Nib Member
- Last Seen: 2 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: sartorous
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 1022 (0.23 / day)
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Username history
- Nib 8 yrs ago
- █████████ 12 yrs ago
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Most Recent Posts
Not to be nitpicky, but King, in your first post you said Kyle had a pump-action shotgun. In your second post, you said he had a hunting rifle.
Still around. Hope he makes a speedy recovery and we can get this ball rolling again.
Interesting turn of events, Lo.
Full Name: Draven Eldridge
Age: 37
Blood: Half-Blood
Alignment: Neutral
House: Ravenclaw Alumni
Personality: Draven is, above all else, a quiet and secluded man. He has the ability to talk to others, but he chooses not to a lot of the time, as he prefers to be alone and left to his own devices when he’s not teaching. When he is teaching, it’s hard to believe he is as quiet of a man as he is, because he is confident and outspoken. He has also been described as a strict teacher, but there haven’t been very many bad reviews on his teaching methods. Draven has always been interested in learning and passing on his knowledge, which is what drew him to teaching at Hogwarts in his favorite subject. Of course, Draven is not without flaws; his quietness gives people the wrong impression and can cause others to avoid him and think he is a rude individual. He has dedicated so much time to study and strengthening his brain that he has neglected his social life and physical exercise, making him physically weak.
Bio\History: Draven was born to a Muggle mother and Wizard father. His mother worked as nurse, and his father worked for the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Mysteries. Draven was raised knowing both worlds. He would take trips to Diagon Alley and Quidditch games with his father and attended Muggle schools until the age of eleven when he got his Hogwarts letter. After that, his parents made arrangements to make it look as though he were going off to some sort of Boarding school and he was off to Hogwarts after getting his school things in Diagon Alley. After that, Draven attended Hogwarts, was sorted into Ravenclaw (his father was in Slytheirn), and devoted most of his time to this studies. When the Battle of Hogwarts took place, Draven was only thirteen and was therefore escorted from the school for his own protection.
When the war was over, Draven continued his studies at school. When his Fifth Year came around, he decided to pursue a career in wandmaking and so when he graduated went to work at Ollivander’s, collecting cores for wands and making some under the careful eye of the elderly wand master. He worked there for four years before he grew tired of the work; it wasn’t that he disliked it, he just needed a change of environment. For a change, Draven decided to apply for the job of Defense Against The Dark Arts Professor. The Headmaster was satisfied with his previous school work and decided to hire him. Draven has now been teaching at Hogwarts for sixteen years and has been made the Head of Ravenclaw House.
Appearance:
Wand Type: Ten and a half inches, Willow wood, Thestral Tail Hair Core
Notable skills: Defense Against The Dark Arts (Teaching and Practicality), Wandlore, and Dueling
Patronus Charm: Horned Owl
Pet:
Age: 37
Blood: Half-Blood
Alignment: Neutral
House: Ravenclaw Alumni
Personality: Draven is, above all else, a quiet and secluded man. He has the ability to talk to others, but he chooses not to a lot of the time, as he prefers to be alone and left to his own devices when he’s not teaching. When he is teaching, it’s hard to believe he is as quiet of a man as he is, because he is confident and outspoken. He has also been described as a strict teacher, but there haven’t been very many bad reviews on his teaching methods. Draven has always been interested in learning and passing on his knowledge, which is what drew him to teaching at Hogwarts in his favorite subject. Of course, Draven is not without flaws; his quietness gives people the wrong impression and can cause others to avoid him and think he is a rude individual. He has dedicated so much time to study and strengthening his brain that he has neglected his social life and physical exercise, making him physically weak.
Bio\History: Draven was born to a Muggle mother and Wizard father. His mother worked as nurse, and his father worked for the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Mysteries. Draven was raised knowing both worlds. He would take trips to Diagon Alley and Quidditch games with his father and attended Muggle schools until the age of eleven when he got his Hogwarts letter. After that, his parents made arrangements to make it look as though he were going off to some sort of Boarding school and he was off to Hogwarts after getting his school things in Diagon Alley. After that, Draven attended Hogwarts, was sorted into Ravenclaw (his father was in Slytheirn), and devoted most of his time to this studies. When the Battle of Hogwarts took place, Draven was only thirteen and was therefore escorted from the school for his own protection.
