Post by Blix on Mar 16, 2007 17:42:41 GMT -5
OOC Name/Alias: Blix
Character's Name: Professor Charley Brighty
Age; Grade; Occupation: 23; Professor of Applied Music - I saw Music Theory was already taken but that's the hard work behind the playing, I figured they would need someone to teach them to play the instruments as well as do performances, bands etc. If that's not alright I can figure something else out for him.
Lockwood or St. Logans: Lockwood
Why you've come to Springbrook's: His job was moved so he went with it.
Role-play Sample:
Children. Children were an unfortunate and entirely unwelcome addition to any educational institution, on the grounds that the place would be generally much neater, less hectic, require less paperwork and be altogether far better organised without them. Children just caused problems, it was far easier teaching a class full of empty seats because they didn’t talk back and they didn’t try to steal the weapons off the wall or hit each other over the head with the wooden practise swords. The only time the place filled with students was alright was around about one in the morning to about four in the morning where they were all asleep or in fact during summer when they all left for six weeks (which probably didn’t count as having the place filled with students because they’d gone away). Unfortunately they would come back six weeks later filled with vim, vigour and sugar and there were at least another few hundred names to memorise and the same to forget. It was hard to imagine that someone with this attitude to students and education would ever end up being a teacher, it hardly seemed to be the temperament or the right attitude to the whole thing from the beginning. But that was what made Tiberius Dragos such a strange choice for the job, he had never taught before this opportunity and if people could read the inner dialogue inside his head they’d be quite sure their children wouldn’t be safe around him. But what people said and what they thought and then did were all very different things. You might not like someone, you might have loved to kick them down the stairs but you said polite things to them and that was how it went, just because you thought something did not necessarily mean you would act upon it. It was merely a thought, a wild moments idea. However there must have been something positive going for him or he would never have got the job.
Excluding the fact that he was without a doubt the best in his field, he was probably not the first choice to teach young people the art of weaponry and defence unless the Founders of Hogwarts had been planning on rooting the sheer fear of the devil into their students for Tiberius was rather cold, unforgiving and seemed to lack in the realms of a sense of humour that people would understand. Yes there had probably been far better choices of jolly fat rich men who enjoyed a spot of fencing on the side here and there and could have taught the students to an acceptable level how to play at fighting. But it seemed this school was after more than just some acceptable level that they could pass of as being excellent and wouldn’t work in the real world, so they had thankfully overlooked his rather standoffish presence and frightening figure on the simple fact that he would teach the students beyond what anyone else could. And there was also the chance that with weaponry being such a dangerous subject to teach they were after someone who would be able to keep a class in line and in control. In which case Tiberius was a perfect choice. To begin with he had not exactly applied for the job, although his name it seemed had been dropped or hinted at by someone else for the job and he was suddenly being approached by interested people with lots of ideas, it all came to a head when his sister accepted for him before pushing him out of the door and telling him it would do him good to be amongst children. His sister it could be said was the exact opposite to Tiberius, he had very much taken after his mother, a cold woman who did not seem to like children all that much, his sister Adora had taken after his father who adored children and was a good-humoured man. They were both gone now and his sister had married off and left, leaving the rather large Dragos mansion on the outskirts of London entirely to Tiberius who had made it even colder and draftier on general principles that it should be like that anyway. He hadn’t minded much until he had found his sister had accepted a job for him. A part of him found itself rather disappointed that he would not be allowed to become a social outcast and grumpy old hermit for the rest of his days, but another part (the quiet part of Tiberius that did actually feel things and nobody else knew existed) had been secretly excited at being able to teach young people of today how to master weapons so they too would never be caught out by the thieves and gangs of the street like he had.
