he could walk again once again, his friend noticed he would give up. “Expelliarmus!” No time to think, Jean worked on instinct alone and warded off the offensive spell without saying a word. Shocked, he looked at his wand and then his Professor. The Professor grinned and nodded towards the lockbox. So he was able to do it. Maybe he was just overthinking all of it. Now once again trying to open the lockbox. With a flick of his wand the lockbox clicked open and he was able to retrieve his family heirloom. At this day he knew that he would never again quit so easily not only had learned the skill of casting spells without saying a word, he also had learned to show determination.



Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Non-Human Enthusiast (WC: 2052)
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):

Reducio
Rain was pouring outside the window. The wind was howling and battering the window shutters. Thunder roared through the skies and lightning illuminated the heavy, pitch black darkness. Inside the windmill there was a battle going on. Claire de Bois was giving birth to her children and it was a hard battle. Luckily for her she wasn't alone. A doctor, a midwife and her husband were there. Her husband, Jean-Papi Dupont, trying to support her with soothing and encouraging words and the doctor and midwife trying to get her child through this difficult process. The interior of the windmill was cramped due to the amount of people that were all pressed together in such a small area.

Come on now! Don’t give up on me now. Give it one more push and your babies will be born. Give it all you got now!, the midwife said. She’s tired, Gretta!, the doctor countered.

If you haven’t noticed these babies aren’t waiting on their mother. With or without her help they will get out of there. I would suggest she chooses the first choice. She bit the last part of her sentence at the doctor, but then focussed her attention back on the mother. What do you say? Are you ready to get to the finish line? Claire being far too tired to use her words or to sneer something to the midwife that she wasn’t the one giving birth, so she merely nodded her head.

Alright then. Push! Claire pushed as hard as she could and when she could do no more she fell unconscious whilst hearing the cries of the children she birthed. The doctor immediately went over to her trying to get her back to consciousness, but he knew it would be far too late. Claire had always been a sickly woman. With the amount of blood alone that was laying here he knew she would not recover. She wouldn’t make it. All he could do was give her something against the pain in her final moments. He turned towards her husband, JP, and shook his head. JP cried out in anguish.

You can’t do this to her! You must save her. She’s all I have!

I-I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do anymore… All I can do is give her something for her pain. It won’t be long now. JP looked at him with a stoic face before he muttered: Leave.

E-Excuse me?

I said, leave me. LEAVE!!!, he yelled at both the midwife and doctor. The midwife still holding the babies gave them to their father before taking her leave. When they both had left the windmill he hastily went over to the sturdy oaken cupboard and pulled out an old, dusty, thick book that looked worn down through ages of use and a vial with a mysterious liquid inside.

What most people didn’t know about JP and his wife was that he had made a deal with a mysterious old crone. His wife had been a sickly woman all of her life which had rendered her unable to have children. They had visited the finest hospitals and searched for the most gifted of healers in all of France, no spell or tincture was left untouched in their quest to conceive a child. Yet it would seem that the pair would be left without an heir. Until on a particular day where JP had heard whispers of a mysterious old crone in the north of France. Heated arguments had followed between them as JP begged and pleaded with his wife to visit her. After all if they wouldn't try it, they most certainly wouldn't have a child. Claire wasn't to be persuaded and talked about faith as if she had made peace with the decision that the universe and forces outside of their reach and understanding had forced upon them. NO, if she wouldn't give her blessing he would venture to the old crone in secret. Making up a story about how he had to travel somewhere for work, he had contacted a broker. Someone who he had met in the line of his work, this broker sold cursed objects and rumor had it that he had once contacted the crone.

After days of travelling they had finally narrowed her location down to a cave deep inside a local swamp. A place no one would think to look for. Once arrived the old crone wasn’t inclined to help JP at all. Why would someone like me help someone like you, hmmm?

JP let the insult slide. He needed something from her after all. Because I will compensate you handsomely. Please, she means the world to me. I need an heir. I made a promise and I’m nothing else, but a man of his word. Help me not to break my word. I will do anything and pay any price you name.

