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Born: 17 February 1990
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Alias: Crystal
Age: 27
Timezone: CST
Mature: Yes
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Character's Age: 36
Gender: Male
Blood Status: Half Blood
Relationship Status: Single
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Nickname: Thorir
Former School: Durmstrang
Joined: 4-November 17
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: Mar 13 2018, 12:54 AM
Local Time: Mar 19 2018, 08:29 PM
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Thorir Nystrom

Durmstrang Staff

My Content
Mar 13 2018, 12:54 AM
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It was difficult to know for certain, but being away from Durmstrang - and Sweden - seemed to be doing good for him. Thorir had found himself feeling more energetic in the past month. He felt like he had when he was a zoologist. Eager to perform his job, and wanting to chase after any opportunities that came his way. He’d even made attempts to be there for his students more often. Helping those who asked for assistance, providing support, or doing whatever it was that was needed of him. To make things better his moods were less dreary, making him more approachable and less...less intimidating. Or at least that was the impression he hoped he gave off.
To put things straight, Tor felt a change in his own mindset. The different environment was helping him relax more, and with each passing day, he thought he could feel it more and more.
The end of winter was within sight as evidenced by the slowly melting snow. Out of all the places he’d frequented in the area around Hogwarts, Tor had found himself spending very little time in Hogsmeade. For once he’d found himself taking advantage of the weekend to visit the village. Wandering through the streets, the tall blonde Swede kept took care to avoid bumping into any students who scurried past him. He manuvered his body to be wary of bumping into anyone he passed by while keeping an eye out for a place to stop by for a drink.
It was only a short walk before he approached the Three Broomsticks. Judging by how many customers went inside, there was no question that it was a popular establishment. Whether or not it would suit his own taste was another question, but he had faith that it would provide a perfect environment for him. A place to relax and forget the stresses of work for awhile, and kick back and enjoy a drink or two. That was all he needed.
Pushing the door open, he made his way inside. Eyes observed the interior silently before he made his way to the front counter. When it was his turn to place an order Tor decided to go with a bottle of butterbeer for the time being. He wasn’t in the mood for anything too strong, no matter how tempting the firewhiskey might be. That could wait for later when he wanted a little more kick and not a drink he could relax with.
He accepted the beverage once it was brought to him, paying for it while offering a smile to the employee who had served him. With drink in hand he turned around and immediately set out to find a table to sit at. Walking through the rows, Tor took notice as to exactly how busy the Three Broomsticks was. Students meeting with friends at one table, and another contained adults discussing business. There was a wide range of individuals inside, with the crowd only making it more difficult to find an empty table for himself.
It only took another few minutes for him to locate a table, one in a back corner and near a window much to his surprise. With long strides Tor moved toward it, wasting no time grabbing a seat and claiming it for himself. It was a perfect location to sit, one that helped him relax right away. Butterbeer in hand, he opened his bottle and took a sip, savouring the flavour as it hit his lips.
Tor turned toward the window to observe some passersby, then turned to glance around the interior of the bar. His afternoon seemed to be going perfect so far. The weather hadn’t been terrible and he’d managed to take advantage of a break to relax. It was what he needed. Taking another sip of his drink, Tor allowed a small smile to grace his features. He turned back to look out the window enjoying the views of the village from his corner inside. Even if he didn’t mind being alone, Tor felt a need to go out and socialize more. Maybe once he was finished he’d seek out one of the other Professors who had travelled down to Hogsmeade. Or perhaps company would find him in the bar. Whatever came first he’d be fine with.


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OPEN ◭ come chill with Tor
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Dec 8 2017, 01:11 AM
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<center> <div style="width: 250px; font-size: 15px; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 4px; font-family: times; color: #2d2d2d; line-height: 136%;"> <i>take my mind and take my pain</i> </div>

