Ignore this! It's an application to an RP.
The Application
THE PLAYER
Name: Dian Samuelson
E-mail: dian.samuelson@ehealthinsurance.com
Messengers (aim is preferable): AIM is dedrakun
Timezone: Pacific Standard Time
Availability: Mon-Fri. 12pm-1pm (for posting, not for aim.)
Experience: I’ve been role playing for many years between friends. I joined a Harry Potter game last year but it died before it could get off the ground. I am also the mod of a small RP community on Livejournal, but it’s very informal.
Did you request a hold? If yes, under what name?: Yes. It was anonymous because I don’t have an account yet.
THE CHARACTER
Name: Severus Tobias Snape
Nicknames: Snivellus, Sev
Date of Birth/Age: 1/9/1960, he would be 18 in 1978
House/School Years: Slytherin/Hogwarts Graduate
Blood Status: Half-Blood
Alliance: Dark Lord
Occupation: He’ll work in a dark arts book shop in Knockturn Alley.
Appearance: He’s thin, has sallow cheeks, black eyes, a sickly complexion and stringy, shoulder length black hair. He’s shorter then many of his peers, but is not abnormally small. The book says he has yellow uneven teeth, I’ll agree with that, but only moderately. They would be the teeth of any average English man who likes his tea.
PB: Adrien Brody
Personality (include strengths and weaknesses): Intelligent, cynical, sarcastic, with little self confidence. He still covets Lily Evans, and seeks to get back into her good graces. He enjoys praise and surpassing/demeaning others. He holds on to the friends he made in school greedily and follows their example with little moral questioning. He longs for acceptance and camaraderie and will do much to acquire it. He’s brave and cunning, and wants to work up the Death Eating ladder to achieve greatness.
Achievements: Well versed in the dark arts, potions, healing, and legilimency/occlumency.
Hobbies: Reading, studying, magical improvement.
Sexuality: heterosexual
Boggart: lily with her back to him.
Patronus (remember that not everyone can cast one): doe
History (at least 3-4 solid paragraphs): Snape was a lonely child, his parents fought allot and he and his mother occasionally got smacked around by his over controlling father. Snape loved his mother for her kindness, but she always seemed preoccupied with worries about finances or her horrible choice of a spouse. She didn’t seem to have the energy to spend much quality time with her son during the day, and when his father came home, Snape spent most of his time trying to be quiet and stay in his room. Snape hated his father. He was the perfect example of why muggles were complete trash. Furthermore, he couldn’t understand why his mother didn’t defend herself from his tempers. She could do magic, he could not, so why didn’t she make him regret it when he hurt her? He often had to listen to them fight knowing that he could do nothing to help her.
Snape was never good at making friends, and that certain distain he had acquired about muggles didn’t help either. School became a pleasant escape, but his quiet manner and passive, awkward way of interacting with his classmates (not to mention his cloths) made him an easy target for childish teasing. Even in his youth, he was bitter and resentful towards others who got the things his family couldn’t afford.
When he got old enough, he would walk the few blocks to a park just outside Spinner’s End and enjoy the swings and the solitude. Most of his days were spent alone, until he met Lily. He was captivated by her from the very moment her saw her. He watched her carefully, secretly, covetously. It was hardly a surprise when he witnessed her do magic, for he’d always had the suspicion. No muggle could be so wonderful. Of course she was a witch. Then they met, and while that moment didn’t go as well as he had planned, the two soon became the best of friends. Soon the day came that they were old enough to attend Hogwarts together. It was a massive blow when Lily was sorted into Gryffindor. Still, they spent as much time together as possible.
Originally, Snape had great plans of making lots of friends at his new school since they were all wizards and he could show off the skill his mother had taught him. Some of the Slytherin kids were impressed, but it seemed no one else wanted anything to do with the dark arts. This was something Snape would never be able to understand. His mother had always said that no magic was to be feared, and that only the ignorant classified magic and light or dark; good or bad. The world seemed to be full of ignorant people.
When Snape’s mother died in his third year, home became an absolute hell. Of course, all of his summers were spent away from home with Lily, and most of his time at school was spent with her as well. A rift started growing between them, however, as he dove deeper into the arts that impressed his housemates and Lily got more involved with the anti-Dark Lord movement like all the other Gryffindors. The final separation between the two occurred after their owls. He didn’t mean to call her that, but when one hears a word on an hourly basis… it just slipped out. He wasn’t angry at her really, just at the situation. But his lashing out marked the end of their friendship.
Throughout the next two years, his feelings for her continued to grow despite her refusal to speak with him. His hatred for the people that had ruined his chances for happiness at school also grew. It didn’t matter why they picked him out of the crowd to torment, it only mattered that they did. He swore that he would get even and fell easily into Sirius’ trap. Of course he couldn’t believe that Potter saved him for any reason other that not wanting to get expelled. What made it worse was the fact that Sirius got away with hardly any punishment at all and he was even forced to swear not to reveal the secret about Lupin. It was obvious Dumbledore was acting out of prejudice. They were Gryffindors, Snape was not. It was just another example of others being unjustly treated better than he was treated. It was something Snape was used to.