You think I am so easily persuaded by the promise of gold? The old hag sneered. What do you take me for?! A goblin? She spit the word as if it had left a bad taste. No, foolish wizard… I want something else… For what you ask is not a simple thing. No what you ask of me is to meddle with the fabric of the world and magic itself. You would want me to pull at a single thread causing the balance to unravel like a tapestry. Something like this would require a spell that is as ancient as magic and so powerful that it would leave me drained for hours. So… Are you prepared to give me something of equal worth instead of something so childish as mere gold? The crone, an ugly and vile wench who’s face looked bloated and filled with warts, hunchbacked, looked longingly and revealed a crooked grin.

As JP pondered her words, a fire crackled that heated a giant cauldron, with the contents unknown. There was something unsettling about her. She made him feel on edge and alarmed. The hairs in his neck stood upright. A testament of this fact. Did he really want this that bad? There was only one thought crossing his mind. Yes. He was desperate and delivered at the crone’s mercy.

Something tells me you already know the answer, but oui. I shall pay your price, crone. What is that you require?

An unsettling, sinister and dark laughter escaped the old woman. I do not require anything oh mighty Auror. I just long for something. A tongue that was forked, quickly licked her upper lip and was gone before the Frenchman could blink. I ask of you a staring glass eye, three magical candles, a vial of Acromantula venom and the dung of an abraxon horse. I’m sure a skilled wizard like yourself could easily retrieve these items.

The Frenchman made a mental note to immediately start scavenging these items when he got home. Consider it done. What do you want me to do after I’ve collected all of these items?

Crooked fingers snapped and with it a creature with long ears and a large, sharp nose emerged from the shadowy corners of the cave. “You called, Mistress?” A raspy voice said. My House Elf, Norry, shall retrieve the aforementioned items for me. You have until the second moon. You shall venture to your closest graveyard and lie these items at the tomb of Celeste Moreau. If you are late, you shall feel my ire, Wizard. Now leave! You got work to do.

With that JP couldn’t utter another word before he got teleported out of the cave and found himself no less than 10 meters away from his front door. In the coming days the Frenchman desperately searched and collected all of these, rather peculiar, items and dropped them off on the second moon at the tomb of Celeste Moreau. There he waited for hours until finally a small creature appeared out of thin air.

With the snap of his fingers the items disappeared, to the old crone’s location, which one could guess. “With that out of the way, here is something for you.” The House Elf’s long fingers reached inside a pocket and withdrew an old, dusty, thick book that looked worn down through ages of use. The parchment of the book contained staines and had a yellowy look that reminded JP of the crone’s teeth. The pages were as fragile that the faintest touch might let it evaporate. The second gift JP received was a vial, which contained a thick, black liquid. “The Mistress told me to hand this to you. She will now cast a spell where your wife’s barren waste of a womb, shall be as luscious and conceivable as that of a young maiden.”

The insult set off JP before he could think he pulled out his wand and casted Bombarda at where the House Elf stood. As soon as the smoke and dust cleared the House Elf reappeared, unharmed and a wicked smile adorned its greyish-black face as he patted the dust of his clothing. “The items the Mistress so graciously gave you are to be used once the children are born. Consider it a… Favor for services rendered.” With that another snap was heard and JP found himself alone in the dark and gloomy graveyard.

He remembered the meeting as clear as day as he put down the book on the table next to his wife whilst flicking franctically through its pages until he had found what he was looking for. JP tilted Claire’s head and poured the mysterious liquid down her throat. After that he made a peculiar wand movement and muttered the incantation under his breath that had been written in some long dead and forgotten language. Jean-Papi heard in his mind the old crone’s voice saying the exact same incantation as he was in that moment. Immediately he knew something bad was going to happen. Suddenly the door blew open causing the window shuts to clatter and the windows themselves broke. A shriek emanated from where Claire was lying and suddenly a figure erupted from her chest. A zombie like creature with a green tinged skin color and pitch black hair dropping to the floor.

This was not what JP had expected. He had wanted his wife to rise from the dead, not become this monstrosity! What have I done?! As he spoke the Banshee locked eyes with him and screamed so loudly JP almost fell unconscious. He pointed his wand at the Banshee and spoke: Lumos! Hoping to blind his target whilst running towards the crib and taking his son and daughter in his arms. When he got his son he ran out of the door with the sound of screams running through his head.

