Eminor Macula Moderators (eminor_mods) wrote in eminor_info, @ 2008-03-04 11:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | sample application |
Sample Application
Sample Application
Player
Name: Sarah
Age: 24
E-mail: sampleaddress@email.com
Timezone: Central
AIM Screen name: woodatdawn
Previous RPG Experience: In the Afterglow as Oliver Wood & George Weasley, Beyond the Hallows as Oliver Wood
Character
Name: Oliver Thomas Wood
Age & Date of Birth: 23, August 1, 1976
Schooling & Years Attended: Hogwarts, 1987-1994
PB: James McAvoy
Known Affiliations: Gryffindor Quidditch Team 1989-1994, Captain 1991-1994, Puddlemere United 1994-Present
Bloodline & Heritage: Half-Blood, through his Muggleborn grandfather. Scottish.
Physical Description: He speaks with a light, but defined Scottish brogue on most occasions, though it comes and goes with his moods and his blood alcohol level. He has a tinge of red in his beard when he doesn't shave. He has wide set shoulders and stands over two meters, causing his burly appearance.
Distinguishing marks: tiny cleft in his chin, though he rarely shaves enough for it to be seen. Scars from flogging on his back. An oblong, oval scar on his left thigh, where he cut the mark of Eminor Macula off with a knife.
Parents & Siblings: Mary Frances MacLeod Wood (mother, deceased); James Collum Wood (father, deceased); Babette Pierrot Wood (step-mother); Emilie Michelle Wood (sister)
Brief Family Background: Oliver Thomas Wood was born to James and Mary Wood in Glasgow, Scotland, on August 1, 1976. He was raised by his parents in a flat in a magical section of Glasgow until his mother died the summer before Oliver's fourth birthday. Mary, an auror, was killed during Ministry response to reported Death Eater activity. His father remarried in late 1986 to a french witch, Babette Pierrot, and they had a daughter, Emilie Wood, in May 1990. He was very close to his paternal grandfather, Thomas Wood, a Muggleborn wizard who served in the British Navy during WWI. Grumps, as Oliver called him, passed away in 1992.
Personality: He's a diligent person, timely and efficient. He never breaks his word. Though he has a tendency to be rather quiet at times, he can be just as loud and brawling as any man the next. He prides himself on his etiquette and appearing smartly dressed, all while maintaining his ability to drink another man under the table. He is humble when his own upbringing is the topic of discussion, though he can be quite snarky where anyone else is concerned. He is deeply private. He is well-educated and was privately tutored at home before attending Hogwarts at eleven. Sometimes, he's just a plain bastard and a bit of an arse.
Strengths: intelligent, dedicated to friends and his team, loyal to a fault, better about not being as obsessive about Quidditch as he was in school, good listener, a bit of a perfectionist
Weaknesses: stubborn, smokes too often, snarky, can be quite acerbic when angry, dislikes criticism and let's it eat at him, keeps his problems to himself too often, has begun to drink more alone
Occupation: Traitor & Seller; former Captain & Keeper, Puddlemere United, 94-99
Financial Status: Oliver has no means of legal or steady income.
Residence: Oliver lets a nightly room at a dingy inn on the far end of Knockturn Alley.
History:
At Hogwarts, Oliver's closest friends were his fellow teammates and all his time, to his teachers' chagrin, was spent focusing on winning the Quidditch Cup before he left Hogwarts. Not only did Gryffindor win the Quidditch Cup in his 7th year, but Oliver even managed to pass his NEWTs in June with fairly decent marks. Oliver was signed to Puddlemere United's reserve team the summer after he graduated. He did well and made full team before the season was out that year. Unfortunately, Oliver's father passed away 1995, which prompted his step-mother to return to France to be near her parents, taking Emilie with her. Oliver still wrote his sister birthday and Christmas cards, visiting when he could, and she sent him letters once she was old enough to write, but even these began to dwindle as the years passed.
At the end of the 96-97 season, Oliver was made Captain of Puddlemere. They did very well under his leadership and had it not been for the break out of war that year, they were likely to have taken the British League. Under Oliver's encouragement, the owner of Puddlemere United disbanded the team so that they could return to their families. Oliver fought in the final battle at Hogwarts. Oliver continued to lead Puddlemere as Captain the following year until December 5, 1999, when he was arrested for refusal to register his blood status with the Ministry.
