#example audition

[theworldourstage-rpg-blog]

EXAMPLE AUDITION! MODKATE'S FIRST CHARACTER EXAMINED AS AN AUDITION!

AUDITION! OOC: Name: Kate Age (optional): optional-pass (for example) Roleplay experience: Amelia Bones, Kevin, Cogsworth, Dormouse, Tinkerbell, Kaylee Frye, Gigi Darcy, Mary Bennet, Snow White, Jane Watson, and independent characters. Form of Contact (Skype, Personal): ibelievewecandozatkeptin.tumblr.com IC: Character Name: Eponine Thernadier Show: Les Miserables Age: 22 Occupation (if they are employed): Bartender FC: Either Samantha Barks (an actor or actress who has portrayed the character) or Holly Harford (a new faceclaim you pick, though we ask that you pick wisely and accept if we request you use the actor or actress who portrayed the character). I will use Holly, for now. You are allowed to switch faceclaims, though you have to spend at least a month with each faceclaim you test, and you must ask us before changing. Plots wouldn't change based on the character's sudden new look. Bio: Eponine was born in raised in France, a child of the revolution. She and her parents, who she now attempts to distance herself from, took in Cosette and were horrible to her as a child. Though tough Eponine had an easy childhood, full of an alright amount of money, when she became a teenager, her parent's business went down the drain and she became quickly poor. Then was when Ponine began to distance herself, often spending days with Marius and the rest of the ABC students. She grew closer with Gavroche and had a happy enough time as a revolutionary. Now, after her story has been told, Ponine has been pushed into the town and now lives alone, adjusting to "The Town"'s rules and odd modern lifestyle, running her own life and choices. Eponine hasn't seen her parents since being corralled into the town, but she has seen everyone else and tried to right her past wrongs. Eponine is headstrong, hot-tempered, passionate, willing, loving, sarcastic, and strong. In character paragraph (2-3 paragraphs, or more if you can.): Eponine held onto her bureau to steady herself as she put on her work uniform. She'd at least been able to quit her second job in "The Town", and she felt that was something. Eponine checked the time on her phone, which still made her heart excited when she thought how close she was to everyone now. 9:09, she read, and Eponine threw her bag over her shoulder. She had her shift start at 9:30PM, and it was better to be there on time, she'd learned. Eponine walked to the bar, since it was close enough, and dropped her things in the corner of the bar. "Whiskey." Someone slurred, and Eponine rolled her eyes. "Haven't had enough already, have you?" She muttered as she slid them the drink and took the tip. Eponine turned to a new customer, an ABC kid, and grinned. "Usual?" He nodded and Eponine mixed a drink, using syrups and easy liquors for a young kid. She slid it and took the tip. Eponine swore she saw her Father, drunkenly slurring to one of her customers, but a second glance revealed Ponine was wrong. She sighed and hopped over the counter, pinning the rowdy customer into a booth. "It's too damn early for this." She muttered, and when another worker took over the irritation, Eponine headed back to spin more drinks. A feeling rushed over Eponine as she ran to the bus through the rain, avoiding street signs and feeling her boots sink into the mud whenever she stopped. Eponine swung onto the bus, paid her faire, and held onto a hook hanging from the bus ceiling. She watched the rain hit the pavement, and Eponine sighed. She saw a little girl, blonde and dirty, and saw the girl she remembered from Paris in her sad eyes. Eponine closed her eyes and listened to the fading chats and scratching radio. "Rowe." Someone called, and Eponine hopped down the slippery metal bus steps, heading to her house in the rain, still pouring down on her. She felt her knees tickled by the uncut grasses and pushed herself to the door. Eponine pulled the storm door open, unlocking it with the key hanging from her pants. The wind pulled the rain from Ponine's face as she tried to kick the mud off her boots to little avail. Eventually, Ponine slipped the boots off and stood them at the door, sliding around her kitchen barefoot, easily. Eponine sighed as she examined "The Town" around her. She wasn't sure if a revolution was happening or not, but she knew that it wasn't too bad, for a jondrette girl of the dust and the dusk and the Paris streetcorners.

[destiny-endures-rp]

Example Audition

Here is a example of a audition that we hope will help guide you just in case you become stuck or just want a look at something to give you inspiration. Now it might seem a little daunting but rest assure we will always show quality over quantity  

Character Name: Rabastan Lestrange

House/Alumni: Slytherin

Age: 17

Date of Birth: 22 Feburary 1960

Wand: Cedar, dragon heart string, a neat twelve inches, unyielding

Boggart: Himself, wandering lost wrestling for control from a formless entity. So far life has been easy. Rodolphus was a perfect barrier between him and his parents. There is no question in Rabastan’s mind where he stands on the issue of purifying their world but, this talk of war brought sudden responsibilities. Rodolphus always got stuck with that nonsense. Now training to be a soldier, his final years of his adolescence are no longer his own.

