We are currently accepting new applications for Elsewhere!



Topics - Noah Ross

Pages: [1]
Elsewhere Accepted / Noah Ross
« on: 12/12/2014 at 06:20 »


Character Name: Noah Ellis Ross
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Blood Status: Halfblood

Hogwarts school, Gryiffindor ‘42

Whatever Couch I Can Crash On, Britain.

Being a bum. Aspiring Quid Player.


Requested Magic Levels:


  • Charms: 6
  • Divination: 9
  • Transfiguration: 6
  • Summoning: 9

Just the lovely Ross clan~

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Lincoln Litchfield, Eugene Bryce, and co.

Biography: (300 words minimum.)

Noah Ross has ninty-nine problems but girls and quid ain't one.

Unsurprisingly and chiefly among them is none other than Nathaniel Ross... if you could even call him a Ross. Nothing more than some bastard born to a home-wrecking floozy, Nate was a dweeby Ravenclaw who stole the title of first born son out from under Noah by just a couple of months.

If Nate and his mother had just never shown up that day--

Whatever; it was no skin off his nose. Even if Noah's parents weren't together any more, at least his mom was still alive-- She had handled childbirth like a champ, and to twins, no less. Noah one. Nathaniel zero.

Speaking of the twins... Jackson was a constant thorn in his side as well. Like a traitor, he'd also been put into Ravenclaw. It shouldn't have come too much surprise; Noah'd always find the little pansy hiding with his nose in a book when he should have been outside. For all Noah knew, the kid probably hung out with Puffs. Thankfully Sofie existed to make up for their sorry excuse of a brother. It was Sofie Noah had faith in. She had been placed in Gryffindor, and she even had that tough Ross spirit that was so absent in Jacks.

School had been a whole world of ups and downs of its own. Classes, for one, were not high on his list of priorities despite that-- if he kept that up-- he was more than likely headed for a life of working at his father's bakery. So occasionally he had shown up for class, enough so that he barely scraped the top of passing. For the most part, he'd been concerned about three things: Gryffindor, girls, and Quid.

Quid he was good at. From the second he'd been able to get his hands on a broomstick, Noah had been aces at flying. A natural at it, some would say, and had a keen eye for Beating-- not to mention the arm. Any day of the week one could find him playing Quid or thinking about strategies, and if one couldn't find him doing that, then you were more than likely to find him with his arm slung around a different girl.

And then graduation came and went, and he was glad for it. Just as quick as he had taken to a broom, Noah had been out the door-- but finding a job wasn't easy. In between trying out for Quid teams he's taken to hopping from place to place, sleeping on couches until he's no longer wanted and then moving to the next.

It wasn't his fault no one had taken him on yet. They'd just been second-rate teams to get his foot in the door, anyway. It was their loss.



"Sir, please! It’s for the Prophet, how do you feel-"






Roleplay Response:
Hands in his pockets, moving down the streets with the rest of the afternoon crowd, Noah's stomach rumbled. He hadn't gotten breakfast and was absolutely starving, and nothing sounded better than a sandwich right about now. Turkey and swiss on a fluffy roll. Or, even better, a burger. A growl of approval made itself known from his insides, but a frown tugged the corners of his lips.

Food cost money; something he was desperately getting low on. A few coins rattled in his pocket, but he needed to make it last as long as possible. May if he just--


Merlin indeed. It was as if the Big Man himself had heard Noah and sent a blessing. Taking a quick glance at the window he passed, Noah smoothed back his hair and brushed off his shoulders before sliding between elbows and rounding bodies until he reached his target.

"Got it!" Noah piped up, reaching down to snatch up said heel before a mountain of a man could trod upon it. If that had happened, he'd never win a Thank You For Helping Me lunch out of this.

Slipping on a charming little smile, Noah reached out his hand to her, "Do you need help?"

How did you find us? angels

Pages: [1]