|  Author | Topic: Steph Solstice (Read 243 times) |
Steph Solstice
Muggle
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Joined: Jan 2008
Gender: Male 
Posts: 1
Location: .Between Scylla and Charybdis.
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« Thread Started on Jan 27, 2008, 1:49am » | |
The Basics
Name: Steph Solstice
Nicknames: Just...Steph
Age: 15
Year: Fifth
Date Of Birth [[no year needed]]: October 31
Nationality: English
Dark Or Light: Neutral
School: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Wand: 13 1/2" Elm, with Unicorn hair in the core
More Detailed
Personality [[two paragraphs at least]]
He's the kind of guy who you wouldn't exactly want to invite to a party, unless you actually want it to end with someone's face in the punchbowl, salami slices stuck to the ceiling with cream cheese, and the whole d**n house toilet papered, well then go ahead. Steph has a really mischievious streak, which can kinda get carried away, to the point where people call him an evil git. He's been in detention a lot of times, usually for "disorderly conduct", but it's never phased him yet. If anything, it's just made him even more determined not to be caught the next time he feels like dropping slime-filled water balloons during the next major school dance.
Not much of a conversation starter, he prefers to stay in the background. He's stated it more often than once; he's the "guy behind the guy behind the scenes" and would rather just make a quick entrance and exit, as opposed to entering and staying the whole night. Steph has made a few accquaintances over the years, but nothing stable enough to be called 'friendship'. He's not a recluse, exactly. He just hates attachments and would rather stay silent. Of course, that doesn't stop him from cracking a good sarcastic comment the next time a professor makes a grammatical error in his speech, but -- the way he sees it -- no harm done.
He's not studious nor dilligent, but his apparent 'inherint' skills are enough to get him by, with the usual E's or O's average, with the occasional A. He's never once gotten a failing mark, but he figures it's only a matter of time until the school administration is so fed up with him, they'll bring his grades down to a plain, ugly T. But, as usual, it doesn't phase him much. Calm and collected, he's the type of guy to think well even under pressure. And he never backs down in the face of fire. You could shove him in front of a sleeping dragon and he'd poke a sword right up the dragon's left nostril. You get the picture.
Weaknesses
Aside from the Muggle food known as the chili dog (which, by the way, he'll do everything in his power to get), his one true weakness lies with his parents. They're...not exactly the most supportive people alive, and they constantly set sky-high expectations for him, expecting him to do better. He's constantly torn between telling his parent's to shut the hell up and just get a life or buckling in and meeting their expectations. All he really wants is for his parent's to be proud of him, but he figures it's never going to happen in his lifetime. Or theirs.
Academically speaking, the one subject he can never seem to get the hang of is Transfiguration. Admittedly, he finds it impossible to turn a table into a pig and a chair into a cute little poodle or something. He's mastered the basics, yeah, but when it comes right down to it, he usually messes up in practical tests. His grades here have all been steady A's, but as Transfiguration gets harder each year, he's sure he's gonna flop sooner or later.
Socially speaking, his weakness is -- don't laugh -- girls. Let's just say he's like a completely alien when it comes to specimens of the opposite sex. It's not that he finds them so attractive that he can't even speak. It's more of the fact that he has absolutely no idea on how to act or talk around them. Some girls have tried to talk to him, and they usually just walk away in tears or staring at him like he's the wierdest thing this world has ever belched up. Steph get's along with guys okay, but that's plainly because he knows what they're like, how they'll take what he has to dish up...that sort of thing. With girls, he calls them unpredictable.
Strengths
Well...basically, his strength is with himself. Yeah, barf, but it's true. It's like he's only as strong or as good or as smart as he believes himself to be. He's never actually had any friends he could draw strength from, and -- as stated -- his parent's never really got around to supporting him, so he figured, if no one else, he'd lean on himself. And it's been good enough for him for five years in Hogwarts. In his first two years, he had his grandfather as his 'source of strength', so to speak; Cole Solstice. He was the only one who encouraged Steph even if his grades weren't 'acceptable' enough to please his parents. Unfortunately, Cole passed away in his sleep, and Steph hasn't exactly been the same since then.
