depleti
Felicity Tierney
4th Year Gryffindor
Seeker
Cyrus Archer
Divination
Posts: 111
(8/2/05 1:50 pm)
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Ignatius Flint: Hogwarts Caretaker
OOC
Name: Depleti
Contacts: sksbastet(@)aol.com, I’ve got MSN, AIM, and YIM so if you want those accounts just PM me. I also use ezMail.
Age: 19
Code: Rita Skeeter
IC
Name: Ignatius Flint
Nickname(s): Ig, maybe Iggy but Ig is better.
DOB: April 3rd, 1985
Blood: Half-blood
Previous School/House: None, privately tutored.
Occupation: Hogwarts Caretaker
Physical Appearance:
Ignatius started out as scrawny, filled out to have some muscles, and became scrawny yet again. His short time in Azkaban took a dramatic toll on his present appearance, from refined and handsome to rough and hollow. Any attempts by his father to “rehabilitate” him have fallen short, or Ig just puts up with it long enough to pacify him. While in prison, Ignatius grew accustomed to letting his hair grow out longer than before, letting it drape across his shoulders in the back. The color dulled slightly, but still maintains the coppery hue it had from birth. For some reason Ignatius likes to chew on his hair while he’s bored or thinking, so the strands hanging around his face are uneven and broken from frequent gnashings. Now he’s started on the hair usually tucked behind his ears. When his father comes to visit Ig is often pressured to cut his hair, which he does, but as soon as Pyrites leaves Ig grows it to its usual length via a hair growth gel he created.
His eyes are a sharp blue-gray in color with long, light lashes and typically drooping eyelids. Since his hair is so light and thin, when he forgets to shave he gains very little facial hair, and once he realizes it’s there he promptly shaves it off. Ever since his release he’s been trying to fill out his skinny frame and gaunt features, and has managed to reclaim a shadow of the looks he once had. He has very pale skin with the same dull complexion of his hair and eyes. Standing about 6”4’, Ig has long, lanky limbs with the necessary muscles, not totally ripped, but toned enough. For some reason he has a staggering, slouching gait when he walks, acting like he has all the time in the world to get to where he wants to be. When standing he slouches, when sitting he slouches, when leaning he slouches. The only time he’s sitting properly is when he’s trying to impress someone or if his father is in sight.
Ignatius used to wear only the finest robes and outfits that his father could afford. He had always secretly despised the confining ensembles, and once he was out of school he managed to gather more comfortable clothes for himself. His wardrobe at the school consists of white button-down shirts and simple navy trousers. In place of a belt he has a loose cord of rope tied around his hips that carries his wand as well as the various keys needed for the school. The rope can be untied and is magically inclined to lengthen and shorten at the wielder’s discretion. It’s especially useful for helping little firsties with those pesky moving stairs.
Personality:
Three years in Azkaban would affect different people in different ways. Ignatius doesn’t feel his stint was very long, but he has no desire to go back, thank you very much. The short time he was there affected him nonetheless. He has an intense and even violent fear of the dark; he will scream and kick before he goes into any place without a speck of light. His wand is always at the ready to cast Lumos because of this, and he also is quite skilled at spells that create fire for light. As long as there is some light present, he can handle even the smallest, dankest places. It helps if there’s someone else with him, but he does fine on his own. He just has to remember to breathe at certain times.
He’s grown quite content to be alone for long periods of time, often talking to himself and voicing his thoughts aloud. Unfortunately he forgets to stop this habit when he’s with people, so he might say something aloud that would better be left inside his head, especially if he’s talking about someone who’s right there in front of him. He’s gotten quite a handful of dirty looks for his less than subtle comments on horrendous wardrobe choices or questionable eating habits. Sometimes his language is rather crude to boot. The worst part of this is that he often doesn’t realize he’s saying something that might hurt someone’s feelings. He grew up around people who always acted falsely, so he’s never sure what someone’s actually feeling when he meets them. The only emotion he’s in tune with acutely is pain.
