Post by Callum Sint on Mar 16, 2013 12:18:54 GMT -7
SINT, CALLUM SALISBURY
“DEATH IS NOTHING TO US, SINCE WHEN WE ARE, DEATH HAS NOT COME, AND WHEN DEATH HAS COME, WE ARE NOT”[/font][/center]
[/size]
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The truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with caution.
- Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone[/color][/size]
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[/center]FULL NAME. Callum Salisbury Sint.
NICKNAMES. Cal, Sint, Oi.
BIRTHDATE. April 18th
AGE Twenty-One.
BLOOD Pure.
POSITION DESIRED Auror and Order Member.
CANON OR ORIGINAL? Original.
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It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.
- Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets[/color][/size]
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[/center]HAIR&EYES Hair a fairly dark shade of brown, verging upon the border of blackness - and looking like such in the correct shading of light. The iris' of his eyes also being a similar dark brown colour, as is most common in those with the type of hair.
HEIGHT&WEIGHT 6'2" - 160lbs.
FACE CLAIM Shia LaBeouf.
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I don’t go looking for trouble. Trouble usually finds me.
- Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban [/color][/size]
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[/center]WAND Hazel, Dragon Heartstring, 11", Unyielding.
LIKES
- Outgoing people.
- Music.
- Whiskey.
- The feeding of his ego.
- Quidditch.
- Being in a position of power, without being the power.
- Subtlety.
DISLIKES
- The overly-chaste.
- Boredom.
- Tomatoes.
- Embarassment (especially publicly).
- Answering questions verbally.
- The narrow-minded.
- Those that can't 'take a joke'.
BOGGART Loneliness. Both for the fact there'll be no one to take the piss out of, and that he greatly values company.
MIRROR OF ERISED Recognition for his actions, whether it be parades a mere pat on the back.
PATRONUS King Cobra. Snakes are his favourite type of animal, being able to sneak about their prey and silently inject them; and the King Cobra is the type of serpent he thinks looks the nicest.
PERSONALITY Callum was once a lot more rowdier than he is now, and during his school years he caused immense amounts of mayhem, rarely being caught, or if he was, somehow managing to worm his way out of any severe punishment. He would arrange - and attend - a vast majority of parties, and sleep around a fair bit. He was - and still is to some extent - a trouble maker, comedian and a 'popular guy'.
Although he may have settled down since his Seventh Year, when he realised he needed this to become an Auror and take after his Father - it's only a slight settling down. This has caused him to become more of a caring person, and ruthless in some cases. Allowing him to step back from his own little world of fun and observe the world for what it is, giving him sympathy and a ruthless approach on what is right and wrong - although he never really was one for second chances (or thoughts).
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Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right, and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort.
- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire[/color][/size]
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[/center]BIRTHPLACE Wolverhampton, West Midlands, England.
CHILDREN None.
PARENTS
- Luke Sint, Father, Deceased, Ex-Auror and Order Member.
- Chloe Sint, Mother, 39, Witch and Order Member.
SIBLINGS None.
OTHER
- Maximilien Porell, God-Father, 31, Auror and Order Member.
HISTORY Callum was born and raised on the outskirts of a small city just outside of Birmingham by his two loving, and abnormal, parents - Luke and Chloe. Both of whom were pure-blooded, a witch, and a wizard - I know right, freaks. Which also meant that Callum himself was a young wizard from birth, and was brought up in a very-much magical world.
And, as usual, at the age of eleven he received his letter from Hogwarts. Eager and ready, he was packed off down to London, into King's Cross, through the barrier, onto the Hogwarts Express - with two suitcases and a grey owl -, into the School's Great Hall and swiftly sorted into Hufflepuff. From this moment on, this would be a common occurrence for the next few years.
Nothing particularly significant happened during his time at Hogwarts - well, nothing that directly affected him. The only real main thing - and that wasn't even inside Hogwarts - was the death of his Father on a Ministry job, neither he or his Mother knew what said job was, but Luke never returned.
It was from then on - in his fourth year - that he realized his aspiration in life was to follow after his dad and become an Auror. He scored all Exceeds Expectations and Outstandings in his O.W.L.'s, following on to do Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms and Herbology at N.E.W.T. level - passing with Outstanding in everything aside from an Exceeds Expectations on Herbology.
After School, he immediately decided that he was to move to London and begin Auror training at once. And with the Muggle money he had saved over his years of living in their world as well, he brought a nice house in London not far from the Ministry itself. A few applications, a God-Father working in the Office and a well-known deceased Father easily put him into training, under the wing of non-other than Max, his God-Father.
