Post by ANDRIES VAN DER HAVEN on Mar 22, 2016 15:16:30 GMT
Andries van der haven
Male | 18 |
Dutch | Bi |
189cm | 82kg |
pureblood | |
personality
Tall. intelligent, efficient, and generally off-putting, Dries doesn’t hide behind decorum or pleasantries. Most people would name him rude. He calls it direct. What’s more, he’s entirely unopologetic about it. About that, and anything else, really.
Combining a devil-may-care attitude with cool and calculating composure, most of his achievements appear to be gained rather effortlessly. It’s a half-truth he finds needless to challenge. He can apply himself with rigorous focus and discipline, but not because he values the virtue of hard work especially. Competence is held in much higher esteem. He just wants the best result of whatever he’s after in the shortest timespan possible.
There is a surprising, almost deceptive ease to his gestures and movement, which, while loose and unhurried, are executed with startling precision and economy, and often to great effect. He has a dignified set to his shoulders that speaks of knowing consecutive victories and accomplishments and taking some measure of pride in them. Don’t expect any false modesty here.
His words may be delivered with a sense of indifference or carelesness when not made to persuade , yet tend to be concise and far from heedless. The message might just not be high on the list of things one wants to hear. His voice is deep, a rough edge lightly grazing it, but it isn’t loud. He barely ever raises it beyond normal volume. One could even say it’s quiet, if it werent for its resonance that easily carries across a room. While he may sound generally dismissive to most, the observant listener may instead catch a multitude of subtle intonations aside from the more obvious mocking lilt he tends to entertain.
While not soothing or melodic, his voice isn’t unpleasant to listen to, as it’s calm and weighty.
He’s known to be materialistic, with a penchant for deal-brokering and business management. Exceptional at risk calculation and prospecting he didn’t waste a moment after turning eighteen to issue changes to the family company he was now legally a part of. He has every intention of becoming the one in charge and he’s not covert about it.
While some may attribute a certain forwardness in this regard to his youthful age, Andries is instead vastly worried about the company future –and thus of their bankaccounts- seeking to expand and rescue it from misanagement, and what he believes, will be a slow and painful death. He wouldn’t bother quite as much if it werent for his sister’s emotonial attachment to it and his little brother’s future as it turned out not –all- the company books had been shown to him prior his coming of age. He needs to turn the tide, and he needs to turn it fast.
While for many a personal business may conjure of romantic images as it to be a passionate labour of love and emotional investment, the lot of Dries’s future companies will be build entirely for the reason to sell them off after they turn a profit to ensure future capital for other, even greater ventures. He entertains the idea of building a large, innovative company he may wish to keep as a pet project, but is as of yet undecided about it.
For now however, graduation is just a little higher on his impressive to-do list.
While he occasionaly flies into the face of authority (some rules are simply too ridiculous or uneccesary to abide) his natural confidence, scarily consistent grades and apt skills grant him an aura of maturity and perpetual proffesionalism. Teachers therefore rarely truly dislike him despite coming across as aloof or disinterested. Here’s a guy, who somehow, makes it all work and leaves everyone to wonder just how exactly he does it while still having ample free time.
As robust as his skills are in organization and goal-getting, his ability to build personal contacts leaves a bit to be desired, to say the least.
Some of his peers may wonder if the tall Dutchman is worried about breaking his face. Little emotion or expression seems to touch it at all, save for smug smirks and scowls of scorn that adorn otherwise handsome features.
When it does, it can often only be told by the look in his eyes, which seem to a stranger only minutely, and thus perhaps, meaninglessly changing.
While Andries is not particularly bothered by a lack being liked by others, he is not entirely without the want of friends, something his complex and forceful nature tend to make nigh impossible.
To Dries, in his mind at least, friends are assets, not mystical unicorns bathed in unconditional love and light that tend to vaporize with the slightest cast of a shadow.
If you can’t be of use to each other, why bother? The widely progagated but rarely followed through upon pact of camaraderie people gush over all too often has obscure fine print and passages of broad interpretation he finds tiring and deceptive.
He prefers people to state what they want clearly rather than casting veiled looks of hurt, venom, anger or –damn it all- disappointment his way and expecting him to atone and fix it.
While it’s not that he can never understand the misgivings people, or ‘friends’ may have about him, he finds most of them entirely invalid. They are not his problem to deal with but theirs.
It’s this lack of empathy, or rather, sympathy, that makes most people call him callous or ruthless and so unamicable and hard to be or deal with. He is frank in his criticism and reserved in his praise.
It’s baffling to Dries that someone would turn down a partnership over mutual goals and gains with him just because they ‘don’t like him’ just as he can’t really imagine people being kind or helping him out just for the sake of it without reason or expecting anything in return.