A few days later

Nothing had been the same after that night. Nothing felt right since she had changed. Jean-Papi hadn’t merely lost the love of his life that day. No, far worse. Claire had been twisted and turned into an atrocity. Something he couldn’t completely fathom and most certainly did not recognise. That day she had been turned into a Banshee. After he had barely escaped with his children clutched in his arms he had dropped them off at Château Dupont. Everything after that felt like a hase. He didn’t realise where he was until someone called him by his name. It was Baptiste, a colleague of his. It seemed he had stumbled in the Ministry of Magic. Jean-Papi realised what his unconscious mind was trying to do and so he had a mission. Quickly blazing past Baptiste, he followed the way towards his office. Once there his path took him towards his bookcase, long fingers searched and an aha escaped him as he found what he was searching for. Plopping down in his chair he skimmed through the book until he had reached the chapter he sought. “Spirits and the likes, everything you need to know about them”. It was his fault that Claire now was this ‘thing’. He couldn’t bear to revisit the place. But that wouldn’t stop him from learning and reading on how to vanquish, defeat or best any other kind of races. The Frenchman would make it his life goal to protect innocent bystanders from any threatening creatures. Especially… Hags…



Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Fearless (WC: 1372)
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):

Reducio
Jean-Papi was a man who didn't fear much. Because of his years working as an auror he had seen a lot. Things that were worrying and truly horrifying, but he had become numb to most of it. He wasn’t as appalled as he had been the first time. He has seen men, even some great men, succumb to power and hold on to some twisted sense of morals in an effort to make up for their grave transgressions. JP had seen some of the worst humankind could do to one another. These experiences had shaken him to his core the first couple of times, but now? Now, it was just something he grew accustomed to. The French man had gone through sleepless nights trying to find an explanation for any of it. To make some sense of the senselessness, but alas. In the end he had learned life didn’t hold all the answers and there were only two ways on how to deal with it. Either you try to find the answers and get mad in the process or you simply accept there are things you couldn’t possibly comprehend no matter how hard you tried. JP chose the latter.

There was, however, one thing he feared the most. His wife, Claire de Bois. There are more husbands out there that feared the wrath of their spouse, but Claire wasn’t like others. What made her such an unique case was the fact that she had been deceased and had come back as a Banshee of all things. Since that day he had never returned to where she lingered. The thought alone was already too much to bear as it was him who was to blame for her death. The choice wasn’t his, however. Tried as he might to bury his head in the sand of what had happened that day he couldn’t ignore it any longer. Jean-Papi had started to get dreams about his wife calling to him saying she needs him, reaching out her hand as in a faint hope of pulling him inside the windmill she had died. Each time he tried to grasp her hand, her face would twist and turn in that of a heinous monstrosity and she would lunge to attack him. At that moment he always woke up bathing in sweat. Only yesterday his children had woken up from him screaming her name. That was the moment he had decided this vicious cycle couldn’t be ignored any longer. He had to face his fears and it had to be now.

Two days after the dream he had arrived back in France. As he neared the windmill mixed feelings stirred within the gentleman’s gut. Memories of happiness, joy and love assailed him but soon those were washed away with the memory of that dreadful night and most definitely… That vicious hag… Lost in thought it had seemed he hadn’t moved an inch closer to the door. The man stood there maybe three paces from the front door. It's an easy action to undertake, you just move your feet three more times, yet at that moment in time nothing in the world could convince him to take a step any closer. To make a step closer to his greatest failure, to his love, to his… Everything. His throat clenched, mouth dried, sweat started to form on the man’s brow. Fear had him pinned to the ground. Oh what he wouldn’t give at this moment in time to face a troll, dementor, dark wizard, literally anything, but… What? What should he call the woman he had adored, loved, worshiped the ground she had walked on yet had become something that wasn’t any of those things any longer? Instead she had turned into something twisted and foul. Him and him alone was to blame. Yes, the Hag had been the one to instigate all of it and without her it might not have happened, but that didn’t take away the fact that he and he alone had sought her out in the first place. JP, could have been happy. Just them, just the two of them being who and what they were… Yet it hadn’t been enough for him then. His kids were growing older. It wouldn’t be long before they’d start asking more questions about the void their mother had left. And Merlin’s beard forbid the day that they would decide to seek her out. So, he had to do this. He balled his hands into fists to strengthen himself. As he took the three steps towards the door and pushed the handle down the door slowly swung open and made a creaking sound as it made his arch.

