Status

Recent Statuses

3 hrs ago
Current one does not run discord servers. they gain sentience as soon as the first person joins.
9 likes
1 day ago
A new PW will come out and die again before the Mahz update.
9 likes
4 days ago
Fuck Dominic Cummings.
7 likes
6 days ago
You know most of this panic could be avoided if there was just an informative post in the announcements section as to what's going to happen. Rather than 200 character messages in the status bar.
8 likes
14 days ago
Just hit the 200k word milestone in a 1x1, three years after the first PM – that's a lotta words for a Harry Potter AU! Truly blessed to have found my writing soulmate. All my love to Undine.
4 likes

Bio

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Hello! 
Hello!
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My name is Roach, formerly known as McHaggis, and I've been on this site for a good while now. Wherever I end up, the Guild will always have a special place in my heart because it's where I met some of my very best friends and long-time writing partners. (Five years strong!)

There's not much to say about me except that I'm a twenty-two year old graduate with time to kill in lockdown.

Currently trying to tame BBCode or die trying. I think it's going pretty well. If you are at all interested in this endeavour, please check out my guide or PM me for a bit of chit-chat about tables so janky you can literally break the site with them.
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Most Recent Posts

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“But it’s so draughty up in Gryffindor Tower, and my bed’s so cold at night. What’s a man to do?”
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧 
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧
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𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐆𝐫𝐲𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐫  
𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐆𝐫𝐲𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐫

Casanova. Heartbreaker. 'Call me Charlie' is at the centre of every salacious rumour flitting through the halls of Hogwarts, or trying his hardest to be. He lives for the scandal in wooing polite ladies of reputable standing with his good looks and flirtatious charm but always leaves them wanting more; reputed master of the obscuro and incarcerous spells that he is.

Charles is seldom seen without a protective pack of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs around him and is often in the company of his closest friend Marcello Zabini. By night, he can be found wandering the castle, or in ██████████████████████████████████████ – unrepentant about his vices and furthering his reputation as the elusive ██████████████.

𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫...
 𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫...

“I thought that I would be the one for whom it would last. More the fool
I. Our day came and went, and midnight never visited again.”
– a former conquest

“If he even considers adding my sister to a list of his pureblood
conquests, I'll stick his damn broom where the sun doesn't shine.”
– a concerned brother

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Firstly, I hope you are not going to start moving threads without the GM's approval, @POOHEAD189.

Secondly, there are plenty of casual threads that would be Advanced by the metric of post length alone, but I would argue this ignores the culture of each section; a vibe that most users of the Guild are implicitly aware of.

If the section a RP belongs in were predicated on the volume of lore squirreled away in hiders, then you would only find fandom settings in Casual, and you would never get any original fantasy or sci-fi settings anywhere outside of Advanced. You can't send a RP to the gulag Advanced just because the world-building is "dull".

When a GM makes a RP, they make it with a certain type of player in mind: people who they have met in previous roleplays in the same section and in the same genre, people with the same expectations of railroading vs. sandbox, people who encourage a certain level of OOC chatter and hype, people who don't argue over granular details of lore for hours on end, etc.

Cynics would say they pick Casual because it's the most busy section, but that's a hard disagree from me. In my experience, it usually boils down to 'I like the userbase in Casual over Advanced and I want to see what they bring to the table'.

I would trust a GM knows best what audience they are targeting for their roleplay and it seldom comes down to word count.

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"As you may come to find, ‘making up for lost time’ is a hobby of mine."
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𝐂𝐲𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝐆𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭 
𝐂𝐲𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝐆𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭
𝐂𝐲𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝐆𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭
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𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐑𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰  
𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐑𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰

Whip-smart and level-headed with a great love of books but a strong scepticism of people, it is no surprise that Cyrus Gaunt – direct descendent of Salazar Slytherin – was placed into Ravenclaw. Though he maintains a tight-knit, supportive social circle, many give him a wide berth as if whatever ails him is infectious, and many more judge him for the actions of his monstrous little brother.