Patronus: Pure happiness that is essential to fuel a patronus is not something Rabastan is practiced in mustering. There are no fond or whimsical memories from his rigid pureblood childhood. Presently in his life there are moments and hobbies that bring him…joy. A twisted gleeful pleasure in the misery of others. Emotions showing on his sleeve because a filter of tact or common courtesy is something entitled to him and his bloodline, not the basic humans that scurry around him. Still, as of yet underage, a sliver of child-like innocence remains in his aura. Far from a pure heart, it is enough that a thin wisp of silver mist curls out of his wand upon muttering the incantation. As with all Death Eaters it is impossible for Rabastan to conjure any form of patronus once fully committed to the dark path.

Mirror of Erised: Making a name for himself. As much as Rodolphus is the only individual he truly cares for, Rabastan is weary of living in his older brother’s shadow.

Cause or Resistance: The Cause

Anything you would like to add or change? Any concerns or changes should be submitted here. Any changes to FC’s will have to be discussed and you will be notified with a answer. Password:

Biography:

Was, is the perfect term for Rabastan Lestrange. The youngest son of the Lestrange boys. From a young age it was instilled in him by his mother Aurelia that acting anything but properly would not be acceptable by the family. Reputation, how everyone saw the legendary powerful family with one of the oldest names was everything. It mattered how he spoke, the way he walked, how he greeted people. His father Romulus was the enforcer willing to do anything for the lessons of what was expected to sink into his son’s heads. Romulus wasn’t above physical punishment to rid his sons of weakness no crying was allowed, in fear of more of the same. Many of the purebloods withstood the same treatment it was what was done it their world, never spoken about but everyone knew. Due to these harsh realities brandished on him at such a young age Rabastan harbored nothing but dislike to the parents who bore him. However, he would do as he was told because despite their harsh methods they were correct. Unflinchingly, he believes in pureblood elitism and the need to purge their world of blemishes and mutations.

Though it was a relief the pressure wasn’t on his shoulders as it was on his brother’s it was apparent that Rodolphus was somewhat favored. His brother is one of the only people he cares about, save himself, Rabastan will always have his brother’s back first. However, like any younger sibling, also wants to be his own person and not live in the elder’s shadow. Being held in comparison to and hearing “Oh, Rodolphus’ little brother” one to many times supplied him a twinge of distaste. Struggling with that balance of family was a reoccurring theme in the back of his mind through out school; though in reality he thirsted for their approval. Legendary Slytherin ambition did not escape Rabastan. Those of pureblood were the pinnacle of the wizarding world, as such it wouldn’t do him any well in the eyes of his parents or society to establish low goals. Fought over Quidditch star, world renowned potion master, head of the Ministry; entering first year with the sorting hat perched on his head, Rabastan’s aim couldn’t have been higher. Rabastan preferred to be a gentleman and cause the most damage possible without the need to play with his food so to speak, a practiced front to the public eye. Words do so little when, as evident from his upbringing, actions do much more. Collected and focused, yes, but zero patience for those who wasted his time. Thus, when his temper was tested, he unleashed violence without warning disposing of the bother. Threats were an empty waste of energy.

These outbursts were a glimpse of Rabastan’s future. In a remarkably short time the driven, studious boy would become a memory. More then likely, Rabastan never consciously registered the change in himself. It was this ambitious desire to please his family and make a name for himself that drew him into the ranks of the greatest wizard of all time. In his final years of schooling, Voldemort’s vision of the world and ability to make it so was a shining opportunity to Rabastan. This man could make his desires reality. Training for Voldemort’s war became the prism through which his desires were magnified and focused. His final two years of school would see his grades crumble as well as his social structure. The only thing that would come to matter to Rabastan was “the cause”. The different facets of his personality would become invaluable to his leader and it is through service to Voldemort the brothers would again find common ground. When the rest of their peers would abandon their Lord, the almost unrecognizable Lestrange family would stand-fast one of the few truly loyal followers. Biding their time in Azkaban would only serve to unleash the entirety of his dormant personality in the long years of attempting to resurrect their Lord from behind bars. Insanity is after all, doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results.

