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Archived Applications / Nashira Nettlebed
« on: 05/08/2018 at 04:55 »
Application for Hogwarts School
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.
Name: Nashira Philyra Nettlebed
Birthday: 30th August 1940
Hometown: Born in London, lives in Bristol
Bloodline:
Muggleborn / Halfblood / Pureblood / Unknown
Magical Strength (pick one):
Divination / Transfiguration / Charms / Conjuring & Summoning
Magical Weakness (pick one):
Divination / Transfiguration / Charms / Conjuring & Summoning
Year (pick two): 4th, 3rd
Biography:
June 22nd, 1954
Foxe Farm
Foxe Farm
Nashira Nettlebed settled into her mother's office much as she had last time, with a box set of gobstones placed carefully in between them, aligned to be perfectly parallel to the side of the desk, about an inch away from the edge. She knew details like these didn't matter much to her mother, but when the conversation they were about to have was so important, Nashira would not leave anything to chance. When the set -- her best one -- was adjusted to her satisfaction, she retrieved the scroll of parchment nestled in her lap. Though her mother was not meant to read it herself, the words inscribed upon the sheet had been carefully scrawled in the caligraphy Nash had been so meticulously practicing over the past year. This one was her sixth draft.
Nashira cleared her throat, pale blue eyes glancing quickly up to study her mother's expression (impassable in its eternal patience, as usual) before they lowered back to the parchment.
"Dear mother," She began, carefully enunciating every word in an accent far more prim than the one she used on a daily basis. "For the past two years, you have been a wonderful teacher to me, and I am ever so grateful that, when I asked, you so readily accepted my request to be homeschooled. However, after two years of spending every day on the farm, of having no friends my own age when the only people around here are my little cousins, Rana, and the adults--" It was a struggle to keep away the grimace that would have so naturally etched itself upon her features. "--I have decided that it would be best to return to Hogwarts. I have friends there, now, and most of them don't think gobstones is gross or a bore or uncool."
Blue eyes peaked again over the edge of the parchment. Nashira wasn't often nervous, but the stakes tonight were too high for her emotions to sway any other way. Her mother remained impassable, but if Nash had to guess, she would have to say there was a glint of laughter in the woman's eyes… not something the thirteen year old particularly appreciated. Nevertheless, she persisted.
"Furthermore, as much as I appreciate your efforts, mother, Hogwarts employs the finest teachers in all the country, and I believe it would be to my greatest advantage to learn from the best of the best. Furthermore--" (She really should have caught that repetition. How tired had she been when she'd written that last draft, to think that was good enough?) "--the facilities, be they the library, the Hospital Wing, the Menagerie, the Gobstones clubhouse, the greenhouses, or, as Vega can no doubt corroborate, the potions storeroom, offer tools and supplies that simply cannot be matched by anything found at Foxe Farm.
"I am sure, mother, that you will understand my plight. However--" Another quick glance broke her rhythm. "--if you are unconvinced, I have brought along a set of gobstones--" Her free hand, without looking, was placed gently on the boxset, pushing it slowly toward the center of her mother's desk. "--in the event you would like to settle the matter over--"
This time it was Magda who interrupted her with a raised hand that at once put a stop to her daughter's monologue. "Nashira, plase," She sighed. "You don't need to make such a big deal out of this. If you want to go back to Hogwarts, that's fine. All you had to do was ask."
→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.
House Request: Slytherin
Personality:
Though one might take a quick glance at Nashira and see someone who seeks knowledge like a Ravenclaw, who works hard at her goals like a Hufflepuff, or who has the bald-faced boldness of a Gryffindor, when they make these links, they are ignoring the fact that each and every one of those qualities is the product of unwavering ambition. Nashira Nettlebed has a very clear idea of what she wants out of life, and at thirteen, she's already considering the effect every one of her actions will have thirty years down the line. Every book she reads, every act of kindness she shows, and every initiative she takes, are all meant to be the cause of some very specifically calculated effect.
Appearance:
There are good days when Nashira's blue eyes peer into the mirror and see that, for once, her hair is exhibiting even the slightest wavy curl. Most days, though, it's lying flat on her head, straight from blonde root to blonder tip. Thin and lacking in volume, it requires constant attention to keep it from looking drab and dirty by the end of the day. Her face is dominated by plump lips, forever pouting in a perpetual air of boredom, that seem almost too large to fit the rest of her face, specially the short nose lost in-between a pair of high cheekbones and shadowed by a stern brow. Though she's no more than average in height, Nash's skinny limbs, pockmarked with constellations of beauty marks, make her look a lot taller than she actually is. She usually dresses in black, preferring the versatile way the shade can look both professional and casual all at once.
→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character. Remember, you can only roleplay your own character's actions, not Evangeline's or Hugh's.
Option 2:
That rat of his was in for it now.
The gray little rascal had disappeared from his clutches at breakfast. Again.
Before Hugh even knew what was happening, Merlin had shot across the floor, somehow managing to avoid all the feet walking across the hall and had escaped through the open doors.
Which meant that Hugh was now stomping through rows of flowers and other various flora, searching for the small creature. It was like the rat knew Hugh was allergic to most flowers. Merlin always chose to run to the gardens whenever he got away from Hugh. It was as if the rat did not want to have him for an owner.
Hugh had named his pet Merlin because he had hoped the powerful name would give the rat more incentive to be more than a rat. Not that he expected Merlin to change into a wizard or anything, but rats were just so...useless, for the most part. With a name like Merlin, Hugh thought it might give the rat purpose.
The only purpose Merlin seemed to have was getting away from Hugh as often as possible.
As the fifth year trudged into the second row of flowers, not taking much care to avoid trampling the first row, he felt the first sneeze building up pressure in his nose and behind his eyes.
"You blasted rat! Where are you?"
He pulled apart a section of bright red flowers; he didn't know what they were called because he despised flowers, and ducked his head low to peer into the depths of the flowerbed. It was moving closer in proximity to the flowers that finally did it. Hugh took in three great breaths and then let out an almighty sneeze. It was strong enough to disturb some of the dirt on the ground before him.
Groaning, he stood up again and wiped his nose on his sleeve. It was as he was turning his head, his nose running up and down his arm, that movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Normally one who preferred to put his best face forward, Hugh was a bit embarrassed to be caught wiping his runny nose on his robes.
Nevertheless, Hugh put on his best haughty voice. albeit a bit thickly with his plugged nose and said, "Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare."
Nashira Nettlebed had made a point not to look at the boy. In her experience, people who mumbled and grumbled at the grass were better off avoided. Nonetheless, her jaunt through the gardens brought her in his vicinity, though hopefully not close enough that she caught whatever bug he was so eagerly spreading.
Though she didn't look his way, her lips curled into a scowl at the sound of his sneeze. From the corner of her eyes, she could tell that he hadn't made the slightest effort to cover his mouth.
How--
"Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare."
--rude.
Her footsteps came to an abrupt stop. Eyes narrowed to slits, Nash turned her daggering gaze upon him, her hair flicking over her shoulder as she did. "Excuse me?" Came her indignant response. Her eyebrows were knitting close together as her consternation rose.
"I was not staring -- you're not worth it even on a good day -- but if we really need to discuss what's not polite, maybe we should start by sneeze etiquette. Cover your damn mouth." If she'd had a handkerchief handy, she would have chosen that moment to throw it at him. Given that she had no such prop, she settled instead for crossing her arms.
→ ABOUT YOU.
Please list any characters you have on the site (current and previous): Marina Lamont, Wit Northcutt, Leona Mathenjwa, Joshua Mulligan
How did you find us?: From the ezboard days
