Nevermind

Lumos

Sweet. Btw, Whirl, I'm guessing you'll be controlling your character's sister, yeah?

Apocalyptica

Aweena said
That excitement I felt when I clicked on that hider button, thinking I'd get to read the first CS, aaaaaaand... nope. You got my hopes up big time, Nevermind.No rush, though. Just have it done as soon as you can. The sooner the better. ASAP. Quickly. No pressure.

Bahaha okay. Well it's up now. Not 100% finished but ready to be judged I guess.

Rate the Signature Above You

I'm afraid it's 2spooky4me.
2+4=6
6/10

Apocalyptica

Manu

My legal name is Emmanuel Okoro, Jr., though I suppose my legal name doesn't really matter much any more. My friends used to call me Manu, back when I had friends, before they died. Before I had to kill them. It doesn't matter though, call me what you want, but I guess I'll introduce myself as Manu for now.

My name, my blood and my family comes from West Africa. Nigeria, to be exact. I have never been there myself, only heard stories from my late mother and father. Sometimes I figure it would be safer there than here, which is kind of ironic when considering the whole reason my family moved here was because they thought it would be everything the TV said it was; The American Dream. Maybe it seemed like a dream back when they booked the flight but it sure as shit ain't now. I've never seen no dream in which you have to send your pre-teen kid out on to the streets to hustle for dimes that might not even guarantee your next meal. Some promised land. Either way, I'm here, and I'm stuck here. I was born in Detroit, Michigan in the less tourist friendly side of town - about 24 years ago right about now, I don't really know to be honest, I lost track of the date a while ago.

I like to think I've got a lot going for me. I've got what some people would call street smarts. I can survive on my own, I can handle a gun and I ain't afraid to punch someone's lights out if it means I can get out of a sticky situation alive. I've done some bad thing, I'm no liar, but everything I've done is just another thing that plagues my conscious. I worry that one day I won't be preoccupied enough to block most of my regrets out my head, but right now I'm too busy keeping myself afloat to worry about what I owe the rest of the human race. Like I was saying though, I'm street smart - but I'm pretty intelligent as it goes, at least when compared to 99% of people from my neighbourhood. I actually like to read. That's the only thing I can do in my spare time. Read. The written word has taught me a lot - but in all honest, right now the street smarts are serving me better. Bit of know-how never hurt nobody anyways.

In terms of my looks, I'd say I'm respectable. I was one of the better looking in my part of town - but that isn't exactly something I'd call an achievement what with all the mutilations in my area. It goes without saying that my skin is black. I'm about six foot tall, but I've never given enough of a damn to actually measure myself. I'm in good shape, toned, and I have been for all my life - I had to work hard to survive even before the so-called 'apocalypse' came about. I also didn't mind shooting a hoop or two when I had the time. My jawline is quite distinct, but my face isn't too harsh in it's features. My hair, when grown out, is afro, but I keep it cut short 'cus it gets a pain in the ass when it's long and I don't have the time to brush that shit. I have a short beard growing on my chin, but I might shave it off if I get a chance - it's not on my priority list. My voice is deep and quite gravelly, I speak in quite a lazy way.

From where I'm from, you've got yourself to watch out for and relying on anyone else is a weakness that will probably see yourself get killed. I always wished I had grown up in a better place, but now that I've been thrown in to this shit-storm, I guess I am thankful for the preparation that it gave me. It probably saved my ass. Unfortunately it wasn't enough to prevent the deaths of my family and friends. Detroit was swarming before long. One of my most painful memories to this day was putting a bullet in the head of my friend's skull as he lost his grip on humanity. Luckily, since then, I've found it much easier to kill people. I have to face facts. I'm a murderer. That's if you can count whatever these things are as alive. If not, then I guess I'm just a mortician.