In truth, he is in want of real friends just like any other (ok maybe slightly less) but while he doesn't think of himself as a lonely person, it is mostly a mindtrick he plays on himself.
One of his greatest faults is that when he is hard pressed, he's unlikely to ask for help. He's fine with trivial things, just not when it matters. The kind where he's in a pinch and needs a favour. If someone does help him he considers the magnitude of the aid, and turns it into a debt to be repaid.
He doesn't apologize either, even if he regrets something, or is on the wrong side of things or made a mistake, having a misplaced idea about weakness and strength.
Dries isn’t openly distrusting, that's a little boring and very energy consuming. Aside form that, it tends to offend too much, hampering agreements, but he does re-evaluate people all the time. He gives them the benefit of the doubt once. After that, all bets are off and it's hard to get back into his good graces.
Because Dries is rarely seen on the losing end of things, it is thought that he must frequently cheat or use dirty tacticts to keep it this way, though actual evidence of it is far and between.
While he walks the grey line in many aspects, he’s very careful not to cross it. Or at least, not too often, and certainly not when it can trace back to him too easily.
As any truly smart man knows, the real currency of the businessworld is trust, and nothing will sink you faster than a tarnished reputation.
And trust he can inspire. If not in his moral integrity, then still in his capabilities and the faith in his ever present ambition to come through.
One could say Andries is sparse with just about everthing. Expression, money, words, respect, motion and care of any kind. The latter, he reserves almost exclusively for his pet bunny and his siblings, whom he loves very much.
In the presence of his siblings Dries is a changed man. He is kind to them, though kind and nice are not always the same thing, and he becomes notably more lenient and patient, evening opening up a little just at the sight of them. He’s very protective, perhaps too much, and worries about how te world treats and impacts them. This causes him to launch pre-emptive strikes on occasion to clear obstacles out of the way they never knew were there, not to mention retaliating if someone slighted them (though he often can't know when they are)He sometimes meddles a bit too much in (Char)Lotte’s affairs, despite her being a grown woman already.
Andries is fascinated with Alchemy, for reasons that need little stating. Perhaps more surprising is that he is also rather fond of herbology. Even more astonishing is that plants, even difficult ones, thrive under his care rather than wither. He has a first edition of Winogrand’s Wondrous Water Plants and likes experimenting with the submerged green-growing-things to hopefully create and invent new potions.
Aside from the aforementioned, there is one thing he loves most.
Sailing. A staple passtime of his childhood, he loves water and adores the sea. Being in or on open water is a balm of comfort. Not that he needs any. Of course.
He also loves swimming and diving and can hold his breath for a substantial amount of time underwater, which once gave another student the impression that he had drowned.
Dries likes to help with the maintenance of the Durmstrang ship that transports the students, despite it not being a traditional sailing vessel. Since the ship is not much in use, it’s hardly ever a necessity, and more a way to pass time in relative peace.
He does ice-diving to train endurance and fortitude, Durmstrang being more forward in demanding physical fitness of their students. In warmer waters he freedives, with both dynamic and static breathing. In case of static breathing he is not interested in pushing himself to limits as much as a way to disconnect from the world. He doesn’t lie face down in the water either, rather he’s upright with his arms outstretched. Sometimes he lies down or sits on the ground but it’s rare.
He slows his heart-rate and enters a trance-like state without moving, which can look rather eerie. Since bracycardia and oxygen deprival can cause blackouts, causing him to drown, he always has someone with him to watch over him with specific instructions in case of static-breathing.
He knows quite a number of scuba spells, having followed a course in the Red-Sea once, but while not useless, they were acquired out of interest rather than practicality.
Familiar: A grey-brown Netherland dwarf rabbit called ‘Stuyvertje’ that he got from his sister Charlotte. Thinking it a bad form of mockery at first, he’s since become very attached to her.
She’s tiny, fluffy, and darts from place to place with uncanny speed, though getting on in years. Usually, however, she’s content lounging with her master, wriggling between the buttons of his dress shirt and taking residence on his chest while her ears pop-up when she chooses to peek out. In general she likes it best to sleep or rest in the proximity of his heart-beat.
Skittisch but curious, she sometimes hitchhikes in his scarf during the wintermonths or lounges in the pocket of his dress-shirt for brief periods of time.
Stuivertje more or less means ‘small penny’ but it’s also a play on ‘stuiven’ which can also loosely be translated to ‘to dash’, so ‘little dash’ as well. The y is an old spelling.
WandCore: scale of a seven-headed Hydra.
