O auditório principal estava lotado de novos alunos, o som de conversas baixas e instrumentos afinando preenchendo o ambiente. No palco, os professores da Sonare estavam lado a lado formando uma fila sob luzes suaves, cada um se apresentando rapidamente após as palavras iniciais da direção. Por último, a Prof.ª Amara Singh, representando toda a equipe, avançou para o microfone. O auditório silenciou, e ela falou em nome de toda a staff.
❝ Bom dia a todos. Sejam bem-vindos à Sonare, é um prazer ver tantas caras novas por aqui!
Vocês passaram pelas seletivas, mostraram seu talento e conquistaram sua vaga. Agora começa a fase mais intensa: aulas, projetos, ensaios, workshops e, claro, a preparação para o ArtLab, que é o momento em que todo o trabalho de vocês ganha o palco.
A Sonare é uma escola feita para gente que respira música. Aqui vocês vão encontrar professores de várias partes do mundo, colegas com experiências e estilos diferentes, e oportunidades que não aparecem em nenhum outro lugar. Aproveitem.
Nos próximos seis meses vocês vão conviver muito uns com os outros nos estúdios, nas salas de ensaio, no campus. É nesse dia a dia que surgem colaborações, músicas e ideias que podem mudar sua carreira. Então se joguem, participem, perguntem, façam contatos.
A equipe da Sonare está aqui para apoiar vocês, mas lembrem-se: o crescimento acontece quando vocês também se comprometem. O palco é de vocês, nós só fornecemos as ferramentas.
Nosso desejo é que esse semestre seja intenso, criativo e cheio de descobertas para todos vocês. Então boa sorte, boas aulas e bem-vindos à Sonare. ❞
notas ooc:
oi, gente! veio aí nossa primeira task! a gente idealizou ela com o objetivo de permitir que antes do início das interações, cada char se conheça um pouquinho melhor. pra isso temos alguns apontamentos, vamos lá:
o que aconteceu em ic
todos os alunos foram reunidos no auditório para uma espécie de palestra de abertura das aulas. a direção deu uma palavra de boas-vindas, os professores se apresentaram brevemente, comentaram sobre suas disciplinas e o que esperar das aulas (os informativos foram enviados por e-mail para cada aluno).
depois, os alunos foram orientados a se sentarem em grupos para uma dinâmica rápida de apresentação, em que tiveram a oportunidade de compartilhar mais sobre si mesmos com seus colegas.
por fim, a direção apresentou as disciplinas eletivas disponíveis neste semestre. Cada aluno pode escolher de 1 a 3 eletivas, de acordo com os próprios interesses.
a task
nossa task introdutória em si consiste em três etapas simples:
apresentação do personagem: cada personagem precisa fazer uma apresentação rapidinha falando básico: nome, idade, estilo musical, gostos pessoais, essas coisas. o conteúdo do post pode ser do jeito que quiserem, no estilo que acharem mais legal. a ideia é que você imagine seu personagem se apresentando para os outros colegas durante essa palestra de abertura e escreva o que foi dito por ele em ic. você deverá fazer esse post no tópico 🎼﹕task one﹒new beginnings, lá no canal #🎼﹕sima﹒campus do nosso servidor.
escolha das eletivas: no mesmo post, coloquem também quais eletivas o personagem escolheu (de 1 a 3 eletivas). se quiserem, os chars podem contar o motivo dessas escolhas pra dar mais vida e profundidade, mas isso é opcional.
visualboard do dormitório: por último, monte um visual board que represente o dormitório do seu personagem. pode incluir mood, cores, decoração, objetos, referências, tudo o que ajude a dar uma cara única pro espaço dele. esse board pode ser feito com um post de imagens no bluesky ou numa pasta no pinterest. depois, compartilhe o board na timeline para compartilhar com todo mundo, e envie o link do post por dm para @sonaredaily, assim a gente consegue contabilizar os pontos.
prazo e pontuação
essa é uma task introdutória, então não tem prazo de expiração. usem o tempo que precisarem para construir algo legal.
apresentação + escolha das eletivas: 25 pontos
visual board do dormitório: 25 pontos
pontuação total: 50 pontos
qualquer dúvida, é só falar com a moderação. estamos super animados para ver o que vocês vão criar! ❤️
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My first favorite food is Steak Frites when I’m sorta feeling fancy. The first time I had it was at my 21st birthday dinner at a fancy restaurant. It was so yummy. I loved every bite of it. From the melt watering steak to the crispy fries. It’s my favorite meal to this day.