And here we are...
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Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.
- Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban[/color][/size]
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[/center]NAME/ALIAS Kyle.
OTHER CHARACTERS None.
RP EXPERIENCE? ... Lots. About eight - give or take one - years experience. Started off on chatrooms, then forums, then MMO's. Trying on-and-off for about three years to get back in forums, hopefully I can actually do it this time.
RP SAMPLE.
He span, ramming the blade of his saber straight though a Jedi's throat. It went in, the light dimmed before the tip popped out of the top of the Jedi's head, the purple light shining bright in the crowd that surrounded him, blocking out all light he had access too. As the blade went through up until the hilt, his hand loosened slightly, claws digging into this man's shoulder blades and slicing up, ripping his throat open as he took ahold of the saber again, pulling it clean back, through the Jedi's face and kicking him softly, the limp, dead, mutilated body falling to the ground and shaking slowly as the oxygen blew out of him.
Smirking, his head turned to look straight at the figure that stood before him, the mechanical voice machine in his helmet - so his voice could not be recognized by the Jedi - booming loudly, "You. Turn. Tell me how many people are behind you. Or around about." he chuckled softly, his hand balling up tightly around the handle as he held them in a 'x' behind him, ready to strike and crouching down, looking up at the man.
The Jedi grinned, shaking his head, "Not likely, scum." as the man ran forward, Rainak pulled his hands around, cutting his hands clean off with one saber, the other his feet.
The male dropped to the floor, wincing and crying out in pain. He looked the Jedi in the eyes - making the Jedi stare back into his... solid black nothingness - tilting his head, saber's crossed at his neck, "Come on, be a sport. How much?" smirking, through the pain the Jedi shook his head once more.
"I will die before I betray my commr-..." Rainak nodded, bringing the swords toward eachother slowly, cutting the man's head head string by string.
"Yep, of course you will." he then looked up, throwing the head behind him, tilting his own to the other side. "That... add... yeah, about right." he muttered to himself.
He raised his saber's into the air, fist's clenched tight and looked up everyone infront of him, "Hey guys!" he began to cackle, head faced down. "Zap..." he said softly as he rammed his saber's into the ground with built up rage. As the blade's connected to the floor, cutting in two holes, a large tidal wave of force electricity zapped outward from him, blowing all around him back and and shocking them, their skeleton's visible through the voltage of the shock, blasting back items and containers also.
Rainak stood up, twisting his saber's and withdrawing the blades, sliding them into his belt before walking out casually, giving a slightly lean onto one leg and whistling a soft, joyful tune to himself.
Smirking, his head turned to look straight at the figure that stood before him, the mechanical voice machine in his helmet - so his voice could not be recognized by the Jedi - booming loudly, "You. Turn. Tell me how many people are behind you. Or around about." he chuckled softly, his hand balling up tightly around the handle as he held them in a 'x' behind him, ready to strike and crouching down, looking up at the man.
The Jedi grinned, shaking his head, "Not likely, scum." as the man ran forward, Rainak pulled his hands around, cutting his hands clean off with one saber, the other his feet.
The male dropped to the floor, wincing and crying out in pain. He looked the Jedi in the eyes - making the Jedi stare back into his... solid black nothingness - tilting his head, saber's crossed at his neck, "Come on, be a sport. How much?" smirking, through the pain the Jedi shook his head once more.
"I will die before I betray my commr-..." Rainak nodded, bringing the swords toward eachother slowly, cutting the man's head head string by string.
"Yep, of course you will." he then looked up, throwing the head behind him, tilting his own to the other side. "That... add... yeah, about right." he muttered to himself.
He raised his saber's into the air, fist's clenched tight and looked up everyone infront of him, "Hey guys!" he began to cackle, head faced down. "Zap..." he said softly as he rammed his saber's into the ground with built up rage. As the blade's connected to the floor, cutting in two holes, a large tidal wave of force electricity zapped outward from him, blowing all around him back and and shocking them, their skeleton's visible through the voltage of the shock, blasting back items and containers also.
Rainak stood up, twisting his saber's and withdrawing the blades, sliding them into his belt before walking out casually, giving a slightly lean onto one leg and whistling a soft, joyful tune to himself.
Fairly old.
HOW DID YOU FIND OUR SITE? Originally Google.
CODE WORD? Can I Slytherin?
RIP