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Messages - Chiara Novelli

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I would have filled out a help desk ticket for this, but that is one of my technical issues.

1. I can't access the help desk. It does not appear on the top bar and I have asked one of the members to link me to it, and received an error message that I don't have permission to access the help desk.

2. I can't link an avatar to my account. Under "Personalised Photo" there is the single option of "No Avatar"

3. When I first stumbled across the site I created an account which I ended up not using at all and I don't intend to use it in the future, would it be possible to have this account either deleted or re-named?

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Elsewhere Accepted / Chiara Novelli -- Adult
« on: 08/03/2014 at 16:57 »

E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Chiara Novelli (pronounced Kya-ra)
Gender: Female
Age: 23

Education: 
Seven years at Eisenstab Hexengymnasium. (OOC Note: I didn’t find any school for Western Europe so I assumed that this would be the one closest to Italy. I also assumed that it would be a seven-year education like Hogwarts.)

Residence:
Originally from Trento, lived for the past five years in Pavia and has now moved to a town called Leek in central England anticipating Italy’s decision to join the war.

Occupation
Professional Magical Scribe. Some magical texts cannot be printed and have to be copied out by hand using the appropriate quills and inks.

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the Ministry, Shrieking Shack) or to take over an existing shop in need of new management?
Chiara would probably continue her work as a scribe if she can.

Requested Magic Levels:
Adult characters have 32 starting levels to distribute across these four categories (less levels can be used if you so desire, but no more than 32). The number of levels on the lowest ability must be at least half of the highest ability.

If you want levels above the usual 32 total, or a significantly uneven distribution of starting levels, please fill out and submit the Special Request form here.

  • Charms: 6
  • Divination: 12
  • Transfiguration: 7
  • Summoning: 7
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
With the NPC wizard family who are related to her late husband and with her late husband’s 13 year-old little sister, Francesca Cappa (also an NPC right now but I may apply her as a student at the school)

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
None

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
”Chiara, dear God, are you telling me that Giovanni is —“

“Dead. Yes. Murdered.” Chiara said uncrossing her legs so she could rise to her feet and walk to the window. She moved the curtain aside a fraction to look outside, gently balancing a thin cigarette between the fingers of her other hand. Plumes of smoke rose about her, she quickly let the curtain fall. “Who killed him? Why? I would like to know as well. Of course, that will not change the fact that he is already dead.”

She turned her back to the window, bringing the cigarette to her lips, sucking in the smoke and breathing it out. A small crinkle appeared between her brows, her brown eyes empty and distant. “I remember a time when people didn’t die so easily and quietly.”

“This is very upsetting.” Stated Fred Webster, leaning back to sit on the corner of his desk as he massaged his thigh and took in the news. “Very upsetting.” he repeated, looking up at her. “Was it…? Could it have been that business in Hungary?”

“I made a list of all the things it could have been,” Chiara knew English well, but she was still a stranger to the language. She spoke each word with care and tried to hide her accent as best she could. Yet on occasion, while speaking about such distressing matters, a soft “eh” sound came at the ends of almost all the words and the English language hopped, stressed, stretched softly and musically as if it were almost Italian. “I was surprised, it was a long list. But I’m not the Italian Ministry of Magic or intelligent enough to unravel a mystery. You will be happy to know, Fred Webster, that in the end, you were the only one not on the list.”

“I don’t think I can be happy to know anything right now.” He breathed a sigh, shaking his head from side to side. “This was around November, you say?”

“Yes. Francesca, my grandmother and I stayed on in Pavia. I thought to hide us as nuns in Certosa di Pavia if their absurd war came to Italy, or join the other wizarding folk in Padova. But enough time passed for me to form a better plan. I didn’t know who to trust in Padova and Roma. I decided to come to you if Italy joined the war.”

“But Italy hasn’t joined the war yet.” Mr. Webster said.

“They will. Paris will fall and then Italy will join the war this will happen around June. You know of my nonna’s prophecies. She always says that every prophecy is a lie until it has already happened, but everything she ever prophesied has come true.”

“Why didn’t she come with you?”

Chiara smirked, making her face seem gentler than before. She was a tall and attractive young woman, fashionable in her own way with wavy brown hair falling past her shoulders, portraying ease and elegance. To be a widow at 23, to look after her young sister-in-law and to practically flee her own home were harsh realities to bear, and that harshness seemed to be fixed somewhere on her face alongside her natural friendliness. “That old hag wouldn’t move from Pavia if the world were to end. And to move because of a war between muggles? You have met her, you know how she thinks.”