Today was a day he was holding in about the same regard as the day he was attacked, with a dull leaden dread that would foretell the arrival of the dreaded species named ‘Students’. It wasn’t that he was a particularly unsociable man, he could hold a conversation without making it awkward and he did not mind talking, but he would much prefer to be left to his own devices, having a class full of students would prove to be an interesting experience. Especially when it finally got around to the first day of letting them touch the actual weapons. He hadn’t forgotten that he too had been their age once, and he knew exactly how much trouble he’d been, all he needed was one of them to be like he had been and he would have his hands full, combine that with encouragement from friends and it could be a disaster. But first things first, he had to survive the feast. Which they would apparently have every year to indicate the opening of the school again for the next year, where students would be ‘sorted’ into one of the four houses that suited them best. He, along with the rest of the faculty would have to sit at the tables at the head of the Great Hall, with the founders seated centrally. Tiberius had the feeling he would be the one sat there scowling at the students waiting for them to do something he could catch them up on later. It wasn’t that he wanted them to misbehave, quite the contrary, he wanted one of them to misbehave, be made an example of and then the rest wouldn’t do it again It would be an education for them on the correct behaviour.
Tiberius Dragos had no need to go and get changed into something more fancy or neater and tidier for the feast though, he was one of those men that when told to just be casual would come looking the same as always, but maybe he’d go wild and leave the top button of his shirt undone, then halfway through the day get annoyed and do it up anyway. He simply didn’t do casual, so at every moment he was dressed head to foot in black, putting one in mind of an Undertaker. He would however have looked more like an undertaker if he was old and slightly stooped. In actual fact his posture was perfectly drilled into him. His back was straight, his shoulders back, head up and never looking down at the floor. Quite often, as he would walk, his hands would not swing at his sides but clasp themselves behind his back allowing him to stroll in a manner only befitting the particularly well off, who could afford to stare down their noses at anyone shorter then themselves or who didn’t look as good as they did. Another thing lacking in the undertaker look was him personally, no self respecting Undertaker would look that daunting by choice. Tiberius had been the unfortunate victim of an attack when he had been eighteen, perhaps the only time in his life that he had ever stood up for someone other than himself, simply because he’d wanted to know if he would get that warm fuzzy feeling of doing something worthwhile inside as his sister often proclaimed she felt when she did something good. So having seen a gang attacking some young woman on the street he had stepped in, and he had been outnumbered, over powered and entirely beaten to within an inch of his life. It had certainly changed him, he had come out of unconsciousness a completely different man. He had lost an eye and vowed that he would never be caught out again in his life, he was not to be a victim of others. He had become a very dark young man in a very short space of time, so he had demanded to have his eye replaced with not a white glass eye that would mimic his remaining one, but rather a sphere of black. It now gave him a forbidding appearance, this was offset perfectly by his rather boyish looking hair which was a light golden blonde in sweeping curls about his head. He had pale skin and a slightly childish sort of face that never really seemed to change into any sort of recognisable expression. Altogether, and coupled with the strange black eye just for added effect, Tiberius looked rather foreboding, it was exactly the look he desired.
Dressed head to foot in black, shirt, stocktie, waistcoat, three-quarter-length fitted jacket, trousers and long boots he was already smartly enough dressed for the feast. So exiting his neat and tidy office he locked the door behind him with a solid key and a spell and tucking his dark coloured wand inside his jacket he strolled off down the corridor. He had no steps to ascend or descend as his own classroom and office were on the same floor as the Great Hall, not so far away from it which he found unfortunate as it meant that during breaks the corridors around his office would be swarming with students and he would have to make sure both his office and classroom were extremely well locked to prevent any unfortunate accidents. It wasn’t long until the Great Hall was before him. Tiberius was the sort to arrive dead on time and not a moment after or before, he seemed to believe that being prompt was akin to having good manners, it was just what one did. So arriving perfectly on time he strolled into the Great Hall, still devoid of student life as they would no doubt only just be getting into the boats or some such other way of arriving here, Tiberius walked down the length of the Great Hall, noting that four were already seated, two he recognised and two he did not, although one of them was making a very good attempt on getting all the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. He recognised Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw, but the other two faces were unfamiliar to him, this did not however put him off in the slightest. It also might be noted that he didn’t seem to notice or admire the decorations, they were of course simply decorations and would only cause further excitement in the young students who probably did not need further encouragement. Eventually he reached the far end of the Great Hall.
“Good evening.” He said in a pleasant enough voice, not quite one that people would match with what he looked like however but it was polite enough and was matched with a slight inclination of his head towards them. “I trust you are all well?” It was a strange tone of voice that seemed to have a hidden version of what he was really saying beneath it, in this case he meant ‘I trust you are all aware of the amount of chaos that will ensue when the brats arrive and are well prepared for it?’.