My second favorite food is a burger and fries. It can be any kind. It’s my go to comfort meal when I’m feeling down. I love the greasiness of it all. It soothes my soul when I’m having a bad day or it’s a cheat meal. Not that I diet often. I can even eat it for breakfast. Don’t knock it.
And my third fave food is cheesecake. Especially chocolate cheesecake. Instead of a regular birthday cake I prefer chocolate cheesecake. It’s so yummy. It doesn’t matter if it’s just chocolate or with extra stuff. I love it no matter what. Day or night. I will fight anyone for it. LOL kidding! It’s the best food ever even better than sex. (;
My least favorite food is BEETS. Ugh I hate them. Ever since I tried one as a child I detested them. I don’t care if they’re good for me. Like hard pass. Something about them just makes my skin crawl. You CAN NOT bribe me enough to eat them.
Potato salad is another food I can’t stand. Not because of the potatoes but the mayo. There’s too much. Just no. The actual reason is I ate so much as a child that as an adult it sickens me to even look at it. I don’t understand the fascination about it especially at cookouts. I rather eat pasta salad, it’s tastier in my opinion.
Last but certainly not least is Ambrosia Salad. Like wtf? I don’t even think it should be called a salad. It’s too weird tasting. The sweetness is yuck and unappealing. The fruit in it doesn’t mask the flavor either. Just a poor excuse for a fake salad or dessert. I don’t care for it at all.
Philippa's creative process begins long before the town stirs. Her days kick off at 4 AM with a dedicated session of inspiration-gathering. She immerses herself in the world of fashion, poring over magazines and watching streams to spark new ideas for her jewelry designs.
With a cup of coffee in hand and her hair neatly tied back, Philippa transitions from observer to creator. Dressed comfortably, she heads to her drawing board, translating her morning's inspiration into tangible sketches of necklaces, earrings, rings, or other intricate jewelry pieces. This focused design period lasts until 9 AM, when her shop officially opens.
Upon opening her shop, Philippa moves to the workbench at the back. Here, she meticulously crafts the jewelry she's designed. The rhythmic sounds of creation are occasionally interrupted by a rather loud buzzer, signaling the arrival of a customer.
Neo and his daughter live in a small NYC two bedroom apartment
Neo took the smaller bedroom of the two, filling it with a rack for his clothes, a full-sized bed, and nothing more. It is a bit tight at night when Francesca comes in and asks to sleep with her dad.
Francesca has the larger room and it is a lot more done than Neo's. With the help of his mom, he made sure his little girl got the room she deserved after sharing it with him for two years. She has plenty of space for her toys and to play.
The rest of the apartment follows Neo's minimalist lack of taste. Anything picked that looks semi-decent was done by his mom when he finally saved enough to move.
aesthetic: bruised knuckles, a hearty laugh, the ever-rising tide, all-consuming grief and the head of a poured pint, the snapshot of a frozen memory.
