31 Jan 2020, 03:08
Mentioning Massacres
Pipere was just finishing up on her meal in the Great Hall. By now she had grown very used to the room but never to the food. It always seemed to taste just a little bit different each time, just enough of a difference to keep her interested. But right now she was ready to be done so she could head back to her dorm to get ready for the following day.
As she took the last bite of her mashed potatoes she glanced around the room. Everyone looked both familiar and unknown because they all looked like they fit in Hogwarts yet she didn't know everyone well enough to call them friends. Pipere had her own share of friends, but no one too close. She had decided at the beginning of the year to take precautions, since she was going to meet a lot of people from different households, backgrounds, and bloodlines, especially the latter. Pipere had thought it was a joke but it was all too true that there were people at this school who took their blood status as seriously as life and death, as if it literally pained them to meet anyone less than a 'pure wizard'.
Suddenly irritated, Pipere stood up, signaling to the magic of the room that she was done. After pushing in her chair, her plate and cup disappeared to the kitchens so she could be on her way. She stood there with her arms crossed, waiting for her friends to finish up their conversations when her eyes wandered over to the Slytherin table. Well, not on purpose but these days the color green just stood out more to her ever since she had started taking Herbology seriously. Plants were everything now and green made her head turn.
Pipere and her friends were walking towards the doorway when they passed a group of boys. One of her friends blushed and stared at them. She was being so obvious that Pipere moved to nudge her—but then she heard a name that she thought she’d never hear again.
”Come off it, Tharaldson.”
Tharaldson. Her eyes bugged out as she strained her neck over the group of students so she could see just who this person was. It couldn’t be the same one knew. Actually, she didn’t know anyone by this name personally, but that didn’t make it any less mind-boggling.
She knew that name. The name echoed around her head as she stood with her friends again, who had decided to stop again to speak to someone. But that gave her enough time to search. Pipere found the boy who had called out the name, and he was speaking to a Slytherin with the...er, nicest pair of green eyes one could be born with. Pipere pursed her lips, not wanting to be caught staring but she couldn’t help but stare at the same time.
A long time ago her Aunt Diana, her mentor and the only history buff she knew personally, had told her stories about an old Scandanavian family who had feuded with their counterparts. The Tharaldsons and the Jordahls, Purebloods that had fought for the title ‘first settlers’, and it was terribly gruesome. Out of all the stories Pipere had been told for some reason the ending of this particular one had left a mark in her memory, a very bad one. The rivals tried to end things with peace by marrying one from each side but the day of the marriage the betroths were found dead. The result was the Massacre of Oslofjord. Her Aunt was known for her magnificent story-telling skills and images of wizards killed in the most gruesome of ways were burned into her mind...leaving her almost but not quite as traumatized as with the death of her father. See, she hadn’t witnessed the massacre but her father...his death was in the newspaper, his body was in the newspaper.
Pipere broke away from her group of friends, after saying her good nights, and hurried out of the Great Hall. When she wasn’t paying attention the boy had left and she really wanted to speak to him before curfew. Luckily he wasn’t too far down the hallway.
When she was a few feet away Pipere called out his name. ”Tharaldson,” she said. The name left an unusual taste in her mouth, but still she persisted. ”I know...of you.” Well, that wasn’t the best way to greet a Pureblood Slytherin.
@Erik Tharaldson
As she took the last bite of her mashed potatoes she glanced around the room. Everyone looked both familiar and unknown because they all looked like they fit in Hogwarts yet she didn't know everyone well enough to call them friends. Pipere had her own share of friends, but no one too close. She had decided at the beginning of the year to take precautions, since she was going to meet a lot of people from different households, backgrounds, and bloodlines, especially the latter. Pipere had thought it was a joke but it was all too true that there were people at this school who took their blood status as seriously as life and death, as if it literally pained them to meet anyone less than a 'pure wizard'.
Suddenly irritated, Pipere stood up, signaling to the magic of the room that she was done. After pushing in her chair, her plate and cup disappeared to the kitchens so she could be on her way. She stood there with her arms crossed, waiting for her friends to finish up their conversations when her eyes wandered over to the Slytherin table. Well, not on purpose but these days the color green just stood out more to her ever since she had started taking Herbology seriously. Plants were everything now and green made her head turn.
Pipere and her friends were walking towards the doorway when they passed a group of boys. One of her friends blushed and stared at them. She was being so obvious that Pipere moved to nudge her—but then she heard a name that she thought she’d never hear again.
”Come off it, Tharaldson.”
Tharaldson. Her eyes bugged out as she strained her neck over the group of students so she could see just who this person was. It couldn’t be the same one knew. Actually, she didn’t know anyone by this name personally, but that didn’t make it any less mind-boggling.