His awareness of the pain of others stems from his desire to be a Healer. Ever since he was young, when he healed a sick little rabbit back to perfect health, he had the growing drive to learn how to cure people. His specialty lies in potions and herbs and plants, since his father is an expert in them and owns a successful apothecary store on Knockturn Alley. Pyrites, in his own way, encouraged Ignatius to continue the path of research and development of potions, but he didn’t know that his son was more interested in their healing abilities than their more hostile effects. Unfortunately, Ignatius’ dreams of joining the ranks of St. Mungo’s were dashed the day he sold a mislabeled potion to a wizard that resulted in that wizard’s death. Even though he was proclaimed innocent, Ignatius doubts very much if a hospital would trust him enough to hire him.
A rather nasty habit that Ignatius picked up from his father is smoking. The cigarettes he buys are usually cheap and smelly, unless he gains a little money and splurges on more expensive ones that are magically enchanted to smell like roses or have the smoke twirl into funny little animals. However, ever since he took up the job at Hogwarts he’s been diligent about quitting. To replace his addiction he’s begun chewing on wizarding anti-smoking mint sticks whenever he gets a craving. If he’s really stressed or depressed, he resorts back to his stinky cigs in the privacy of a high tower. His affection for impressionable children prevents him from smoking in front of little munchkins, but he’s not so sheltering around teenagers.
Women are almost like alien beings to Ignatius past a certain point. He never had a real mother and the women that his father always tried to woo only lasted a couple of weeks before Pyrites dumped them. Ignatius never felt the need to become acquainted any further with the female sex than the boundaries of kissing and fondling. Consequently his attitude toward women could be pegged as harsh and insensitive, but then there are those women who wave away his attitude because of his lack of mother and therefore try to play the part of a nurturing woman. Ignatius doesn’t respond well to the coddling they usually prescribe, finding offence that anybody thinks him incapable of brewing his own tea or something. Despite this, he often flirts unknowingly with women, mimicking his father’s sweet, if hollow, words.
One of the things that Ignatius does to sooth his sometimes rattled nerves is play his sacred violin. He was pressured into learning a respectable instrument as soon as he was adopted, and the violin was the only one he took to. At first he was as reluctant as any young child to discipline himself to studying and practicing, but soon he realized that playing the little instrument simply made him feel good and helped him think more clearly. He began to take the violin seriously, and over the years he’s become as expert with it as any professional musician. The idea to actually become a professional violinist never crossed his mind, as he only does it for his own amusement and health. He practices everyday, usually after he wakes up and before he goes to sleep. Often he wanders out in the open air of the courtyard or a high tower so he doesn’t feel so confined. If someone yells at him to knock it off, he usually yells back something obscene and continues playing until he’s done with his piece.
Ignatius, honest and truly, loves his adopted father. He has no unsettling feelings or thoughts about his parentage, feeling that his life up until he turned three was just filler. True, at first he had a hard time connecting with the sometimes cold and callous Pyrites, but every once in a while a warm side would show through that made up for anything uncomfortable. Ignatius even says that his father was really the person who got him into healing, helping to cure the little bunny that he had found in their yard. There might be hard feelings toward Pyrites’ refusal to let Ignatius attend Hogwarts and therefore make some friends, as well as the general pressure to get a better job than caretaker of said school, but Ignatius still loves his father. He repeats this whenever Pyrites comes to visit with that critical eye of his.
History:
Ignatius’ mysterious parentage is hardly mysterious. He was born on April 3rd in 1985 to a witch who just wasn’t ready for pregnancy, and so was given up for adoption. His real father was a Muggle, the mother’s boyfriend, and, honestly, the only thing unknown about Ig’s parents is their names. Ignatius was shuffled around foster homes until he was three, when he was adopted by the rich wizard Pyrites Flint (who is in no way related to the Pureblood Flints). He took Pyrites’ last name and became Ignatius Flint. Right away Ignatius began learning the violin, and it didn’t take long for him to adjust to Pyrites’ strict rules. As he grew up Ignatius learned more about proper etiquette so that he was a respectable young man.
His childhood was rather lonely, as he was the only child in a very big house and had a very strict father. Once in a while he would sneak out to try and secretly play with the nearby children. If his clothes ever got dirty or ripped, he had to come up with an excuse or hide them until he could fix them. He learned early on how to repair and sew his own clothes, as well as clean them. If Ig ever was caught sneaking out, he be physically beaten in the form of Pyrites’ cane making brief contact with his skull, as well as verbally beaten by a very long lecture on proper etiquette.