Years had passed since he had last stepped foot in this place. In a single glance he had noticed everything was still the same since the night he had fled with his children in his arms. Fled from the mother of his children. He shook his head as he tried to talk some courage to himself.

“You can do it, Dupont. Chin up and face your fears. You’ve faced far worse in your years!”

Did he? Had he really faced worse than his deceased wife? Time would tell. Suddenly he noticed Claire’s favorite chair moving. As he took out his wand from the wand holder inside his jacket he made his way inside. “Lumos.” The tip of the wand lit a light and slowly the rays filled the room. A chair that was turned over in the left corner of the room, a sturdy, oaken armoire stood against the wall. Rummaging came from inside, as he neared it he took a deep breath. Left hand disappeared in his jacket pocket and fingertips touched glass. Gripping it tightly, yet carefully enough he wouldn’t shatter it he procured the item. His right, who held his wand, gripped the handle and swung it open. Prepared to face the worst he stood eye in eye with a group of rats. They peeped as they ran out of the armoire and disappeared in the nearest creak in the floorboards. “Merde!” The Frenchman muttered under his breath, the wand illuminating the rest of the room as he aimed it somewhere else. As he got in the living room he noticed a chair. To most it wouldn’t have been anything out of the ordinary, yet to him it was. Claire’s favourite chair where she had sat down many times to relax after a long day, enjoying the warmth of the fire.

Suddenly a sound came from behind him. “Claire, ma cherie, I’m home…” His breath stocked as suddenly a figure stood right before him. Long black hair that shielded parts of her face, a green-tinged skin, but the thing that he recognised immediately were those grey eyes he had fallen in love with and then… Jean-Papi woke up. Eyes opened slowly and it felt like he was hit with a bombarda. Suddenly realising where he was he immediately jumped up with his wand in his hand. Feeling once again in his jacket pocket to find the glass phial he had carried with him. It wasn’t there. As he scanned the room he suddenly noticed that next to Claire’s chair the phial lied there. Shattered pieces littered it. “I-I did it.” Relief surged over him and he let out a sigh, yet a single tear seemed to make its way down his cheek. Most people only had to experience losing the woman they love once, although Claire wasn’t exactly herself, he had lost her all over again. The wound that was slowly healing over time ripped right open again. Walking out he slowly closed the door behind him and threw one last look before closing the door forever. A chapter was closed as he closed the door of the windmill. Returning to Switzerland to study in the abbey, the Healing Arts. Jean wanted to learn how to heal and fix things as he felt this was his way to make up for the pain and suffering he had not only caused himself, but also his kids and father in law. Yet one month after the encounter he screamed. Eyes wide with fear, bathing in cold sweat. “Claire…” He whispered.


Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Healing Sage (WC: 417)
Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):

Reducio
As Jean-Papi woke up bathing in his own sweat from another sleepless night of dreaming about his deceased wife he noticed the time. 10:47 am. “Merde!”, he proclaimed. “I overslept again. Hopefully the abbot will be more forgiven this time.” He knew it was a faint hope. The abbot was a strict man. He hated people who overslept. Why? If JP recalled correctly it was something about God and that he hadn’t created day and night to just let it go to waste by laying in bed. No matter what excuses you could conjure up. So, the French man quickly jumped out of bed, put on some clothes and left his chambers to find the abbot in the medical wing of the abbey where he was tending to some of the other monks and travelers who required his aid muggles, wizards and witches alike and JP had the honor of helping him heal the wounded first hand. It was quite the learning curve. As he had never bothered to look into it more in depth and back in Beauxbatons he hadn’t paid attention to what the professor had said. The abbott eagerly took him under his wing and had decided to teach him as much about muggle remedies as magical ones.

“Ah, Jean-Papi, overslept… Again?”, the sturdy bald man spoke to the French man without turning around to look at him. “And don’t you dare sigh at me young man.”

It was quite odd to hear himself getting addressed as a young man, but seeing as the abbot was in fact more than twice his age it was only fitting. “Yes, abbott.”

“The Sleeping Draught I concocted for you doesn’t work?”

“It would seem not, abbott.”

The abbott merely shook his head. “Then make yourself useful and bring me some of those bandages that are near you and start preparing some burn-healing paste seeing as we’re low on that.”

Jean immediately went to collect some of the ingredients needed to prepare for the paste. After he had prepared said paste he needed to help with the abbott on his rounds as he saw some of his daily patients. Some required only an ointment or potion, but others required more attention to see what potion or spell could help them out.

