Luitpold Wilhelm Striebel
February 18, 1867
Beautiful Beast Boutique Employee
Ash, 10", pliable, griffin feather core
Father- Ferdinand Rudolph Striebel
- 47- Photographer (pb: Stefan Kurt)
Mother- Alwine Dorothea Striebel
(nee Alker) -41- Housewife (pb: unknown, source ggaabboo's flickr)
Sister- Sophie Luisa Wolke
(nee Striebel) -21- Housewife (Pb: Maude Branscombe)
Brother-in-law- Felix Alfons Wolke
- 23- Soldier (pb: unknown, source ReiRoWi's Ipernity)
Nephew- Dietmar Konrad Wolke
- 20 mo.
Brother- Georg August "Gogo" Striebel
6' 0" (he's grown in the past year), he is quite tall (by victorian standards), which holds true to the height trends within his family, and he has blue eyes like his mother but the resemblance to his siblings and parents stops there, as far as he's concerned. He's has blonde hair as opposed to his family's brown hair, a wider, shorter nose than either of his parents, a tanner complexion and just a generally different face. He is more robust than his siblings, with a strong build and a weight of 157 lbs and the only one in the family who is left-handed. Consequently, he's often thought that he may have been switched at birth and, from time to time, gets the distinct sense from his father that he believes there may be a more unsavory, somewhat adulterous explanation for his divergent appearance, which wasn't at all assuaged by the discovery that he was a wizard. To make things worse, he also has different preferences when it comes to clothing. In short, he just doesn't see the need for all of the fuss that most people put into their grooming and attire. That's not say that he's a slob, but he is more than satisfied with his appearance after having run a comb through his hair and given himself a quick shave and prefers looser, homemade clothing over the uncomfortable, restricting urban fashions that his mother prefers to clothe herself, her husband and her children in, earning him the affectionate moniker of "unsere Bauernjunge" (our farmboy) his sister and mother. He does, of course, look a bit more put together at school, though, as he has little choice but to wear the school uniform, which is kept neat and pressed by the school's house elves.
Luitpold was born in his family home in Kassel with his father and three-year-old sister attending and his grandmother, who had been a midwife in her youth, assisting his mother in the delivery. Just a year before the Austro-Prussian war had resulted in Kassel, along with the rest of Hessen, being incorporated into Prussia's North German Federation and the rapid political reorganization didn't stop there. A year after his birth, they officially became a part of the province of Hesse-Nassau and, in 1871, after the Franco-Prussian war, it became a part of the newly formed German Empire. All of this change never really sat well with his father and put him in a perpetually stormy mood which lasted through the great majority of Poldi's childhood. All of the peripheral frustration that couldn't be aimed at the government or political figures seemed to find its way to young Poldi due to the difference between his personality and physical appearance and those of his parents and sister. Despite this, his family was, more often than not, loving and did have its happy times, particularly when his father's photography studio was doing well. When lots of children were being born among the upper and upper middle classes and when there were uniform changes that sent waves of soldiers to capture the prime of their years, the children's days were filled with reading and writing lessons from their mother, attendance at the volksschule once they reached the age of five, time to play with their school and neighborhood friends, midday meals with the entire family and even more family time in the late evenings when their father came home from work. There were also a few odd incidents with Poldi disappearing from his bed at night and showing up later on in beer halls that seemed much too far away for him to have walked there, but they were easily written off. (He would explain that he'd wished that he was there while he was dreaming so that he could hear the music and then his wishes would come true and he would wake up there. His parents chalked it up to either an early wanderlust or very quick sleepwalking and merely chided him for it and moved on) By the time their little brother, Georg, was born in 1874, business had decidedly slowed and home life had become considerably less enjoyable. The two older children still had some sort of refuge in school, which was government funded and, thus, unaffected by the family's fluctuating prosperity and Sophie Luisa had several friends that she would stay with from time to time when things were unpleasant but the family home, where an already somewhat reclusive Poldi and his young brother spent most of their time, was anything but pleasant. Their father spent more and more time ranting angrily about the state of the business and the country and scrutinizing his eldest son's every action, particularly his involuntary and, to them, unexplainable outbursts of magic. It was around this time that Poldi was forced to take up the violin, which might explain his pointed distaste for it. After a couple of years, things were so bad that their father made the decision to sell his photography studio and move to America. However, after having made the sale, he realized that he hadn't made enough money to make the passage and settled for Britain, which was at the very least much more politically stable and just a short jaunt over the North Sea for a much more achievable price. In 1876, he moved to Ipswich to establish a new photography studio there and earn the money that he would need to bring his family over as well.
Though he hates to admit it, the two years that followed were some of the best of Poldi's life. Without the unpredictable force that was his father, he was able to develop a handful of friendships within his neighborhood, pick up the accordion, which he had so loved to hear during his nightly trips to the beer halls in his earlier childhood and develop and solidify close and happy relationships with his mother, brother and sister. Then, in early 1878, his mother received word from his father that he the business was established and, by summer, here would be enough money for them to make the trip over to Britain to join him at their new home in Ipswich. Poldi and Sophie Luisa were devastated to be leaving their homeland (and, in his case, to be living with his father again), but little Georg, who had earned the nickname "Gogo" due to his own mispronunciation of his name during his toddler years, was excited about the move and the prospect of getting to live so close to the ocean. They made the trip in mid-July and Poldi immediately hated the windy, watery new locale, but he didn't have much time to wallow in his unhappiness as, just a week later, he received a letter from Hogwarts, saying that he was a wizard and was welcome to attend a wizarding school in the fall. To him, it was a thrilling revelation that fit perfectly with all of the strange happenings that he had experienced as a child, but his parents decided that it was most likely a joke made by poorly disciplined teenager from a nearby preparatory school. That is, they did so until a representative from the school stopped by to inquire about their lack of response to the acceptance letter and, after a good bit of convincing, got them to believe that the school was, indeed, existent and that their son did have magical abilities. The school was a bit pricy, but any sort of education in their new country was going to be and his mother was adamant that, if he was in possession of powers beyond their understanding, he should have the opportunity to learn how to use them to their full extent. His father agreed with very little prompting after making his son promise that he would study hard and not make their investment go to waste. He made the promise, fully intending to do so and was also rather excited to go off to school like a child of the upper class would, though he was somewhat concerned about the separation that he would have to face between him and his mother and siblings.