Also, he finds a certain sense of strength when he's pulling pranks on other people. Something about their faces when he's done and the pure laughter he gets when he sees their faces. Okay, come on. People look extremely hillarious with live lemurs picking the bugs out of their hair. Seriously.
In terms of his subjects, his strong point would have to be Charms, and a bit of Potions. These are the two subjects which he doesn't mind exerting just a little more effort, especially since the results are most definitely worth it. There's actually another reason why he loves those subjects so much, even though he won't accept it; it's because his parent's excelled in those subjects when they were in Hogwarts. His mum was well versed in Charms, and his dad could whip up any potion imaginable.
History
Childhood History
Coincidentally, Steph was born on October 31, the same date his parents got married. Belonging to a proud family of purebloods, he was constantly given these near-impossible expectations and was expected to meet them head on. Wanting very much for their child to carry on the proud race of the purebloods, Steph was never allowed to make friends with anyone else other than purebloods. Unfortunately, as everyone knows, the purebloods are a dying race, closely related, so there weren't many options. Although his parent's were never Death Eaters, they hated muggles with every fiber of their being and supported Voldemort's vision of a world without half-bloods, mudbloods, nor muggles alike.
Before he went to Hogwarts, they had Steph home-schooled with a Wizard tutor, meaning that he had a slight advantage over the other first years. Unfortunately, his being home schooled was the topic of whispered rumours in their neighborhood. Moreso when Steph made the accident of informing some neighborhood kids that he didn't learn "stupid things" like Math or Science, but "cooler stuff" than that. The kids pressed him for more information, but he refused to spill. Soon, word spread that he wasn't being taught normal lessons like a normal kid. Parent's no longer allowed their children to spend time with him. Most weren't even allowed to look at him.
It was just as well, anyway. If they came too close to his house, his parents would have fried them.
One day, curious at why he was the topic of such nasty rumours and why he wasn't learning the things other kids did, Steph snuck out his house and stole into the nearby school, just to see what normal children went through every day. Needless to say, he was shocked at how boring and monotonous their day was, and he felt pity for them, since they didn't know there was another side of the world, one that was much more enjoyable. Unfortunately, his parent's caught him. To say they were "not pleased" with what he did would be like saying Napoleon was "not pleased" with the final score at Waterloo. As punishment, he was given even less amount of freedom, if that was possible. He wasn't allowed to leave the house unless his parents were there with him, and he was only allowed to play in the backyard if a house elf was with him. Said house elf was given strict orders to work their magic on him if he even thought about sneaking out.
Instead of retreating into himself and going full 'recluse-mode', his childhood just drove him to grow a mischievious streak. Going to Hogwarts meant a newfound freedom, something he had never been able to experience.
School History
At eleven years of age, Steph finally got into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As stated, he found himself with a sudden overwhelming freedom of experience. He was free to mingle and talk with whomever he pleased, he was free to go wherever he wanted to go (okay, so the Forbidden Forest was technically a restriction. Still didn't stop him from going in), and -- even better -- there was no house elf to zap him every time he tried putting a toe out of line. Needless to say, he quickly gained a reputation as the 'wild child'. The guy who dropped minced meat pies from the great hall ceiling.
In his second year, he found out that he actually had a cousin who was in the same house as he. Consequently, this cousin of his was...more or less...more skilled with the wand. More gifted. His grades spoke clearly of how good he was, and he was studious to boot. Needless to say, his parents compared Steph to his cousin. A lot. Ever since then, Stepth tried to put a little more effort into his studies. Unfortunately, no matter how hard he tries, his cousin still manages to outperform him, thus gaining his and Steph's parent's constant admiration.
Appearences
Hair: Blond
Eyes: Periwinkle Blue
Complexion: Fair
Build: Tall and stocky
Other: well...he's asthmatic, so he's got his inhaler perpetually burning a hole in his pocket. Steph's attacks are brought on by extreme emotions (e.g; if he's so angry it almost looks like he can't breathe...yeah. He most probably can't breathe) so he can pretty much do strenuous activities without worrying so much.
Celebrity Look-A-Like: Bob Bryar (drums for My Chemical Romance)
Other
OOC Name: Rei
Question Answer: I'd have to say it was when Harry found out about Snape's childhood and the real deal behind it. After all, it's like the same question that's been bothering me ever since book one; is Snape really good or is he just plain badass? Also, that part in book seven showed us that Snape wasn't only not evil, but he was a true hero as well.
