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Tirzah Soleil
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Author:  =^_^= [ Thu Oct 27, 2011 7:35 am ]
Post subject:  Tirzah Soleil

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Curiousity and pessimism are the only things that wake Tirzah out of her miserable stupor most mornings. The 12 year old spends most of her days criticising everyone when she isn't burried deep in the memoirs of her disappointing ventures at Hogwarts. Often, she can comically be seen with a grouchy expression as she stomps herself along the corridors from class to class. The young witch has few saving graces; but most of them never surface for long enough to gain her any credibility beyond being refered to as a pill. Whether it's complaints about the incompetency of her peers or the immaturity of the older students something negative is almost always seeping from between her lips.

Her dorm, on the other hand, is very rich in culture. From ballet shoes hanging from her dresser to classical renditions of baroque art her style speaks far beyond her years. An accomplished dancer for her age, her room would almost appear to be a shrine of all things ballet. Mixed with her scholastic books contain technique and muggle magazines glamorizing the lost art; to the extent that during her very first week the Soleil House Elf was seen installing a ballet bar in her room for her to keep herself in shape with.

From all ImageImageoutward appearances, her affixation with the finer things in life haven't given her much joy. Instead, if someone were to spark a conversation up with her about her fairly hidden talents, she'd be just as dreary as usual. It's a harmless extent of misery; just enough to be something people would generally shy away from, or write off as prepubescent angst. Her demeanor is on the verge of being depressive enough to cause problems. But it's mostly just a phase (or so she would psychoanalytically conclude).

Needless to say, she has no friends. When not in class or her room she prefers to satirically communicate and more often than not it tends to leave a bad taste with her classmates. So, while everyone else fantasizes about common teenage things, she writes. Her journal is leather bound with a rustic engraving of a sun; a fairly obvious heirloom from past generations of equally hateful (or misunderstood) Soleils.

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