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Jason Marren
Felix Dagon
Frank Pratt
George Carter
-Leon Carter (Secondary-deceased)

Full Character Name: Malcolm Tavin Poole Jr.
Character Birthday & Age: 11 November 1979 // 28
City & Country of Birth: Vadso, Norway
Pureblood, Halfblood or Muggleborn?: Pureblood
Alma Mater: Durmstrang
Job: Unspeakable

Wand:

At ten inches, Tavin’s second wand is made of a light cherry wood, polished and smooth, with a chimera scale core. After his first broke into many different pieces from a ricocheted spell in the second wizarding war, his great grandmother huffed and puffed and found a family heirloom. Even though she seemed to have a small problem with handing it over, she told him he had best guard it with his life or he would be disowned from the family. She always had a rather sweet yet harsh way about her. The inflexible wood has seen a lot of years but doesn’t show its age. The only decoration on the wand is a black stone set into the bottom of the handle.

Physical Description:

His favorite part of himself is his hair; short or long, he can do just about anything with it. He also is fond of his hands; they are accustomed to working in the soil at the Ministry, and though they take a lot from work, they also help him in his hobbies.

Others talk about his soft, full lips (usually one or another lucky ladies), his light mesmerizing blue eyes that seem to stare into your soul, or his smile that could light up the day. While those are important features, it’s the entire package that makes Tavin who he is.

Five eleven puts him at average height for a full grown male; it’s worked fine for him, though. He doesn’t have to search forever for something that will fit, and he can fit in most doors and sit comfortably in chairs. His feet don’t dangle and he doesn’t have to hunch over to do things.

Growing up, he was reminded constantly to ‘sit up straight’ and ‘walk tall,’ and since he learned to listen to his elders at a young age, he has carried that with him to today. He may seem taller than his actual height because of the way he carries himself. Even when he works late, kneading the dirt for some plant to grow or testing the effects of one or two potion ingredients… he finds a way to hunch over straight.

When he isn’t wearing robes, he can often be found with a nice pair of trousers, a comfortable, fitting long sleeved shirt pushed up to his elbows, and some suspenders. Something about the feel of belts always put him off; he much prefers something snappy over his shoulders to keep his trousers from falling off. Then he’ll often slip either another shirt on over it or a jacket.

Personality Description:

Growing up in his family, Tavin learned from a young age that one had to be tough to make it to adolescence. From a little tyke he was observant and resourceful, able to find the way out of the playpen or the best route to the snacks that weren’t to be gotten into. He also learned at a young age to fight for what he wanted. It has its ups and downs; he is unyielding and often keeps to his desires, thus fulfilling his wants and needs, but on the same hand, he can be manipulating to get what he wants at the expense of others.

Past girlfriends have complained about his jealous nature; to that, he denies their allegations. Tavin just knows what he likes and doesn’t want anyone else to like it or lust after it; he always horded his toys as a child as well. He figures that he’s not jealous to the point of insane; he just likes it when no other man looks at his girlfriend as if they are something they have any possibility of being with. Just the same, however, he prefers to do things alone, yearning for independence since he could walk. It’s an interesting balance; he fights for someone’s company, only to be distracted by a one-person activity.

Though they complain about his easily jealous nature, girls don’t seem to mind his loyal and passionate traits. His family is first, friends second, and any enemy of either had better watch their back. On the same hand, he has always been the one that at family get-togethers would get all the kids together and play; whether it be rough housing or collaborating on a game, he finds it both a good outlet of pent up energy and stress and a way to spend time with family.

When it comes to work, he has been raised to believe it is the second most important thing next to family. He will often obsess over it; some might call him a workaholic, but he denies the allegation—he simply puts his heart into it because he believes in it. He uses his resourcefulness and observant attitude to bring out the best results he can. Over the years, he’s learned to use his negative traits to also help in his career; when you don’t back down and can talk your way out of (or into) just about anything… you can do his job very well.

History:

Gertie Poole wasn’t always such an old and bitter librarian. Once upon a time, she was a very sweet and delectable young woman who had numerous men courting her. A spontaneous and career orientated pureblood, some thought she was being too forward; women having jobs at the same level as men? Perhaps that is why she worked best in the Department of Mysteries. Tavin didn’t hear a lot of stories about her growing up, just the occasional interjection of a time she remembered being a bit more carefree.