Magnificent but blood-curdling creatures rising from the depths of the sea, characterized by a multitude of snake-like heads. Legend goes that when one head is cut off, it is instantly replaced by two new ones, until all of them are slain simultaneously.
The Hydra core is best suited for martial magic and prefers wizards of quick and analytical mind or versed in the arts of deception.
When in the vicinity of water, especially salt water, it will illicit a slight pull in its direction, but not so much as to interfere with casting.
What is important is decisiveness in casting. Doubt or wavering, not being of a singular mind in intention, can cause the wand to fizzle or misfire a spell.
Quidditch: Keeper. As much as he likes winning, he hates losing even more. Due to his rather impressive height and strength he has a long reach and is difficult to knock down. He’s very good at tactics and hard to distract or trick.
Combining a devil-may-care attitude with cool and calculating composure, most of his achievements appear to be gained rather effortlessly. It’s a half-truth he finds needless to challenge. He can apply himself with rigorous focus and discipline, but not because he values the virtue of hard work especially. Competence is held in much higher esteem. He just wants the best result of whatever he’s after in the shortest timespan possible.
There is a surprising, almost deceptive ease to his gestures and movement, which, while loose and unhurried, are executed with startling precision and economy, and often to great effect. He has a dignified set to his shoulders that speaks of knowing consecutive victories and accomplishments and taking some measure of pride in them. Don’t expect any false modesty here.
His words may be delivered with a sense of indifference or carelesness when not made to persuade , yet tend to be concise and far from heedless. The message might just not be high on the list of things one wants to hear. His voice is deep, a rough edge lightly grazing it, but it isn’t loud. He barely ever raises it beyond normal volume. One could even say it’s quiet, if it werent for its resonance that easily carries across a room. While he may sound generally dismissive to most, the observant listener may instead catch a multitude of subtle intonations aside from the more obvious mocking lilt he tends to entertain.
While not soothing or melodic, his voice isn’t unpleasant to listen to, as it’s calm and weighty.
He’s known to be materialistic, with a penchant for deal-brokering and business management. Exceptional at risk calculation and prospecting he didn’t waste a moment after turning eighteen to issue changes to the family company he was now legally a part of. He has every intention of becoming the one in charge and he’s not covert about it.
While some may attribute a certain forwardness in this regard to his youthful age, Andries is instead vastly worried about the company future –and thus of their bankaccounts- seeking to expand and rescue it from misanagement, and what he believes, will be a slow and painful death. He wouldn’t bother quite as much if it werent for his sister’s emotonial attachment to it and his little brother’s future as it turned out not –all- the company books had been shown to him prior his coming of age. He needs to turn the tide, and he needs to turn it fast.
While for many a personal business may conjure of romantic images as it to be a passionate labour of love and emotional investment, the lot of Dries’s future companies will be build entirely for the reason to sell them off after they turn a profit to ensure future capital for other, even greater ventures. He entertains the idea of building a large, innovative company he may wish to keep as a pet project, but is as of yet undecided about it.
For now however, graduation is just a little higher on his impressive to-do list.
While he occasionaly flies into the face of authority (some rules are simply too ridiculous or uneccesary to abide) his natural confidence, scarily consistent grades and apt skills grant him an aura of maturity and perpetual proffesionalism. Teachers therefore rarely truly dislike him despite coming across as aloof or disinterested. Here’s a guy, who somehow, makes it all work and leaves everyone to wonder just how exactly he does it while still having ample free time.
As robust as his skills are in organization and goal-getting, his ability to build personal contacts leaves a bit to be desired, to say the least.
Some of his peers may wonder if the tall Dutchman is worried about breaking his face. Little emotion or expression seems to touch it at all, save for smug smirks and scowls of scorn that adorn otherwise handsome features.
When it does, it can often only be told by the look in his eyes, which seem to a stranger only minutely, and thus perhaps, meaninglessly changing.
While Andries is not particularly bothered by a lack being liked by others, he is not entirely without the want of friends, something his complex and forceful nature tend to make nigh impossible.
To Dries, in his mind at least, friends are assets, not mystical unicorns bathed in unconditional love and light that tend to vaporize with the slightest cast of a shadow.
If you can’t be of use to each other, why bother? The widely progagated but rarely followed through upon pact of camaraderie people gush over all too often has obscure fine print and passages of broad interpretation he finds tiring and deceptive.
He prefers people to state what they want clearly rather than casting veiled looks of hurt, venom, anger or –damn it all- disappointment his way and expecting him to atone and fix it.
While it’s not that he can never understand the misgivings people, or ‘friends’ may have about him, he finds most of them entirely invalid. They are not his problem to deal with but theirs.
