black, B E L L A T R I X

[bellatrixblack]

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About You - -

Name: Kiara
Gender: Femme
Age: Eighteen
Years of RPG Experience: Five
Other: (;

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Quick Quiz - -

How did you find us? Long story.
What about ISS inspired you to join? Equally long story.
Do you have any suggestions for us? Surprisingly short; I have none.

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About the Character- -

Name: Bellatrix Black. I can't believe you even had to ask.
Age: Someone obviously wasn't brought up right; you never ask a lady how old she is. I'm old enough to curse you straight to hell for even daring to.
Gender: ... female. Obviously.
Year: I'm getting out of this god-forsaken school after this last year, though why I came back to begin with is beyond me. Anything for Daddy Dearest, I suppose.
Face Claim: Christina Ricci

Canon or Original? Canon

Facial Properties:

To be quite frank, if I even have to describe to you what I look like, this means one of two things. Either you deem yourself unworthy to even look me in the eye, in which case I should not even bother describing myself to you, or you don't pay close enough attention when you do look me in the eye, in which case I should not even bother describing myself to you. Regardless, if you ever do decide to grow yourself a pair and look at my face, you will notice one thing. Perfection. Absolute and complete perfection from the tip of my nose all the way up my high, beautiful forehead, sloping down my graceful cheekbones into the strong jawline I inherited from my mother. I've always been told my brown eyes could burn holes into your flesh if I stared at you long enough, and I find this to be endlessly amusing. As if I spend so much time staring at people. You'll be lucky if I even spare you a passing glance. Still, they fit rather perfectly against the rest of my features, not too far apart and not too close together on my face, my small, sloping button nose dividing them up... perfectly, of course. My father loves my smile, which is good. He's the only one who'll ever see it on my face. My plump-- once more, perfect --lips never seem to do much else than sneer. Yes, I've become exceptionally good at that. You can ask... mostly everyone. Maybe not my sisters, but... sometimes, even they deserve a good sneer or two. Just so they, too, know their place in this world. Everyone should know that their place in this world is below me. Because, really, what other cause for such perfection could be said other than my pureblood ties? Obviously, I was graced with such a beautiful complexion, such flawless features, such grace and beauty because I am the elite. I am the best, and I look like it, too.

Physique:

Really, all you need to know about my physique is that, while I look tiny enough to be taken advantage of, I'm in such fantastic shape that you won't get far if you try. Quidditch makes things a lot easier, but I was also, once more, graced with such a figure from my own noble family. I inherited this body from my father's side, from his mother and her mother and so on and so forth. Tall, lanky in build, but never overtly skinny. Always toned, always perfect. Strong muscles but nothing masculine, either. Just the right amount to give me the strength I need to take you down, and never enough that I look disgustingly manly. Not that you could ever get confused about my gender. I have curves, too. Don't look so surprised; I told you already. Perfection. From my family, of course, but part of it is of my own doing. I know how to style my hair and my clothes to look my best, and I also know how to style my hair and my clothes to insure that you know I am the best. Dark clothing, dramatic make-up... whatever it takes. I don't like to have to tell you such, really this whole process is beginning to become frustrating. I am so much better understood when you simply know things about me. Not when I have to take precious time away from my other interests to bore you over my style of clothing and my height and weight. Boring, trivial things that you will never even be able to focus on, yet here I am relaying that I'm about five foot eight inches and-- well, it's rude to ask a lady how much she weighs. Just know that if I wanted to, I could do some serious damage to your body, however strong or feeble you deem yourself to be.


Wand Type: Walnut, 12 3/4", dragon heartstring
Wand Expertise: Dueling, Dark Arts
Patronus: A Boa Constrictor, naturally.
Boggart: Why is this even necessary? Fear makes you weak, and to fear something as trivial as death seems to be even more weak to begin with. And I will kill you if you so much as think about opening that fat trap of a mouth and spewing out all the little details of my fear of death to begin with. No, even killing seems too merciful at this point, but you catch my drift, don't you?

