Ves

The Dark Arts Society

He immediately loaded his plate. Darius felt a small smirk flit onto his lips as he filled the glass china with an assortment of lean dishes - a t-bone steak, some mashed-potatoes on the side, and a large, hearty filling of steam vegetables. Ignoring the butter beer - he really didn't see how it was delicious - the young boy quietly looked to his left. He had heard of house-elves delivering food and drink underneath an illusionment charm, but he doubted it. Maybe they would cater to his wishes, just this once? "Do you have any Sprite?" His favorite drink back home. There was hesitation, and then, with a small pop, a cool, refreshing can of the fizzy drink was sitting beside his meal. Allowing his smirk to grow into a slight grin, Darius drank with polite gusto, almost finishing the entire can before he dug into his steak. The meat was thick, tender, and slightly well-done; just how he liked it. It was truly amazing how they managed to get every little thing just right. As he dined, he allowed his eyes to roam over the others. Sitting by a few first-years, he felt a bit awkward. He was one year older, but even then, it slightly surprised him how little some of them were. They were ten and eleven years old, he remembered, but it was still weird to see it. Relinquishing an inner shrug, Darius returned to his meal, not really interested in any small-talk at this moment. He truly wanted to explore the building, and perhaps find a library to go over some first and second year spells - he could probably even try out third yeared ones! It was an exciting thought, and he continued to eat his food at a sedate, yet slightly hurried pace, making sure not to spill in his haste. As he ate a load of brussel-sprouts, allowing them to crunch at the back of his teeth, Darius' ears honed in on a conversation not even a few seats away. A hufflepuff male had come over to their table, and was talking to his brother. He wasn't really interested, until the term 'death eaters' came up. Now...that was interesting. He realized that he had been blatantly staring with fork in hand, and the First-Year promptly began eating, although his ears were now on the two boys' conversation.

The Dark Arts Society

NAME : Darius M. Anderson DOB : January 2nd, 1987 APPEARENCE : Darius takes after his father, moreso than his mother. Being an American, he has rather fair skin, and his hair is a dark black, with natural, dirty blonde streaks, near the roots, being rather shaggy in appearance - flitting over his hazel, nearly amber eyes, and going to the nape of his neck. He's rather tall for his age, standing at 5'6 or 5'7, and his form is still developing - but football, baseball, and Quidditch has already shaped it into a slightly muscular build. BLOOD STATUS : Half-blood. PERSONALITY : Naturally being a determined person, he is both focused and competent, being more mature than what his twelve years of age dictates. He is serious in his quest to become a powerful wizard warrior, and one day Auror. He isn't afraid of conversation, but if he isn't talking, he's not there at all, maybe jogging around the lake, training, or playing a heavy game of quidditch. When he talks, he keeps up in the conversation, although he may not say as much as the other party. He's not rude, being respectful if you're respectful first, but he is blunt, and will blatantly tell you if you're being stupid of cowardish. He never backs down from a fight. WAND : Blackthorn with Dragon Heartstring HOUSE : Gryffindor BEST CLASSES : Charms, Transfiguration, and DADA. WORST CLASSES : Divination, Herbology. HISTORY : Unlike the vast majority of Hogwarts students, Darius was not born in Great Britain. Rather, he grew up in America, in a muggle city with his two American parents, Rose and Colton Anderson. Colton was a retired auror, and his mother a nurse, and despite wanting a peaceful life, his father taught Darius all they knew about the auror system. Enchanted by the tales, Darius began reading magical fairy-tail books, and decided that he wanted to be a warrior, rather than a wizard. "The one who wields a sword and shield, striking down evil dragons!" He had read to his amused, wary parents when they were sitting around the campfire. They patiently explained that wizards were different in real life, and you can be both a warrior and a wizard. Life continued on, with his dream to become the strongest wizard warrior growing stronger each day. At muggle school, he played all sorts of sports, generally enjoying a muggle life, when not diligently studying practical magic theories in his room. When he received a letter from the American wizarding school, he ignored it, not really liking the thought. His parents respected his opinion. However, when, at the age of eleven, his father was called to become an Auror at Great Britain, they had to move, and could no longer ignore the letters - which was getting annoying. He was enrolled into First Year, considering he didn't have any formal magical education - having ignored the American Wizarding School's calling.

Trip City

xD It's okay. Now he's just hanging out at the door. He's really serious and dedicated to his 'work'.

Trip City

OH sorry, must've read your post wrong.

Trip City

Jason's walk was unhurried and casual - to avoid suspicion, he always reminded himself. Being a...'runner' of sorts wasn't bad. He basically just chilled in his apartment or something until someone sends him a letter, describing where the package is hidden, and where he needs to take said package. He had another package to finish off the day, and it was located in something called The Silver Dragon. As he walked passed the form of a mother disciplining her child, Jason adjusted his hoodie, so that the hood left his upper face in shadows. The young man wore his usual street clothing, consisting of a white long-sleeved shirt un-buttoned half-way, with a half-unzipped gray hoodie over that, and a durable leather jacket with emblems over that. It was practical, casual, and it allowed him to go everywhere without any suspicion - it wasn't ratty enough to get him kicked out of fancy restaraunts, and it wasn't rich enough to get him jumped in the ghettos. Perfect. As he got within touching distance of the bar/restaraunt...he noted...that it wasn't open. Great. Perfect. How would he get the stupid package? With a grunt, he entered quietly. Knowing the deliverer, he would only be here for the booze, and so he had to wait until the entire thing opened...or, he could get lucky, and the man could come early. He sat at a table near the back, hiding his face behind the menu.

Trip City

Welp, it depends on him. I personally don't believe you/don't really care, but if he accepts the five martial arts, I guess you're good. I'm going out, so peaces~

Trip City

I think he means the whole 'knows five martial arts, can beat an armed man, master at weapon combat', those sorts of things.

S.H.I.E.L.D: New Heroes Initiative

Jason, whom had patiently been silent and waiting, suddenly straightened and cracked his neck. Suddenly, large cracking sounds rang out along the runway, and one could see a large red haze where Jason had previously been. If one looked forward, they would see a hooded man in combat boots sprinting, easily passing by the flying girl above him, with each step springing him forward a few dozen feet.

The Dark Arts Society

No problemo. I sent a CS, so if someone drops, just notify me.

Trip City

Jason couldn't help but scowl in annoyance as he knocked heavily on the tight metal door. A slide opened up near the top, and red, blurry red eyes stared out - more specifically, at the white, taped package in the hooded, young man's hand. "Is that the shit?" A raspy, mousy voice came from the steel door. Once more, Jason scowled, although he spoke up, his smoky, yet young voice holding a tint of annoyance. "It is. Pay up." After a brief pause, a wad of twenties and hundreds came sliding through the panel, and Jason shoved the package through before pocketing the money and blatantly about-facing. As he passed a camera, he casually took a piece of heavy duct-tape from the lens, his form already gone when the sensors began to pick up again. As he began walking away from the seedy apartment, Jason allowed his scowl to fall away, replaced by a small smirk. He fingered the heavy bills in his pocket, casually dodging away from a speeding cyclist. "All in a day's work." Delivering suspicious packages..well, it wasn't the best jobs, but it sure did pay well.