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Post by Teresa Margarite Poole on Mar 1, 2023 18:57:08 GMT -7
teresa margarite POOLE
WAND Rowan wood with a phoenix feather core, 12 ¾ and reasonably supple flexibility.
APPEARANCE Terry is of average height, standing about 5'5" on a good day. She has mousy blonde hair and a fair complexion dotted with moles. With green eyes and a stern mouth, people often assume Terry is miserable, even when she is not. She has a port wine birth mark on her right shoulder in the shape of a wonky tree. Sometimes, if Terry is tired, she might be found wearing a pair of discreet reading glasses, though godforbid you remind her. | pronunciation teh-ree nickname almost exclusively referred to as 'terry'. only called teresa if she is in trouble. teresa margarite if she's already deceased and stiff. age & birthday 24 29th December 2003 gender & pronouns female she/her blood status muggleborn sexuality pansexual face claim elizabeth olsen. | |||||||||||||||||||||||
PERSONALITY Terry is a logical thinker, through and through. She has always been the serious sort, with a permanent frown line between her brows and a purse to her lips. Terry has very rarely done anything impulsive, or thoughtless in her entire life. It was more likely that she will think about each decision so thoroughly that she can appear slow to the draw. She does not like to be rushed into an action that can have a serious consequence for herself or others. Though she enjoys the bustle of her job, she knows what she is doing. Terry hates to feel blindsided, in fact cancel any surprise party planned as she’s likely to hate it. With a natural love of intellectual challenges, she’s a keen studier and loves a good non-fiction book. She thrived at Hogwarts, and hates any kind of failure. With her stern expression and shrewd thoughts, Terry can come across as somewhat judgemental at times. It has found her few friends, her inability to ‘play along’, and her urge to question everything. She picks apart the simplest of encounters, and its found her an enemy here and there. Terry is not an immediately likeably person. She has a dry sense of humour and a habit of correcting people. While perhaps not typically sunny, Terry is also incredibly kind. She would give up her last galleon to somebody in dire need. Is prone to saving dying plants from shop windows and rubbish bins. Will speak in the softest French babble to her Kneazle, Mags, and has taken up the teaching of a free first aid healing class held at the local health centre in Hogsmeade. She cannot help her compassion, even when it frustrates her. She hates confrontation and can almost be construed as cowardly, as she has a habit of walking away from a fight she is likely to lose. Get on her good side, Terry is a friend for life. Cross her once, she is very unlikely to forgive. She holds a mean grudge. ORIGIN & RELATIONS Raised between Greenwich in London, and Brussels, with her grandparents. Father - Edward Joseph Poole – GP Mother - Manon Chloé Poole nee Bois – Pharmacist Older brother – Edward Matis Poole – 29 – 1999 - Muggle/Magical Liaison for Medical Referrals and Research. Younger brother – Samuel Joseph Poole – OPEN, age must align with Terry as they are ‘Irish twins’. Aug 31st 2004 Younger sister – Mathilde Manon Poole – STUDENT approx. 15 – 17 Beloved Kneazle - Ms. Margaery Maybell (Mags for short.) HISTORY Teresa was born in Brussel’s by her French mamé Teresa Margarite Bois. A woman of stern and unflappable disposition, she reportedly sat her daughter down on the conservatory floor on a cold winters morning with a handful of hot towels and told her quite astutely to breathe while they waited for the ambulance to arrive. It did not, in fact, arrive before Teresa was pushed forth into the world. She found that fact fascinating as a child, that she could be birthed in such an informal manner. Her mamé thought it perfectly acceptable, did Teresa not think her own namesake capable of delivering her own grandchild? Teresa stopped thinking it so fantastical in the face of such fierce logic. Apart from her atypical birth, it was worth mentioning that upon arriving at the hospital in her mother’s arms, the doctors soon discovered something quite unique about the newborn. She was born with the rare genetic condition ‘Situs Inversus’, her organs a mirror of the typical human anatomy. They joked that she was born upside down, but Teresa had always found it a strange thing. Another way she was just a little odder than her peers. She was a second child of the Poole family, her older brother already talking and walking quite typically by the time Teresa arrived. He had been born in the hospital in London, by professionals and not grandparents. He liked to tease his sister about this when she was old enough to understand her quirks. Before Teresa was even three months old, Manon Poole and her husband Edward