Personality:

To even begin to think that you will nail my "personality" in simply a few paragraphs makes me question the very intelligence of that peculiarly small brain of yours. I am not someone easily labelled by specific words and terms because my "personality" varies from day to day depending upon my mood. Though, perhaps we should get one thing settled straightaway before you can even start with your petty labels and stereotypical ideals. I am a pureblood. One of the better Purebloods, obviously. I was born into the Noble House of Black, and I strive to make sure that this fact is known and recognized amongst everyone else. Those with even a smudge upon their records-- whether it was a mere muggle great-great-great grandfather or a squib second-cousin-thrice-removed, don't even deserve to be a part of this so-called "prestigous" academy, let alone deserve even a spare glance from me. I don't give any of that magical trash a passing thought in my brain, and that is being spectacularly kind on my part. Because as much as it is well-known that I am Pureblood royalty, it is also common knowledge that I am superior in all things magical overall. As much of my spare time is separated specifically for the mastering of spells and curses and jinxes, all of which in the hopes of becoming the best at duelling, I have become well-trained for someone my age. So, really, it is beyond being merely kind to these pathetic wastes of good air that wander these halls as if they own the place that I do not do more than ignore them. Such filth should be eliminated to make room for those more deserving. Despite the restrictions on my activities here, I still manage to have a little fun. Filth needs to know that they are just that, and I have absolutely no problems with pounding that fact into their head as much as necessary. They learn quickly, and I've never had a problem spending... extra time on those who need a little bit more attention. Jinxes, curses, hexes... I have quite the stock of spells to use, and I'm always up for some experimentation. Dueling is a specialty, but torture...

Oh, there's nothing quite like torture.

I had been the kind of girl who had picked apart the bugs to see how they worked, tearing off their legs and wings for my own curiosity. My favorites were the ones that screamed as they went, the faint buzzing nearly as much of a thrill as the knowledge gained from the actual experimentation. After a while, I knew how they worked, and I only wanted to hear them scream. That's the best part. Because they can hide their pain in their features. They can lie through their teeth and say it doesn't hurt, even after you've made the first slice on their skin. But a scream tells all. When they scream, you just know you're doing something right. It brings such a rush-- something that could never be achieved by mere Muggle hallucigens. No, when the rush of a good, clean torture bursts through your veins, it's easy to see how it can be so... addicting. I moved up quickly from bugs to anything I could catch. Of course, the bigger the animal, the more secretive and sneaky I had to be. It was the start of the privacy issue, I believe. My business has always been my business and shall always remain my business. You should keep your fat, disfigured, dirty nose out of it. I'm not the type to go blabbing all my dirty little secrets to that trite tabloid, bragging about my exploits of the younger and less fortunate ones. And if they lack the shame and dignity to prevent themselves from blabbing, than they deserved every hex and jinx I had sent their way. I prefer to be known without actual knowledge of who I am. So you will know of me, but never about me. And whatever things you believe I told you in secret? The private confessions I made with a quivering lip and wet eyes? Lies fed to the public for the purpose of remaining unbothered by such inane societal nuances. Whatever I may have mentioned at the latest pureblood gala after I was paraded around like the royalty I am? Well, it should have gone in one ear and out the other. It won't do you any good to remember and retain it. Let alone spread it. As if you have the nerve.

Because the other type of people to roam these halls? Besides the filth and those unworthy of even uttering Hogwarts' name?

Cowards.

Cowardice has spread through this school like the influenza, but thank Merlin I'm immune. See, the only thing separating me from your average, idiotic Gryffindor? I actually have a brain that I am quite capable of using without needing to take breaks in between long trains of thought. I know when I am well-suited enough to win a duel, and I know when to bow out gracefully when I'm in over my head. Which rarely happens, but, still. If it were ever to happen, I'd be smart and stay out of it. You won't see me getting slaughtered like the poor little lion who couldn't find it in himself to say no. To call it courageous to lay down and die for some petty Hogwarts relationship-- as most of those idiots claim they would do --is an insult to anyone with any actual courage. Its just stupidity. Plain, simple stupidity. Dying is the weakest thing a person could do. It is much more courageous to watch your friend die and to keep fighting. To keep living. Nothing could be gained for yourself in your own death. Except "eternal rest" and all that other such bullshit. The purpose of life is to live. Death is the ultimate form of failure. And. I. Do. Not. Fail.

I'm so glad we understand each other now.