After seeing my crew die, I got the hell out of Detroit and hit the road. I wasn't going to take any risks, so I followed my rules and I trusted nobody, at least not at first. I survived in the wastelands of Michigan for a good amount of time, but it got more and more dangerous as weeks passed. I ran out of food and I ran out of ammunition. I ran out of hope. Luckily, just when I was about to give up, I caught a line that there was some place that I could go and find safety. Some guy told me who was on his way up there. It was a haven, Mackinac island. I somehow managed to make my way up there and I set up a camp near the island, scavenged for goods and sold them to the islanders for goods. I survived pretty good, but I was all by myself other than when I met with the islanders. Anyway, I left that place a couple of weeks ago - the folk were too damn cagey and, honestly, I have heard there are other places, better places. I was alone there. I'd rather die than be alone.

Anyway, here's hoping that this bullshit blows over at some point. It sounds like I'm kidding myself with that, looking at the world around me. It's nothing like it once was. Still, I can hope that some guy in a lab coat somewhere is doing something positive. Maybe.

Regards, Manu.

P.S: If you're reading this I'm probably dead. Shit.

Lumos

Thought Manifest said
Should I post after Shadowcatcher or should I just go ahead and post when I get the time?

Go ahead :)

Letters From Home

Maybe interested

Nature's Outlaws

Don't know where I'm at in terms of my app being accepted or not so I'm just going to go ahead and retract it since it's been a week.

Mysterious File?

OMg M8 Sutternalt has 3 Letters so does satan !! illerminetry

Lumos

As the train rattled away through the hills, the conversation between the group reignited. Though there was certainly something still off, the friends could abandon the feeling, for at least now, for they were more interested in actually catching up with eachother as opposed to feeling sorry for eachother. As usual, Calvin wasn't the most talkative of the group, but he did contribute his part and showed a great deal of interest as each of his friends threw their metaphorical hat in to the ring in terms of summer stories - and even though they weren't as good as last year, they still brought a smile to Calvin's face, as even in what - to be put bluntly, was a shitty summer, each of them had all had bright points. Calvin - for example, had really enjoyed the time spent with his mother. Even though she was there 24/7, some parts of the holiday had really been special. Just them sitting there and talking. He knew she was lonely and she appreciated that he spent time with her, and he was glad, because he enjoyed it too.

Before he knew it they were barely five minutes from Hogwarts, so he quickly pulled out his blue-detailed Ravenclaw robe and pulled it over his casual clothes. He wouldn't normally wear normal clothes like this under his uniform, but he wasn't about to take it all off in front of everyone and change. It was a flawed system really. He frowned and peered out the window, realising that the train was pulling in to Hogsmead station - the end of the line. Hogwarts was in sight. It looked just as magnificent and amazing as it had the first time he laid eyes upon it seven years ago. He stood up and walked out beside Zef, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder and reminding him to avoid the doorframe, eager to save Zef any cool points if he could.

After collecting up his luggage, he went over to claim one of the carriages that were pulled by thestrals. Of course, Calvin couldn't see them. Apparently, you had to have seen someone die to see them, and Calvin never had. Frankly, he would rather not see them and avoid having to watch someone die than vice versa. He had had them described to him by people who could see them before, and it was kind of fascinating. He used to think they were just magical carriages. He supposed that most things that just seemed 'magic' did actually have something behind it.

Soon later, the carriage arrived at Hogwarts and the friends uttered goodbyes to eachother as they moved over to separate tables, save for Adelie and Rin, who went off to sit together on the Gryffindor table. Calvin took a seat by a group of Ravenclaw students who he knew wouldn't talk to him, which was exactly what he was going for. Not that he was a dick or anything, he just didn't really like talking to people just for the sake of talking. It was annoying that most friendship groups were within a house, as when the houses were separated it left Calvin on his own. He didn't care about other people mocking him, as in that way he really didn't care at all, but he could use his friends' company to help burn through the time.

Professor Cybin stood up and cleared his throat, calming the ongoing noise that Calvin hadn't noticed until this moment. "Good evening, students, welcome back to Hogwarts. Please welcome our new first years." The headmaster spoke out as the doors at the back of the hall opened and droves of new students entered, all looking very nervous. It was the sorting ceremony. "Ah, this crap," Calvin muttered to himself, glancing over at the wall as the thing went in to full flow.

