Accepted! ~Elle

Your Nickname: Greggor
Have you read and do you agree to the Code of Conduct?: Yes
How did you find us and decide to write with us? Friend
If you have written other characters here: No
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Is this a Primary or Secondary Character?: Primary

Full Character Name: Charles Joseph Luteta
Character Birthday & Age: fifteen, born January 4th, 1993
City & Country of Birth: Tshikapa, DRC
Pureblood, Halfblood or Muggleborn: Halfblood
House & Year: Ravenclaw, Year 5

Wand: 10 1/2", twisted dogwood with a dragon's heart string core. Strong but supple. It was his mother's, and she kept exceedingly good care of it.

Physical Description: Charles is neither tall nor short, with big feet and hands like spades. While not particularly heavyset, he has a roundness of face and fullness of figure that lends him a rather soft quality. His eyes are muddy brown and are normally behind a pair of opaque smoked glass spectacles. His skin is a dark brown that never seems to get any paler or tanner, and his curly black hair grows wild and is pulled back. His teeth, while perfectly cleaned and maintained, have never had any hardware on them and have gaps between them like the posts of a white picket fence. When standing, Charles tends to lean one way, then the other like a tree blowing in the wind.

Personality Description: Charles is easy going to a fault. Need a friend to drag you back to Hogwarts after drinking something stronger then Butterbeer at Hogsmeade and stay with you through the night to keep you out of trouble? Need someone to confide in the smallest minutia of your love life? Charles is a listener more then anything else and is always willing to help and comfort just about anyone. He doesn't anger easily and he's nearly impossible to insult.

On the flipside, this attitude also manifests in a distinct lack of effort for most anything requiring strenuous activity either physical, mental or otherwise. Basic errands, homework, things most people don't think twice about doing, Charles isn't sure are worth his time. He'd rather stay in the common room listening to music only he can hear in his head or drinking tea then actually exert himself. The only way to be assured he does anything you say is if you ride his hind end to the finish. Charles is the sort of guy who just makes people tired when they argue with him while he never breaks a sweat. It's impossible to take the smile off his face.

History: Charles's parents were Paul Luteta, a Tetela agricultural scientist educated at Strausburg I in France and Erishva Zaheer, third generation Pakistani from London. The two met while they were stationed in Tshikapa in the Kasai Province of the DRC for work. Paul was researching and implementing ways to reuse the land that had been and still was being ravaged by mining exploits, and Erishva was studying special species of frogs for a British academy, she claimed. Later on in their relationship would Paul find out that she was actually a witch doing surveys of native fauna for possible uses in potions. Paul, a secular student who'd grown up in a strictly Roman Catholic family reacted to this in the standard stages of denial, fear, gibbering madness, shattered worldview, fetal position, and eventually, after a lot of soul searching, acceptance.

When Charles was born, both parents decided it would be best if they took him to his mother's home country for the sake of security. Growing up, Charles was a fairly normal child save for his mellow disposition. He rarely cried when hurt, never threw tantrums, and tended to have a rather vacant smile on his face. His parents began to worry he was a bit simple until he learned how to talk in earnest and was able to repeat back every word they told him verbatim.

It didn't matter what he was told, he was somehow able to hold it all in his head. His father could give him long lectures on the differing hybrids of citrus trees or the nitrogen replacement qualities of different legumes and his son would spit them right back to him, word for word. Even when he was too young to truly understand what all the words he was hearing and saying meant, his dad's enthusiasm rubbed off on him and to this day he's most comfortable when surrounded by or learning about plants.

When he finally turned 11 and an owl swooped through the window of their apartment with a letter tied to its leg, neither parent was surprised. Going to Hogwarts for the first time wasn't a particularly great adventure to the young Charles, or a something worthy of trepidation. Mainly, he just liked talking to the other kids, swaying along in the train, eating the strange new candies he'd never heard of.

Things haven't changed much since then. Only showing real interest in herbology and potions, Charles has coasted along via his ability to regurgitate knowledge without learning much of anything. He's quiet and polite, so teachers aren't so much annoyed at him as resigned. He spends most of his time in the common room listening to music playing in his head or walking about the school grounds, taking tea near the Forbidden Forest when he can manage it.

How Do You Fit Into Your House?: n Charles's own words: "I'm not foolish enough for Gryfindor, I'm too lazy for Hufflepuff, and my father nixed my chances with Slytherin. Where else would I go?"

This encapsulates his position. He's smart, but not dreadfully smart. He has little drive, and does exactly what is needed, not an iota more unless he takes special interest in it. He does have a certain knack for putting things together, though that's more insight then it is intelligence. His amazing auditory memory keeps him from having to take notes.

Writing Sample: "So this one," Charles explained, "Is a blend from Mali. The Mali, they like their tea very strong, very minty, and very sweet." Taking his small pot, he poured the tea out from high in the air, the amber stream instantly filling the slightly damp morning air with an herbal tang. Three tea cups that looked more like shot glasses had been arranged, each one bright blue, gleaming from the oily patina of the glaze. When he finished, three foamed over tops could be seen just over the lips of the tiny cups.

He grinned and took one of the cups in hand, offering it to his new friend. He wasn't sure of his name, he was a fifth year Gryfindor in his potions class who he'd given some help to that day. Afterwards, Charles had asked if the boy had ever had tea from Mali, and when the answer was a denial of this, Charles asked if he'd liked to.

The autumn afternoon was cool, and the slight smells of leaf decay and woodsmoke seemed to match the feel of the ever growing chill, the haze of clouds and the spread of oranges and reds and golds that wasbefore the two, sitting on the dew laced grass just in front of the Forbidden Forest, its twisted trees almost resembling something of pained beauty as they showed their seasonal colors.

The boy, still rather confused as to why he decided to do this, but bolstered by his new friend's kindness, took the little cup gratefully, blew on it, and brought the foamy liquid to his lips. As the warm stream of tea slid down his throat, the mint and sugar and mild taste of the green tea mixed together into something he'd never quite had before. "It's... very strong."

"First one always is," said the darker boy, laughing lightly as he took the second cup for himself, already pouring more water into the tiny kettle and dumping sugar into it before placing it back on the little wire cage furnace with bits of glowing charcoal within. With a slight flick of the wand, a blowing a steady gust onto the coal, making the cheery red of the burning embers become a warm orange. “They get sweeter each time as the tea loses its potency. Then it gets more bitter as you run out of sugar.”

The Gryfindor boy laughed. There was something about how simple this was, the tea, the conversation, the panorama they were taking in, that made the stress of classes slough off him. He smiled and looked up from his already finished cup to Charles, who was finishing up the third of the shot glasses. "Thanks... I really appreciate it. It can get a bit hectic here, especially at the beginning of classes, you know?"

Charles's face remained, the smile still as small and serene, a few tooth slats peeking through the parted lips. "I find that in general, a sense of relaxation makes everything work better, whether this be classes, sports, conversation, whatever. Floating's easier then flying, and letting the wind do the work keeps you fresh."

The other boy couldn’t help laughing again at the rather ridiculous metaphor. "Ha, easy for you to say, Ravenclaw. I bet you finished yesterday's homework in the time it took for me to take out my books."

Charles looked up from pouring the second round of tea, high stream still falling perfectly into cup. "Homework? What homework?"

Sum up your character in one paragraph: Easy going, relaxed, these are words that describe Charles to a T. Easy to talk to, easy to be around. His apathy is a bit grating though. He's the sort of person who'd rather drink tea in the common room then study for his exams or go on adventures in Hogsmeade, though he might be persuaded to do either if friends are involved.