Specialising in alchemy, Cyrus is frequently found in the potions classroom working on ████████ or in the library, scaring off company by threatening to debate them. Despite his dislike of large crowds, he attends most of Ronan Lestrange's parties to show solidarity, though has been known to "faint" during them to escape trivial conversation.
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𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫...
 𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫...

“Cyrus is in the Hospital Wing every other week; there's no way he can
keep up with his coursework, not without cheating.”
– an academic rival

“An absolute disgrace to the Slytherin name, though what else can be
expected of the Gaunts? They're paupers in all but blood.”
– the wrong kind of pureblood



































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Tentatively interested! Have always thought about playing a kenku one day and I see that it is allowed here...
In Sentaku 19 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
𝗧𝗘𝗔𝗠 𝟯 𝗩𝗦. 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗛
@Roach, @Hey Im Jordan, @KZOMBI3 𝗙𝗧. 𝗣𝗢𝗘𝗠𝗦 𝗕𝗬 @Fiber
With his hands behind his head and a slug princess on his shoulder, Kaminari Hikaru had a certain pep in his step as they moved away from the group and to one of the different entry points. Karu was looking forward to this! This was a real chance to show off his abilities, rather than barely floundering through a written exam (he was silently hoping his sensei never saw the results of that test). This was his best chance to show the world his moves.

The rank of chūnin had never been closer! “So, we need a plan of attack. Right? And a real one, not like what we usually do where, Mori is like ‘hey do we have a plan,’ and then I’m like ‘yeah, my plan is to attack, and then I use the Kaminari Wind Tunnel Burst Technique. Something with more clarity than that.” Karu stretched his hands up from behind his head and into the air, leaning side to side to get his blood pumping. “I’m itchin’ for a fight. Don’t tell me you guys want to be all tactical, right? That’d be so boring…”

“We can call it something different, if it would make you feel better,” Mori suggested drily. It was often two versus one in the department of not-rushing-off-and-getting-killed, and as the one on the losing side of this debate most often, he wanted to get his piece in first. “I vote for strategically making our way through this forest and fighting only the teams we need to get that other scroll. We want to come first place, right?”‘

With a skip to her step, Iza piped up to her fellow teammates, “Soooo like strategically kickin’ ass?” the wide, offset grin should point to more hazardous plans than just ‘kickin’ ass’ but who were any of them to question the half baked ideas that floated around in Izayoi’s head. If anything at all. “Who do you boys think the best team to knock out is gonna be? Hmm?”

“I talked to this guy, before the written exam… he seemed pretty strong. I didn’t fight him, but I wish I had! Maybe we can find him in there… then, of course, there are a few squads from Konoha worth looking out for. I know there’s Ashikaga guy — he blew through that heavy door at the center… then I think the Senju boy and Jiren were about to fight. It’s gonna be a war in there! Let’s just send it and beat the first group we found! Why take it slow?” He paused, and thoughtfully looked between the two of his teammates. For the briefest of moments, it seemed like Karu might have something important to say, something worthy of the team leader role he’d bestowed upon himself — without the insight of either of them. It seemed like Karu was about to step it up and be the man his mother hoped he could be, and then… he spoke.

“Maybe if we’re the first ones to the tower, there’ll be a huge celebratory feast!”

Mori’s hands were shoved in his pockets, rummaging around at the contents – scraps of paper he’d transferred fūinjutsu during the written exam and a few crumpled (but serviceable) sealing tags. He didn’t speak much at the question of which teams were strong, because any number of their graduating cohort would be a challenge, and a fight between them could go either way.

“We should find that out, Karu,” he encouraged. Quite frankly doing things fast was something that could be worked with; doing things with the usual Kaminari flair and flash, on the other hand, was antithetical to what he thought a ninja ought to be. “But we do need plans. What to do if we get separated, to defend against enemy infiltration, retreat plans… To make ‘strategically beating their–’ you know, easier.”

Iza couldn't help but roll her eyes before twirling around in her spot, eventually falling on her back and enjoying the sight of the leaves rustling in the breeze somewhere above them. "Easy is boring and you know it, Mori. Besides, I didn't get to actually fight nothing worth nothing before the written test…" She puffed her cheeks as she pouted thinking about the potential waste of time spent fighting nobodies earlier.