Character's Name: Professor Charley Brighty
Age; Grade; Occupation: 23; Professor of Applied Music - I saw Music Theory was already taken but that's the hard work behind the playing, I figured they would need someone to teach them to play the instruments as well as do performances, bands etc. If that's not alright I can figure something else out for him.
Lockwood or St. Logans: Lockwood
Why you've come to Springbrook's: His job was moved so he went with it.
Role-play Sample:
Children. Children were an unfortunate and entirely unwelcome addition to any educational institution, on the grounds that the place would be generally much neater, less hectic, require less paperwork and be altogether far better organised without them. Children just caused problems, it was far easier teaching a class full of empty seats because they didn’t talk back and they didn’t try to steal the weapons off the wall or hit each other over the head with the wooden practise swords. The only time the place filled with students was alright was around about one in the morning to about four in the morning where they were all asleep or in fact during summer when they all left for six weeks (which probably didn’t count as having the place filled with students because they’d gone away). Unfortunately they would come back six weeks later filled with vim, vigour and sugar and there were at least another few hundred names to memorise and the same to forget. It was hard to imagine that someone with this attitude to students and education would ever end up being a teacher, it hardly seemed to be the temperament or the right attitude to the whole thing from the beginning. But that was what made Tiberius Dragos such a strange choice for the job, he had never taught before this opportunity and if people could read the inner dialogue inside his head they’d be quite sure their children wouldn’t be safe around him. But what people said and what they thought and then did were all very different things. You might not like someone, you might have loved to kick them down the stairs but you said polite things to them and that was how it went, just because you thought something did not necessarily mean you would act upon it. It was merely a thought, a wild moments idea. However there must have been something positive going for him or he would never have got the job.
Excluding the fact that he was without a doubt the best in his field, he was probably not the first choice to teach young people the art of weaponry and defence unless the Founders of Hogwarts had been planning on rooting the sheer fear of the devil into their students for Tiberius was rather cold, unforgiving and seemed to lack in the realms of a sense of humour that people would understand. Yes there had probably been far better choices of jolly fat rich men who enjoyed a spot of fencing on the side here and there and could have taught the students to an acceptable level how to play at fighting. But it seemed this school was after more than just some acceptable level that they could pass of as being excellent and wouldn’t work in the real world, so they had thankfully overlooked his rather standoffish presence and frightening figure on the simple fact that he would teach the students beyond what anyone else could. And there was also the chance that with weaponry being such a dangerous subject to teach they were after someone who would be able to keep a class in line and in control. In which case Tiberius was a perfect choice. To begin with he had not exactly applied for the job, although his name it seemed had been dropped or hinted at by someone else for the job and he was suddenly being approached by interested people with lots of ideas, it all came to a head when his sister accepted for him before pushing him out of the door and telling him it would do him good to be amongst children. His sister it could be said was the exact opposite to Tiberius, he had very much taken after his mother, a cold woman who did not seem to like children all that much, his sister Adora had taken after his father who adored children and was a good-humoured man. They were both gone now and his sister had married off and left, leaving the rather large Dragos mansion on the outskirts of London entirely to Tiberius who had made it even colder and draftier on general principles that it should be like that anyway. He hadn’t minded much until he had found his sister had accepted a job for him. A part of him found itself rather disappointed that he would not be allowed to become a social outcast and grumpy old hermit for the rest of his days, but another part (the quiet part of Tiberius that did actually feel things and nobody else knew existed) had been secretly excited at being able to teach young people of today how to master weapons so they too would never be caught out by the thieves and gangs of the street like he had.
Today was a day he was holding in about the same regard as the day he was attacked, with a dull leaden dread that would foretell the arrival of the dreaded species named ‘Students’. It wasn’t that he was a particularly unsociable man, he could hold a conversation without making it awkward and he did not mind talking, but he would much prefer to be left to his own devices, having a class full of students would prove to be an interesting experience. Especially when it finally got around to the first day of letting them touch the actual weapons. He hadn’t forgotten that he too had been their age once, and he knew exactly how much trouble he’d been, all he needed was one of them to be like he had been and he would have his hands full, combine that with encouragement from friends and it could be a disaster. But first things first, he had to survive the feast. Which they would apparently have every year to indicate the opening of the school again for the next year, where students would be ‘sorted’ into one of the four houses that suited them best. He, along with the rest of the faculty would have to sit at the tables at the head of the Great Hall, with the founders seated centrally. Tiberius had the feeling he would be the one sat there scowling at the students waiting for them to do something he could catch them up on later. It wasn’t that he wanted them to misbehave, quite the contrary, he wanted one of them to misbehave, be made an example of and then the rest wouldn’t do it again It would be an education for them on the correct behaviour.