Involvement in the war: As Captain of Puddlemere United, I encouraged the team to disband during the war. I returned home to my family for the spring of 1998 and fought in the final battle at Hogwarts.
Whereabouts since end of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows?: I continued to play for Puddlemere United until December of 1999, when I was arrested by the Ministry of Magic after refusing to comply with the registration mandate.
Reaction to initial hold on Muggle/Wizarding relations?: Like many of my fellow wizards, I voted for the Minister. He was charismatic, passionate and he spoke to the common wizard and aristocrat alike. I believed his speeches about rebuilding our war torn community before worrying about conversion rates. I supported the initial hold wholeheartedly.
Reaction to the Law for the Protection of Magical Blood and Honor?: Bollocks.
Have you registered in compliance with the Non-Magic Registration Act? If not, where are you now?: No. I refused to register and was arrested December 5, 1999 for non-compliance with the LPMBH. I was branded a traitor by the Ministry, stripped of my title as Captain of Puddlemere United and banned from play. My flat was confiscated by the Ministry, as were all of my assests. I served ten days in Azkaban prison after being tortured and marked by the Ministry. I avoided returning to my Gram's home in Glasgow for fear of bringing any Aurors round. The Ministry is watching all my magic, so I take a broom most places and just try to keep quiet. I've been helping a Seller on Knockturn Alley move Muggle imports. I let a nightly room in a dingy little place at the far end of Knockturn Alley.
Writing
Journal Entry: It's been about three months since I was arrested. That doesn't seem like long at all, but Merlin's balls, I'd give anything for a pint and a some kidney pie right now. I haven't had a decent meal in weeks. I flew to Gram and spent a night there, and while she fed me, I know she would have gone out of her way to make something better if she'd known I hadn't been eating.
She stopped asking me where the money for her taxes came from. She and I both know I've had to do things I don't like in order to get us through and I know she feels bad, but I think if she knew she'd feel worse - so I don't tell and she stopped asking. She owled Babette while I was there, though she hadn't gotten a reply yet. Hopefully Emilie will get accepted to the boarding school in the States and she'll be far away and safe from all this. It'd give me one less thing to worry about.
There was a time when I could have blindly imagined myself playing Quidditch for decades, retiring at a decent age and then maybe becoming a coach. I could have supported Gram and she wouldn't have to be working at 109 years old. I'd get married to that cute blond chaser for the Harpies and I'd be happy.
I wish I'd paid better attention in school.
My life until now has been a joke.
Thread Post: It was nearly seven. There was a time when all the money in the world couldn't have put him in Knockturn Alley after dark - but, that was before the war. As it stood now, the best business came at night and as a government labeled threat, you took business when you saw it and didn't ask questions. Oliver couldn't really describe what it was he did. He got paid to do just about anything anyone asked him to do - deliver a few packages the client couldn't be seen with, the odd job around a manor handling dangerous materials.
He'd been paid for sex twice. The first time was some pureblood bitch who'd been rather attractive and Oliver had been considerably drunk. He hadn't thought it had been that bad for the most part, but when he went to leave, she handed him forty galleons and couldn't stop gushing about how it had always been her fantasy to sleep with a Quidditch player. She was a Puddlemere fan. He'd started using a better glamour after that, making sure to change the shape of his nose and jaw as well as the colour of his eyes and hair. He'd stopped shaving as well. It hadn't stopped the second offer or Oliver's gut reaction.
"Fuck off, mannie. I'm no intae buggery."
"That's acceptable. A thousand galleons and I'll swear on Oath not to attempt fornication with you. Just for the pleasure of your company, I assure you."
A thousand galleons changes one's opinion on most things. There had been a time when Oliver had wanted desperately to rid himself of the scars. He was too proud to go to St. Mungo's after or accept the man's offer of the use of his private healer. He'd had a hard time cleaning the scars on his backside. He couldn't quite reach them and they had gotten infected, forcing him to seek medical treatment. Even then, he'd gone to a Seller who's wife was a healer. He'd not have his face in the Prophet for flogging himself. The man had certainly been true to his word, but while he had not used Oliver for sex, Oliver thought there was certainly something sexual about flogging oneself at the command of a man pleasuring himself a few meters away. Oliver's hand moved instinctively to the scar on his thigh. He'd never let that happen to Emilie. He glanced down the street, looking for anyone who might be in need of a Seller tonight.