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Archived Applications / Tala Bellestorm
« on: 06/08/2022 at 18:49 »

Application for Hogwarts School




→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.

Name: Tala Bellestorm

Birthday: September 21, 1950

Hometown: London, England

Bloodline: Pureblood

Magical Strength (pick one): Charms

Magical Weakness (pick one): Divination

Year (pick two): 5th, please. 4th, if necessary.

Biography:


NEW MOON WAXING GIBBOUS MOON


Tala Bellestorm was born in London, England, to Tomás Bellestorm and Azara Bellestorm-Moradi. Her father was a dogmatic businessman, having taken up the reigns of the family legal business from his own father some time before Tala’s birth. Her mother, by contrast, was a medicinal herbologist, with talents in potions, and a compassionate practice.

Tomás, a strict and well-educated man, wanted his daughter to be every bit as educated as he. From day one, he took a heavy hand in Tala’s education, and even now, there’s very little sign that his grip will ever loosen. An authoritarian, he began Tala’s education early through private tutoring. Tomás wanted to make sure his daughter would never have need or want to depend on a man. For anything. That she’d have everything she needed to survive on her own. Just like him.

Tala’s mother, Azara, who had moved from Iran to England as a toddler, had a quieter and gentler disposition to that of her husband. A nurturer by nature, she used her gift of herbology and potion-brewing for healing. She worked in St. Mungo’s from graduation, but resigned after Tala’s birth. Azara only continued her healing practice by aiding in her mother-in-law’s apothecary in London on a part-time basis, often bringing Tala with her. Azara is a supportive and warm parent to Tala, but bends to her husband’s rule, which is not lost on her daughter.

Tala’s birth into the world had never started as a blank slate. Her life had been meticulously and unyieldingly planned before she ever took her first breath.


WAXING CRESCENT


Growing up, Tala was a very serious, responsible, and independent child. With an innate ambition, sharp mind, and dogged perfectionism, she responded determinedly to her father’s rigid parenting.

Until, at eight-years-old, she unexpectedly took an interest in her mother’s line of work instead.

Tomás allowed his daughter’s interest in the healing arts to continue, considering it only a hobby or child’s fickle dabbling — as long as she kept what really mattered in mind (his goals).


FIRST QUARTER


When Tala was ten, just before she was to go to Hogwarts, her family moved.

Devastating to the young girl for two reasons. One, she’d already planned for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and had been anticipating that letter. Two, she had to separate from the boy next door, her best friend — her only friend — since before she could walk. They’d promised each other to write every day.

But these reasons meant very little to her father.

Tomás’s father, Roald Bellestorm, wanted his son back in Norway to take his place at the head of their Northern European office and continue to build in that region. Where Tomás was the ruler of his little family, Roald Bellestorm was the original authoritarian, and as Tala had no choice in the face of her father, nor would Tomás with his own.

But, in a rare instance, Tomás gave his daughter a chance to choose: Durmstrang Institute or Gokstad Academy.

Tala’s interest in the healing arts was not, as her father thought, a passing phase.

Her choice was obvious.

(The boy next door never did write to her. Not once.)


LAST QUARTER


For four years, Tala excelled in Gokstad Academy. Her social circle had not grown, but friends were not important — unless they could be utilized to achieve her ends. As the saying goes, Tala deliberately made herself an island in school. She retained her father’s — now becoming her own — rigorous self-discipline with her studies (her entire way of operating). Her ambitions had only grown higher with age. She knew exactly what she wanted, and had every intention of obtaining and being the best at it, regardless of who or what got in her way.

Even if that was her own father.

What she was not expecting, however, was being struck with a condition that would be entirely out of her control and go against everything she wanted to do.


FULL MOON


right after the attack
winter of 1965
gokstad academy


She’d seen.

Somewhere between the flashes of red hot pain and ice white stinging her eyes and teeth — she’d seen the differences.

The harsh lights of the Gokstad hospital wing lashed at her senses as much as the cold snow outside had. Voices rang off stone and metal. But somewhere between this, too, she caught a difference.

Citrus oils, parchment, Havana leaf. Her father. She latched onto it.

It’d been a blind reach, but her fingers had found and dug into her father’s arm. “Listen, it—" Her heart was erratic, and she swore she could feel the organ beat itself against the bones of her chest. Tala found her father’s eyes. She had the very same; an intense amber-brown.

The surrounding healers were working quickly. She could feel a heavy weight pull at her limbs, the nauseating pain at her thigh dull, and darkness creeped in at her peripheral.