Once the rounds were finished JP would have to go to the abbey’s vast and extensive library to study the more theoretical part of healing which the abbott quizzed him about during their rounds the next day.


Stats:
Stamina: 13
Evasion: 12
Strength: 2
Wisdom: 16
ArcPower: 15
Accuracy: 12


STATUS: Approved

“Some people thrive under pressure and others crack. Et moi? Oh, I definitely cracked under that weight.”
15 Sep 2020, 14:30
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to my encyclopedia thread: It's here.
Name of the Talent that I'm applying for: Parselmouth
Description about why it fits my character:

Natasha is the descendant of a long line of Magizoologists from the paternal side of her family. Starting from the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1897), the Choi clan was renowned for their expertise in the study of different types of serpents; they were interested mainly in Basilisks, but unfortunately breeding such creatures was banned in the Medieval times. That didn’t stop their fascination, however. They moved onto different species, and their studies proved to be fruitful; in a short amount of time they were able to comprehend their nature and breed them without the fear of being attacked by the creatures. They sold their fangs, eggs, etc. to potion masters around the continent, thus making a living and gaining popularity. The Choi clan has become widely known for not only for their competence as Magizoologists, but also for their close ties with the cold blooded creatures.

At a certain point in the clan’s history, the first member to speak Parseltongue was born; an incidence which gave the family a great advantage. They progressed from being simple snake breeding experts, to actual allies of the serpents. Now that they could communicate, they could strike a deal which would be beneficial for both parties and not only for the wizard family. They came to a mutual agreement that if the clan protected their kind from the poachers, the serpents would provide more items they could sell. After several months of debates, the Choi agreed. The wizard family’s business prospered for centuries to come.

Although the clan was widely known for their alliance with snakes, the clan was never feared per se because of their gentle and tacit nature; they reassured everyone that, when dealing with dangerous species, the clan members were exceptionally cautious. Even so, there were a few instances throughout history when muggles fell victim to the serpents the clan bred, the main reason being the absence of a Parselmouth who could convey messages from both parties. This led to misunderstanding and the revolt of the serpents. After this incident, the Choi made sure that there was always someone who could take on the role of an interpreter; if there were no Parselmouths in the respective generation (which was a high possibility, since very few possessed this talent throughout history), they would nominate a member who would then study rigorously to acquire a minimal knowledge of the language.

As a descendant of the Choi clan, Natasha was raised with serpents by her side, just like many others before her. From an early age, it became clear that she had a special connection with the creatures, as she spent most of her free time with them and her mannerism was greatly affected by them. Even though she is still young, she tends to use metaphors in her daily conversations which more often than not have an allusion to snakes. Her personality is also similar to certain types of serpents; she is content being left alone, but once someone disturbs/attacks her she won’t hesitate to use any means to get back at them.

Natasha’s grandfather, Chulwoo Choi has great hopes for the young girl; there hasn’t been a Parselmouth in the family for a few decades now, and he is convinced that the next one to possess this talent is going to be Natasha. This would be to her advantage, since she can’t seem to learn every species’ attributes; if she were to speak their language, she would have a much easier time understanding their needs and complaints.
Word count: 583
Stats:
Stamina: 5
Evasion: 5
Strength: 4
Wisdom: 6
Arcane Power: 5
Accuracy: 5
Mod note: please owl Béatrice Lydursdattir once you have been accepted by Index
STATUS: Approved

"It's better to walk alone, than with a crowd going in the wrong direction." - Herman Siu
15 Sep 2020, 23:36
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to your encyclopedia thread: here
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for: Perfectionist
Reducio
When you cast a spell, you take your time doing so. You enunciate your words with care and you do not recklessly swish your wand about. Your spells don't backfire, they don't fail. You're too much of a Perfectionist to let that happen.

