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Dallas Ford

    (26/08/2024 at 18:14)
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Application for Hogwarts School




→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.

Name: Dallas Bee Ford

Birthday: February 15th, 1961, 10:07 pm

Hometown: Las Vegas, Nevada

Bloodline: Muggleborn

Magical Strength (pick one): Divination

Magical Weakness (pick one): Transfiguration

Year: 1st, 2nd

Biography:

Dallas Ford was raised in cheap apartments, motel rooms, and flashy casinos.

Tonight she was sat in the formermost, watching the clock more than the television channel her mom had left playing. Have fun, she'd suggested, conspiratorially, as if sitting up here was just as exciting as what the pair of them were off to do.

She never knew when to expect an invitation. Sometimes, when they were coming off a big win, they'd bring her with them, it was a special occasion. Sometimes, when they were feeling especially unlucky, she'd come as a charm. Sober or drunk, the Fords always found a reason to, or not to, gamble with their kid.

This was one thing she'd stopped looking for patterns in.

It was past eleven, and she hadn't eaten since their early afternoon breakfast of eggs with shredded cheese. Most days her parents came home late and slept in, if they came home at all. They were good at losing things—time, money. They were good at winning things, too—card games, sports bets, and her affection, though it so rarely went missing

"Hey, Little Lady"

The door to their apartment was pushed open. She jumped from her spot on the floor, wrapped in a blanket she'd stolen off her parent's bed.

"Dad! Mom!"

"Miss Lady Luck," lilted her mother, holding her alcohol in the looseness of her walk and the sing-song of her voice. Her father, just as drunk, held his only in a softer smile.

He sat down on the couch and beckoned her over. Her mother was standing over a rickety table, counting, then recounting, the wad of bills she'd pulled from her purse. Her fingers smelled like money. The rest of her smelled like cigarette smoke. Dallas caught the familiar scent, soothing more than jarring, on her way across the room.

Her dad leaned forward and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Hold on—What's this?"

Dallas turned to come eye-to-eye with the red poker chip pinched between his thumb and pointer, and giggled. She felt it drop into her open palm and quickly closed her fingers around the little disc, pressing any leftover luck into her skin.

"We did good tonight, Darling. Like you wouldn't believe. I'll bring you back a couple more of them tomorrow."

She nodded, aware that I'll bring you back also meant you're not coming. Knowing how often and easily her parents' minds—and luck—changed, she wouldn't place a bet either way.



→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.

House Request: Ravenclaw

Personality: Dallas grew up being let down. Repeated broken promises from her parents left her easy to please and hard to disappoint, making her sudden involvement in the Wizarding World all the more magical. Rather than turn jaded, Dallas learned some days were for entertaining herself, and some were for enjoying her parents' doting adoration. It did no one good thinking one was better than the other; she'd take the days as they'd come.

Independent, imaginative, and quick-witted, Dallas enjoyed her fast-paced, unpredictable life along the Strip. She loves a good game, especially when bets are involved. From her mother, she learned how to play smart—when to raise, where to look for patterns, and how to size up an opponent. She absorbed her father's superstitions, learning how to guard her own luck and how it felt when the odds were—or weren't—in her favor.

Dallas believes in fate, but not in its inability to be tweaked. Some things are predetermined, and some depend on your karmic standing. To make sure she's always getting the best deal, she lives by what she considers the Overarching Rules of the Universe. And she'll insist you do, too.

Appearance: Dallas is tall for her age at 5'1 with lanky limbs, a mix of her father's height and her mother's size, exaggerated by a family tendency to skip a meal—or two, or three. Her face is slim, plain, and a little hollow. More striking is her deep, dirty blonde hair that tinges copper in direct light. She wears it long, quietly afraid that within frizzy waves lies some fraction of luck she can't cut loose. Armed for Hogwarts with cheap toiletries and a frequently misplaced brush, Dallas tends to look a little rough around her edges.
Face Claim: Anna Francesca



→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.

Option I:

Dallas had lost one of two die in her pair, important not because she thought them especially lucky (they'd yet to prove themselves in that regard), but because they'd been a gift from her parents—

           "Don't forget us back here in Vegas."

           "Okay. But don't forget me out there in England."

—something to remember them by. It must have fallen out of her pocket between classes, or on her way to investigate the Kitchen and its elves she'd heard were hidden behind a portrait in the Dungeon. She hadn't noticed until she'd gone to put the two dice side-by-side on her nightstand and come up one short. For the past sixteen minutes, she'd been wandering the castle, dutifully retracing her steps.

As she turned another corner, came, "Hello! Is Emma Birch here?"

"No, she's not." She answered with confidence—too much confidence, perhaps, for someone who had never met an Emma Birch, and thus, had no knowledge of her whereabouts.

"Well—I'm not her, at least," she corrected.

For all her mother and father talked about cues and tells, Dallas couldn't make whether the girl was jumpy with excitement, fear, or just the urge to leave. She stuck out her hand, never eager to cut a conversation short. Things happened for a reason.

"I'm Dallas."



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* Roisin Byrne

    (26/08/2024 at 23:50)
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Dear Miss Ford ,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Term begins on 1 September. Currently, students have gathered at Camp Loki, and we encourage you to spend your summer there. Should you choose, you may also visit our Elsewhere board via the Floo Network to visit or purchase school supplies.


Yours sincerely,

Hufflepuff Head of House
♥ ♥ ♥ sometimes love is not enough

and the road gets tough

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