#example audition

About the player

Name: Enea

Age: 17

Timezone: GMT+1

Activity level: I would call myself a 7 out of 10. When I'm not at school, I'm pretty much always online. I really need a life.

Anything else: [RFP]

Character card

Character you’re applying for: Kurt Hummel

Character’s age and birthday: 20, March 5th.

Character’s sexuality: Homosexual.

What does your character blog about?: 

Kurt has gathered quite a following in the past year. In his videos he mostly talks about fashion and music and things that happen to him in his everyday life. Sometimes, not often, he will open up about the problems from his past, hoping he can help others with it.

Character’s bio: When it came to Kurt Hummel, destiny wasn’t always that fair. Kurt Elizabeth Hummel was born, a little more than 20 years ago, as the first and only child of Burt and Celine Hummel. While his dad worked hard at the tire shop, his mother worked part time so she could spend as much time with the boy as she could. Even without a cape, she was the boy’s biggest hero. When Kurt was 8 years old, however, he had to say goodbye to his mother as she passed away after a hard battle with Leptospirosis. The little boy’s heart broke as he saw how it also drifted him farther away from his dad.

However, the boy was tougher than most people thought. Even though he wasn’t the most popular kid in pre-school, he had still managed to get some good friends. It was only in Middle School that he saw how bad some people could be. The teasing names started, calling him out for his sexuality, which for the young boy was still a very confusing subject.

When High School came around, Kurt knew who he was. But there was still a big difference between knowing and coming out for it, surely since he had to find out that things wouldn’t get better after Middle School. The name-calling had evolved into being pushed into lockers and threats. High School was one of the worst periods in Kurt’s life, so far. As tough as he may be, things started to weigh on him and the things in his mind became darker and darker, until finally after a long talk with his dad and a psychologist, he got the sticker of ‘depressed’ on his forehead.

Coming out to his dad hadn’t been that easy, but the man understood better than he thought he would. It’s not like he really liked the idea of it, but he knew that he had the support that he had always hoped for. It was around that time that he felt himself becoming closer to his dad again.

But even hell stops someday, and graduation was finally there (even though in Kurt’s case, it was a year later than expected). Finally he was free from the constant fear that he had to live in in those hallways. Instead of going to college immediately, Kurt took a year for himself to try and become a happier person. It took a lot of ups and downs, but Kurt became the young man he is today. Stronger, thanks to everything, and with a positive look on life. He had lost enough time already, now was his time to shine.

After a lot of thinking, Kurt went back to school. Instead of staying in Lima, however, he chose for London. He’s currently studying communication management.

The distance between London and Lima is quite big. For that reason he promised his dad to keep him up to date with the help of video’s, which he then put online. However, more and more people picked up on his videos and what was meant to be a private channel between him and his dad, became his reason of internet fame. Kurt started talking about fashion and music, his passions, and every now and then, when his followers ask for it, he will talk about the demons from his past, hoping that he can help someone or make someone feel better because of it.

Character’s location: Paris, France.

Ships: Kurt/Chemistry

Anti-ships: Kurt/Forced

About the blogger

If there is one thing you could change about yourself, what would it be? And Why?  Honestly? I sometimes wish I had the power of keeping myself from buying things I might not really need. It's not like I am a hoarder, or anything of that kind, but I do have some things (mostly things that were on tv) that haven't even come out of their box yet, even though they have been standing in my dorm for a few weeks now. 

Though I definitely don't regret my massage belt. That thing works wonders.

The Zombie apocalypse suddenly breaks out. What would be your survival technique? Interesting question. I'd say I'm a bigger fan of the 'hide and wait'-technique. I'd find myself a nice place on a high floor, make sure I have enough to eat and drink, and wait 'till some heroes do the good work. 

It's not like I have any experience with weapons, and I don't see the appeal in being followed by Zombies. But I'm sure some do, and at least one has to do a good job at it, right?

If you could tell your younger self one thing, what would it be? I know that life's hard, right now and that you're close to just giving up and just trying to fit in with the rest of them. But that's not you. Believe me when I say that life's gonna get better once you graduate and that you're gonna feel better. The people that are bothering you know, won't be there in the future and won't matter. You feeling better, will be the ultimate 'screw you', and it will feel awesome.

Wand: Cedar, dragon heart string, a neat twelve inches, unyielding

Boggart: Himself, wandering lost wrestling for control from a formless entity. So far life has been easy. Rodolphus was a perfect barrier between him and his parents. There is no question in Rabastan’s mind where he stands on the issue of purifying their world but, this talk of war brought sudden responsibilities. Rodolphus always got stuck with that nonsense. Now training to be a soldier, his final years of his adolescence are no longer his own.

Patronus: Pure happiness that is essential to fuel a patronus is not something Rabastan is practiced in mustering. There are no fond or whimsical memories from his rigid pureblood childhood. Presently in his life there are moments and hobbies that bring him…joy. A twisted gleeful pleasure in the misery of others. Emotions showing on his sleeve because a filter of tact or common courtesy is something entitled to him and his bloodline, not the basic humans that scurry around him. Still, as of yet underage, a sliver of child-like innocence remains in his aura. Far from a pure heart, it is enough that a thin wisp of silver mist curls out of his wand upon muttering the incantation. As with all Death Eaters it is impossible for Rabastan to conjure any form of patronus once fully committed to the dark path.