Lumos

RAUL CYBIN
Male, 60, Headmaster of Hogwarts

Magical Characteristics
Blood Type
- Pure Blood

Wand Details
- Oak Wood
- Phoenix Feather Core
- 13"
- Bendy

Patronus
- a Pigeon

Boggart
- His father

Historical Information
Birthplace
- Manchester, England

Relationships
- Rodway Cybin | Male | 84 | Alive, Imprisoned | Wizard | Father
- Emily Cybin | Female | 27 (at death) | Deceased | Muggle | Wife
- Raul Cybin, Jr. | Male | 25 (at death) | Deceased | Wizard | Son

Background
- Raul Cybin was raised in the clustered city of Manchester, England in what appeared, from the outside, to be a tiny flat, but was in fact a considerably large apartment on the inside - for Raul was a wizard of pure blood, his family tree consisting entirely of wizards and witches for several generations - his parents were very proud of this fact, and made it very clear that Raul should be a great wizard to continue the family name. Due to his sharp mind and his wise outlook, he was sorted in to Ravenclaw house when he arrived at Hogwarts when he was eleven years old. He was a model student, got on with his work and never caused any trouble. He coasted through, and many believed he would have a bright future, and it seemed he would, for he became an Auror after leaving the school.

Then an issue came up: he fell in love with a muggle. He did not tell his parents for some time, and had proposed and conceived a child with her before he did so. When he did tell his parents, they were extremely furious, especially his father, who physically lashed out at Raul. Raul, despite being hurt, moved on, choosing his new wife and son, whom he named Raul, Jr., over his parents wishes. However, his father could not take it and burst in to his family home late one night, demanding that Raul left his wife. Raul's wife heard the commotion, and came down - then Raul's father did it, he shot her with curse that sent her slamming in to a wall and, ultimately yet undirectly, killing her. Raul's father was locked up for the rest of his life, though it did not make the loss any easier. He was a single father.

Raul Jr. was raised with much more care than his father, though he had a similar amount of success through school and after, becoming an Auror like his father once was. They served together in the Wizarding war against Voldemort's death eaters. In one fateful battle, they were ambushed and both injured terribly. The difference was, Raul survived, his son did not - and died in his arms.

With his son dead and his life in tatters, Raul resigned from his place as an Auror and became a teacher at Hogwarts, initially teaching History of Magic before moving on to Defence Against the Dark Arts, a job he kept for around a decade, slowly falling back in to a normal pattern of life as he did so. He then succeeded Minerva McGonagall as head of Hogwarts, a role that he was happy to take as he had always sought out a more reserved role, Ludwig Develyn taking his place as teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts. He has now been in the position for over two years.

Personal Information
Personality
- Professor Cybin is a very introverted man, which is odd considering how easy he finds it to speak out in front of others. Whilst he is a very confident and controlling man, who, by no means, is afraid to take hold, he is known to be quite reclusive, spending little time outside of his office when he is not required by his colleagues. He rarely attends public events, taking little interest in things such as quidditch. Many students find him quite intimidating and struggle to find the courage to bring issues to him if they have them, though that is because they do not know him. In truth, Cybin is a very down-to-earth, calm and kind man. He is rarely rattled and always takes his time to work through things. Cybin is seen by most as an elusive and mysterious man by pupils as few know him on a casual-chatting basis. Cybin takes his work very seriously and gets through it as properly as possible - he is never caught slacking, and makes sure everything is on point, regimental with his punishment, but fair in his treatment of pupils, hence why he is a perfect fit for the job in many people's eyes.

Likes
- Intelligence
- Space to himself
- Ambition
- Empathy

Dislikes
- Hypocrisy
- Pride
- Arrogance
- Unwanted attention

Appearance Information
Height
- 6' 2"

Body Frame
- Broad.
- Tall.

Features
- Grey hair, once brown, that is cropped short, slightly balding.
- Long, sunken face. Wrinkled.
- Pale grey-blue eyes.
- Cleanshaven.
- Long nose, crooked.

Clothing Style
- Professor Cybin is a simple, humble man, so that is how he dresses. Whilst his garments are respectful and fitting for a man in his seat of power, his robes are usually solid black in colour, leaving no room for extravagance.