His enthusiasm for Hogwarts has faded significantly over his past five years of attendance, as has that of his parents, particularly due to the fact that he was, despite his best efforts, unable to withhold his promise to achieve academically as not to waste his parents' money. He does well enough in school that he has yet to completely and utterly fail a class or be held back a year, but he did come rather close during first year, mostly due to the fact that he barely spoke any English. Due to his lackluster performance, very few of his professors are fond of him and his father has only gotten more and more irate with him over the years, often accusing him of laziness and selfishness when he comes home for holidays and summers. Despite his father, homesickness is also quite a problem for him at Hogwarts and it has only gotten worse since his sister, Sophie Luisa, returned to Kassel two years ago to marry, Felix Wolke, a soldier and one of their former neighbors with whom she had been corresponding romantically by letter for a year. He remains close with her his brother and his mother and corresponds with them and his sister's new husband by letter during the school year. This past summer, though, he was quite surprised to find that they had all neglected to mention to him that Gogo had also begun to exhibit what they believe to be signs of magic during the previous year. Though would make him a rather late bloomer, it provides just a little bit of extra evidence for the entire family (with the exception of his mother who is already fully appraised of this fact) that Poldi is almost certainly a biological member of their family.
In early June of 1884, Sophie Luisa gave birth to a son, Dietmar, making Poldi and Gogo uncles.
In August of 1885, Poldi graduated from Hogwarts and, in late June, he was hired at Beautiful Beast Boutique in Hogsmeade.
Poldi is has always been a bit shy and slow to make friends. He has many acquaintances at Hogwarts, but no close friends, even after five years there. He's never minded solidarity anyhow. The only friend he really needs is his accordion (his violin is more like a lazy potions partner which he has to put up with, but will never pursue any unnecessary contact with) and he can often be found practicing in his room or on the grounds of the school. That's not to say, though, that he is adverse to the idea of human contact. In fact, he often enjoys being in the same general vicinity as people, just not having direct interactions or actually carrying on conversations with them. When this disengaged degree of proximity backfires on him, as it sometimes does, or when he is partnered with someone in class and has to speak to them in order to complete the task assigned to him, he generally keeps his communication to yes and no answers or, if those aren't sufficient, short phrases which leave some of his acquaintances questioning whether or not he has actually gained fluency in English yet. Although, his professors should know better, considering that he does turn in complete assignments, if not entirely masterful ones.
He tries his best to be successful in school, but has never been a star student. It definitely didn't help much that he started his first year just months after his arrival in England with little to no knowledge of English and having learned an entirely different writing style than the one that he was expected to use and read in school. He might have been able to overcome those issues more readily, or at least gotten some additional help from professors if it hadn't have been for another personality trait of his: his stubborn unwillingness to ask for help regardless of how much he may need it. To him, it's a matter of pride. None of the problems that he has are life-threatening or fundamentally insurmountable, so to complain about them would just be whining like a spoiled child to people who surely have their own concerns.
Despite his unwillingness to accept help for himself, he is in Hufflepuff for a reason and will help anyone else out if the need arises. Academically, this doesn't happen much, but he has provided musical accompaniment to his share of parties (even though the lion's share of them, to his great disappointment, have called for violin rather than accordion music). He's also loaned out quite a few coats which, to his mother's chagrin, aren't always returned to him. This sometimes misplaced generosity has earned him more than a few punishments from his father, though you won't find him complaining about that or holding any related grudges. Usually, he finds himself making excuses for anyone who slights him in any way, ranging from a bad mood or immaturity being the culprit for any sort of poor treatment from his father or his peers or dire financial circumstances making it impossible for a classmate to return one of his possessions.
Sample Roleplay Post:
The door opened with a high, prolonged creak as Karl stepped inside the bar that had become a relatively familiar spot to him in the past couple of years. He would hardly say that he was a regular, but, every once and awhile, when Mr. Noble had business in Brooklyn that was brief enough to necessitate him staying in area while it was completed, he would come to McGinty's to have something to eat and, perhaps a small beer (they were all relatively small here by his estimation). He didn't come by every time he found himself in Brooklyn, though. To do so might make him too familiar to the other patrons and he valued a level of anonymity from bars that a crowd of overly friendly drunkards would not afford. Furthermore, he was at a bit of a disadvantage in that regard so far away from little Germany. The accent tended to stick in people's minds more, the less frequently they heard it.
Despite his desire to remain unmemorable, he recognized the staff fairly readily now and he knew by the appealing smell wafting through the room that the young blonde barmaid whose name escaped him at the moment must have been working. Sure enough, as he approached the bar, she saw here there, humming drying glasses and looking altogether too young to work in a bar that was not owned by her parents. Either young women were getting more youthful with time or he was just getting older. Every year it seemed innocence became a rarer and rarer commodity among the young ladies of New York, regardless of their place in society.
He nodded at her as he passed and took a seat at a far corner of the bar, hoping to largely avoid notice from his fellow patrons when business inevitably picked up with the impending lunch rush. "Might I ask what is cooking in the back, young lady?" he inquired curtly, folding his hands on the bar in front of him.