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Two years. Two years had passed since his father had died. Another year where Thorir wouldn’t see the man during the holidays. He wouldn’t reluctantly accept whatever gift his dad had purchased for him, knowing immediately that he’d most likely put it to use. It was always the thought that counted, but he hated the thought of things collecting dust. Hated being reminded of just how different they were. His father had been a researcher. Someone who had pursued knowledge, and dreamed of becoming an accomplished alchemist one day. It was a dream the man had wanted to share with him.
But he couldn’t. That lifestyle wasn’t for him. It was a fact that had led to many arguments between the two of them. Thorir’s last interaction with his dad had been an argument. A fight that ended with him calling his father a fool and his research pointless before storming out of the house. And then a month later the man died in an explosion because of his own experiments. Died while he was too busy running away and avoiding family. It was his biggest regret in life. One that he could never make right.
If only he had been there, then maybe he could have saved his old man. The two might have fought afterward, but he would have been there. He wouldn’t have been off looking for magical creatures when his family needed him most. It was his fault. All of it was his fault.
The graveyard was as quiet as always. Thorir stood there, looking down at his father’s grave as the wind blew through his hair. A hand reached into the closest pocket in search of alcohol that wasn’t there, the desire for a drink fighting to overcome him. He may have fallen to drugs and liquor because of the guilt, but these visits he refused to give in to those demons. It felt disrespectful. Just visiting helped to lessen the pain, and he felt like he was making up for all his past mistakes by stopping by.
Seeing his father was becoming a new holiday tradition in a strange, twisted way. A tradition that he’d continue for however long his demons chased after him, and even longer still. He owed it to the man who had helped raised him. He was alone by choice. It had been a challenge to force himself to go alone, but something he needed to do. Remaining sobered up had been another challenge, one that he hadn’t been sure that he would have had the strength to go through with.
But he had. With Hanna’s help, he had managed to store away the poisons for a few hours at least. That was enough for him. No doubt he’d embrace them once more once he returned, desiring nothing but to get high off some acid or drunk off his ass from a few bottles of whiskey. He could already hear his sister berating him. Calling him an idiot for falling back onto drugs almost immediately after visiting his father’s grave. It was an insult. He was aware of that, but it would no less happen. Not unless he managed to recover. Managed to recover and overcome the demons that he’d allowed to embrace him.
<b> “I’m sorry I’m later Dad,”</b> Thorir spoke in Swedish, fighting back tears that tried to leak out of his eyes. It had been two years so far, and visiting still hadn’t become any easier. Just one look at the gravestone, reading his father’s name was enough to break him. <b> “I needed to seek out Hanna’s help with something. I had urges…demons to hold back.” </b> Voice remained calm but filled with guilt, yet he didn’t feel ashamed to share it. Rather it was comforting. Almost like have a heart to heart with his father, or should have been. He had been too late in trying to bond with the man, but just being there felt like he was making up for lost time.
Feet shuffled against the grass covered ground, as he shifted to look up toward the cloud filled sky. It was going to snow soon. Something about the way the clouds moved hinted to as much, as did the way the temperature had lowered in the past few hours. <b> “You always liked the snow, didn’t you dad?”</b> It was a harmless memory, maybe one of the few things they had in common. <b>“I know you’d probably get on me for saying this but….”</b> Thorir cut himself off as the tears began to fall. He cried then and there, no longer able to hold them back.
<b>“But I’m sorry.”</b> He blurted out, knees buckling below him. The blonde-haired man fell to the ground, kneeling before the gravestone. <b>“I’m sorry for not being there. For not being there to help you.”</b> All the guilt and emotions poured out of him, feelings that he’d normally try to hold back. <b>“It’s my fault…I should have been there. Should have…but instead, I ran away. I ran away like a coward.”</b>
Did he hate himself for what he did? Yes. That last fight with his father would always be his greatest regret, something in which he didn’t think he would ever get over. <b>“I’m glad I came here though.”</b> He added in, as he pushed himself back to the ground. <b>“It’s what I needed. I feel like I’m finally being a good son. That we’re finally bonding in some strange way.”</b> Sniffling he wiped away some tears, as a smile crossed his features. <b>“So, I’ll keep doing it. Every year we’ll have Christmas together, and I’ll make up for being a rotten son. Make up for all the times I fought with you and insulted your research.”</b>
With that promise made he nodded at the grave once more before saying goodbye. The skies were only growing darker as night began to take over. He’d keep his promise though. Every word he’d uttered had felt true, like something he needed to do. With so many regrets, this was one thing he needed. He needed to keep up the tradition, to not let it only be a two-year thing. Next year he’d be back, and then the following, and every year after that. He owed that much to his father.
Owed it to himself.
The guilt would always linger over him, but given time maybe he’d learn to forgive himself.


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Nov 12 2017, 06:17 PM
Bars weren’t a frequent location in which Thorir found himself visiting often, but sometimes it felt like a necessity. After a long day at work, teaching classes, helping students who were struggling, and caring for magical creatures, sometimes he found himself craving a drink or two. It was just the alcohol he found himself holding a desire for. It was the social scene. He spent so much time around teenagers, that adult company was more than welcome during the evening. If he was lucky he’d try to have a chat with one of his fellow professors, but more often than not he also wanted to simply leave the school grounds for a few hours. To get some fresh air and see the world outside

Thorir entered the tavern, and immediately set off looking for a space to sit down at. It was rather quiet that evening. No hustle and bustle of customers moving in and out, so his search wasn’t too difficult. This was always the best time to stop by. When it was quiet, and he could take his time without feeling like he was taking too much time. Or making someone wait for their preferred table to open up. He could think to himself if need; most of the other people there were more likely to want a conversation with a stranger. It meant there were fewer people who only wanted to meet with friends, and conversation was usually kept moderately quiet from table to table. He had come at the best time for sure.

Taking a seat at a table near a large window, he glanced at the menu while waiting for a waiter to arrive to take his order. Once they did he ordered a firewhiskey for himself and nothing else. Thorir allowed himself to get lost in this thoughts for the minutes that passed by while he was waiting; reflecting on his day, and trying not to think of the papers he had to grade. He may not have assigned essays often in his classes, but there were times when it was necessary. Like the times when he went into detail about the specific details of how to distinguish different breeds of dragons, or how to properly tend to a unicorn’s wounds. On the bright side grading essays kept his mind off other issues in his life. The last thing he needed to do was think about his ex-girlfriend, Katarina. He didn’t need to be reminded of his little girl who he may never get to see; to watch her grow up into a beautiful young lady he could be proud of.

He was brought back to the present as the waiter arrived, setting his firewhiskey down before him. Thorir looked at it briefly, as if trying to decipher if it was made to perfection by mere observations alone. Several seconds passed by before he finally took a drink. It wasn’t so bad. As the liquid burned down his throat, Thorir instantly felt like coming to the bar had been the right choice. He needed this. Needed to get out of the castle, and enjoy being away from the institute for at least a few hours. He took another swig from his glass, as someone stopped near his table for a moment. Looking up to meet their eyes, Thorir did his best to offer a polite smile in their direction. “Hey there. Nice night for a drink, isn’t it?” He greeted deciding to at least make some attempt at socializing. He couldn’t say he was expecting a response, but when in a bar he might as well do his best to try to enjoy it while he could.
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