When the war was over, Draven continued his studies at school. When his Fifth Year came around, he decided to pursue a career in wandmaking and so when he graduated went to work at Ollivander’s, collecting cores for wands and making some under the careful eye of the elderly wand master. He worked there for four years before he grew tired of the work; it wasn’t that he disliked it, he just needed a change of environment. For a change, Draven decided to apply for the job of Defense Against The Dark Arts Professor. The Headmaster was satisfied with his previous school work and decided to hire him. Draven has now been teaching at Hogwarts for sixteen years and has been made the Head of Ravenclaw House.
Appearance:
Wand Type: Ten and a half inches, Willow wood, Thestral Tail Hair Core
Notable skills: Defense Against The Dark Arts (Teaching and Practicality), Wandlore, and Dueling
Patronus Charm: Horned Owl
Pet:
“Alright, everyone. Essays are due next week. Double spaced, Times New Roman. You know the routine. Have a nice weekend, everyone,” Arthur Collins made the announcement to his Literature class as he shut the Power Point down and gathered his things into his leather briefcase.
The students wished him a good weekend as they left. Arthur smiled and thanked his students as they passed him on their way out of his class and back into the hall beyond to go about their lives. With his briefcase in hand, the middle-aged professor made his way out of the classroom and to his car. Arthur tossed the briefcase onto the passenger seat and sat down with a sigh; it had been a long day so far. He had already been to the museum to examine the new books they had gotten in for an exhibit and then left there and made his way to the university to teach the two Literature classes he was the professor of, and now he was heading back to the museum to continue examining the books.
As he pulled out onto the main road, his stomach grumbled at him. To stop his stomach’s angry outbursts, Arthur steered his car down a one way street and through the drive thru of one of many fast food establishments across the city and ordered himself lunch to quiet his angry stomach. Arthur hastily ate his food on the drive to the museum as there was no way he could eat while examining the text; the museum took the preservation of such artifacts very seriously, to the point of making the examiners wear white gloves while working. The book collector pulled into his designated parking place and turned the car off, rubbing his eyes and leaning back in the driver’s seat before he got out.
He was exhausted already and would rather take the book home with him to examine through the night after he took a lengthy nap, but he would have to get authorized to do so first, so when he entered the museum he veered left instead of right and made his way to his boss’s office on the first floor. When Arthur finally reached his boss’s office, he tapped gently on the partially opened door before entering a second later. The auburn-haired woman sat at her desk, looking over what appeared to be forms for incoming exhibits and looked up when the dark-haired man in a suit walked in.
“Hey, Arthur. How are you?”
“It’s been a long day. Thanks for asking, Linda. How about you?”
“Not too bad, long as well. Been sorting through these new exhibits coming in. How are the new books coming along?”
“Great. I’ve only got one more left to look over, which brings me to why I’m here. I was wondering if I could leave early and take it home with me and work through the night at my place?”
Linda looked at him for a moment, clearly debating whether or not to allow him to take the book home. On one hand it was an extremely rare book, but on the other hand Arthur was such a stickler about the books he worked with that he barely let anyone look at them let alone touch them or come anywhere near damaging them. After staying silent for a few minutes, Linda finally made a decision and approved Arthur to take the book home. With many thanks and a smile, Arthur made his way to his own office, where he swiped his ID card from the museum to get into the room where the books were held. After slipping on the white cotton gloves, Arthur grabbed the book and slipped it down into his briefcase and left, slipping the gloves down alongside it.
After he managed to fight his way through the afternoon traffic and get back to his flat. Arthur entered his empty flat and threw his keys down on his coffee table and gently set his briefcase down on his couch. With a lengthy yawn, Arthur made his way to his bedroom and collapsed on his bed after tossing his phone down on the nightstand. In a matter of minutes, his eyes shut and he drifted off to the land of sleep.
Vvvvvvvvv… vvvvvvvv… vvvvvvvvv
Arthur woke up to the vibrations of his cellphone on his nightstand; he groped around in the dark room for a moment before his hand closed around the shaking phone. He inhaled deeply and rubbed at his eyes with his free hand before looking at the phone through his slightly blurred vision. He had just missed the call, and it changed the number of missed calls to six, and as he examined his phone screen closer he saw that he also had six unheard voicemails and six… the phone screen went black. In frustration, Arthur hit the lock button the turn the screen back on, but the phone had apparently shut off. That was strange; he could have sworn it had plenty of charge before he fell asleep. Suddenly, Arthur got a cold feeling in his stomach that crept up his throat and over his entire body, as if he had just dove into a pool of freezing water. This chill quickly turned into a feeling of foreboding that sent Arthur to his feet, waking him in a matter of seconds.