She knew that name. The name echoed around her head as she stood with her friends again, who had decided to stop again to speak to someone. But that gave her enough time to search. Pipere found the boy who had called out the name, and he was speaking to a Slytherin with the...er, nicest pair of green eyes one could be born with. Pipere pursed her lips, not wanting to be caught staring but she couldn’t help but stare at the same time.
A long time ago her Aunt Diana, her mentor and the only history buff she knew personally, had told her stories about an old Scandanavian family who had feuded with their counterparts. The Tharaldsons and the Jordahls, Purebloods that had fought for the title ‘first settlers’, and it was terribly gruesome. Out of all the stories Pipere had been told for some reason the ending of this particular one had left a mark in her memory, a very bad one. The rivals tried to end things with peace by marrying one from each side but the day of the marriage the betroths were found dead. The result was the Massacre of Oslofjord. Her Aunt was known for her magnificent story-telling skills and images of wizards killed in the most gruesome of ways were burned into her mind...leaving her almost but not quite as traumatized as with the death of her father. See, she hadn’t witnessed the massacre but her father...his death was in the newspaper, his body was in the newspaper.
Pipere broke away from her group of friends, after saying her good nights, and hurried out of the Great Hall. When she wasn’t paying attention the boy had left and she really wanted to speak to him before curfew. Luckily he wasn’t too far down the hallway.
When she was a few feet away Pipere called out his name. ”Tharaldson,” she said. The name left an unusual taste in her mouth, but still she persisted. ”I know...of you.” Well, that wasn’t the best way to greet a Pureblood Slytherin.
@Erik Tharaldson
31 Jan 2020, 05:52
Mentioning Massacres
As was usual around this hour you would find Erik in the Great Hall. He had just devoured his supper for the evening in the company of some fellow Slytherins. At the moment they were just talking and making fun of one another. Even though he was in a ,now slightly more familiar feeling, completely different country than where he was born at. He had quickly made some friends and he dared even say he had a bit of a reputation going on. This was something he took great pride in. After all, who didn't like to be known? Besides, he had earned it, if not because of the person he was then at least because of the family name he carried, that of Tharaldson. This was a name that was carried by only those who had pure blood running through their veins. His family was old, well known and respected back in Norway. Over here in Scotland not so much. Erik had since day one tried to rectify this and he had succeeded. Almost everyone in Hogwarts had heard about his name. Most certainly his fellow housemates and naturally those dull Gryffindorks.
The pureblood and his fellow peers were having a great time as a bunch of Gryffindork girls seemed to pass by their table on their way to the door of the Great Hall. It was very obvious that one of the girls was staring at them. Erik never leaving a chance to impress gave her his most charming smile to follow up by winking at her. Not even averting her gaze a red gloss formed rapidly on her cheeks as the girl blushed. This caused Erik's smile to only go wider as him and his fellows laughed at the girl. Come off it, Tharaldson. One of his peers said. I swear though! That Gryffindork is into me. Didn't you notice her stare at me the whole time? Whatever, man., his friend said as he dismissed it with a chuckle.
After sharing a few more laughs Erik departed as he bid them all a good evening as he walked out of the Great Hall and made his way into the hallway with his hands in his pockets and a slight smile still playing on his lips. From behind him, he suddenly heard hurried steps and an unfamiliar high voice calling out his name making him stop dead in his tracks. The werewolf turned around on his heels as he faced a small, blond breath takingly beautiful Gryffindork. An eyebrow quirked up in a quizzed look as he spoke. I'm sorry? Do I know you?
The pureblood and his fellow peers were having a great time as a bunch of Gryffindork girls seemed to pass by their table on their way to the door of the Great Hall. It was very obvious that one of the girls was staring at them. Erik never leaving a chance to impress gave her his most charming smile to follow up by winking at her. Not even averting her gaze a red gloss formed rapidly on her cheeks as the girl blushed. This caused Erik's smile to only go wider as him and his fellows laughed at the girl. Come off it, Tharaldson. One of his peers said. I swear though! That Gryffindork is into me. Didn't you notice her stare at me the whole time? Whatever, man., his friend said as he dismissed it with a chuckle.
After sharing a few more laughs Erik departed as he bid them all a good evening as he walked out of the Great Hall and made his way into the hallway with his hands in his pockets and a slight smile still playing on his lips. From behind him, he suddenly heard hurried steps and an unfamiliar high voice calling out his name making him stop dead in his tracks. The werewolf turned around on his heels as he faced a small, blond breath takingly beautiful Gryffindork. An eyebrow quirked up in a quizzed look as he spoke. I'm sorry? Do I know you?
Race: Werewolf
Abilities: Obnoxiously Strong
Stats: Sta: 8 Eva: 6 Str: 10 Wis: 6 Arc: 4 Acc: 6