MAGIC
blood status: pureblood
wand: Laurel wood with a unicorn hair core, 14 ¼ and rigid flexibility
boggart: his father
patronus & anamagi - swan, n/a
house - slytherin
job - real estate
affiliation: death eaters
BIOGRAPHY:
In a grand old state with weathered dark stone and thin green ivies stood the evergreen Parkinson estate, located outside Somerset. Malcolm was the sole heir born to a quiet yet powerful and prestigious family. The Parkinson family was a popular family that seemed pristine and perfect to the core. Their name was just as telling as they handled the land that most wizarding families had established housing on. Malcom’s father was a well-respected businessman and tax collector for estates, knowing who the best families were and which ones to avoid. Mostly because of their impediment to offer his father money. At a young age, Malcolm was being taught to listen and smile pleasantly. There had been many meetings he observed and lessons he remembered about the importance of value. It was not a secret about his father’s involvement with deception when handling money and Malcolm watched a stern man fall to the mercy of gambling. Prejudice was not an earned trait, but for Malcolm, it was a despising term used when his mother had an affair with a muggleborn. It was quick work cutting ties from her and Malcolm’s father, ingrained in him to revere Pureblood ancestry and disdain those who were Muggleborns or nonmagical folk. As he grew up, Malcolm became a more entitled, ignorant, hot-tempered young boy. Though his relationship with his mother had been destroyed due in part to a muggle, Malcolm wasn’t close with his father either. He might have been ignorant, but he wasn’t blind to see his father was cold and devious at best. It was when Malcolm was eleven, he was sent to Hogwarts, the family name following him, his greatest ambition was to become a man who his father could be proud of. Even if he scored high marks on exams, it never seemed to amount to his father’s expectations. He was always two steps behind and the rage only fueled him more to determine his worth.
Though he didn’t get the recognition from his father that he wanted, found it in his schoolmates specifically the ones who he shared the dorm with for seven years. Holidays were full to the brim of bitterness when he shared it with his father. Around his time at Hogwarts, he dated Serra Borgin, a fellow Slytherin who was also close with his family. There had been many times it felt like their families had tried setting them up, but eventually, they got together on their own terms. For once, everything seemed right. But then, it all came crumbling down when his father was exposed as a fraudulent man, embezzling money as if it were common money. When the Aurors found him out, Malcolm exploded with rage and grief, swearing to protect the rest of the family’s name and not let it be more fractured. It all had reached a boiling point and his father was disgraced and carted off to a cell he presumed. The Parkinson family name was stale, but Malcolm planned to change everything. The tides were sure to shift and change direction, picking up the shattered pieces of a once collected and strong family name. Malcolm continued his last year at Hogwarts with the newfound reputation following him. It was also during his last year that he came across a contract that was arranged before his father's incarceration that pledged Malcolm and Serra to already be engaged. Now that he was the head of the family and the company, he arranged lawyers to look it over and annul it immediately. The news was shocking to Malcolm and he assumed it would be too much for Serra. Instead of doing the right thing and telling his girlfriend, he needed them to break up and the only solution that came to his mind was sabotaging it himself by having an affair with Charity Burbage.
When it came time for Malcolm to overhear another Dark Lord, it was in his honor and belief to harbor the identity of being a follower. Malcolm stepped forward into the role eagerly and submitted himself to the Dark Lord. He wanted to be seen as someone important in the eyes of Lord Voldemort. At least someone of value could consider Malcolm as someone worth listening to. He fully intended not disgrace his family name. To recover the extreme circumstances his mother and father brought onto the name, Malcolm began resurrecting the house, putting more house elves to maintain the house and hiring a handful of mannered to handle the finances. Once he had calculated everything to its fullest, Malcolm began intervening more directly with other Death Eaters, offering services to other members. On the surface, Malcolm was beginning to look like the carbon copy of his father only he was more thorough in who he trusted and his accounting with the goblins at Gringotts. Now, Malcolm must attend Death Eater meetings and help with strategic plans. Though Malcom despises many of the people in the room, he is not naive in forcing himself to silently refer to them as allies. Every word and movement is precious to him and he will pursue..
RELATIONSHIPS:
Serra Borgin: exes, bethrothed
Agatha Bulstrode: family friend
Charity Burbage: friends with benefits
Nick Mulciber, Caellum Greengrass, Emir Selwyn: friends
Evan Rosier: business partner
Estelle Fawley: cousin
Ted Tonks: part of the Auror team who arrested his father
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Welcome to our community! We're thrilled to have you join us. As part of your INTRODUCTION, we kindly ask you to create a pinned post to share more about your muse with everyone here. This will make it easier for us to connect and get to know you better. This little task will also include wanted connections and wanted plots to make plotting easier.
Paste the below information and fill it out for every muse.