She had to admit though, both of her teammates weren't entirely wrong in their ideas for how the next portion of the test should be played out. Yes, some kind of plan was needed, but she also just wanted to do something. When the thought of Katsumi sensei berating her even more crossed her mind she couldn't resist gritting her teeth and snapping into a sitting position. "Just… ugh, sorry Karu, Imma hafta side with Mor. We need some kind of plan. I'm not gonna be the reason Katsu sensei chews us out. Not this time," Iza would be remiss if she said it wasn't time to start using Karu's title to their advantage.

"How's this, Mori and I focus on the initial attack and detaining of the team and you can land the finishing touches."

“That’s ridiculous, why would I do that? I don’t wanna land the finishing blows, I wanna be the hero of the day! This is my chance to come into my own, and earn my last name! Or… something like that anyway… look, the point is, if i’m just comin’ in to finish ‘em off, then nobody’s ever gonna run on sight from me, they’ll just run from you guys! That doesn’t work, y’know.” Karu protested, just a little bit away from stamping his foot, in a childish tantrum, but he held back. A ninja doesn’t throw tantrums. He had to make his dad proud! His mom proud! And most of all, he needed to show his older brother how strong he’d gotten under Katsumi-sensei’s tutelage. For some reason, Karu ranked that the highest; it most likely had something to do with the rivalries some of the Konoha jonin seemed to have… well, except for Samuru-sensei, who seemed less and less like he should really be a sensei. In fact, Karu was fairly certain he’d never seen or heard of Samuru doing anything nearly cool enough to be a sensei!

But, that wasn’t the point. The point then and there was simple: Karu didn’t want to be babied. “I think you’ll find that I’m the one holding the scroll —” Karu waved the team’s Earth scroll around in front of his teammates. Having claimed he was the team captain, Karu was the one that had been handed the scroll. To Karu’s neverending surprise, neither of his teammates had spoken up when he’d staked the claim… Maybe they do believe in me! “— so I should have some say in what we do! I think we should split up, and do some scouting. We can have a password to make sure we’re not trying to infiltrate the group… hey, when did we get inside the forest?”

Looking around himself, Karu found that they had indeed entered the Forest of Death.

There was no stopping their ‘team captain’ when he was like this, so Mori silently followed without protest – shooting only a worried glance at Iza and a half-shrug at Karu’s form ahead of them.

“One of Katsumi-sensei’s lessons, perhaps?” Mori asked, scratching a low-lying branch with an errant swipe of his kunai as they passed. Already the trees were blending into one another, indistinguishable in the low light from the canopy above, so a few man-made landmarks could not hurt. “There are a few poetic ones in the book, which I know you guys have for sure read… and no-one else will have.”

And then, in the knowledge that at least one of them hadn’t, he continued, “‘Hear the reeds speak / they tell when to clasp and loose / the sacred arrow.’”

Iza grumbled lowly as she walked in step with Mori, catching his side glance and glaring at the back of their 'fearless leader's' head. If it came down to it she would restrain him and she would hope that Mori would assist. Something for her to run by him when she got the chance.

Another roll of her eyes at the mention of Katsumi-sensei and her extensive reading list she thrust on them; as a form of "training". "Yeah, that would work. It's not like anyone would gather what it is. Probably think it's just some death pack poem or something…" While Mori was busy cutting into branches on his side of the makeshift path they were creating she opted to do the same.

"Honestly think splitting up is dumb, but whatever… if we need to regroup, because we will, just follow Karu's shouts," She smirked at the both of them before taking off to the higher branches of the surrounding trees leaving the two of them to their own devices.

“Iza! We’ll meet right back here at night!” Karu shouted after Iza as she hopped into the trees, and in the same breath he threw a kunai, sticking it into the tree and marking their place. If they were going to hunt and explore the forest, then it was important that they had a home base… and this seemed just as good as any. Their craziest adventures wouldn’t be on the first day, right? That would be ridiculous. “Mori, how long can the princess be out? I’ll bring her back tonight!” Karu didn’t even wait for an answer before he was gone, flying into the trees.