Mirror of Erised: Making a name for himself. As much as Rodolphus is the only individual he truly cares for, Rabastan is weary of living in his older brother’s shadow.

Cause or Resistance: The Cause

Anything you would like to add or change? Any concerns or changes should be submitted here. Any changes to FC’s will have to be discussed and you will be notified with a answer. Password:

Biography:

Was, is the perfect term for Rabastan Lestrange. The youngest son of the Lestrange boys. From a young age it was instilled in him by his mother Aurelia that acting anything but properly would not be acceptable by the family. Reputation, how everyone saw the legendary powerful family with one of the oldest names was everything. It mattered how he spoke, the way he walked, how he greeted people. His father Romulus was the enforcer willing to do anything for the lessons of what was expected to sink into his son’s heads. Romulus wasn’t above physical punishment to rid his sons of weakness no crying was allowed, in fear of more of the same. Many of the purebloods withstood the same treatment it was what was done it their world, never spoken about but everyone knew. Due to these harsh realities brandished on him at such a young age Rabastan harbored nothing but dislike to the parents who bore him. However, he would do as he was told because despite their harsh methods they were correct. Unflinchingly, he believes in pureblood elitism and the need to purge their world of blemishes and mutations.

Though it was a relief the pressure wasn’t on his shoulders as it was on his brother’s it was apparent that Rodolphus was somewhat favored. His brother is one of the only people he cares about, save himself, Rabastan will always have his brother’s back first. However, like any younger sibling, also wants to be his own person and not live in the elder’s shadow. Being held in comparison to and hearing “Oh, Rodolphus’ little brother” one to many times supplied him a twinge of distaste. Struggling with that balance of family was a reoccurring theme in the back of his mind through out school; though in reality he thirsted for their approval. Legendary Slytherin ambition did not escape Rabastan. Those of pureblood were the pinnacle of the wizarding world, as such it wouldn’t do him any well in the eyes of his parents or society to establish low goals. Fought over Quidditch star, world renowned potion master, head of the Ministry; entering first year with the sorting hat perched on his head, Rabastan’s aim couldn’t have been higher. Rabastan preferred to be a gentleman and cause the most damage possible without the need to play with his food so to speak, a practiced front to the public eye. Words do so little when, as evident from his upbringing, actions do much more. Collected and focused, yes, but zero patience for those who wasted his time. Thus, when his temper was tested, he unleashed violence without warning disposing of the bother. Threats were an empty waste of energy.

These outbursts were a glimpse of Rabastan’s future. In a remarkably short time the driven, studious boy would become a memory. More then likely, Rabastan never consciously registered the change in himself. It was this ambitious desire to please his family and make a name for himself that drew him into the ranks of the greatest wizard of all time. In his final years of schooling, Voldemort’s vision of the world and ability to make it so was a shining opportunity to Rabastan. This man could make his desires reality. Training for Voldemort’s war became the prism through which his desires were magnified and focused. His final two years of school would see his grades crumble as well as his social structure. The only thing that would come to matter to Rabastan was “the cause”. The different facets of his personality would become invaluable to his leader and it is through service to Voldemort the brothers would again find common ground. When the rest of their peers would abandon their Lord, the almost unrecognizable Lestrange family would stand-fast one of the few truly loyal followers. Biding their time in Azkaban would only serve to unleash the entirety of his dormant personality in the long years of attempting to resurrect their Lord from behind bars. Insanity is after all, doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results.

 Para Sample: 

Sunk back in his seat behind a rotten smelling cauldron, Rabastan’s eyes smoldered as the fluff of his quill flicked repeatedly into his peripheral vision. To keep his want hand busy, he stiffly twirled the inked feather between his fingers. “Your brother never had such issues with his potions, dear boy.” Through the purplish-green haze that drifted above the still warm basin, Rabastan’s gaze could nearly burn a hole in the back of the The Slug’s head. Whatever the professor was going on about, was muted in Rabastan’s ears as he could already feel his pulse pounding in his temples matching the rhythm of his clenching jaw. Always his beloved brother, darling Rodolphus. The knot of his tie was barely fastened as though his own clothing knew to inch away when he got into a rage. Writing began to scrawl it’s way across the chalkboard at the front of the room as the pompous fool of a professor milled his way through the rest of the students. The lesson of the day changed into their homework for the evening, non-sense about an essay. It was ignored. Instead the agitated boy’s mind flashed back to holiday break, the day when his practice N.E.W.T. results had arrived.

Very few instances earned a proper audience with his father; official school correspondence was one of the few. When the Hogwarts owl had arrived, he was immediately summoned for the verdict. In his second to last year at school, studying was essential, for some forsaken reason his parents had insisted he take a prep examination for the upcoming years tests. For the life of him Rabastan couldn’t think of a bigger waste, exasperated he complied. Praise was never offered up in the Lestrange household, as such was not expected. However, as Rabastan stood rather rigid and uncomfortable in his father’s study, it was more then evident that these few minutes away from work were a chore. The parchment covered his father’s face and thus was unreadable. All was completely silent for a long minute before the letter and envelope were deftly dropped on the edge of the grand desk. “Expected.” Was all that was uttered before his father’s head dipped back down to whatever schematics were before him. Clearly dismissed, Rabastan could not hold back his curiosity and tentatively picked up the already forgotten parchment his father had dropped. A’s straight across, with a P dotted in for good measure but, all Rabastan saw was his brother’s gleaming O’s as though his mind superimposed them next to his scores just in case he had forgotten.