Prerequisites: None

Effect: You have a reduced critical failure chance range by 1. In addition, you can counter up to 1 point of additional critical failure chances caused by abilities or spells (not potions). In other words, if you have an extended critical failure chance range (as is the case with certain races, the effect of certain spells or potions), this reduces that range by 1. So if you have a +2 critical failure chance range (meaning if you roll a 1,2, or a 3 you critically fail), this ability makes it a +1 critical range instead (meaning if you roll a 1 or a 2 you critically fail).
In Dueling:
• The chance to critically fail a Wisdom Check when casting a spell will be decreased. This can decrease the default range to 0 (making it impossible to critically fail a spell).
• This ability can be taken twice, which makes the player immune to Critical Failure, even if the Critical Failure range is increased by other means (the spell will simply fail, not won't backfire).
Note: This can be obtained more than once. If this ability is acquired more than once, your character becomes immune to critical failure chances (so even if you have a +5 critical failure chance that would not matter). The attack can still naturally miss or not take effect, but there is no critical failure effect. This includes potions that might increase the critical range chance.

What is a Critical Failure? A critical failure is where you roll a 1 (or within the extended range if applicable) and the spell ends up backfiring or an unexpected effect happens which is often disastrous to the caster.

Describe why this fits your character (not why you the player want it):
Reducio
Again.

Robert sighed and picked up his clarinet. Raising it to his mouth, he looked at the sheet music and began to play. Three notes in, his father stopped him. “What was I just telling you? Faster air flow. Again.” This time, Robert got six notes in before being stopped. “Alright, better air flow. But, remember to crescendo those long notes. Make it feel like they're going somewhere. Again.” Two notes in, Robert hit the wrong note. “Stop. Again.

Finally, the nine-year old spoke up. “Dad, you realize that all I’m trying to play is ‘Hot Cross Buns,’ right?” It was one of the easiest songs of all time to play, especially on a clarinet. In fact, it was the first song that Robert was attempting to learn. Had the young boy had anyone else as a tutor, he would have been finished practicing a couple of hours ago.

Of course I know what song you’re playing. But if you can’t play this correctly, how are you going to play anything else?” Thomas Toukmond sighed, and motioned for his son to put down the instrument. Grateful, the boy complied. “Look, if you’re going to do something, you might as well take the time to do it right. I know this is an easy song. However, even the most simple of tunes can sound like a masterpiece in the hands of an expert. The key to getting there is practice.” Thomas waved his hands about, as if trying to pick the right analogy out of the air. “It-it’s like cooking. As you become better at the clarinet, you’ll learn more note values, scales, all the ingredients to music. However, those ingredients are useless on their own. What I’m trying to teach you is how to cook those ingredients and make a meal out of them. Air flow, crescendos, accents, these are the proverbial kitchen appliances used to make your meal. Right now, you’re just throwing notes out there. I need you to slow down, listen to the sounds coming out of your instrument. Don’t focus so much on the notes, just try to feel what will make it sound better. Use those kitchen appliances to make a masterpiece.” The father stopped talking and looking at his son. “Do you get it?

Surprisingly enough, Robert actually did get it. He picked up his discarded instrument and took a deep breath. This time before blowing air through his instrument, he stopped and thought for a second about what he wanted it to sound like. Then, he began to play. Shockingly enough, he actually got through half of the song without being stopped. In fact, Robert actually stopped all by himself and looked at his father, as if to check and make sure he was still there. Thomas nodded encouragingly at his son, so the young musician kept on going. He made it through the entire song without stopping again.

Robert quickly rose through the ranks of his school’s band until he was first-chair clarinet, his conductor saying he was “a natural.” The young boy knew the truth though. He wasn’t actually a natural born musician, he just had that rare, and yet key, ability to practice and become perfect. Robert took the lesson he learned and applied it to everything else in his life. The words his father had uttered stuck around with him forever. “If you’re going to do something, you might as well take the time to do it right.” Slowing down can save you a lot of time if it means you only have to do something once, instead of multiple times. After being admitted into Hogwarts, he continued to keep this attitude when it came to spell-casting. It was a rare sight to see Robert fail to cast a spell, especially after his initial casting of it. Not because he was naturally good at spell-casting, but because he did the work and had the patience to do it right.

WC: 660
STATUS: Approved

"Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving." - Albert Einstein

STA: 4 | EVA: 4 | STR: 3 | WIS: 9 | ARC: 8 | ACC: 7
16 Sep 2020, 00:18
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
first year ability: healing sage
Reducio
Growing up, Frost often watched her mother as she patched up and cared for her sister, her younger brother, or even herself. Amelie Cira (Frost's mother) being a healer and muggle nurse was beneficial, especially being a parent of young children. The girl often found herself watching her mother with a careful focus as she worked. Her mother had steady hands and a wide range of knowledge on many things medical. Frost would study her mother's work as she fixed up various scrapes, cuts, and the like, as she told her random little tidbits of information. From all of the bits of information, the young Frost would learn many first aid tips. Such as the correct way to wrap bandages and even what the functions of certain medicines were.