It’s this lack of empathy, or rather, sympathy, that makes most people call him callous or ruthless and so unamicable and hard to be or deal with. He is frank in his criticism and reserved in his praise.
It’s baffling to Dries that someone would turn down a partnership over mutual goals and gains with him just because they ‘don’t like him’ just as he can’t really imagine people being kind or helping him out just for the sake of it without reason or expecting anything in return.
In truth, he is in want of real friends just like any other (ok maybe slightly less) but while he doesn't think of himself as a lonely person, it is mostly a mindtrick he plays on himself.
One of his greatest faults is that when he is hard pressed, he's unlikely to ask for help. He's fine with trivial things, just not when it matters. The kind where he's in a pinch and needs a favour. If someone does help him he considers the magnitude of the aid, and turns it into a debt to be repaid.
He doesn't apologize either, even if he regrets something, or is on the wrong side of things or made a mistake, having a misplaced idea about weakness and strength.
Dries isn’t openly distrusting, that's a little boring and very energy consuming. Aside form that, it tends to offend too much, hampering agreements, but he does re-evaluate people all the time. He gives them the benefit of the doubt once. After that, all bets are off and it's hard to get back into his good graces.
Because Dries is rarely seen on the losing end of things, it is thought that he must frequently cheat or use dirty tacticts to keep it this way, though actual evidence of it is far and between.
While he walks the grey line in many aspects, he’s very careful not to cross it. Or at least, not too often, and certainly not when it can trace back to him too easily.
As any truly smart man knows, the real currency of the businessworld is trust, and nothing will sink you faster than a tarnished reputation.
And trust he can inspire. If not in his moral integrity, then still in his capabilities and the faith in his ever present ambition to come through.
One could say Andries is sparse with just about everthing. Expression, money, words, respect, motion and care of any kind. The latter, he reserves almost exclusively for his pet bunny and his siblings, whom he loves very much.
In the presence of his siblings Dries is a changed man. He is kind to them, though kind and nice are not always the same thing, and he becomes notably more lenient and patient, evening opening up a little just at the sight of them. He’s very protective, perhaps too much, and worries about how te world treats and impacts them. This causes him to launch pre-emptive strikes on occasion to clear obstacles out of the way they never knew were there, not to mention retaliating if someone slighted them (though he often can't know when they are)He sometimes meddles a bit too much in (Char)Lotte’s affairs, despite her being a grown woman already.
Andries is fascinated with Alchemy, for reasons that need little stating. Perhaps more surprising is that he is also rather fond of herbology. Even more astonishing is that plants, even difficult ones, thrive under his care rather than wither. He has a first edition of Winogrand’s Wondrous Water Plants and likes experimenting with the submerged green-growing-things to hopefully create and invent new potions.
Aside from the aforementioned, there is one thing he loves most.
Sailing. A staple passtime of his childhood, he loves water and adores the sea. Being in or on open water is a balm of comfort. Not that he needs any. Of course.
He also loves swimming and diving and can hold his breath for a substantial amount of time underwater, which once gave another student the impression that he had drowned.
Dries likes to help with the maintenance of the Durmstrang ship that transports the students, despite it not being a traditional sailing vessel. Since the ship is not much in use, it’s hardly ever a necessity, and more a way to pass time in relative peace.
He does ice-diving to train endurance and fortitude, Durmstrang being more forward in demanding physical fitness of their students. In warmer waters he freedives, with both dynamic and static breathing. In case of static breathing he is not interested in pushing himself to limits as much as a way to disconnect from the world. He doesn’t lie face down in the water either, rather he’s upright with his arms outstretched. Sometimes he lies down or sits on the ground but it’s rare.
He slows his heart-rate and enters a trance-like state without moving, which can look rather eerie. Since bracycardia and oxygen deprival can cause blackouts, causing him to drown, he always has someone with him to watch over him with specific instructions in case of static-breathing.
He knows quite a number of scuba spells, having followed a course in the Red-Sea once, but while not useless, they were acquired out of interest rather than practicality.
Familiar: A grey-brown Netherland dwarf rabbit called ‘Stuyvertje’ that he got from his sister Charlotte. Thinking it a bad form of mockery at first, he’s since become very attached to her.
She’s tiny, fluffy, and darts from place to place with uncanny speed, though getting on in years. Usually, however, she’s content lounging with her master, wriggling between the buttons of his dress shirt and taking residence on his chest while her ears pop-up when she chooses to peek out. In general she likes it best to sleep or rest in the proximity of his heart-beat.
Skittisch but curious, she sometimes hitchhikes in his scarf during the wintermonths or lounges in the pocket of his dress-shirt for brief periods of time.