Webster coughed and scratched his nose, “Martha won’t like it, prepare yourself to be glared at. She always hated unexpected visitors, I don’t know how she’ll deal with ones that have come to stay.”

“You won’t have to worry about me,” Chiara said, walking up to the desk and extinguishing her cigarette in the crystal ashtray. She looked up at Webster thoughtfully, “I will soon find my own place nearby. But Francesca needs you, you are her last living family.”

“It’s very unfortunate that my sister and her husband —“ Webster began to say.

“It was their own fault for provoking Cairoli, my parents too. But it all happened ten years ago. Things aren’t as hot-blooded between families as they were back then.”

She walked across the room, her black high heeled shoes tapping over the wooden flooring and opened her brown leather handbag, pulling out a glass bottle filled with amber liquid. “A present, for you. Grappa.” she handed it to him, he turned the bottle over, staring at the label.

“Giovanni always brought me this kind,” Webster said, he continued staring at it for a long moment in silence. Finally, he lifted it, presenting it before Chiara. “Shall we have ourselves a taste?”

She was already with another cigarette at her lips and tapping it with the end of her wand to light it. She made no comment as he came to bring her the glass, she smoked quietly and stressfully. Then she awoke from her thoughts and smiled at Webster. She was attractive, but wasn’t beautiful unless she smiled. “To Giovanni Cappa,” she said, raising her class in her left hand. She was still wearing the simple gold wedding band on her ring finger. “Salute.”




Roleplay: 
You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character:


Option Two -
The snow had been falling steadily all morning and it didn't look like it was going to stop any time soon. Joshua Campbell scrunched his face up in a frown as he lifted his gaze to look to the sky. Snow. It really was quite a bother.

And it certainly didn't make it better that Diagon Alley seemed to be getting more and more crowded. Joshua sighed and pointed his wand at the large box that was currently placed on the doorstep of his shop. He had to get going. He had an order to deliver.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The elderly man muttered and watched the box hover in the air for a moment. Honestly, did St. Mungo's really need that much tinsel? And with glitter of all things? He sighed again. If it hadn't been for the rather convincing stamp on the order, he would have been likely to believe it had been a prank by one of those orphaned rascals living up there. 

Oh well, there was no point in waiting. Joshua deftly stirred the box down the doorstep and out onto the street, carefully levitating it above the heads of the crowd.

"Coming through! Coming through!" His voice sounded over the chatter of the crowd. "Keep out! Move ahead! Go on!" This was going way too slow. People were in the way and walking like they had all day! He huffed. Luckily the road was down hill.

"Coming through! Coming th--- arrrgh!" Joshua let out a loud shout as his feet suddenly slipped in the snow and sent him, the box, and several long strands of tinsel tumbling into the person who had been walking in front of him.

"For Merlin's sake!" Joshua muttered angrily as he hurried to his feet again, red and gold tinsel now decorating his black coat. "I am so sorry! This blasted snow!" He looked apologetic at the person he had crashed into.

Roleplay Response:
Type your response here.
There was not an abundance of professional scribes in the world, not of her calibre anyway. Why than was finding work in England so tedious? It was truly winter now, so much time had passed, and where was she?

The cold was not a stranger, neither was the snow. Chiara Novelli used to love snow, because it meant that it was time to go skiing. She used to love the winter, because it meant Christmas would come soon. She used to love more things than not. But here, why did the snow seem so bleak? And why did the cold seem to seep deeply into her skin despite her fine fur cloak? Why was the evening in England so much darker than at home?

If she did not know any better, Chiara would have thought that perhaps she was homesick, perhaps a little depressed and lonely. But of course, this was absurd. There was nothing for her now in Pavia, nothing in Trento either. She had to restart her life and go on living it. Albeit, this fresh start filled her with stress. She paused, stopping in the middle of the street so she could light the cigarette that had been dangling between her lips for the past five minutes.

The impact was preposterous, it sent a jolt through her entire body, making her skid forward, flailing about as she tried to keep her balance despite the snow and the fact that even now her fine camel-coloured leather booties had a heel of no less than 8 cm.

But she would not fall. She firmly explained to her body that as long as she wanted to stand on her feet, she would remain that way. She waited a moment to see if all was well. “Allora,” she said before turning to regard the sparkling man as he was scrambling to his feet. The damage to the other party was much more severe, he had fallen after all. She was not angry in the least bit, and smiled at his apology. “But are you alright, sir? Not hurt?”

OTHER
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