Down on the forest floor and suddenly very, very alone, Mori pinched the bridge of his nose and drew his jacket closer to him. The ebb and flow of his connection to Princess Nurunuru tickled, like he was stuck by a leech, but he could feel it stretching away to the east as Karu carried her away. At least he would be able to keep Karu alive through chakra infusions if he got into the thick of it.

Hopefully.

Knowing full well that neither Iza nor Karu were close enough to hear him ‘shout’ (when it would only ever reach the volume of a moderate drone), he called after them, “This wasn’t what I meant!” A quick hop up onto the nearest branch, and it wasn’t even a question who he was going to follow after – there was no way he could leave Iza alone out there.


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LOGAN 
LOGAN

Meanwhile, in the men's room of The Pit: another daily dose of criminality was taking place; an illegal and illegitimate transaction as was far too common in Oceanside. Logan Prescott carefully counted out his dollar bills then fanned himself with him, accomplishing little but wafting the stale air of a bathroom seldom cleaned in the face of his sometimes-dealer, Big Mac – a larger man-about-town who was definitely the most understanding of any he'd done business with before.

"What'll it be, Prez? The usual? Or something better?"

The idea certainly did hold some sway over him. Logan scratched at a phantom itch running up his forearm through the cuff of his jacket, until he shook his head decisively. Once every other month was fine for that particular indulgence, he didn't want to get that feeling his old bandmates described as 'the rats'. "Just the usual. But gimme a couple extra – last payday was mighty and I want to give everyone a good time this weekend. Thanks."

The dealer in the men's room of The Pit didn't even blink at the request, nor did he have to arrange prices with one of his most regular customers. The deal was made (ecstasy taken from an empty tub of chewing gum for a handful of crumpled bills and a handshake) and afterwards, Big Mac pulled out a crushed carton of cigarettes from his inside pocket, holding it out to Logan with a meaty fist. "You do you. Want a smoke?"

Though the outside said they were Marlboros, that was a lie. Logan made a face at the sight of them – disgust mixing with disappointment of having standards too high to accept a freebie for once. "Cloves? Nah, man you're a fucking monster, get out of here and get yourself something decent," Logan said with a hearty clap on the back, rustling the plastic tucked under his thumb. "Stay healthy will ya?"

As he sauntered out of the men's room, he tugged on the belt of his leather pants to bring them up another tight inch, sliding tonight's get into the back pocket. When the time was right he'd break it out: either he'd be having a wonderful night with the best people he'd ever met in his life (and would be willing to share) or he'd turn a miserable one palatable for himself.

Of course, The Pit wasn't the kind of establishment Logan could cause problems in – not without taking a massive dump in his own stomping grounds-slash-sometimes place of employment. Plus, Rig would stop letting him skip queues as a professional courtesy, bouncer-to-bouncer, and that was utterly unthinkable; the sort of thing he used to do with The Sinnermen.

Fuck the Sinnermen, he thought with no amount of spite, as he often did whenever anything reminded him of his old bandmates, and hurried towards the bar to dive into the action.

"Did I hear somebody say shots? 'Cus I'll take one too, Robin Hood," Logan said, entering the picture and throwing one arm over the shoulders of Darcy, which was his usual greeting for that particular spitfire, and planting the other on the bar, cigarette dripping ash. It was busy tonight – a bunch of faces he knew well, a few bodies he wanted to know better (Biblically-speaking), and at least one he pretended not to recognise from the other side of the silver screen.

He winked at the bartender, 'cus that was what one did with bartenders, wasn't it? Didn't matter if it was Robin or Jed, they were getting flirted with; that was Logan's law. "In honour of that brave, brave stiff who followed his dick into the wrong neighborhood, of course. Who brought him?"