The one thing in Ig’s life that Pyrites ruined that Ig never forgave him for occurred when he turned eleven in 1996. He had heard of Hogwarts from his father and the growing controversy surrounding the school, reading every scrap of paper that he could on the subject. Despite the feeling of unease and tension, Ignatius still wanted to go and meet other children his age who could do magic. When the letter came Ignatius was more elated than he had ever felt in his life, but his hopes were ripped apart as soon as they formed. Pyrites sent back a letter to the school that refused Ig’s acceptance, and the boy’s private tutoring began on the first of September that year. Ignatius still has his acceptance letter from Hogwarts and cherishes it to this day.
So, Ignatius’ private schooling began. Pyrites taught a couple of the subjects himself while hiring teachers for any other subject he didn’t know very well. Because of Pyrites’ specialties, Ignatius became most versed in the types of magic his father knew best: Potions, Herbology, and Charms. He hardly learned any history that he didn’t already know about, and subjects like Divination and Astronomy were completely passed over without learning even a basic knowledge.
When Ignatius was twelve, he came across an injured rabbit in the backyard. It had a bloody, broken leg and was completely exhausted with panic. Ig couldn’t leave it like it was, so he stunned it with his wand and brought it into the house, begging for Pyrites to heal it. Pyrites resolutely refused at first, but once his son vowed to just heal the creature himself, he figured it was best to show Ignatius how to properly deal with the magic he would need. With his father’s reluctant help, Ignatius learned new magic and potions for healing, and the rabbit was good as new by the end of the day. Ever since then Ignatius not only has an affinity for healing, but he can’t stand to see anything cute and small in pain, be it animal or child.
Ignatius had to have a representative from the Ministry come and administer his O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. tests both years. Of course he failed subjects like Divination and other that he was never taught, but he received the highest scores possible for Potions and Herbology, and still high scores for Charms and Transfiguration. Ignatius was still upset that he was never able to learn from more qualified teachers, but he kept his discontent to himself. As soon as he “graduated,” Pyrites put him to work in the apothecary store he owned on Knockturn Alley. Ignatius wasn’t any more content to be holed up in that dark shop anymore than he had liked his father teaching him, but he put up with it until he could save enough money to go out on his own.
For a few years, everything went smoothly. Ignatius continued to collect his own income from the shop, even taking special orders to concoct some of the more dangerous and complicated potions. A month after turning twenty, he sold an old, grizzled wizard a potion that was supposed to help his blood flow. Instead the wizard died, and Ignatius was suspected for murder and thrown into Azkaban while investigations took place. Eventually it was discovered that the potion had been mislabeled by someone, but it took three years for Pyrites to get his son released and relieved of all charges. It would have taken longer if he hadn’t used his money and mannerisms to bribe and manipulate.
The three years that Ig spent in Azkaban felt like one long week of never ending boredom and depression. He had plenty of time to dwell on the fact that he had killed someone and continues to blame himself for not checking the contents of the potion before giving it away. It reminded just how temperamental the art of concocting could be, but all throughout his time at Azkaban he just wallowed in self-pity. The Dementors were a never ending source of distress and fright, and it was because of them and the prison that Ignatius developed his ardent fear of the dark.
The one bright spot through his stay was the small Pipistrelle bat he had befriended and let live with him in his cell. Ignatius named him Azkaban (it was really the best name he could think of at the time), or Azzy for short. The tiny bat shared in the human’s misery and depression, and stole away in Ig’s pocket when they were both freed. Azzy, despite being free, never left Ignatius’ side and became the man’s best, squeaky friend. The little brown bat even began to share in Ig’s eccentricity, finding odd places to rest on his owner’s person. His favorite position is reclining on Ig’s nose with his wings outspread, giving Ig very odd membraney eyebrows.
As soon as Ignatius was released, almost three years exactly after his imprisonment began, he begged his father to teach him the Patronus charm. His fear of Dementors was intense and fierce and he wanted to take any means he could to protect himself from them. Pyrites consented, though it took a while for Ignatius to think of something happy to use for a Patronus. Eventually he managed to make a corporeal Patronus, and discovered it took the shape of a long-legged and graceful rabbit, harking to his first ever “patient.”