Stuivertje more or less means ‘small penny’ but it’s also a play on ‘stuiven’ which can also loosely be translated to ‘to dash’, so ‘little dash’ as well. The y is an old spelling.
WandCore: scale of a seven-headed Hydra.
Magnificent but blood-curdling creatures rising from the depths of the sea, characterized by a multitude of snake-like heads. Legend goes that when one head is cut off, it is instantly replaced by two new ones, until all of them are slain simultaneously.
The Hydra core is best suited for martial magic and prefers wizards of quick and analytical mind or versed in the arts of deception.
When in the vicinity of water, especially salt water, it will illicit a slight pull in its direction, but not so much as to interfere with casting.
What is important is decisiveness in casting. Doubt or wavering, not being of a singular mind in intention, can cause the wand to fizzle or misfire a spell.
Quidditch: Keeper. As much as he likes winning, he hates losing even more. Due to his rather impressive height and strength he has a long reach and is difficult to knock down. He’s very good at tactics and hard to distract or trick.
history
Andries Ijsbrandt van der Haven, Dries for short, was born in Harlingen, a northern coastal town in the Netherlands to Ernst and Annemei van der Haven.
Living with the sea on your doorstep doesn’t leave one wanting for adventure and exploration and as a little boy, Andries was a nature loving child. He never grew tired of the the vast expanse of dark, muted blue laced with silver, and the ever present and meddling winds. When he was still small, he often went beachcombing and enjoyed repurposing or creating new things, be it practical or more artistic out of his finds. The were meant for selling, but occasionally ended up in the house.
He has little memories of his real father, who died when he was nearly five, due to an undiagnosed heart-condition and the wrong circumstances, yet his memory, true to what he had been in life or not, seemed to be put forward whenever he ended up on his mother’s wrong side. She also did not shy away to use her own pain as leverage for him to behave.
The memories he has of his dad are but few, and he is unsure whether they are true, or just figments of his imagination, dreamed up long ago. He rarely thinks of him anymore. Something that in itself is an act of defense.
The loss of his father did ingrain subtle forms of fear of abandonment and the expectation of sudden loss of safety and protection. His mother was unable to provide emotional stability for too long, and her greater hunger for prestige and public acclaim or approval taught him, intentional or not, that love, appreciation and affection are wholly conditional.
While these issues are never on the forefront, they have helped shape his character into one of unwholesome independance. He grew up fast. Too fast. In a way, skipping a large part of his childhood.
Annemei remarried soon, when Andries was six years old. It gained him a father more attuned to his mother’s nature, and a much older sister, Charlotte van Leeuwenhoek.
The new family moved to a stately house alongside the river Vecht, bought with the Van Leeuwenhoek’s galleons they earned with their family business in exclusive and precious magical fabrics.
The luxury was entirely alien to him, but he quickly took to it as something that was important and should be owned and aimed for.
Trying to please his mother meant trying to please his new father. Luckily his natural talents lined up well with what was expected of him and it wasn’t hard to gain the man’s praise, though he disliked Andries keeping his last name instead of taking his. This would have pleased Dries, if he hadn’t noticed that the more hightly he was spoken of and encouraged, the less was true for Charlotte.
His sister’s neglect was uncomfortable at first. Painful at last, when she was sometimes openly dismissed in his favour, because he had come to care for her quite easily, more deeply even than his own parents. He always greatly admired her. When they met her Gryffindor flame was still bright; when she, quite naturally, added an air of love and inspiration wherever she went before her warm spring feel made way for a punishing winter. To him Lotte had always been a shining star in a dark night. Helping him navigate through places of cold and dark isolation. A star, he sees with sadness, that dimmed with time.
When the invitation to Durmstrang came, it was celebrated in an elevated way that was almost distateful to him. Perhaps the most acclaimed school for those with high regard for Purebloodedness, he was shown he did his parents proud at every turn, and that this was the way it was supposed to be.
It hardly mattered. The halls of Durmstrang were filled with students like him, pressed by their folk to climb the ladder of fame and fortune at any cost.
Naturally gifted with magic and its attunement, even if just by mere expectation that it should answer to him he was right at home in the rigid halls of the northern school.
In his second year, coming back from school break with a barely healed cut above his brow he never once elaborated on to anyone, he decided to break with his parents. With their expectations and demands. With them personally. At least from his side. Nothing much changed on the outside. He still kept his grades in the top, and on his scarce visits home, was cordial and well behaved as far as his general carelessness towards others would allow. Everything he did now, was solely for his own wishes and gain. To become his own. In need of of praise or approval of no-one but himself. The world was going to answer to him, not the other way around.