Call me a perfectionist if you must continue to label me despite my previous attempts to prevent you from doing so. I'm through questioning your intelligence; I know you are probably too thick to realize by now that I like things orderly. There is a specific order to life, and I believe it must be followed. More specifically, there's order to everything. Even the tiniest little things, there's a whole hierarchy that is just known and followed. Even asinine things like the Seventh Years getting the better compartments on the train over the first years-- there is an order. There are rules and there are traditions and there are customs that beg to be observed and followed as they have been perfectly since forever. I don't like when things go against that. I believe people who find themselves to be "rebels" are just morons. The kind of idiots that try to change things because they can't handle who they are. Insecure, petty, childish idiots who don't even deserve what little they've been granted, let alone the make their grand requests for more. Another "pet peeve" of mine? When people who have no right to attempt to take authority with me. I don't do well with authority to begin with, but undeserved authority? People attempting to build themselves up further than they really are? Pathetic. I can take orders from those who deserve to give them. Everyone else can learn to shut their mouths when they're talking to me.

Still, none of this is anything that you actually know. You know what everyone else has said. You know that I'm cruel. That I'm relentless. That I'm a cold, stony "bitch". You know that I'm not supposed to be crossed in the hallways, and you are never to speak directly to me. There are other idiocies that have been spread as well. I should be annoyed at the rumors, like every other petty bitch in this school, shouldn't I? Except I find it impossible to be annoyed with them when it keeps people away from me. It saves me the trouble of having to make friends or even acquantences with people I'd rather not talk with to begin with. The only "friends" I have are the ones that I'm supposed to have. The ones I've had since birth and beyond; other children deserving of my attention. The pureblood babies from all over. The Malfoys, the Lestranges... you get the idea. Those are the people I'm "friends" with, though it's only the title, really. It's not as if I trust these people. Trust makes you vulnerable, after all, and I can't allow myself to ever be "vulnerable". I don't trust, and I definitely can't be trusted. Anything revealed, however stupidly, can and will be used against you at the earliest of chances. I would hope that if you've gained nothing else from this half-assed, entirely unnecessary description of myself, that you have learned that I am a cold-hearted bitch with nothing better to do than to make your life hell. There is no "soft underbelly" where I'm actually some pathetic, nit-wit "romantic at heart". There are no secret friendships where I wait until all hours of the night to sneak down to the common room to trade secrets and braid hair. There is nothing but me and my business. The harsh, cold truth of my business being that I don't care about anything other than myself and my position in this world. If I'm "pathetically in love" with anything, it would be the power gained from pure respect. Or, rather, the power gained from fear. If there's anything I'm "lusting" after with my "teenaged hormones", it would be the absolute power that I will seek the moment I grasp that diplomma in my hand. Nothing "turns me on" more than that. Understood? I'm not like every other drooling, half-brained moron in this place. I'm Bellatrix Black, for Merlin's sake. If that isn't enough for you, I don't know what will ever appease you.

Likes:

+ The color Black. Not because I'm that narcisstic, but because I'm that "morbid". Besides, it's the color that looks best on me, make-up and all. Slimming and whatnot, though as if I need anything more slimming. Still. It's my favorite color.
+ The Dark Arts. The idea of power is so... arousing to me that I can't wait to get out of this godforsaken place long enough to experiment with it. Nothing excites me more than the prospect of more power. Of gaining power over those who have tried, unsuccessfully, to squash myself. I believe the people who have tried to squander my efforts for years should be dealt with.
+ Narcissa and Andromeda. Family, of course, comes first. As far as my idiotic cousin Regulus goes? If he continues to hold this "position" or whatever over my head one more time? I'm going to cut his head off and put it on a spike. Like they used to do with unruly peasants who stepped out of line.
+ Purebloods. The only people worth wasting my time on.
+ Potions and being a Slytherin with general. Of course, those idiotic Gryffindors get all the glory. Because everyone is afraid of us. Afraid of what we represent and afraid of all the power that is rightfully ours. Gryffindors may be "brave" and "loyal", but the Slytherins are cunning and vindictive. You may hold Gryffindors in higher esteem, but we will quickly change your minds so that we are on top. Where we belong.
+ Privacy.
+ Dueling. How could I not like something I'm good at?
+ Quidditch. "Flying is so freeing and uplifting" and all that other bullshit. Actually, I like the looks of pathetic defeat that cross on the oppositions faces as we destroy their hopes and dreams in a single match.
+ The Whomping Willow. I like the idea of something so "beautiful" being such a fucking bitch.
+ Rodolphus Lestrange. On second thought...