Tiberius Dragos had no need to go and get changed into something more fancy or neater and tidier for the feast though, he was one of those men that when told to just be casual would come looking the same as always, but maybe he’d go wild and leave the top button of his shirt undone, then halfway through the day get annoyed and do it up anyway. He simply didn’t do casual, so at every moment he was dressed head to foot in black, putting one in mind of an Undertaker. He would however have looked more like an undertaker if he was old and slightly stooped. In actual fact his posture was perfectly drilled into him. His back was straight, his shoulders back, head up and never looking down at the floor. Quite often, as he would walk, his hands would not swing at his sides but clasp themselves behind his back allowing him to stroll in a manner only befitting the particularly well off, who could afford to stare down their noses at anyone shorter then themselves or who didn’t look as good as they did. Another thing lacking in the undertaker look was him personally, no self respecting Undertaker would look that daunting by choice. Tiberius had been the unfortunate victim of an attack when he had been eighteen, perhaps the only time in his life that he had ever stood up for someone other than himself, simply because he’d wanted to know if he would get that warm fuzzy feeling of doing something worthwhile inside as his sister often proclaimed she felt when she did something good. So having seen a gang attacking some young woman on the street he had stepped in, and he had been outnumbered, over powered and entirely beaten to within an inch of his life. It had certainly changed him, he had come out of unconsciousness a completely different man. He had lost an eye and vowed that he would never be caught out again in his life, he was not to be a victim of others. He had become a very dark young man in a very short space of time, so he had demanded to have his eye replaced with not a white glass eye that would mimic his remaining one, but rather a sphere of black. It now gave him a forbidding appearance, this was offset perfectly by his rather boyish looking hair which was a light golden blonde in sweeping curls about his head. He had pale skin and a slightly childish sort of face that never really seemed to change into any sort of recognisable expression. Altogether, and coupled with the strange black eye just for added effect, Tiberius looked rather foreboding, it was exactly the look he desired.
Dressed head to foot in black, shirt, stocktie, waistcoat, three-quarter-length fitted jacket, trousers and long boots he was already smartly enough dressed for the feast. So exiting his neat and tidy office he locked the door behind him with a solid key and a spell and tucking his dark coloured wand inside his jacket he strolled off down the corridor. He had no steps to ascend or descend as his own classroom and office were on the same floor as the Great Hall, not so far away from it which he found unfortunate as it meant that during breaks the corridors around his office would be swarming with students and he would have to make sure both his office and classroom were extremely well locked to prevent any unfortunate accidents. It wasn’t long until the Great Hall was before him. Tiberius was the sort to arrive dead on time and not a moment after or before, he seemed to believe that being prompt was akin to having good manners, it was just what one did. So arriving perfectly on time he strolled into the Great Hall, still devoid of student life as they would no doubt only just be getting into the boats or some such other way of arriving here, Tiberius walked down the length of the Great Hall, noting that four were already seated, two he recognised and two he did not, although one of them was making a very good attempt on getting all the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. He recognised Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw, but the other two faces were unfamiliar to him, this did not however put him off in the slightest. It also might be noted that he didn’t seem to notice or admire the decorations, they were of course simply decorations and would only cause further excitement in the young students who probably did not need further encouragement. Eventually he reached the far end of the Great Hall.
“Good evening.” He said in a pleasant enough voice, not quite one that people would match with what he looked like however but it was polite enough and was matched with a slight inclination of his head towards them. “I trust you are all well?” It was a strange tone of voice that seemed to have a hidden version of what he was really saying beneath it, in this case he meant ‘I trust you are all aware of the amount of chaos that will ensue when the brats arrive and are well prepared for it?’.