“Listen to me,” She tried again. Her heart never calmed. She dug into that and pushed. “It wasn’t just a wolf.”


NEW MOON RISING


three weeks later
bellestorm famliy manor; norway


Tala rolled her shoulders uncomfortably, unable to forget how her bones had broken and then forcefully regrew. How her muscles and joints tore apart. Clenching her jaw, resolutely, only flashed her back to the popping sounds of it dislodging.

Blinking rapidly, Tala narrowed her eyes at the pile of clothes, pushed that night roughly to the back of her mind. She had been stubbornly cutting off every attempt by her brain to process it.

She focused back on the task at hand. (The task brought on by the very thing she was desperately trying not to let destroy her.)

Her room was bare, save for the neatly placed bags and trunk near the door. She hadn’t been allowed to go back to the school, and her parents had sent for her things, while she’d taken the necessary exams to pass her fourth year.

Now they were leaving. Back to England to enroll her in a school that had been denied to her years ago. The headmistress and school's House Heads and Potions professor had all been informed. They had made her registered with the Ministry. But that was it. That was enough.

She could barely stand the amount of people that knew now.  

Tala moved with an almost mechanical precision as she packed her last suitcase. Every single item she reached for tightened her jaw, her gaze becoming acutely brighter and harder with every shirt folded.

Everything — everything — she’d planned so very carefully and worked past exhaustion for, had shattered the second sharp, hot teeth had torn into her.

Tala leaned forward, and her teeth grit together at the sudden rush of pain. Her fingers spasmed over the textbook she had been reaching for. An incredible weariness dragged at her muscles and there was a deep ache in her bones. Jaw working, Tala rolled her shoulders again, winced at the previously snapped joints that were still healing.

It all had shattered to pieces.

But when she’d come to — from the bite, from the transformation — she refused to let the pieces just lie there. She wouldn’t let her father’s own ambitions get in the way of hers; she wouldn’t let this either.

By any means necessary.


→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.

House Request: Slytherin, pretty please.

Personality:
Tala is a teenage girl that was and still is being raised like a son might be traditionally. Her ambitions and self-control are paramount to who she is. She wants to be an accomplished healer of humans and now she has this force inside of her that wants to violently destroy them. It’s this internal war between the wolf and the girl she was that has a tendency to dictate her personality.

She’s very direct too blunt, highly ambitious, and driven. Takes a no-nonsense approach to life and often operates so by-the-book she can be insensitive. Tala does have a strong desire to help and fix things, but usually comes off too clinical.

But, despite her lack of bedside manner, she’ll get the patient expertly patched up and be the calm and pragmatic one in an emergency.

(Though, if near the full moon, she may also be the easily agitated and impatient one.)

Appearance:
Like her personality, Tala's appearance is sensible, almost immaculate. She looks very put together, with her hair pinned up and her uniform pressed and cleaned. Out of paranoia over her condition, she keeps her nails short and dull to the point they’re often filed down to the quick.


→ 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."



Roleplay Response:

After breakfast, Tala had gathered all the necessary materials into her cross bag before exiting the castle out onto the grounds. The only place Tala had found in the ancient structure that didn’t make her skin itch was the Hospital Wing. Everywhere else felt too closed in, too stuffy, too small. But something about the stark cleanliness and faint smell of astringent apple mixed with the acrid tinge of potions brewing in the air calmed her.

(She wasn’t ready to admit why she suddenly craved the open air, why she smell of soil and the sight of trees overhead helped her focus.)

Tala’s stride was quick and purposeful in the direction of the Groundskeeper’s Hut. It could have been the lake or the gardens that she chose as a studying spot; they were certainly more popular than behind the old hut nearest the dark forest. But that had been her entire reasoning. Fewer people, so she—

"You blasted rat! Where are you?”

—would not come across situations like that.

Tala’s walk slowed against her own personal preference, recognizing the tone of agitation in the boy’s voice. Her gaze went back toward her original path, gazing ruefully at the tree line before a large and wet sounding sneeze forced her attention fully back to the boy. She frowned. 

After some internal debate, Tala sighed and turned completely in the boy’s direction just as he looked right at her. (Regrettably, she had not missed just where he’d wiped that sneeze.)

Tala's lips parted, “I was going to—"

But then he snapped at her, and her lips pursed instead, thinning into a hard line. This was why she didn’t go to the more populated places. She had to breathe through her own agitation as it flared in her chest.

“Do you want help or not?” It came out tightly, her pitch flattening immediately.

With finding his rat (she presumed it was his, anyway) or potentially being ill, Tala meant to specify. But those were the only words that had made it past clenched teeth.



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