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"As always, you have my wand arm, and I’ve got your back."
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𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐙𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐢 
𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐙𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐢
𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐙𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐢
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𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐟𝐟  
𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐟𝐟

Marcello Zabini is a duellist whose family hails from (and still holds land in) beautiful Italy. He was put here on God's green earth for one reason and one reason only: to love and cherish his friends, whom he would die for without a second thought. Charming, confident, and competitive, Marcello is profoundly deaf, but his "fashion" choices are loud enough to compensate.

One of the first things Marcello did at Hogwarts was befriend the house elves. He can often be found in the kitchens by the hearth if not in the common room or the Great Hall. Some nights, he attends secret ████████████████████████████ – accounting for a fearsome reputation in certain circles.

𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫...
 𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫...

“Marcello? Oh, he wouldn't hurt a fly. He'd give you the robes off
his back if you needed them!”
– a Hufflepuff half-blood

“Zabini? Um. Er. I shouldn't say anything. In fact, I believe I am
physically unable to as per the rules... But he's terrifying.”
– a Slytherin duellist

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"I like to go on walks through a draughty castle when no-one else is awake, don’t you?"
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██████████████████████

𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 
𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬
𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬
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𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐒𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧  
𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐒𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧

Though he keeps himself to himself, the rumour mill continues to turn. It says that Renard and the Desrosiers escaped a wizarding revolution in France, that they lost everything but their pedigree and are seeking to set down roots in the British pureblood community. Renard is a Slytherin with grand ambitions (████████████████████) and the unwavering sense of self to follow through on them. It is worrying to some that he has neither confirmed nor denied these claims.

Of course, few can ever find him in the castle to ask questions. He spends his days mostly in █████████████████████ and his nights skulking around Hogwarts after curfew, avoiding the watchful gaze of the prefects.

𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫...
 𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫...

“He may be one of us, but he's living on the charity of the Notts? No
self-respecting pureblood would ever stoop so low.”
– a catty noble

“This is a conspiracy theory, but does anyone know what part of
France the Desrosiers are supposed to be from?”
– a suspicious peer

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"I prefer to keep both feet in the real world – you’ll find no chasing fairytales from me."
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𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝
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𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐟𝐟  
𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐟𝐟

Strict, stoic, serious Warren Underwood can't catch a break. His ambitions were not enough for Slytherin but his work ethic is the definition of Hufflepuff, determined to ██████████████████████ while providing a good life for his younger brother Wesley, whom he has guardianship over. A stickler for the rules, it is no surprise that he made Head Boy after a summer of ████████████████████████████. No one has let him know he'd get further in life if only he smiled more.

As a prefect, Warren somehow managed to be everywhere at once, taking a calamitous course-load. That has not changed. When he's not patrolling, he's in the prefect's common room, and if he's not there – well, he must be in the █████████████████, getting a few moments of self-indulgence.

𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫...
 𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫...

“You can't bribe him. You can't even appeal to his better nature. He's
got one love and it's his rules. Well, he can stick them up his––”
– a peeved rule-breaker

“They say his parents worked for the Department of Mysteries before
they shuffled off this mortal coil. What were they researching?”
– an irredeemable gossip

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"The places one can go if only they hold their head high and stumble confidently forward."
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𝐑𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 
𝐑𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞
𝐑𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞
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𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐑𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰  
𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐑𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰

Ronan is the only eldest son and heir of the current Minister for Magic, Radolphus Lestrange. A workshy dilettante disliked by none but respected by few, he is a lover of spirited debate and pursuits of the mind – a social butterfly with a clever streak. In recent years, he has turned to a life seeking pleasure and popularity as a result of ██████████████████. The private parties he throws are said to be unforgettable, as are the █████████████ he brings to the table.

During the day, Ronan can be found 'resting his eyes' in the library, often in the company of his close friend Cyrus Gaunt, but by night he attends whatever shindig is talk of the castle. If there's nothing going on, well, ████████████████████████████.

𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫...
 𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫...

“I heard that he receives a new Howler from home every week – he
must be a right pain in the Minister's backside!”
– a bemused student

“They say that half the contraband in Hogwarts comes through
the Ravenclaw common room.”
– a bribed prefect

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