COUNSELOR APPLICATIONS

[modofthehat]

C O U N S E L O R A P P L I C A T I O N


R U L E S
1. Anyone can apply for counselor spots, even players not in the game proper.

2. One counselor character per player.

3. There will be a maximum of 15 counselors. At least five of those must be adults.

4. Counselor characters must be at least 17 (their age can be slightly changed from their canon age).

5. Once accepted, the mods will contact you about duties you'll be expected to perform. If you're going to be horribly busy during July, please don't apply for a counselor spot.

6. All other in game rules apply to these characters as well.


A P P L I C A T I O N
<u>Player Information</u> <b>Name:</b> <b>Timezone:</b> <b>Personal Journal:</b> <b>Players Contact/AIM/MSN/YAHOO:</b> <b>Email Address:</b> <u>Character Information</u> <b>Name:</b> <b>Canon Origin/Series:</b> <b>Gender:</b> <b>Age:</b> [17 and up only] <b>Personality:</b> <b>Why should they be a camp counselor?</b> [Keep in mind, there are <i>lots</i> of reasons a kid might apply for a camp job. Responsibility, liking to work with kids, money, it looks good on a resume, they were bored, etc. As long as you justify it.] <b>One roleplay sample:</b> [This can be first or third person, and there's no word count minimum (but try to write enough to showcase your character's voice).

Comments

pt. 2

[weareallpuppets.livejournal.com]

One roleplay sample: hurpderp precamp

Ellis stretches, looking at his bedside clock with sleep clogged eyes. His first reaction is to hit it and roll back over, before he remembers that he has a long day at the car shop to look forward to, and that if he’s late again Dave will have his ass and several of his limbs too. With a heavy groan, he rolls out of bed, sheets falling to the floor haphazardly and trailing behind him as he makes his way to the kitchen. He hits the ‘on’ button on his coffee pot (because he insists that coffee brewed the muggle way tastes best) and shakes himself in an attempt to wake up some and ease the soreness in his neck. A screech makes him jump, but it is merely the post owl, a big barn fella with huge orange eyes that give him a nice glare until he slips a few sickles into his pack, laughing and ruffling its feathers (much to its displeasure).

As it flies off, he glances at the mail, though he doesn’t expect it to bring anything new. His magically inclined friends prefer visiting via floo, and his Ma and non-magical type friends, of course, call him, so really, what is he going to get but ads? With a small sigh, he tosses down the multi-coloured moving cards that advertise new brooms and fancy magical doodads that he can't afford, about to get ready for his day without a second thought to them when one catches his eye. He moves the other junk aside, staring at the unicorn on the card and reading the details below it with a big grin. A camp for some young British wizards, in need of counselors. He thinks about it: a few weeks of his time and it’s not like he can’t pop into work every so often, quite literally. Within a few seconds (and quite honestly before he's really thought about the consequences), he makes up his mind, because, damn, when was the last time anything interesting happened to him anyways?

"Well, shit,” he says to himself, scratching the side of his nose. “Looks like I bes' call in for a vacation!"

He hopes they have horses.


If you'd like anything like a different, less... fic-like sample, or a less generic last name, please do say so!

Accepted!

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