He took up smoking, a minor act of rebellion, changed his hairstyle and became keeper in training for the quidditch team, growing literally and figuratively into the position.
His perfectly organized universe was plunged into chaos for some time when Nesia, the seeker, approached him. Though he couldn’t possibly imagine what someone like her would would find worth appreciating in the likes of him he had to admit he was curious. Considering her history of short lived flings, he wasn’t concerned with the longevity of such an experiment.
Perhaps he should have been more concerned about other things.
Unsurprisingly it ended within a month. What he did find surprising was his odd feeling of unsettlement over it, lasting for far too long. Even more upsetting was his realization that he kept all of her overly cheerful messages, sprinkled with ridiculous kaomoji, and had not discarded her gifts, often useless trinkets, months later, realizing with slight horror that he always found something more pressing or urgent to do than do away with them.
Thinking he should maybe have tried a little harder to allow the tiny girl some closeness rather than keeping her at arm’s length he started reading romance novels as they may shed some light on the vague and tangled mess that appeared to be a Woman’s Feelings. Something he had allegedly stepped on a lot.
Though really, whatever dislike Lizzy had for this Darcy fellow, it was entirely unfounded.
Living with the sea on your doorstep doesn’t leave one wanting for adventure and exploration and as a little boy, Andries was a nature loving child. He never grew tired of the the vast expanse of dark, muted blue laced with silver, and the ever present and meddling winds. When he was still small, he often went beachcombing and enjoyed repurposing or creating new things, be it practical or more artistic out of his finds. The were meant for selling, but occasionally ended up in the house.
He has little memories of his real father, who died when he was nearly five, due to an undiagnosed heart-condition and the wrong circumstances, yet his memory, true to what he had been in life or not, seemed to be put forward whenever he ended up on his mother’s wrong side. She also did not shy away to use her own pain as leverage for him to behave.
The memories he has of his dad are but few, and he is unsure whether they are true, or just figments of his imagination, dreamed up long ago. He rarely thinks of him anymore. Something that in itself is an act of defense.
The loss of his father did ingrain subtle forms of fear of abandonment and the expectation of sudden loss of safety and protection. His mother was unable to provide emotional stability for too long, and her greater hunger for prestige and public acclaim or approval taught him, intentional or not, that love, appreciation and affection are wholly conditional.
While these issues are never on the forefront, they have helped shape his character into one of unwholesome independance. He grew up fast. Too fast. In a way, skipping a large part of his childhood.
Annemei remarried soon, when Andries was six years old. It gained him a father more attuned to his mother’s nature, and a much older sister, Charlotte van Leeuwenhoek.
The new family moved to a stately house alongside the river Vecht, bought with the Van Leeuwenhoek’s galleons they earned with their family business in exclusive and precious magical fabrics.
The luxury was entirely alien to him, but he quickly took to it as something that was important and should be owned and aimed for.
Trying to please his mother meant trying to please his new father. Luckily his natural talents lined up well with what was expected of him and it wasn’t hard to gain the man’s praise, though he disliked Andries keeping his last name instead of taking his. This would have pleased Dries, if he hadn’t noticed that the more hightly he was spoken of and encouraged, the less was true for Charlotte.
His sister’s neglect was uncomfortable at first. Painful at last, when she was sometimes openly dismissed in his favour, because he had come to care for her quite easily, more deeply even than his own parents. He always greatly admired her. When they met her Gryffindor flame was still bright; when she, quite naturally, added an air of love and inspiration wherever she went before her warm spring feel made way for a punishing winter. To him Lotte had always been a shining star in a dark night. Helping him navigate through places of cold and dark isolation. A star, he sees with sadness, that dimmed with time.
When the invitation to Durmstrang came, it was celebrated in an elevated way that was almost distateful to him. Perhaps the most acclaimed school for those with high regard for Purebloodedness, he was shown he did his parents proud at every turn, and that this was the way it was supposed to be.
It hardly mattered. The halls of Durmstrang were filled with students like him, pressed by their folk to climb the ladder of fame and fortune at any cost.
Naturally gifted with magic and its attunement, even if just by mere expectation that it should answer to him he was right at home in the rigid halls of the northern school.
In his second year, coming back from school break with a barely healed cut above his brow he never once elaborated on to anyone, he decided to break with his parents. With their expectations and demands. With them personally. At least from his side. Nothing much changed on the outside. He still kept his grades in the top, and on his scarce visits home, was cordial and well behaved as far as his general carelessness towards others would allow. Everything he did now, was solely for his own wishes and gain. To become his own. In need of of praise or approval of no-one but himself. The world was going to answer to him, not the other way around.
