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Messages - Thaddeus Bellamy

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Archived Applications / Thaddeus H. Bellamy
« on: 03/04/2015 at 23:30 »

Application for Hogwarts School




→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.
Name: Thaddeus H. Bellamy

Birthday: November 23, 1929

Hometown: Blackpool

Bloodline:
Halfblood

Magical Strength (pick one):
Divination

Magical Weakness (pick one):
Transfiguration

Year (pick two): Fourth, fifth

Biography:
The room was all hardwoods (rosewood and walnut primarily, the warmer colours found in the teak chests and cherry cabinets), with dark, felted green splayed across the desk – the household was one of repetition, and Uncle Cyrus was a stout believer in disguising it as tradition.

Idle fingers combed through a pile of files on a walled bureau, tipped a couple of brass scales and spun a wheel of indefinable figures.

“Please don’t touch anything,” sounded a level voice behind him.

Turning, Thaddeus met his uncle’s gaze evenly. Cyrus Emsworth was a tight-lipped, perpetually overdressed man with a moustache that seemed out of place on his youthful face. At the moment he was standing, hands clasped behind his back, surveying his nephew with a look of quiet distaste on his face and an air of being too superior to make any mention of it.

Thaddeus, in turn, fished into his pocket for a fag, drawing out a faux silver cigarette case and clicking it open with nonchalant satisfaction.

“No smoking.”

They were empty words, smoke screens for the actual statement. It remained a silent demand, hanging unsaid in the air between them, caught between Thaddeus's wilful ignorance and his uncle’s stubborn patience: Get out.

With a glance at Cyrus, Thaddeus lowered the already picked-out smoke from his lips, only slowly recognising the authority. It was a dance he knew well, one he relished in, like a good boxing match; a subtle move to the left, a quick dive to the right a surprising uppercut that left sweat dripping from your nose while the opponent lay cringing on the floor.

Repetition could be beautiful if paired with adaptation, and Thaddeus decided on the subtle move to the left.

Discarding the cigarette on the green felt desk (golden Oxford lamp, 19th century letter organiser, demented barrister documents), Thaddeus surveyed his uncle, waiting for the right moment. A tic in the right corner of his mouth gave it away, and while Cyrus shifted awkwardly to the other foot, Thaddeus dived quickly to the right.

“For later. In case you should decide to indulge a little.”

His uncle looked as if a thousand standardised dissuasions came to mind but decided against them. Swallowing wasn’t healthy, Thaddeus decided as he brushed past his mother’s brother, a smirk tugging at his lips, entering the hallway to return to the original track. Running a distracted hand through his blonde hair, he pooled out onto the red, lush carpet of the main hall.

Then, waiting for his uncle to step close, he swung out a regal hand, indicating that Cyrus, as Thaddeus’ sudden guardian, deserved the respect and honour of walking in front.

Again, a shift in expression gave the 29-year-old away Cyrus; quickly browsing through a long range of dismissive statements, his features fell back into the ranks, and with an almost imperceptible sigh, he accepted his place in front and began walking. Along the way, the whiskey room, the second store bathroom and Thaddeus’s own bedroom were introduced (at least those were the venues he recalled later in the evening). Possibly, he’d been shown through cavernous places for taking dinner, card rooms, balconies (there had been a fresh wind whipping his face, but Thaddeus couldn’t for the life of him remember when or where; it could have been Uncle’s brisk remarks stirring up a wind, but then again, his wit wasn’t that refreshing) or the like, but when hard pressed, all that came back to the boy was the kitchen.

The kitchen was important. A maid had tried to hide her blush there, and he needed to remember how to return.

Thaddeus wouldn’t have called Rosewood Manor his first choice, but then again, orphans could hardly be choosers. His parents weren’t dead of course; simply too tired of his shenanigans to properly displace him or take the consequence and end their own miserable existences. Instead, they’d practically disowned him, sent him to his uncle for straightening out and asked him to stay away until he was able to make himself worthy of being seen at home again.

Worthy translated into properly respecting his mother’s nerves and agreeing to join a tedious family business, but those words were never used exactly.

So here he was, having to make do with his uncle.

A quirk of his lip, and Thaddeus lit a cigarette in lieu of a surprising uppercut.

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.

House Request: None

Personality: The crux of Thaddeus is his studious nature and his laziness. His inherent rebellious tendencies lead him to study only when he’s not asked to and most likely anything he isn’t supposed to be studying, knowing or interested in. He can be a horrendous brat, but he rarely cares about appearances anyway.

Appearance: Walking easily at a slight stoop, the long-haired boy wears glasses when he can’t be bothered to use other means of improving his impaired eyesight.

→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
Please reply to one of the Sample Roleplays below.

“Easy there, mate.”

Thaddeus gave the boy an easy smile, the kind that always came easy when he was about to light a cigarette. The Great Hall was crammed and it made Thaddeus ache for fresh air.

“I would, trust me, but magical photos move, and I’m not sure I’d want you shouting at me captured in a single frame for eternity.” Thaddeus waved a regal hand, closing his eyes in a ridiculously high-nosed fashion. He’d probably hate him too, if he’d been this kid.

Snubbing something undefined with the nose of his shoe, Thaddeus set off towards the staircase, without minding the boy with lunacy in his eyes. Madness spread with easy contagion, and Thaddeus had already had his fair share at dinner.

Stopping halfway towards the first step, however, he turned halfway, looking at the boy. Placing a single foot on the stairs, he said, “Perhaps you should get some fresh air yourself. Unless you hope to be noticed like that.”

→ ABOUT YOU.

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