Dislikes:

- Rodolphus Lestrange. The very idea that I may even be remotely attracted to him is such an asinine and ridiculous idea. While death makes you the weakest you could ever be, romantic relationships are quite the close second on that scale.
- Mudbloods.
- Blood traitors. Oh, Sirius, and we all had such high hopes for you.
- Idiots who think themselves better than I, even when they are so obviously not. Though, really, these people usually fall into the categories of the past two people. Why I bothered to even give them further acknowledgement is really proving how tiring this whole process has become to me.
- Most of the teachers in this place. Really? The fact that my intelligence surpasses your own really only solidifies how meaningless your position truely is.
- Failure.
- Fear. At least, my own fear. Not that I have much, mind you. I rather enjoy invoking the fear of others, though...
- Happiness. Its all so fleeting and pathetic.
- Love. What the hell does that word even mean, anyway?
- Death.

History:

The Noble House of Black.

Yes, I bet you wished you had grown up in that household, too. Who wouldn't? I was the first sister born to my parents, and I was their darling baby girl. Until Andromeda came along. It was like she was some new toy on Christmas. The best present they had ever received and all that. I wasn't particularly tossed aside, mind you, being that we really were only a year apart. It was mostly that I wasn't given much attention when it wasn't particularly required. I could handle the two of us fighting for our parents' attention, but when Narcissa came into the picture... Well, then Narcissa was the brand-new bicycle gleaming underneath the Christmas tree and Andromeda and I were like the two reject toys with broken springs and a missing buttoned eye. Well loved for such a fleeting moment then merely pushed aside when something better came along. Ickle Cissy was the darling of our parents' eye, and she got whatever that little black heart of hers desired. Mother and Father just never knew when to say no. That was the beginning. The start of everything. When I wasn't Bellatrix. I was just Bella, and Andromeda was merely Meda. Together, we were, always. Inseparable, if only because we were stronger together. Together, we could overpower Cissy even on her best days. Together, things didn't seem so... horrible. No, I'm not going to whine about how terrible my childhood was, because it wasn't terrible. I, like ever other weak, pathetic child, merely needed recognition now and again. Acknowledgement that I am worth all the trouble. So, Meda and I would do things strictly for the extra attention. Little things here and there that would let Cissy know exactly how we felt about things, and would cause our parents to spare an extra moment of their time to rebuke us. Yes, even the arguements were better than the unsolicited silence. Usually. When it came to punishment, I would have preferred to have remained ignored. All that ridiculous pettiness aside, though, my childhood was as to be expected from any pureblood household. I was taught that my bloodline is as important and precious as little else in this world. Purebloods are the only true witches and wizards left on this planet. We are the elite. The best.

Being the best comes with obligations, though. Naturally, we were paraded about from Christmas party to cocktail hour, wearing only the finest of dresses and with the largest of smiles. Mingling with others just as worthy as ourselves, rubbing elbows with other pureblood families. The Lestranges and the Malfoys quickly having become something similar to family. They were an extension of our own, to be sure. We were thrown together from our diapered years and have grown up together. Times were simpler then, or however that asinine saying goes. To be far, things were easy. You did what you were told to do. If Mother and Father wanted you to play blocks with Lucius Malfoy, you played blocks with Lucius Malfoy. There was no questioning of motives, no rebellious behavior. Sirius was still my cousin, mischevious as always. Regulus' head wasn't the size of a watermelon because his ego was nonexistant. Andromeda was still Meda. Still my very-best and closest friend. Perhaps things weren't "simpler". Maybe they were just better. Things were just the way they were supposed to be. Expectations were drawn up and met, and there was little else to worry about. Despite the amount of time spent with Cissy, my parents made sure that when I turned eleven and received my Hogwarts letter-- as expected, of course --that I was thoroughly prepared to come to Hogwarts. I may have been the best by blood, but my parents wanted me to be the best. Period. They wanted me to come and get sorted into Slytherin, to continue with the family tradition, and for everything to be as perfect as it had been previous to my admission into the school.