After a few years of observing, Frost would inevitably pick up a few things about healing. Even reading some of her mother's books on the topic of healing, magically and non-magically. As she got older, Frost was often her mother's 'assistant' in caring for others. Fetching bandages and various medicines for her mother became a normal thing for her to do. Eventually, Amelie allowed the young girl to assist her when people came to her for healing. It hurt Frost's heart oddly whenever she saw anyone in pain. Even if they were a total stranger, Frost wished that nobody ever had to be in pain, not when she could help, even a little bit.

Besides this, Frost had been the main caretaker of the Cira's garden. The garden in the backyard of their home was filled with various plants meant for healing pastes and potions. Forever curious, young Frost studied what they would do and started a small journal of plants. With her mother's help, her journal grew to be more full, and useful facts lined every page. Instincts to nurture and take care of things along with her knowledge of magical and non-magical healing certainly made Frost into quite a good mini-healer.

Along with herbology, Frost spent copious amounts of time in her first year studying potions. Potions with healing properties, in particular. If she could be helpful in at least one way, then she would diligently work toward being exceptionally good at it. The rush of warm happiness that helping others heal or feel better was enough for Frost to keep at it. Even if all she could do to help was comfort them or give them a bandaid with a cute little design on it. Though the impact she would make would be small compared to what some people are able to do, Frost would still be content knowing she made someone feel better. At least a little bit.
word count: 452
second year ability: calming presence
Reducio
Though the duration of her first year and earlier years before Hogwarts Frost could be considered somewhat hyper, there has always been something about her that was soothing. Perhaps it was the optimism and positive energy that she seemed to give off. Or her gentle and humane nature. Maybe her tendency to care for everyone, almost in a motherly manner. Frost had grown up in a home where she was greatly sheltered from everything that could harm her. She had never known anything other than kindness and caring.

Even before Hogwarts, Frost would be the one her younger brother would come to and she would be the one to soothe him. Acting not as a motherly figure like the eldest Cira sister had, but more an older sister. Though Frost had enough big sister action at home, it seemed to bleed into everything else she did.

She had taken on the role of big sister or "mom-friend" in almost every friendship. Finding it easy to "look after" for her friends, as it was in her caring nature. Many school days Frost would hang around her friends, reminding them to drink water or telling them to finish their homework. Some days felt as though she was supposed to be responsible enough for herself and her friends.

During her first year at Hogwarts, Frost had learned that there were things about the world that scared her. Things that her parents had safeguarded her from and some they couldn't have known about (like all of the Huffle burning and masked man). If there were things that frightened her, a girl who usually kept a tranquil composure, there were most definitely things that frighted her friends.

Since the end of first year, she started making a conscious effort to become a sort of haven for any of her friends that needed it. It was always important to her that her friends felt comfortable with her. This came particularly easy, especially for a girl who was just so good at subduing worries with gentle touches and soothing words. A sense of warmth seemed to emanate from her.

It had been Frost who hushed the younger years when they swore they saw something move in the shadows. She had been the one to hug her friends when they were anything but happy. She was the smile or shoulder to cry on to anyone who asked.

Frost enjoyed how it felt to help others and hoped to be a rock to her friends when everything else felt like it was crumbling. If the girl could help in any way, even a small one, and if she wasn't good at anything else but being someone's support system, she would. Whatever it was, Frost would always be there for her friends, for anybody, whenever they needed her.
word count: 470
third year ability: none for now, still making up my mind
fourth year ability: none for now, still making up my mind
character stats:
• stamina: 10
• wisdom: 8
• strength: 1
• arcpower: 10
• accuracy: 10
• evasive: 11
STATUS: Approved

✿ frosty cira ❀
❝ when you can't see on the bright side, i will be there to sit with you through the dark ❞
16 Sep 2020, 03:23
DO NOT POST HERE: Application for Magical Races/Talents and Special Abilities
Link to Encyclopedia: Le Ethen
Name of Ability or Race/Talent that you Are Applying for:

First Year Ability | Calming Presence
Reducio
Whether on purpose or truly due to his youthful bliss, Ethen is exceptionally clueless of nearly everything transpiring around him in a given situation. While at first, such an attitude might seem a detriment, it has actually become one of his strengths. Not truly understanding if a situation is serious or extremely dangerous, Ethen remains positive and ready to tackle anything with those around him. Such naive foolishness grants the boy a level of bravery that might come across as confidence to those around him as he strides forth into any situation with little regard to the potential consequences.