Yeah, okay, I find Snape really cool. Don't ask.
Sample Role Play: [this is from another site I'm on. is that okay?]
What had he been thinking?
It was the oldest thing in the book. The number one rule of surviving in this dog-eat-cat-cat-eat-dog world. All good things come to an end. And usually, in Haestus' case, good things came to an end almost abruptly. Such was the case with his parents, with Emily... oh, Lord, he knew he wasn't supposed to be thinking about them again, but it just wouldn't stop. And, in all honesty, it was kind of annoying, though there wasn't much he could do about it.
Haestus had felt something in this place, that much was certain. Be it a sense of belonging, or acceptance, or comfort. Either way, it was something he wanted to keep on feeling. It was the kind of emotion that was so pure, so true, that you wanted it to stay with you forever. It wasn't anything physical in this room. It wasn't the glass windows that still shone rather beautifully despite the lack of light in this room. The feeling had nothing to do with the cherubims and angels and other entities' carvings that littered the room, gracing solemn corners with their mere presence. It had nothing to do with the mingled look of comfort and pain that lay on the statue's face. It was nothing like that.
It was like the feeling lay entirely in the place itself. In this hallowed place that was flooded with people during special days, acceptance was the only feeling that they felt, and it was so strong it grew to be imprinted on the walls, in the statues, within the very structure of the chapel. It was so strong, there was no longer any place for hate. For uncertainty.
It was the closest thing he felt to feeling at home.
However, all it took was a small, insignificant sound, and everything broke apart, shattering the world he had wrapped himself in. In the sanctuary he had taken refuge. So there he was, sitting upright, tense and straining to see or hear whatever was coming next. His cerulean eyes were trained on the space between the center wall and the pillars. Now that he was concentrating on it, he realized only too late that there was a medium-sized oaken door there, its highly polished, dark brown color blending into the shadows.
And it was only now that he remembered where that door led to. When they nuns had brought them here, that door was where the priest had come out of, dressed in full garb. Later on, the nuns explained that the room that lay behind that door was some sort of priest quarters. It was a place where the priests prepared themselves for the daily mass. Their robes and spare changes of clothes hung in there, along with other assorted oddments and accessories that they needed, either for the mass or for their utmost comfort.
With that memory swimming in the deepened muddle of his mind, a part of him knew - rather, assumed to know - all too well who was coming out of that oaken door. Fear and panic gripped at his heart. The priest would find out that he, of all people, had broken into this sacred, sanctified place. Unable to think logically, he knew he had to leave, and soon, lest he be found out. After all, what privilege did someone with 'hell's heart' have to enter this place? He had no right. He had no privilege. A sinner, a liar, blasphemer, hypocrite, pretender...
He wasn't supposed to be here at all.
The moment the silhouette of a man appeared, Haestus stood bolt upright and turned around. His eyes rested briefly on Verzani's face, impassive and near-emotionless as always. His was a different case. Illogical and irrational panic spreading across his face, he bounded down the aisle, footsteps emitting muffled echoes as he raced across the dust-carpeted floor. He ran as he had never run before, aching to get to the large, magnificently carved doors, longing to cross the threshold.
He made it. Panting, he pushed the doors open, only to have a bitter, unrelenting wind greet him, stinging his face like many hands slapping him. Staggering like a blind man, he ran down the steps, wanting to put as much distance between himself and the chapel as possible. It was only when his foot sank deeply within the softened snow did he realize that running would be no easy task. Panic-ridden and completely driven, he plowed through the snow, half-running, refusing to slow down due to the heavy build-up of crystals between his feet. Still staggering, he ran through the courtyard, making his way past Emily's tombstone, past the deadened tree, past the numerous tombstones that lined the way, til he could run no more. Tripping, he stumbled forward, expecting to end up face first in the snow.
Another hand, icy and stone-cold, caught his outstretched hand, keeping him from going all the way. No longer caring who it was, he clung to the arm for dear life, trying to get his bearings and attempting to calm down.
How Did You Find Us?: I have this habit where I click random affiliate icons until I find a site I think is interesting. So...yeah.
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wowposter
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Joined: Sept 2008
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