[ paste the application form ]
// 001 // write a short (bullet point) description of your character
// 002 // write a list of a minimum of 5 wanted connections ( make sure to update this as you plot )
// 003 // write a list of a minimum of 5 wanted plots ( make sure to update this as you plot )
// 004 // write a short biography of your character ( preferably less than 400 words, you can link the full biography here as well if you’d like )
The lost child always finds their way back home.
THE WHARF, KITLEY VILLAGE: §20.000 MONTHLY
A hope to find his family after so many years had passed brought Conrad back to the place that had seen him grow up — a place he had once called home. His expectations and hopes were crushed within the very first few days, the encounter he longed for did not happen, he was too late, his past home not empty, but already rented to another family. Nothing looked the same.
That only meant his encounter with his family had to be delayed, not forgotten, he would not give up. So, with that in mind, he decided to stay, and after so many years spent moving around, sleeping on the couches of some friends, in cheap lodgings, in abandoned garages and in the worst of days tucked under a blanket and against the outside of a random building, he could finally not only afford getting a place of his own, but he also wanted to put down some roots and bring some balance to his own life.
His place is a mirror that reflects his personality, habits and fears – a gun taped under the sink, a pot of coffee on the counter, money under his mattress, an already used first aid kit in the bathroom, an opened tool box on the floor of the living room and a bed that is rarely made, he leaves in a rush in the mornings but always comes back to his safe place at the end of the day, keeping it not necessarily tidy, but definitely comfortable. Or at least, comfortable enough that some companions feel bold enough to invite themselves and spend the day there — more often than not, Conrad forgets the window open, the one close to the emergency exit and without fail comes home to find stray cats enjoying his furniture, sleeping on his bed and even napping on top of his towels in the bathroom, he doesn't mind them and lets them stay, they are often regulars and he already knows them and suspects a few even belong to his neighbors. They help him not feel as alone as he tends to feel on late nights.
It isn't much but it's home, his peace and he will do anything to keep it, no one is taking that away from him a second time.
ㅤㅤㅤSaija mantinha as pernas cruzadas e a postura impecavelmente ereta enquanto esperava ser chamada para a sala de interrogatório. Reconhecia, obviamente, a gravidade do incêndio e o simbolismo do roubo do cálice para o reino, mas simplesmente não via sentido em ter sido convocada. Toda sua família, além de pelo menos dez empregados, poderiam confirmar seu paradeiro no momento do incidente. E quanto ao motivo? Qual razão plausível ela teria para destruir a academia militar? Sim, havia a constante tensão entre changelings e khajols, no entanto, para Saija, era totalmente irrelevante. Cada um tinha sua função no intrincado sistema que sustentava o reino, e ela estava muito ocupada para se importar com uma rivalidade que, em sua visão, não a afetava diretamente.
ㅤㅤㅤCom um suspiro inquieto, Saija descruzou as pernas e as trocou de posição, a impaciência crescendo dentro dela. Que demora!, pensou, os dedos tamborilando levemente no braço da cadeira. Sua distração foi interrompida por uma voz masculina. “Senhorita…” Seu rosto virou na direção da voz. “Saija,” respondeu de imediato, erguendo-se com elegância calculada. Não carregava mais o sobrenome da mãe, e muito menos gostava de ouvir o nome do falecido marido associado a ela. “A senhorita pode me acompanhar?” Com um breve aceno de concordância, seguiu o homem até a porta que ele apontara. Assim que cruzou o limiar, seus olhos percorreram o ambiente e um leve franzir de nariz escapou. Não esperava luxo em um lugar como aquele, mas também não imaginava sentir-se tão nitidamente como uma suspeita. A contragosto, ela se acomodou na cadeira em frente ao interrogador. Seus olhos imediatamente se fixaram no rosto dele — arredondado, quase comum, mas com uma expressão que parecia medir cada centímetro dela. Saija, por sua vez, manteve o queixo erguido e o olhar firme, determinada a não deixar transparecer qualquer traço de desconforto.
Onde você estava no momento em que o incêndio começou?