My first year of Hogwarts had been a new start. I had been properly sorted into Slytherin, as expected. The trouble began, however, when Sirius, dear, sweet cousin of mine, had been sorted into Gryffindor, of all houses. That had only been the start of the trouble I have with this place. Because, soon, I discovered that there were other people permitted to roam these halls, take the same classes, dare to even sit next to me. Filth was spreading all over the so-called prestigious halls my parents had proclaimed since I could remember! What could possibly be so grand about a school that permits such rubbish to wander amongst the elite? I was appalled, further appalled when I realized that neither teacher nor administrative head was doing a damned thing about it! I was supposed to cordially interact with these people as if they deserved it. I have always been under the firm belief that no one deserves anything; you have to earn it. That being said, I have earned the respect I talk about due to my bloodline. These people earned nothing more than my pity and disgust. I was quick to make this point known, unfortunately becoming a regular of the detentions. As I said earlier, neither teacher nor administrative head understood that these filthy, ungrateful mudbloods and halfbloods and blood-traitors earned the hexes and curses and spells I had tested upon them. They needed to learn their place in this world. I had been taught that it is my duty to show them. Very few seemed to understand this. Namely, the very few of us elite in this school. Rabastan, Lucius... they had my back, and I had theirs. There was little trust in the relationship; mostly our friendship from our youth had grown into something more of necessity. We needed to stick together before the very ideals we had been raised on and represented would have been lost into the shadows.

I knew, though, that when Meda came to Hogwarts for her first year that things would be slightly more normal. We'd stick together as always, Meda and me, and we would help these... can you even consider them people? ... their place in this world. We talked about it during those hot summer months, even going so far as to rub it in Cissy's face that she'd have to wait a whole nother year. And when that opening feast came, I sat at the Slytherin table with baited breath to watch as Meda got sorted into Ravenclaw.

Ravenclaw.

Sirius had been endurable. While he still was, technically, 'family', Sirius would always be that cousin of mine. His new friends were disgusting and his actions and thought-process were seriously disturbed. He was easy for me to shove out of my life and off of a balcony. But Meda? This... traitorous deed of hers couldn't be forgiven. We were naturally pulled apart. She had friends and a social life in Ravenclaw, and I had my duty and my beliefs to protect me in Slytherin. We were circles apart; as if we were ever going to be close. That second year was somewhat of a change for me. It slowly developed me into the person that I am today. I was much less dependent on the people around me. I would never again set myself up for the same terrible blow like I had with Med-- Andromeda. No, I would steel myself away from the world and focus on my academics. On my schooling, on my spells, and on the task at hand. Surprisingly, Cissy was somewhat of a comfort to have when she made her way to Hogwarts the following year. The previous disagreements all seemed rather unimportant. I could no longer bring myself to care over the fact that this girl was spoiled rotten. She had not abandoned me. Instead, Cissy and I became friends again. Or, at least, as much of a friend as I can handle. She understood. More than anyone else, Cissy understood our purpose. We built up who we are together, yet separately. Never once could I say that Cissy and I are alike. We're similarly different, and that's the way I would prefer it. Because while there is many "elite" there is only one who could claim the title of being the best. That's what I strive for. Call it what you will. Accuse me of attempting to make up for a childhood long forgotten. Tell me that I must prove myself to Andromeda; to show her the mistake that she had made all those years ago. Talk about it as if you know anything about me, I dare you. I dare you, because I think we both know, by now, that the last place you want to be is on the wrong end of my wand.

Because, you see, as time progressed here at Hogwarts, I have learned a few things. I have learned that while all things good and equal can give you power, all things darker and more twisted can bring you greater power. Power that I can barely stand to wrap my mind around, and power with a high more powerful than any other drug. While the rest of these swine have wasted away in classrooms, pouring over textbooks and assignments, I've been waiting in the wings. Reading book after book after book about dark spells and twisted magic, practicing them on anything and anyone that I can find. When I leave this place, I'm going to do something great. I'm going to be something big. Someone important. I refuse to wallow away and die; to be weak and vulnerable. I will make the philosophies and teachings that I was raised on something on a national level. The people who don't belong to be on this planet shall be eliminated permanently. These people who have thought themselves my equal throughout these past seven years will not know what will hit them once I get out of this place. The world better be prepared, because I am prepared. I am prepared to bring hell right here on earth.

I solemnly swear it.

Sample Post:
Check anything from James Potter, Jackie Fontaine, Johnny Myers, or Jack Sparrow. Thanks. <3

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And Finally - -

I, Kiara, have read the rules, understand clearly what my responsibilities are now that I am joining ISS, and will abide by these standards set by the staff.

[Narcissa Black]

accepted