He rushed to his window and looked out to the streets below; no one was there. The streets were void of their usual bustling of people and cars going every which way to get somewhere. The only thing Arthur saw was a man on a Ducati fly by underneath his window. The feeling increased as he turned from the window and went to his living room. He grabbed the remote and turned the TV on, hoping for some sort of light to be shed, but the screen was blank. Arthur stared at the screen with his mouth fallen open in surprise when his phone vibrated again. Arthur pulled the phone up to see that the screen had come back on and turned green with white text scrolling across it. He barely comprehended what the words meant with his mind in its current state of panic, but what he did take away from the words were that he had to get out of here, the city, and now.
He threw the phone down on the table and ran to his bedroom, where he started throwing clothes and books into a backpack he had since college. The thing could hold quite a bit, but he soon ran out of space when he managed to fit a few cans of food down into the bag. He grabbed his briefcase and slung it around his shoulder by the leather strap and then made his way to his office. There, he unlocked the top drawer and pulled out the Taurus Model 941 snubnose revolver he kept there out of fear of a robbery; the handgun had a black rubber handle, a two inch barrel, and a black metal finish. Arthur stuffed the revolver into the waistband of his jeans after securing the safety was on and the gun was loaded and then threw the ammo down into his backpack.
After securing everything, Arthur made his way over to his door and peered out into the hall. He heard muffled voices beyond the closed doors of his neighbors and the sound rushing about and hastily packing. Halfway down the hall to the elevator, one of the doors opened to reveal an older lady, whose name Arthur couldn’t recall, but he did remember she worked at the ban downtown. The blonde woman stared at Arthur, with his backpack stuffed and his briefcase slung over his shoulder.
“Mr. Collins, what’s going on? I got a weird message on my phone. Some sort of PSA?”
“I’m not sure, but I’m going out of town all the same. I hate to be rude, but I have to get going. My ride is waiting on my downstairs.”
“But the message said to stay indoors and not to panic…,” her voice trailed off as Arthur made his way down the hall and down to the first floor in the elevator. There, Arthur left the building and went to his car, looking every which way. He could faintly make out the silhouettes of other people frantically making their ways to cars and toward the edge of the city. Arthur got into his car and started it, throwing everything into the passenger seat and backing out of his parking spot. He pulled out onto the main road, looking both ways despite there being no traffic, and made his way out of the city.
The students wished him a good weekend as they left. Arthur smiled and thanked his students as they passed him on their way out of his class and back into the hall beyond to go about their lives. With his briefcase in hand, the middle-aged professor made his way out of the classroom and to his car. Arthur tossed the briefcase onto the passenger seat and sat down with a sigh; it had been a long day so far. He had already been to the museum to examine the new books they had gotten in for an exhibit and then left there and made his way to the university to teach the two Literature classes he was the professor of, and now he was heading back to the museum to continue examining the books.
As he pulled out onto the main road, his stomach grumbled at him. To stop his stomach’s angry outbursts, Arthur steered his car down a one way street and through the drive thru of one of many fast food establishments across the city and ordered himself lunch to quiet his angry stomach. Arthur hastily ate his food on the drive to the museum as there was no way he could eat while examining the text; the museum took the preservation of such artifacts very seriously, to the point of making the examiners wear white gloves while working. The book collector pulled into his designated parking place and turned the car off, rubbing his eyes and leaning back in the driver’s seat before he got out.
He was exhausted already and would rather take the book home with him to examine through the night after he took a lengthy nap, but he would have to get authorized to do so first, so when he entered the museum he veered left instead of right and made his way to his boss’s office on the first floor. When Arthur finally reached his boss’s office, he tapped gently on the partially opened door before entering a second later. The auburn-haired woman sat at her desk, looking over what appeared to be forms for incoming exhibits and looked up when the dark-haired man in a suit walked in.
“Hey, Arthur. How are you?”
“It’s been a long day. Thanks for asking, Linda. How about you?”
“Not too bad, long as well. Been sorting through these new exhibits coming in. How are the new books coming along?”
“Great. I’ve only got one more left to look over, which brings me to why I’m here. I was wondering if I could leave early and take it home with me and work through the night at my place?”
Linda looked at him for a moment, clearly debating whether or not to allow him to take the book home. On one hand it was an extremely rare book, but on the other hand Arthur was such a stickler about the books he worked with that he barely let anyone look at them let alone touch them or come anywhere near damaging them. After staying silent for a few minutes, Linda finally made a decision and approved Arthur to take the book home. With many thanks and a smile, Arthur made his way to his own office, where he swiped his ID card from the museum to get into the room where the books were held. After slipping on the white cotton gloves, Arthur grabbed the book and slipped it down into his briefcase and left, slipping the gloves down alongside it.