Adjusting back to the real world was difficult, but soon Ignatius realized the best way to keep from dwelling on his incarceration was to keep busy. He eagerly looked for any work he could find, as long as it wasn’t as his father’s Apothecary shop. It quickly became difficult to do, as he was too odd-looking for a Muggle job and had no real experience with Muggles and he was too well known in the Wizard world for his controversial arrest. One day he received yet another letter from Hogwarts, offering him the newly opened position of Caretaker. Ignatius (literally) jumped at the chance to work at the school he’d been unable to attend in his youth, despite his father’s dirty looks for having such a menial job. It took him a couple of months to get used to the school’s layout and odd quirks, but eventually he and Azzy settled down quite nicely. The hard part was adjusting his attitude and habits for the students, which led to his determination to quit smoking.
Roleplay Sample:
Ignatius couldn’t remember seeing eleven-year-olds that were so short.
It was the end of the first day and Ignatius was standing in the middle of the courtyard playing his violin and muddling over similar thoughts. The tune leaking out from his instrument was slow and melodious, hopefully propelling anyone who could hear into a restful sleep. It was already working its magic on its creator. Ig’s eyelids were drooping further and further over his eyes even as his hand continued to play.
A faint rustling made his ears prick, but his eyes stayed half open. He continued to drag the bow along the strings in a long, slow stroke as he waited for what he knew was coming. The rustling was soon joined by squeaky chirps, and the thing he expected to happen finally did.
SMACK.
As tiny as Azzy was, Ignatius was sure he could poke an eye out with his wings nonetheless, especially when he went flapping and flopping headlong into his owner’s face. Ignatius carefully opened his eyes and was met with darkness, although he knew what caused this particular brand.
“I’m not a bug,” Ig grunted and put down his bow to peel the little bat’s wings from his eyes. He held the bat up by one end of its wings and looked at the creature. Azzy hung there limply for a moment, seemingly in a daze, then sprung to life and fluttered crazily around Ig’s head, chirping and squeaking.
A small smirk spread across Ignatius’ face as he carefully put his violin and bow back in their case. “Forgot I oughtta be prowlin’ around,” he said. “Nice of you to remind me.” He placed the case on a nearby bench and picked up a long rod from the ground with a lantern hanging at either end. It was a creation of Ig’s own mind, since he disliked the dark so much he figured to have twice as much light in an easy-to-carry manner. After resting the contraption on one shoulder and lighting both lanterns with his wand, he looked up at Azzy.
“Found someone? Issat why yer so frantic?” He sauntered back into the castle corridor, muttering “Lumos” under his breath so that he had three times as much light. True, he would be a beacon to any student who might catch his light before he caught their sight, but oh well.
Azzy flapped down the hall and Ignatius picked up his swagger to follow along. Eventually they came across the figure of a rather anxious first year dressed up in his pajamas. The student looked up with a small peep and stared at Ignatius and Azzy as they both approached.
Ignatius furrowed one brow and cocked another as he stopped in front of the child. He was so SHORT! “Aren’ you supposed to be in bed?” he murmured gently, sensing the young boy’s distress.
The boy clutched his wand, its lit tip showcasing his anxious features. “I…got lost…”
Ig smirked and leaned over to get a better look at the kid. “That doesn’ answer my question. What’re you doin’ down here? Sneakin’ or snoopin’ or tryin’ to escape?”
The boy blinked. “No, sir.”
“Then what?”
“I was looking for the bathroom.”
Ignatius’ smirk fell and he rolled his eyes as he straightened up. “You kids’re so borin,’” he sighed. “Which house are you in?”
“Hufflepuff…”
“All right then, follow me. I know the closest one to that area.” He looked sidelong at the kid as he began ambling down the hallway. “It takes a while to get used to this place, and of course it looks completely different when it’s dark. Best take care of that kinna business before you go to bed, all right?”
“Yes, sir.”
Ignatius looked back ahead of him as he draped his lantern rod across both shoulders and let his hands hang limply over it. They weren’t very far from the Hufflepuff dormitories, if he remembered right. He couldn’t blame the kid for getting lost, as he had done it himself just a couple of months ago.
“Yer a first year, right?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You guys are so short.”
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