ㅤㅤㅤAo ouvir a primeira pergunta, ela sentiu a agitação de Týr no fundo de sua mente e precisou se conter para não dar uma resposta sarcástica. Aparentemente, o deus estava tão indignado quanto ela por ela ser tratada daquela forma. “Eu não sei o horário que o incêndio começou, mas passei toda a noite na casa da minha mãe, jantando e fazendo meus afazeres diários. Pelo menos quinze pessoas podem confirmar.”
Você notou algo incomum ou fora do lugar antes do incêndio, seja no comportamento de outras pessoas ou no castelo de Wülfhere?
ㅤㅤㅤSaija franziu a testa, lutando para encontrar algum sentido na pergunta que acabara de ouvir. O interrogatório em si era compreensível, dadas as circunstâncias, mas ela esperava algo minimamente condizente. Respirando fundo, escolheu suas palavras com cuidado. “Perdão, senhor, mas temo não saber como responder a essa pergunta. Estudo na academia dirigida por minha mãe, Hexwood, que, como o senhor deve saber, fica consideravelmente distante da academia militar.” Sua voz soou clara e controlada. O interrogador estreitou os olhos, lançando-lhe um olhar torto, provavelmente esperando alguma hesitação ou contradição. Mas Saija se manteve impassível, a postura tão ereta quanto sua determinação. Não era o tipo de mulher que se deixava intimidar por olhares zangados ou tentativas de pressão.
Você notou algum dos dragões agindo estranho no dia do incêndio?
ㅤㅤㅤTýr parecia inquieto, sua presença em sua mente pulsando com uma energia nervosa, enquanto Saija, por outro lado, lutava contra a vontade de rir. Aquela pergunta era para ser levada a sério? “Bom, não sei,” começou, um sorriso irônico brincando em seus lábios, “mas posso garantir que o que mantenho no meu jardim estava perfeitamente calmo.” Ela soltou um riso abafado e revirou os olhos, já imaginando a reprovação que sua mãe expressaria ao ouvir sobre sua resposta. Endireitando-se um pouco, completou com um tom mais direto: “Eu não tenho a menor ideia. Nunca tive qualquer contato com dragões.” Sua voz soava firme, mas o sarcasmo sutil era inegável, uma marca de sua personalidade que parecia se manifestar ainda mais quando estava sob pressão.
Você teve algum sonho ou pressentimento estranho antes de saber do incêndio?
ㅤㅤㅤ“Bom,” respondeu, um pouco pensativa “acho que nada que pudesse ter referência com o incêndio.” Havia tido alguns sonhos diferentes na semana em questão, mas nenhum deles parecia minimamente ligado ao incêndio e sim a situação que ela vivenciava com deuses em sua cabeça. Ela viu o cenho do interrogador se franzir levemente, no entanto, ele não perguntou mais nada sobre.
Você acha que o incêndio foi realmente um acidente, ou acredita que pode ter sido provocado por alguém? Quem se beneficiaria disso?
ㅤㅤㅤ“Isso se enquadra na categoria de perguntas que eu acredito não caber a mim responder,” disse de forma sincera, por mais que houvesse achado a pergunta absurda. “Mas se tratando de uma academia militar, acredito que as mesmas pessoas que possam ter provocado são as beneficiadas com o incêndio, então…” Ela ergueu os ombros, como se o final de sua fala fosse algo que eles pudessem deduzir por si próprios.
Na sua opinião, quem estaria mais interessado no desaparecimento do Cálice dos Sonhos e na interrupção do acesso ao Sonhār?
ㅤㅤㅤ“Essa é mais uma das perguntas que eu não me vejo suficientemente qualificada para responder,” disse no tom mais respeitoso que pôde. “O Império certamente possui inimigos, e certamente não cabe a mim nomeá-los quando existem pessoas muito mais qualificadas do que eu para fazê-lo.” Ela suspirou, visivelmente descontente de ainda estar ali. “Não quero ser desrespeitosa, mas eu já posso ir? Não gosto de espaços fechados assim,” argumentou. A verdade é que Týr parecia cada vez mais próximo de assumir o controle de suas ações, mas ela não queria ter que explicar mais aquilo ao desconhecido. Quando o mesmo assentiu, Saija se levantou e saiu da sala o mais rápido que pôde.