He took up smoking, a minor act of rebellion, changed his hairstyle and became keeper in training for the quidditch team, growing literally and figuratively into the position.
His perfectly organized universe was plunged into chaos for some time when Nesia, the seeker, approached him. Though he couldn’t possibly imagine what someone like her would would find worth appreciating in the likes of him he had to admit he was curious. Considering her history of short lived flings, he wasn’t concerned with the longevity of such an experiment.
Perhaps he should have been more concerned about other things.
Unsurprisingly it ended within a month. What he did find surprising was his odd feeling of unsettlement over it, lasting for far too long. Even more upsetting was his realization that he kept all of her overly cheerful messages, sprinkled with ridiculous kaomoji, and had not discarded her gifts, often useless trinkets, months later, realizing with slight horror that he always found something more pressing or urgent to do than do away with them.
Thinking he should maybe have tried a little harder to allow the tiny girl some closeness rather than keeping her at arm’s length he started reading romance novels as they may shed some light on the vague and tangled mess that appeared to be a Woman’s Feelings. Something he had allegedly stepped on a lot.
Though really, whatever dislike Lizzy had for this Darcy fellow, it was entirely unfounded.
rp sample
(liberties taken with currently unclaimed Luxembourg (Thei) )
From his peripheral vision he caught his little brother staring from his safe haven, the door that separated the office from a long hallway ending into bickering and strife. While he was not prone to being distracted, he had an instant knowing whenever it concerned one of his siblings and their approximate vicinity. He motioned with the cigarette stuck between his fingers for him to come in, not lifting his pen from the official looking paper he stained with black ink in neat, straight characters in a firm hand.
The sensitive blond eyed him carefully as he approached, stopping just short of the large ebony desk, polished to perfection, that did not belong to either of them.
Not yet anyway.
“Are you sure this is the right decision?”
Dries nodded curtly, and after a brief check for errors, put the page aside to let it dry and positioned the last of the lot in front of him.
“It’s the only decision.”
The family’s youngest looked doubtful. Or rather, a better word for it was that he looked worried.
“It’s going to be really difficult.” His voice grew even quieter, his youthful face clouding over with concern.
“I know.” If he didn’t know better he swore he could have caught the faintest glimpse of excitement in the tone of his own voice.
Several moments of silence passed in which only the sound of the black pen marking it’s way through the page could be heard.
“Why are you alone? Does Charlotte know about it yet?”
Dries exhaled a puff of smoke and punctuated the line with satisfaction, then swept the pen over the paper one last time. He didn’t care to answer the first inquiry for several reasons, the second was easier though not the reality he had hoped for. It was easier for now, but no doubt it would be worse later.
“The walls are still standing aren’t they.”
He caught the somewhat dejected sigh, but couldn’t adress the matter now. He slid the stack of papers in a leather binder and stood up from the desk extinguishing the smoke in an expensive looking ashtray, that on closer inspection, looked a little worn. By the amount of crumpled smokes, Andries had been here a while, but the younger blond chose not to comment on his brother’s smoking habits. Or his reasons to keep him in the dark.
The younger man fidgetted with his clothes as Dries put away the binder on a tall bookshelf.
“Your tie came loose. You really should shake that habit.” The older brother remarked without looking around.
Thei’s hands shot up to the gentle coloured tie before dropping conscientiouly to his sides. “Sorry. It’s just... I’m--”
“I’ll fix it.”
Thei blinked. His own blue-green eyes shooting up to Dries’s more severe green that always softened when he was around his siblings, instinctively feeling the weight of his words to mean more than just the reapplying of a wayward tie. Andries didn’t like promises. They were so easily made and even easier broken. Fancy words whose weight when measured were little more than petals blowing in the breeze.
He didn’t care to get them and he didn’t care to make them.
There were only two people in the world he made an exception for.
Thei got a look of melancholy, remembering how his brother had taught him, with uncharacteristic patience, how to fold the slender fabric over itself into a respectable knot years ago. The situation had been so much more grave, yet he felt what was coming now was barely less important.
Dries tied the strip of blue swiftly but without haste, hands going confidently through the motions, and taking extra care that it was not too tight.
In the distance they heard a muted round of applause. They’d have to go.
Minutes later Thei witnessed the change without surprise. His brother always had a certain way about him that made people take note, despite his young age. A certain larger-than-life quality he sometimes envied.
Sure, he was tall and handsome, and made for an intriguing picture with the fine cut of his silhouette in a carefully assembled suit that communicated exactly what he wanted, but it was much more than that.