Graduation was a pointless ritual for him. His mother was dead and his father didn’t bother to show up. The only ones who congratulated him were his fellow Slytherins, his fellow Death Eaters. Unlike his friends, Snape didn’t join the Dark Lord right after school. Lily was still at the fore of his thoughts, and he knew that a Dark Mark would make their reconciliation impossible. So, with no knowledge of her union with James Potter, Snape will take what steps he can to reunite with the woman he loves.
Journal Sample: The waxing moon was the only source of light spilling over the rolling countryside besides the star lit sky, but bright did it shine. I could clearly see its reflection on the long strands of remaining valley grass as I lay there cocooning myself in my mother’s woven blanket. As tired as I was from the day’s work, the blessed realm of dreams still somehow evaded me. I watched my goats in a dazed stupor and listened to the rhythm of the wind, comparing the blowing of it to the oceanic waves of the Northern Sea that I visited once in my even earlier years with my father. What a beautiful night it really was. The sky was clear and vast, completely absent of clouds, and the stars that shone above me were without number.
It must have been then, gazing at those stars, that I finally succumb to sleep, though I do not remember it. I can only testify now that I slept because I later awoke with a start. Sitting up, ridged and wide-eyed, I suspiciously scanned my surroundings. Someone had called my name, I could swear to it. Distinctly I had heard it, so much so that it woke me from my dreamless sleep and placed me in the confused state that I was now in.
As I looked about, it seemed that in the moments that I had lied asleep, the sky had sufficiently clouded over, and the breeze that had lulled me had died. I was now immersed in a black stillness and could barely see the movement of the goats that paced about before me with much unease. I began to rise to my feet, hearing faint noises in the distance that were alien to me. With shaking knees, I peered above the brush, holding myself for warmth as I emerged from my blanket. I felt disorientated, cold, and very vulnerable. Only twelve years did I have to my name, and I was in no fitness to defend myself well if at all from robbers or wild animals hoping to find easy pickings with me.
(This is an excerpt from someone writing down their history in their journal.)
RP Sample: He lifted his long-feathered quill from his tanned parchment, placed it carefully aside, and listened to the partially muted sounds of hushed men and horses outside his home disturbing his flow of thought. His mind trailed away from his journal as he reclined wearily in is chair, causing it to groan, and rubbed his eyes and temples with chilled hands. With his mind's journey from past to present not yet completed, he rested his glazed attention on the small frosted window that lay just before him no larger than a portrait mirror. It was winter there, and the thick woods which surrounded his home were laid heavily with snow. Each particle of frozen rain danced lazily about, dimly reflecting what little moonlight could seep through the clouds above his view. Forgetting why his hand had ceased writing, his thoughts strolled back and forth between what lay on the pages and what lay outside his window, still trying to collect his memories and put them back in the pit of his stomach where they belonged. His eyelids drifted closer together as he felt his need for rest pulling them closed, threatening to refuse its release until the darkness of the following night. While thinking it would not be wise to slumber on so uncomfortable and unsteady a chair, he was called back by the murmuring of voices still lurking around in the back of his consciousness. It seemed strange somehow to hear the sound of human voices again. He had been reclused for so long. So many, many years.
In the awkward hours of late night and early mourning, the light from candle and dying fire lay across his form. Snow white hair traced over his face as it hung freely and un-kept, just whisping his shoulders with their frayed edges. Dark shadows marked lines under his eyes and slashed across his cheeks where maturity and time would scar much older looking men. Yet his appearance remains unsettlingly youthful, seeming soft and smooth to touch as it reflected the dim light. He leaned deeper into his seat and sighed; relaxing into a near slumber until movement outside reminded him he was not alone. The sounds of footsteps were shallow and faint, but audible nonetheless. He had begun to hope the presence of outsiders had only been the product of his drifting dangerously close to sleep. He listened as boots crunch through new snow and onto dead twigs that fell cluttered between the shedding trees. It seemed they had not yet come close enough to escape the forest and enter his clearing.
The steps were even but heavy, suggesting weary yet well trained soldiers. Swords jostled along the sides of horses and the thick fabric of walking legs, but the men no longer spoke. He took in a long breath. The smell of the animals and the sweat of the men filled his nose. Those on foot must have been near the end of a long march, meaning they may have been as tired as he was if not more so. Yet they would not have traveled far enough to weary so if they hailed from the towns that skirted his forest. He wondered for a moment where these intruders may have been from, then noticed the hesitation in their stride. They were apprehensive, most likely knowledgeable of the stories told of this place. They must have been here for some purpose then, to seek him out perhaps. It was possible they were from the governing city to the eastern north. That would have proved a sufficient march. He again rubbed his eyes, though that time out of frustration. How long did he expect humans to allow him to remain here without acting? Surely some men had taken it upon themselves to find aid to rid the woods of the evil that limited their hunting and the expansion of their land.
For a few lengthy moments, he remained still and observed the oncoming party with hands lingering over his closed eyes until finally, the band stood before his isolated cabin. Those on the ground allowed two horses to pass, and two men to dismount. He listened as others approached and escorted the animals back a ways to be cared for and fed. Still there was no discourse among his visitors, only the quiet of a black night vainly lit by torches and the tepid air that had ended its release of snow. After a long pause, a whisper cracked the silence.
(I had to change this from present tense to past tense since I assume it’s the format you prefer.)