Accepted! ~Elle

About You, the Writer:
Your Nickname: Shan
Have you read and do you agree to the Code of Conduct?: You bet!
How did you find us and decide to write with us? Via RPG-D. Seemed like the perfect fit!
If you have written other characters here, list them all: N/A

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Full Character Name: Hector King
Character Birthday & Age: July 28, 1991 / 17
City & Country of Birth: Bristol, England
Pureblood, Halfblood or Muggleborn: Halfblood (though Hector has never met his wizard father).
House & Year: Gryffindor / 7th

Wand: 11" Beech, with unicorn tail hair; springy, and rather handy for charms.

Physical Description:
Hector is of medium height, with a slender build and a wiry sort of strength. His hair, dark blonde and straight, tends to be in a constant state of disarray, as though he's always just run his fingers through it, making it stick up at odd angles. His eyes, a dark blue, are generally full of laughter or some kind of hidden mischief.

More often than not, Hector's expression is one of perpetual glee. He gives the impression of one who loves the world and his place in it - especially if there's trouble involved. He's quick to smile; his grin is broad and genuine, sometimes disarming, sometimes smug. Hector seems to be fairly brimming with confidence, and always looks to be perfectly at his ease.

Personality Description:
Hector is loud, brash, and charismatic. He's the sort that does as he pleases, with no regard for rules or expectations; often, he does things for the express purpose that he shouldn't. He takes great pleasure in provoking reactions; whether someone loves him or hates him, he wants only for them to notice him - and never forget it, either.

For all his brashness, Hector can be quite charming when he wants to be, even sweet. Such moments tend to occur at the most unlikely of times and with the most unlikely of people; he can be someone's sworn enemy one day, only to defend them fiercely the next. That said, he seems to regard even his enemies with a certain degree of affection, in a "love to hate 'em" sort of way.

Deep down, Hector doesn't have a very high opinion of himself, and doesn't expect to do much with his life. He'd secretly like to be a great wizard, to do something important, but contents himself with his life of entertainment and excess. Though Hector counts a great many among his friends, he has few real confidantes, and prefers to look out for himself.

History:
Hector was born in Bristol. He was raised in a rough sort of neighborhood, by a father who never made it home from the pubs before dark and a mother who felt sorely used because of it. The ramshackle house he grew up in was persistently drafty and filled with wailing children: his three brothers and two sisters (or, at the least, half brothers and sisters, since one or two bore a remarkable resemblance to Mister Sully across the way).

Regardless, Hector never seemed particularly unhappy with his lot in life. That was just the way of it, as far as he could reckon; if his older brother bloodied his lip, Hector simply practiced his uppercut until he could do him one better. Eye for an eye, and all that; it was his father's favorite phrase, and one Hector learned well.

Money, or the lack of, was another thing Hector understood intimately. Rich people had money. Working people earned money. His dad spent it at the pub, and his mum wanted as much of it as she could get. Hector had a way of finding money, though he just as often lost it again; he became skilled in games of chance and hands of cards, and sometimes in simply ascertaining which pockets looked especially appealing. He picked up tricks in a manner that wasn't altogether natural, but seemed like second nature to Hector; sleight of hand and card counting and a carefully crafted system of hand signals he and his best mate Eddie implemented. He had a strong intuition, and always seemed to know just when to bail before trouble came calling. He'd later learn that these skills were part magic, but also part good sense and a mind that seemed to soak things - the important things, not like schoolwork - in like a sponge.

Hector was eleven when he got his Hogwarts letter. He accepted the fact of his magical heritage as easily as he accepted the sky being blue (or dreary grey, as was more often the case), though it gave his mum a right shock. He was the only wizard in the family, as far as he could tell, though his mum and dad had a raging fight after the owl had gone. His dad kept yelling about "that man", and Hector began to suspect there was a reason he didn't resemble his stocky, balding father one whit. He didn't pay it much mind (beyond wishing that, maybe, somewhere out there, there was a great wizard who was his real father), as after that he was off to Hogwarts and a new life entirely.

Hector loved Hogwarts, though his grades were mediocre at best and abysmal at worst. He returned to Bristol only when forced to, preferring to spend his summers kipping in the spare bed of one of his mates, if he could manage an invite. As the years passed, he consistently found himself in the middle of things - trouble, in particular - though he often managed to slip out of it with either keen timing or a charming grin.

As he entered his seventh year, Hector continued to approach life in much the same way as he always had: head-on, unabashedly, and with gusto.

How Do You Fit Into Your House?:
Hector is an ideal Gryffindor: brash, bold, and with a penchant for trouble. Beneath his love for excitement, however, he also has the capacity to be fiercely loyal, and could one day be inspired to great things, if he were ever to find a cause greater than his own entertainment.

Writing Sample:
Hector King was in an exceptionally fantastic mood. An owl had dropped the note on top of his breakfast plate that morning, and if there was anything that could brighten Hector's day, it was that: success and bacon.

He and Aly had been fighting this particular battle since his first year, and though Hector had always been assured of his eventual victory, it had been a hard-won war. She was a difficult one; Aly was as stubborn as they came, and it had taken six-and-a-half terms to force her to come to grips with the truth of the matter: she obviously fancied him.

Of course, all of this was supposing that Aly's note meant what Hector thought it meant. In his experience, girls didn't send letters to boys - or, maybe, didn't send letters to the sort of boy Hector King was known to be - unless they wanted one thing and one thing only: a good, proper snogging. Often hidden under the guise of a flimsy excuse - quidditch practice or divination notes or a party invitation - this was always the real aim. Hector was often called lewd, or, at best, cheeky, but this was the truth of it: he knew how to say what everyone else wanted to, and didn't.

At any rate, Aly had asked Hector to meet her in an alcove near the Entrance Hall, at twenty minutes past nine. Having solved the puzzle, he had only to wait for Aly, leaning against the stone wall in what he thought to be a rakishly charming pose. He wore a lopsided grin, the sort that seemed to say, 'Right, I've won, but I promise it'll be a hell of a kiss'. Of that, especially, Hector was sure; after all, wasn't he renowned for such activities?

When Hector spotted Aly, he straightened, rocking back and forth on his heels as his grin broadened. "Knew you'd come 'round eventually, princess."

Sum up your character in one paragraph:
Hector King is a trouble-maker. He can be charismatic and charming, but is equally likely to be lewd and obnoxious. He loves nothing more than provoking a reaction, and will use just about any means to do so. Deep down, though, he's well-meaning and good-hearted, and secretly hopes to do something great with his life.