It was in the way how he never seemed to accomodate to the wishes of the world, but rather bent it to his own devises. How with his presence he could command a room filled with important, intelligent people double his age and shocked at his own, without so much as a blink, hitch or a shake in his fingers. That his entire demeanour and tone of voice spoke of a natural expectation that all was going to play out exactly as it should.
“Honorable Ladies and Gentlemen of the board.” He started with a barely-there-smile. The sharp glint in enticing green irises laced with silver reflecting sceptic but curious expectant faces looking at him from across the room.
“I’ll make you an offer you can’t refuse.”
From his peripheral vision he caught his little brother staring from his safe haven, the door that separated the office from a long hallway ending into bickering and strife. While he was not prone to being distracted, he had an instant knowing whenever it concerned one of his siblings and their approximate vicinity. He motioned with the cigarette stuck between his fingers for him to come in, not lifting his pen from the official looking paper he stained with black ink in neat, straight characters in a firm hand.
The sensitive blond eyed him carefully as he approached, stopping just short of the large ebony desk, polished to perfection, that did not belong to either of them.
Not yet anyway.
“Are you sure this is the right decision?”
Dries nodded curtly, and after a brief check for errors, put the page aside to let it dry and positioned the last of the lot in front of him.
“It’s the only decision.”
The family’s youngest looked doubtful. Or rather, a better word for it was that he looked worried.
“It’s going to be really difficult.” His voice grew even quieter, his youthful face clouding over with concern.
“I know.” If he didn’t know better he swore he could have caught the faintest glimpse of excitement in the tone of his own voice.
Several moments of silence passed in which only the sound of the black pen marking it’s way through the page could be heard.
“Why are you alone? Does Charlotte know about it yet?”
Dries exhaled a puff of smoke and punctuated the line with satisfaction, then swept the pen over the paper one last time. He didn’t care to answer the first inquiry for several reasons, the second was easier though not the reality he had hoped for. It was easier for now, but no doubt it would be worse later.
“The walls are still standing aren’t they.”
He caught the somewhat dejected sigh, but couldn’t adress the matter now. He slid the stack of papers in a leather binder and stood up from the desk extinguishing the smoke in an expensive looking ashtray, that on closer inspection, looked a little worn. By the amount of crumpled smokes, Andries had been here a while, but the younger blond chose not to comment on his brother’s smoking habits. Or his reasons to keep him in the dark.
The younger man fidgetted with his clothes as Dries put away the binder on a tall bookshelf.
“Your tie came loose. You really should shake that habit.” The older brother remarked without looking around.
Thei’s hands shot up to the gentle coloured tie before dropping conscientiouly to his sides. “Sorry. It’s just... I’m--”
“I’ll fix it.”
Thei blinked. His own blue-green eyes shooting up to Dries’s more severe green that always softened when he was around his siblings, instinctively feeling the weight of his words to mean more than just the reapplying of a wayward tie. Andries didn’t like promises. They were so easily made and even easier broken. Fancy words whose weight when measured were little more than petals blowing in the breeze.
He didn’t care to get them and he didn’t care to make them.
There were only two people in the world he made an exception for.
Thei got a look of melancholy, remembering how his brother had taught him, with uncharacteristic patience, how to fold the slender fabric over itself into a respectable knot years ago. The situation had been so much more grave, yet he felt what was coming now was barely less important.
Dries tied the strip of blue swiftly but without haste, hands going confidently through the motions, and taking extra care that it was not too tight.
In the distance they heard a muted round of applause. They’d have to go.
Minutes later Thei witnessed the change without surprise. His brother always had a certain way about him that made people take note, despite his young age. A certain larger-than-life quality he sometimes envied.
Sure, he was tall and handsome, and made for an intriguing picture with the fine cut of his silhouette in a carefully assembled suit that communicated exactly what he wanted, but it was much more than that.
It was in the way how he never seemed to accomodate to the wishes of the world, but rather bent it to his own devises. How with his presence he could command a room filled with important, intelligent people double his age and shocked at his own, without so much as a blink, hitch or a shake in his fingers. That his entire demeanour and tone of voice spoke of a natural expectation that all was going to play out exactly as it should.
“Honorable Ladies and Gentlemen of the board.” He started with a barely-there-smile. The sharp glint in enticing green irises laced with silver reflecting sceptic but curious expectant faces looking at him from across the room.
“I’ll make you an offer you can’t refuse.”
other
Wand | |
Scale of a hydra | fir |
14 and a quarter inches | unyielding but not rigid |
Strongest Subject | Weakest Subject |
alchemy/potions | divination |
Familiar | Patronus |
a teeny tiny bun | Osprey |
any used pics are my own | |
Dia | |