After he managed to fight his way through the afternoon traffic and get back to his flat. Arthur entered his empty flat and threw his keys down on his coffee table and gently set his briefcase down on his couch. With a lengthy yawn, Arthur made his way to his bedroom and collapsed on his bed after tossing his phone down on the nightstand. In a matter of minutes, his eyes shut and he drifted off to the land of sleep.
Vvvvvvvvv… vvvvvvvv… vvvvvvvvv
Arthur woke up to the vibrations of his cellphone on his nightstand; he groped around in the dark room for a moment before his hand closed around the shaking phone. He inhaled deeply and rubbed at his eyes with his free hand before looking at the phone through his slightly blurred vision. He had just missed the call, and it changed the number of missed calls to six, and as he examined his phone screen closer he saw that he also had six unheard voicemails and six… the phone screen went black. In frustration, Arthur hit the lock button the turn the screen back on, but the phone had apparently shut off. That was strange; he could have sworn it had plenty of charge before he fell asleep. Suddenly, Arthur got a cold feeling in his stomach that crept up his throat and over his entire body, as if he had just dove into a pool of freezing water. This chill quickly turned into a feeling of foreboding that sent Arthur to his feet, waking him in a matter of seconds.
He rushed to his window and looked out to the streets below; no one was there. The streets were void of their usual bustling of people and cars going every which way to get somewhere. The only thing Arthur saw was a man on a Ducati fly by underneath his window. The feeling increased as he turned from the window and went to his living room. He grabbed the remote and turned the TV on, hoping for some sort of light to be shed, but the screen was blank. Arthur stared at the screen with his mouth fallen open in surprise when his phone vibrated again. Arthur pulled the phone up to see that the screen had come back on and turned green with white text scrolling across it. He barely comprehended what the words meant with his mind in its current state of panic, but what he did take away from the words were that he had to get out of here, the city, and now.
He threw the phone down on the table and ran to his bedroom, where he started throwing clothes and books into a backpack he had since college. The thing could hold quite a bit, but he soon ran out of space when he managed to fit a few cans of food down into the bag. He grabbed his briefcase and slung it around his shoulder by the leather strap and then made his way to his office. There, he unlocked the top drawer and pulled out the Taurus Model 941 snubnose revolver he kept there out of fear of a robbery; the handgun had a black rubber handle, a two inch barrel, and a black metal finish. Arthur stuffed the revolver into the waistband of his jeans after securing the safety was on and the gun was loaded and then threw the ammo down into his backpack.
After securing everything, Arthur made his way over to his door and peered out into the hall. He heard muffled voices beyond the closed doors of his neighbors and the sound rushing about and hastily packing. Halfway down the hall to the elevator, one of the doors opened to reveal an older lady, whose name Arthur couldn’t recall, but he did remember she worked at the ban downtown. The blonde woman stared at Arthur, with his backpack stuffed and his briefcase slung over his shoulder.
“Mr. Collins, what’s going on? I got a weird message on my phone. Some sort of PSA?”
“I’m not sure, but I’m going out of town all the same. I hate to be rude, but I have to get going. My ride is waiting on my downstairs.”
“But the message said to stay indoors and not to panic…,” her voice trailed off as Arthur made his way down the hall and down to the first floor in the elevator. There, Arthur left the building and went to his car, looking every which way. He could faintly make out the silhouettes of other people frantically making their ways to cars and toward the edge of the city. Arthur got into his car and started it, throwing everything into the passenger seat and backing out of his parking spot. He pulled out onto the main road, looking both ways despite there being no traffic, and made his way out of the city.
Almost done with my post, Lo.
All that would be know of the rebellion is that Lucien is leading it and he uses his Illusion magic and Ranger skills against Thomas Briar's men. His Necromancy is still a secret to most. I've not decided who knows of it yet. I figure one of the only ones who knows, though, is Itzli.
So you're Luicen's and Ilayna's... third cousin?
Feisty-Pants said
I am rather looking forward to the new Pokemon games I suppose. Ruby is when I started playing them when I was little! The nostalgia!
Same here, Feisty. Can't wait to train a Treeko again.
I told Enalais that he would be arriving around the time the Jedi team infiltrated the prison because the times overlap slightly.
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