Still, she married at a respectable age, held a career, and had two sons with Alfred Y. Poole II. Their oldest, Alfred Y. Poole III, was born in 1945, and their youngest, Malcolm H. Poole, Senior was born in 1948. Gertie’s husband, Alfred, had investments and held parties with other well known pureblood families frequently, and their sons were raised around the blood purist ideal; Alfred III came to expect it, and Malcolm felt he wanted a little more to life than fancy robes and stuffy parlors with smoke and enough wine to drown away anyone’s problems.

In the fifties, Alfred Y. Poole II was often gone on ‘business trips.’ He was working to ‘set a few wrongs,’ as he told his boys when they asked. Then one sunny day, July sixteenth of 1956, one of the fellows that the boys often saw at the parties showed up without their father. Gertie took the news that her husband had perished on some assignment very well, only shedding a few tears after the man had gone. At the funeral, she took it with the same stead fast frown that became more accustomed to her face the older she got.

After his time in Hogwarts, Malcolm joined the Ministry in the Magical Creatures department, seeking adventure. His brother followed in his mother’s footsteps at the Department of Mysteries and was quite irritated with her younger son for his foolhardy choice to become a dragon tamer. No respectable pureblood would get their hands dirty in such a laborious field, she had said. Nonetheless, he thrived in it.

By 1970, he had married Catherine Adair and secretly pledged his allegiance to the Dark Lord. It was either that, or fear for his family for choosing to be neutral or against them; it was a scary time. They stayed in Scandinavia, where Malcolm could easily work without a far commute, as well as keep his small family from much harm. By 1975, the twins were born, Gertrude and Susan Poole. The family’s cottage could accommodate for small get togethers, and before Tavin was born, the twins got a taste for sociable events, as well as their grandmother’s heeding words. It was a pureblood upbringing.

When Tavin came along in the early winter of 1979, the family was bustling with the anxiety and thrill of the war. Friends were lost, enemies were vanquished, and it seemed as if the Dark Lord couldn’t be beaten. Though he doesn’t recall it, his sisters talk about how happy the parties were, how frequent they were, how much their grandmother smiled. What he recalls the most is the abrupt end of the first wizarding war; he remembers the hiss of Harry Potter at the less than frequent social events his grandmother held, a lot quieter than his excitable sisters recalled, and bordering on depressing.

Even with defeat, everyone held to the belief, at least in the beginning, that there was still a fighting chance. More and more were carted off to Azkaban, and Tavin saw even fewer when he sat straight backed, bored out of his little mind with his scratchy robes done up all the way to his chin at his grandmother’s. She still put on a friendly front, however, having little else to keep her busy but work and planning the next big event. She gave Tavin and his sisters a schooling quite frequently in mannerisms, cultural expectations, and a general idea of how society worked. She didn’t think Malcolm was giving them the proper schooling way out in the middle of nowhere.

She also attempted to force Tavin into enjoying the piano. He found himself bored, spending hours at the bench. It wasn’t that he couldn’t learn it; she had taught him herself, after all. He just had no desire. It wasn’t until he was seven that she realized he might be better served with something else, and somehow he stumbled upon the drums. An underlying rhythm, it felt more like him. He started to get a feel of different drums, enjoying the free spirited feeling of bongos over the repetitive and loud tones of a snare drum.

It only got worse when, in 1983, her oldest son was given the Kiss for crimes against muggles, muggleborns, and halfbloods that transpired during the First Wizarding War. Though he wasn’t allowed in the proceedings, that was the first and last time he recalled seeing his grandmother shed a tear. He hadn’t married, hadn’t had children; the younger man hadn’t attempted to wiggle his way out of persecution, and didn’t regret a thing.

Due to his father’s location, Tavin attended (along with his sisters) Durmstrang. A lot of the children there were known to him from both family names he’d had to memorize growing up as well as the close proximity that many of them lived to one another. School was fairly uneventful, except for the Triwizard Tournament in 1994. At the age of fifteen, he wasn’t old enough to attend, but heard about it through friends owls who did go.

Leaving Durmstrang with top marks in a handful of subjects, it became a question of what he would do. The Dark Lord was back, and his grandmother, who had become less of a social owl and more of a contemplating old woman, receding into the libraries of the Ministry, was neither urging or stopping him from joining up. Susan married a young, headstrong quidditch player with a colorful pureblood background who was attempting to get in the good graces of his superiors to earn a dark mark.