That endearing ‘can do’ attitude inevitably rubs off on those around him who may feel comforted by the foolish boy’s confidence. Not choosing to acknowledge or examine the consequences for his every step, Ethen runs forward with a chaotic smile excited to pour praise on others or stands ready to cast aside others’ worries. His nature intelligence allows him to be persuasive enough to ensure others that they are on the verge of success or free from any real danger despite the gravity of the situation.

Even as a small child, changing Ethen’s mood from a gleeful and clueless excitement was nearly impossible, and even when in peril he has found ways to make light of a situation. His clumsiness and cluelessness can also keep smiles on the faces of those around him. Ethen lives to make others feel comfortable and does what he can to keep them smiling even at the expense of his own shame or well-being. The carefree temperament allows him to laugh and smile his way through any situation.

His first year at Hogwarts was seemingly filled with endless examples of peril but despite the danger...and detentions… Ethen remained confident enough to keep charging forward for his friends. His ability to give those around him a similar temperament might lead them down the path of chaotic pranks around the school as notions of actually getting in trouble are disregarded.

As a child, Ethen learned from his father that he should never let fear govern his life and choices. Taking that to the extreme, the boy no longer regards such things and allows himself to simply enjoy life to the fullest. It is nearly impossible to make the boy angry and he is always ready and willing to push others to pursue or chase anything that they may be nervous about. The blind confidence is enough to chip away at the nerves and fears his friends may be having. Ethen’s even temperament and clueless happiness remains infectious, if not somewhat endangering, aspect of his personality.
WC: 438

Second Year Ability | Keen Eye
Reducio
Living much of his early life in Africa due to both of his parents working with magical or non-magical creatures. Ethen grew up in the bush helping to track and find little trails as his parents went about their research. Finding even little droppings or burrows of mice and other small animals became a passion of the young boy wanting to emulate the expeditions of his parents. Tracking down reptiles to play with snakes and the many lizards of the rainforests required his eyes to become used to focusing on even the slightest movement in the dense foliage. Perched on the branch of a tree, Ethen might spend several hours just watching the forest floor for any hint of movement with the hopes of finding a new small animal he hadn’t seen before.

Despite his parents scolding him for endlessly bringing animals home that were not meant to be pets, Ethen continued to build his visual prowess. Looking for any sign of animal tracks, from broken twigs, scat, or even rustled leaves became a daily adventure for the young boy as he remained fixated on the thrill of discovery. While there was significantly less diversity in the animals Ethen could chase around once he moved back to Ireland, he continued his endeavors to find potential pets or four-legged friends. From little shrew burrows to the tracks of a curious local hedgehog, Ethen was able to fill his young days sneaking his away around nature to find all sorts of creatures.

The skills he picked up learning to track from his father had also become invaluable in his ability to locate missing or misplaced treats in the chaos of his room. Similar to a squirrel preparing for winter, Ethen has a habit of hiding a wide variety of emergency snacks wherever he may be living but his memory is next to useless when it comes to finding things, and the mess that was his room only made it more impossible. But his ability to sit calmly and allow his eyes to pick apart the chaos to locate his snacks. His best friend Atlas loses things with a concerning frequency but she knows that the detective skills of Ethen can invariably track down the hidden item with ease as his eyes allow him to quickly scan the scene of the missing bobby pin.

Over the summer, his family returned to Africa for his mother’s research and Ethen was happy to return to the lively forests of central Africa. With each passing month, he was taught and learned how to recognize new signs of life from other humans in the area to the small birds who scattered seeds around the dense forest floor. Very little gets past the boy’s patient and curious eyes as they pick apart each area his head swivels towards.
WC: 470
STATUS: Approved

Stamina: 7/ Evasion: 7 / Strength: 5/ Wisdom: 13 / ArcPower: 6 / Accuracy: 8
Broom: Silver Arrow