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 [S]Brooks Wolfred
Brooks Wolfred
Wee Beastie
Status Offline
Post Count 3
Member ID. 2938
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Age 16
Year 6th
Clash 🇺🇸
Height 5'10"
Joined8-March 18
ReputationRep: 1 pts
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Mar 9 2018, 04:44 PM   Link Quote
Name: Brooks Bradley Wolfred
Age: 16
Year: 6th
Bloodline: Pureblood
Do you have more than one character? If yes, did you get permission to make this one, and from which admin?: Just him for now!
Appearance: Brooks looks like a Brooks. He has reddish brown hair and pale blue eyes, a pallid complexion, and a lean build. He dresses formally wherever he goes, as if he’s expecting there to be a spontaneous country club meeting at any given moment.

    There are only two types of people who give their child a name like Brooks Bradley: preps and sadists. In the case of the Wolfreds, they were most probably both. Brooks’ parents are two proud, pureblooded former Horned Serpents, and really, what more could you need to know? Like his parents, Brooks was blessed with a naturally powerful intellect, a hunger for learning, and a love of books. But unlike his parents, living life in black and white has never been enough for him.

    Brooks is smart in the way that all book smart people are smart. He deals in facts, in cold and unforgiving logic. Sciences and maths are right in his wheelhouse as there’s always a right answer and a wrong answer, which he’s found is rarely the case in real life. Most of the time, he prefers to live in the pages of books than reality anyway. A book, whether it’s a textbook or a novel, is much more linear and structured. The characters’ intentions are spelled out and if things ever get too stressful? He can simply read ahead and find out what’s going to happen. Books make sense and, more importantly, they’re much more interesting than real flesh and blood people.

    Naturally, Brooks is incredibly invested in his grades, maybe even more than his parents were in their heyday. He loves learning, the thrill that absorbing new knowledge gives him. At least that’s his cover story. In truth, he loves being good at something and the attention even more. He always sits at the front of every class, always raises his hand to answer questions, always makes eye contact with professors. He wants to make sure that his face is never forgotten, as if it ever could be. At Ilvermorny, his classmates called him Brooks Buttkiss because that’s what he is.

    What he isn’t is someone who most people would approach easily. There’s something frosty about his whole demeanor, like his Italian suits aren’t the only thing that’s buttoned up to the neck. He can usually be found alone, his face buried in a book or his hand furiously scribing, and that’s how he prefers it. If that’s not clear enough from his sharp glances and pointed eyebrow raises, which make up about 90% of his communication, Brooks will have no problem cutting someone down with words instead. Sarcasm is his great love in life and he wields it frequently. Cantankerous is a good mood for him. It’s when he’s nice and complimentary to anyone but a professor that people should be concerned, because more than likely, he’s making fun of them.

    The dark(er) side to Brooks’ nature is that because he prioritizes grades so highly, those numbers and letters ultimately mean more to him than the actual knowledge he’s supposed to be attaining. In layman’s terms: he’s not opposed to cheating. In fact, he has cheated and cheating was why he was forced to abandon Ilvermorny and his dream of becoming the president of MACUSA someday. Ambition, his ability to push ruthlessly forward in pursuit of whatever he’s set his sights on, has always been one of Brooks’ defining characteristics, but at Hogwarts he’s found himself suddenly and shockingly bereft. He’s sure that it’s just a small hiccup. He’ll find his footing in this strange new world and do something even better, because he’s meant for greatness.

    If that sounds like something a spoiled rich kid has been told since conception, it’s not in his case. His parents and other fundamental figures in his upbringing always told Brooks that he would never be good enough, that he would never live up to expectations, that he would always be a burden. He’s been fighting against that with every fiber of his being ever since. Maybe along the way he’s become a little too hard, unable to accept weakness in himself or others. Especially himself. Maybe he sees people with good looks and charisma and is sick with envy. Maybe that’s why he’s so angry. Or maybe it’s because every night before bed, loneliness grips him like a vice.
Character Background:
    Brooks’ earliest memory is from when he was five years old. He and Boyd, his older brother, had slipped away from their nanny to explore the pond near Wolfred Manor. They were balancing on logs, skipping stones across the surface of the water like the muggles did. Boyd’s arms were always stronger than his. Airy, boyish laughter filled the space until it was replaced by a loud pop. Boyd lost his footing on the log he was skipping across, hit his head, and tumbled into the late-winter water. Unconscious, he began sinking to the bottom. Brooks, who had only just started swimming lessons, didn’t have time to think before treading into the water after him.