 Para Sample: 

Sunk back in his seat behind a rotten smelling cauldron, Rabastan’s eyes smoldered as the fluff of his quill flicked repeatedly into his peripheral vision. To keep his want hand busy, he stiffly twirled the inked feather between his fingers. “Your brother never had such issues with his potions, dear boy.” Through the purplish-green haze that drifted above the still warm basin, Rabastan’s gaze could nearly burn a hole in the back of the The Slug’s head. Whatever the professor was going on about, was muted in Rabastan’s ears as he could already feel his pulse pounding in his temples matching the rhythm of his clenching jaw. Always his beloved brother, darling Rodolphus. The knot of his tie was barely fastened as though his own clothing knew to inch away when he got into a rage. Writing began to scrawl it’s way across the chalkboard at the front of the room as the pompous fool of a professor milled his way through the rest of the students. The lesson of the day changed into their homework for the evening, non-sense about an essay. It was ignored. Instead the agitated boy’s mind flashed back to holiday break, the day when his practice N.E.W.T. results had arrived.

Very few instances earned a proper audience with his father; official school correspondence was one of the few. When the Hogwarts owl had arrived, he was immediately summoned for the verdict. In his second to last year at school, studying was essential, for some forsaken reason his parents had insisted he take a prep examination for the upcoming years tests. For the life of him Rabastan couldn’t think of a bigger waste, exasperated he complied. Praise was never offered up in the Lestrange household, as such was not expected. However, as Rabastan stood rather rigid and uncomfortable in his father’s study, it was more then evident that these few minutes away from work were a chore. The parchment covered his father’s face and thus was unreadable. All was completely silent for a long minute before the letter and envelope were deftly dropped on the edge of the grand desk. “Expected.” Was all that was uttered before his father’s head dipped back down to whatever schematics were before him. Clearly dismissed, Rabastan could not hold back his curiosity and tentatively picked up the already forgotten parchment his father had dropped. A’s straight across, with a P dotted in for good measure but, all Rabastan saw was his brother’s gleaming O’s as though his mind superimposed them next to his scores just in case he had forgotten.

In the present, Slughorn’s dismissal of class filtered its way into his thoughts. With out hesitation, Rabastan snatched his sample vial off the table, there was no point turning it in. The force of him jetting out of his seat as he stormed out of the classroom bowled over his cauldron and the mess of his unused ingredients. Without blinking he completely ignored the cries of shock as his failed concoction splashed over the students that had sat in front of him, there were plenty of people in that dungeon who could clean it up. He stalked out to the grounds with the vial clenched in his hand and book bag thudding against his side. Rabastan stomped directly down to the edge of the Forbidden Forest where he had secretly met with a coerced Ravenclaw to tutor him in the courses he technically had neglected as his plans for the year moulded themselves. It was roughly the same time they had met the previous semester, with out question the stewing Slytherin expected the ponce to be there, fear was a handy tool like that. He wasn’t disappointed, a malicious smile spread across his face when he caught a flash of blue tie, for a genius Raven-ass the kid was dumb. A thin wand flashed and Rabastan’s calloused voice muttered, “Deprimo!” and in a heart beat the Ravenclaw boy was flat on his back gasping for air. Keeping his wand aimed at the boy’s chest and popping the lid off the vial with his thumb, Rabastan knelt over preparing to force feed the potion. His failure was his tutor’s failure after all. A shaking, timid voice broke the moment, rambling on apologizing for being late. Completely baffled and confused Rabastan’s eyes flicked from the boy on the ground to the one standing before him. It took nearly a full minute for his mind to click into place, he’d grabbed the wrong Ravenclaw. His utter confusion curled into a gleeful smile, that would have been charming in any other situation, when the cogs finally clicked. Holding down the first boy with his knee, Rabastan’s wand flicked over to his proper tutor, “Looks like I got me a two-fer.”

[world-of-disney-rp-blog]

Example for an Audition!

Personal -

Name or URL: braavos-girl.tumblr.com

OOC Age: 15

Other roleplays: Land of Tallythae

Have you read the rules?: PSHAW! I wrote them!

Character-

Which character do you wish to audition for: Megara Chaplin

Audition (2-4 paragraphs):

Megara walked casually down the road, her iPod blasting her favorite band into her air. The day wasn't too bad. Off in the distance Megara spotted clouds, she hoped it was rain. Something or anything to get her mind off the dammed curse.

The buildings surrounding the diner seem to tower over it, the bookstore on the left of it, a thrift store on the other side. The three buildings Megara spent most of her time in. She was a little early for work, but she had some school stuff to do. It was a wondrous thing, them still having to do school work even though it appeared as if they'd never be leaving this cursed town again.

Megara entered the building and sighed, it was packed. Her boss beamed over at her from across the 50's styled room, and beckoned her over. "Glad you're here early, can you start a bit early." Megara sighed and nodded. She jumped over an empty spot in the counter and out her apron on.

Any problems with the character: I made her!

Time Zone: EST