would have taken their children back to Greenwich in London. Though Manon had been born and raised in Brussel’s, she had met her husband Edward while studying pharmacology in London. They would marry young and have their first son soon after Edward took up his position as a GP. The domestic type, much to their peer’s chagrin. Edward was a Brit Lad through and through, no doubt about that. Unexpectedly, it would be no less than three months after Teresa’s birth that Manon would discover she was pregnant once again. A minor slip, blindsiding the family and embarrassing mamé terribly. They would call Samuel a ‘happy little accident’, telling Teresa that he must have been her twin brother. A lazy little boy who simply didn’t want to leave Manon’s belly with her in December. She took this quite seriously as an infant, her brother born in autumn just as Teresa had begun to grow into herself. Teresa and Samuel would be raised side-by-side, ‘twins’ to the bitter end. They may well have been, mirroring one and other in more ways than one. If Teresa decided she hated broccoli, so did Samuel. If Samuel wanted the trainers with the wheels in the heels, well Teresa must as well. It went as such until they were in school, and they began displaying even odder behaviour. Teresa grew fascinated by plants and botany. Samuel drifted to other, more active displays of magical affinity, like accidentally setting off the fire alarm. Their older brother was no different, and received his Hogwarts letter first, inviting him to study the magical arts as a ‘muggleborn’ wizard. It took the family by surprise, though Teresa Bois insisted magic ran in the family some centuries before. Teresa and Samuel followed soon after, though she boiled with jealousy as she waited to receive her own letter of admission. Sending letter after letter to Eddie insisting he send back all he was permitted to, to prepare her for her eventual studies. Samuel seemed more subdued, quite happy to piss around the footy pitch with his muggle mates, as they were growing Teresa and Samuel’s differences were becoming more apparent. Her ’twin’ brother was much more of a social sport. Teresa struggled socially, finding she had very little patience for fools and was often picky and difficult about spending time with her peers. By the time the two were preparing for their first year at Hogwarts, Teresa had already decided her brother was the stupidest boy she’d ever known. He wanted a broom, and the clunkiest cauldron. Teresa gravitated towards the companion animals in the menagerie and the books in Flourish. She encountered her first magical plant while in Diagon. The potions shoppe bartering live ingredients from a dirty window, the plants limp and tired looking. Teresa spent the rest of the day thinking desperately that they would die if not given proper natural light. Her father, the softest of them all, took her back as the light faded and let her pick one to ‘save’. She used the cuff of her jumper to try and clean the window while he paid for it, leaving a streaky ring of circles where the light could enter unfettered. Saying a semi-tearful goodbye to her mother and youngest sibling, the two Poole’s headed off with their brother on to the Hogwarts Express. Samuel made fast friends, but Teresa was far more tentative. She sat alone, a little slip of a girl drowning in her robes. Fortunately, nothing could have prepared Teresa for the wonder of Hogwarts. It awoke in her a great hunger for magic that did not cease, the magnificence so alluring she couldn’t help but be pulled by it. Her keen intellectual mind finding her in Ravenclaw. She was still quiet, a studious thing that could most often be found with her nose in a book, or up to her elbows in soil. She thrived in Herbology and Potions, taking a special interest in a History of Magic. It was all brand new to her, but she found a special talent among magical plants. Surrounded by nature infused with a constant flow of magic, the Herbology professor saw in Terry an innate ability around the plants in the greenhouses. How they seemed to reach toward her, how she always knew just the right amount of soil to put in each of their pots. When queried about it, Terry had no answer, anxious in the spotlight. She simply shrugged and explained that it was like a gut instinct. How she imagined if they could talk, they could tell her exactly what they needed. She was soon a suspected ‘Naturalist’, research deeming that she very well might have an extra sensitivity to botany. She was encouraged to pursue it, but Terry wouldn’t be boxed in. As the years went by, Terry found her niche at Hogwarts in her studies. She passed each of her classes with flying colours and rarely stepped a foot out of line. It was perfectly acceptable, as her brother had a way of making something of a fool of himself. Nobody really knew who ‘Terry Poole’ was. The mousy girl with dirt