    A few hours later, he was still damp as he lingered in the hallway outside of his brother’s room, watching the healers fuss over his pale, still form. He wasn’t dead, but his brain had been without oxygen for long enough that they were worried he’d never wake up. His brain, that precious organ that made Boyd Boyd, could be damaged beyond repair. Their mother stood up from Boyd’s bedside, tears creating a trail in the makeup on her cheeks. Brooks had never seen her cry before. She came over to him and for a moment, one wonderful moment, he thought that she was going to hug him and tell him everything would be okay. Instead, her hand came up and whipped him across the face, her long nails leaving little crescent moons in his cheek.

    “You,” she spat at him. “This is your fault.” While Brooks was still clutching his face in shock, the heavy door was slammed in his face. That was it, the moment everything changed. At least that was his perception of it. Maybe his parents had never really loved him. Maybe he had always been the disappointing second son, the middle child. Muggles called what happened to Boyd a traumatic brain injury, and he was never the same again. He would never be able to talk again, would never go to Ilvermorny, would never find out if he was a Horned Serpent like every other Wolfred, would never get married and have a family of his own. Boyd was a living vegetable and it was all Brooks’ fault for having insisted on going to the pond on that fateful, tragic day.

    It was a fragile childhood after that, knowing that his parents hated him but still being desperate to change their minds. He became very protective over his younger sister, Blair, but was never allowed to spend much time with her alone because of his parents’ fear that history would repeat itself. When it came time for Brooks himself to go off to school he was sorted into Horned Serpent, but that didn’t do much to earn him favors. By the end of that year, however, he had learned the trick. Whenever he brought home exceptional grades or good comments from professors, his parents softened a little. It was never much, but he was starved and would take it.

    Brooks had always been an introverted and bookish child, and at Ilvermorny he took advantage of those qualities to become a star student. Though his parents never cared, his professors at school always did. He was the ideal pupil: eager, attentive, naturally bright. They fawned over him, praised him, told him how he was destined for great things. Hearing that became like a drug over the years, one that he got increasingly addicted to. However, like all addictions, it could only go so far before he crashed. In his sixth year, he overloaded his schedule with classes. By the end of term he couldn’t breathe anymore, let alone keep up. He completely forgot about a History of Magic paper until the night before it was due. What else was he supposed to do?

    He bought a paper from one of the hoodlum Thunderbirds and turned it in. It wasn’t the first time he had cheated, because really, what was cheating but alternative knowledge? He was smart, everyone said so. He didn’t need tests to prove it. But it would be the last time he cheated at Ilvermorny as unfortunately the same paper was handed in by another student. He was called to the Dean’s office one afternoon and found his parents there, for the first time in six years, wearing the same disgusted expression they had the night Boyd was hurt. He was being expelled for at least a year, and even if they decided to let him back after that, there would be sanctions.

    His parents’ worst suspicions about him had been confirmed. He was nothing but a fraud and a pretender, not worthy of the Wolfred name. They didn’t even want him in their sights, so a week later Brooks was shipped off to England to live with his maternal grandmother. She was as cold towards him as his parents had always been, but managed to pull some strings to get Brooks into the next term at Hogwarts. Life, it seemed, would have to go on. Somehow.
The Sorting Hat is placed on your head. What are you thinking at that moment?: What is this ratty old thing? Just get this over with so I can get it off of me.

Special Request (available at Novice**) Tbd

OOC Name: Ely
Your Pronouns: She/her 
How did you find out about Wizarding Realm? Google, I think? xD
Gretchen Kirke-Faust
you come by it honestly, the ugliness inside you
Status Offline
Post Count 1464
Member ID. 1696
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Age 15
Year 5th
Clash Viridian Guild Leader
Height 5'
Joined25-March 16
ReputationRep: 56 pts
Awards: 86

Mar 9 2018, 04:58 PM   Link Quote
the sorting hat is placed on your head, and after a few moments, it loudly calls out ...


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