With nothing else to do, and not yet ready to join one side over another, Tavin took a few months to himself as he traveled over Europe and Russia. His sister Gertrude went with him, and together they decided once they got back that they had a duty to at least uphold the family ideals. Though their father did not berate them for the choice, he did not give them his support, instead watching from the sidelines and hoping that they would both come back unscathed.

When the Dark Lord was defeated a second time by Harry Potter, there was a period of uncertainty for Tavin. He was pulled in for questioning, and to keep them from suspecting his sister, he gave in to their questioning and admitted to joining up. After a week in a holding cell, he was visited by an ‘old family friend,’ as they called themselves. That was when he was offered the chance to get out of persecution.

The only catch was that he was to join up for the Department of Mysteries. Though he never asked his Grandmother, Tavin assumes she had a hand in helping him get off his charges. She knew how well he’d done in school, his personality, and his potential. She wasn’t quite as bitter as some might think, or as much as she might even suspect.

Since then, Tavin has kept much to himself. A reserved man to begin with, he finds spending time with his family to be the best cure for too much work. In early 2003, he met the woman who he thought was to be his perfect match. She had all the ideals his family would approve of, came from a good, respectable family, and had a good job. She turned out to be a complete witch, however, and the only good thing that came out of their relationship was a little girl, Samantha, who was born on the first of April, 2004.

When he gets to see her, he tries to enjoy their time together; it isn’t his parents first grandchild, but Tavin is partial to thinking she is the cutest. Taking after her father, her voice carries a tune, though it is a bit more angelic than Tavin’s. He has yet to find out if she has a knack for using her hands, and has tried to stop her mum from punishing her with piano lessons.

What is your job description? How do you go about your job?
How did you get your current job? How does your past and abilities justify your current position?:

Nine years ago, Tavin was searching for a way out. The Department of Mysteries offered him a clean slate, and thus he joined readily. Perhaps it was the family connections, perhaps it was a favor or two called, and perhaps it was because the Ministry had bigger fish to fry; all that mattered was that he had the job, and he worked hard to keep it.

As an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries: Potion and Herbological Research Office, Tavin is not at liberty to divulge the wonders he deals with on a daily basis. Suffice to say that he uses herbology and potion ingredients to further the science and magic of future concoctions. And further the lives of all wizarding folk. That load of dragon dung.

Writing Sample:
Show your character in a scene that illustrates the best and worst aspects
of their personality. Include action, dialog and thought.

His arms reached high above his head as he felt some tension lift away, leaning back as his hands attempted to reach for the ground behind him. A satisfied groan left his lips, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the stretch. That’s the spot. Springing back to his previous, up straight posture, he grinned goofily and put a hand in his pocket, jingling the few knuts he had left over from his coffee break.

Tavin was looking forward to the rest of the day, though. He felt as if he was making some headway in his most current case. So little was known about the different uses for unicorn parts, considering how protected they were. He only really got to handle the expensive ingredients when one was found dead or passed away. He looked at it with a critical eye, however, and accepted that eventually, everyone moved on. He just got to further his research in this instance.

That just meant he would be working longer. It also made him a little sad; he was supposed to take Sammy to dinner. A small frown graced his face as he pondered how he’d get out of it, staring into what was left of his coffee. Tilting the cup slightly, watching the liquid swirl slowly, he finally let out a noisy breath and finished the mug off, waving at the barista before walking towards the Ministry.

Surely her mum would be able to watch her… She had to understand that Tavin had a lot of work to do. Working for the Department of Mysteries sometimes left its employees in as much mystery about how long they might be in the office and what exactly they might be up to today. His luck, however, would be that Kelly, Samantha’s mother, would take it to mean he didn’t want to spend time with his daughter, which was insane.

Being a workaholic and a father was tough work. Couldn’t please everyone… Once back into the familiar walls of the Ministry, he waited impatiently for the lift. No matter; he’d just owl her and deal with the angry words she sent back. Smirking at that, he didn’t think about a howler until the doors shut on him, his smirk falling a bit.

Sum up your character in one paragraph:

A reserved young man, Tavin finds all work and no play to be just what the healer ordered. Or perhaps he’s just stuck in a rut, looking for a way out. He loves work, but also used to enjoy nights out on the town, random trips to small towns and villages wherever a worn road might take him, or hours spent making up a new beat or song. Perhaps what he is looking for is a jump start in his life. Or the next big potion concoction…