on her clothes and a sour look on her face. In fact, people often would question how on earth she and Sammy were even related. She despised this line of questioning, as if being loud made him better than her. The siblings were still somewhat close, but in a far less co-dependent manner than when they were much younger. They drifted in their school years, Terry somewhat resentful and Sammy perhaps a little embarrassed. Over time, some might say the great shine of her brother made Terry grow into herself. She had a few friends, of course, but nothing spectacular. She worried at times that people spoke only to her to get an in with her popular brother. She worked poorly in groups, and had a way of starting arguments with a simply snide look. This didn’t stop Terry from becoming a Prefect in her Sixth and Seventh year at Hogwarts. She took pride in the pin, and used it to her own advantage at times, taking books from the Restricted Section and delving deeper into the study of potions. If only to send word back to her only friend in Brussels, who was a keen potioneer too. In her Seventh year, Terry found a special interest in the study of Healing potions and charms. The complexity of it lured her in. Rather than succumb to the expected career of Herbologist, she found the study far too draining over time. Plants had a way of bleeding her dry with too much exposure to the hungry and ailing. Instead, she stuck close to the Hogwarts Healer, nosing over their shoulder as they treated Quidditch wounds and answered all of her voracious questioning. Perhaps her interest was rooted in a deep concern for the rising tensions among some pureblood elitists and muggleborns. How they were sometimes seen as ‘lesser than’ because they came from backgrounds lacking a magical lineage. She thought of how she might protect her own, and others. Her father and mother, after all, were both in medical adjacent careers and her older brother had gone on to graduate under a similar vein. It felt natural when she had her meeting with her Head of House, that she might choose to pursue a career as a mediwizard once she graduated. When they idea took root, it stayed rather firmly. Terry and Sammy came to blows in their seventh year only once. As word of muggleborns became rampantly negative in areas, Terry insisted they keep their heads down. Sammy, however, vehemently disagreed. He informed her that he planned to join the Order of the Phoenix once he graduated, lobbying for better opinion of muggleborns and a rounding up of those purebloods who spoke ill of them. A misfit attempt by the teens at Hogwarts to fight a battle they had no place fighting. Terry had a rational brain, not a passionate one. She knew what a group like that meant, it meant a target on their backs. They fought viciously about it, falling into an icy silence well into their final year. Terry didn’t speak to him until their graduation, where he extended a very tentative olive branch and she took it only because it was in their best interest that she did. The twins were never quite the same after that, Terry holding a bitter grudge at the words they had exchanged. ‘Coward’, she remembered him calling her. It stung well into adulthood. Following graduation, Terry began her studies as a mediwizard. She liked the fast pace and the complex learning environment. Loved nothing more than the feeling of ‘thinking on your feet’ and applying all that knowledge proactively. She poured her heart and soul into her studies, though the news worried her. Multiple attacks on muggleborns reaching the Prophet and Terry couldn’t help but hear the whispers at St. Mungos. An old disdain rising, rumours of a group of purebloods banding together to ‘rid’ Hogwarts of the muggleborn students. She couldn’t think about it, couldn’t even consider it at the time. She was afraid. Terry had never been the fighting type, she’d had Sammy to fight all her battles for her. She worried he’d gone and joined the Order after all. They didn’t talk about it, afraid they’d stop talking entirely again if he said yes. Terry was a studying Mediwizard when they terrorist attack hit King’s Cross station. She tended to the wounded. Patching horrific wounds and sending the ones that could be salvaged in stasis to St. Mungos. It was the worst day of her life; she’d never really seen so much death quite so close at hand. It was her first assignment without the moniker of ‘student’ to keep her at arm’s length. They needed her help. The experience changed Terry beyond recognition. She had been afraid before, tiptoeing around her own lineage lest it get her in trouble. As if she was a little ashamed of being a muggleborn. After seeing so many wounded, magical and muggle alike, it changed her outlook entirely. She became jaded, angry. She no longer felt ashamed of herself, but of those who thought it necessary to hurt those who had no control over their lineage. Though determined to help in any way she could, Terry still kept her head down. She was not the type to find a soap box to stand on. She’d rather leave that to her egotistical brother. Instead, she read up on special healing stasis charms and kept dittany on her at all times – her own special homemade kind. And the burn paste she’d made from scratch. Her teachers saw a change in her then, how she seemed to glow with an almost restless anticipation. She completed her studies as a medizwizard and took a job at St. Mungos immediately. Though she felt restless, she liked to keep an eye on her family. Her father was getting older, considering retirement. And her older brother was climbing the ranks at the ministry as a medical liaison officer. And her youngest sibling wasn’t long to start at Hogwarts themselves. She had to ensure they were safe in any way she could manage. Quietly, as she lived her life. With blood purists running rampant, Terry was never far away from a job at hand. Though as time grew and tensions rose, she found herself fatigued by it all. By the time of 2025 and the outbreak of Hag’s Fever, Terry was well and truly disillusioned by wizarding Britain. She was on a personal assignment in Brussels when the country went into a magical quarantine. This left her adrift for quite a while. She took refuge with her grandparents, finding assignments in the South of France to keep herself busy as a respected mediwizard. By the time the quarantine was lifted, Terry had grown quite fond of her position close to Beauxbaton as she liaised with the Healers there and at their magical hospital. It was a much larger range, and as her grandparents were getting older she felt no rush to hurry back home. Things were not great, but they had Sammy, after all. Terry spent the following three years travelling all over Europe and honing her skills as a healer. She found niche healing potions and practices which were individual to each new place she worked. The opportunities were endless, and her confidence grew with the greater scope of learning. She had a careful, keen eye and was often complimented on her ability to mesh different styles and spells to create her own specific practice for healing. Her burn paste was something of a roaring success among fellow healers, with its increased healing time and cooling agents. And the plants loved her, everywhere she went they seemed to preen in her presence. She heard word of the fire at Hogwarts through owl alone, and though it sickened her, she was relieved to know that her sister was safe and well. She’d gone to Beauxbaton to study for the year while they repaired and restored the castle. Terry couldn’t help, deep down, but feel a fizzle of relief that she had missed the great battle. She had never been much for war, after all. She couldn’t help but recall that awful attack on King’s Cross, how she’d seen familiar faces crushed in pain. She did not think she would enjoy a repeat. She visited her sister often while she studied in Europe, the ease of their French tongue strengthening with good use. But alas, she did return once word arrived of the grand reopening. Though sometime in mid-2027, Terry ceased all of her travels and returned to Brussels. Her papy became ill with a sudden stroke, leaving her mamé inconsolable. That once strong woman defeated by grief. Terry stayed by their side, tending to the garden and the day to day chores. Papy didn’t make it, never fully recovering and passing rather peacefully, despite all of Terry’s keen interventions. The family sent him off with great fanfare, though it was a significant loss. Terry stayed behind to help her mamé collect herself and adjust to the loss of her partner in life. Terry had never been a great believer in soulmates, or true love, it had just never really occurred to her. She was not the romantic sort, but seeing her mamé struggle so sincerely made her revaluate how she quantified human connection. Not even two months passed when Terry found her beloved mamé still in her bed, having passed during the night. The woman who had brought her rather abruptly into the world was no longer with her. Terry struggled with the loss, unable to justify how she could not save two of the most important people in her life. She felt adrift from the loss, and once the family saw her buried with her husband and the affairs all in order, Terry returned to Britain once more. She felt at a loss suddenly, no longer keen to live as a solo traveller. She wanted to be close to the people she loved, to her family and the few friends she had left behind. Taking up her previous position as a mediwizard at St. Mungos, Terry moved in to a flat with lots of plants, a familiar roommate and adopted a rather uppity Kneazle with a keen nose for rot. SITE EVENTS REACTION Site events integrated into the history above. WANT AD
OOC
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