E L S E W H E R E A D U L T
CHARACTER INFORMATIONCharacter Name: Tessa Anderssen
FC: Lynn GunnGender: Female
Age: 25
Blood Status: Muggleborn
Education: Ilvermorny; class of '46. Horned Serpent House.
Residence: Her permanent residence is in Boston, Massachusettes. Her temporary residence whilst in Britain, however, is a small studio apartment in Oxford.
OccupationPrivate Investigator (+ prospective Hogwarts Professor)
Previously:Auror; MACUSA.
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?Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Requested Magic Levels:- Charms: 7
- Divination: 10
- Transfiguration: 6[/i]
- Summoning: 9
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason? Not Applicable.
Please list any other characters you already have at the site:Helen Kane, Thijs Marchen, Adeline de VauquelinBiography: (300 words minimum.)Dark ash from a smoked cigar was strewn across the living room, just where she was facing.
yes, there, over the burnished wood and onto the windowsill. The smell of it lingered in the air. If Tessa closed her eyes and splayed her fingers, she could feel the remaining vibrations of life linger the room.
There were fingertips smudged on the broken glass, impressions left frozen in time.
deep; defined; they were pressed in a panic. Much like the rest of the room, Tessa could feel the echoes of a presence haunting around it, pulling her attention from one side of the room to the other.
And even further along, minuscule chips of glass embedded in the panelled wall.
forced into the wood by explosive force; bombarda or reducto. Tessa's fingers mapped the nocks and relief when her mind stood elsewhere.
Tessa's partner ambled uneasily by the door.
"We need to leave, Tessa," he said, and looked out past the front door-- 3 and a half thousand years blown open, and barely hanging onto the rusted hinges, "This wasn't part of the assignment."
"Relax, Josef," she said, and moved back over towards the windowsill.
the temperature drops; the tourmaline hums. this part of the room resonates loudest. "We'll only be here another moment."
"What are you even doing?" Josef was impatient; his voice flecked through with dark anxiety. Tessa was not surprised-- even No-Majs were susceptible to spirits.
"Someone was murdered here," Tessa said, and stood back to watch the evidence laid out in front of her.
he had been smoking; tried to escape through the window when the prosecutors knocked at his door; blown it open when the glass didn't break. There was no need for a trial."Murdered?" Josef sounded incredulous, "This house has stood empty for a couple of thousand years, Tess. You know there's rumours of it being
haunted?"
Tessa smirked, and turned back to the panelled wall with a smirk. "Wouldn't surprise me," She said.
The curtains fluttered, then, and the piece of tourmaline in Tessa's pocket glowed warm. She breathed in through her nose, released through her mouth.
Josef faced the empty road outside the house and a ghost emerged from behind the moulding curtains.
He was young, barely twenty, and he looked like Tessa's father. Fair blonde hair turned silver, a slight build and distinct Scandinavian features. There was a cigar in his hand; rope friction around his throat. The ghost hovered by the window, and Tessa felt a deep cold seeping into her body.
"Say," Josef turned back and the ghost melted into the wall, "Didn't you say this house was raided during the Salem Witch Trials?"
Tessa turned away from the window. Cold energy lingered around her spine, but the tourmaline offset it slightly, and left her bones
just warm enough to feel like her own.
It was time to leave.
"Let's go," she said, and Josef exhaled a sigh of relief.
"Thank God," he said, and lead out through the decimated front door, "I was beginning to feel like we were being watched."
Tessa turned in the doorjamb. The ghost was already standing by the window, watching.
"I'll find out who murdered you," she vowed to him; to the only Anderssen who was never born as one, "I'll bring you peace."
Willard Anderssen tipped his head, and the tourmaline in her pocket hummed until the closing of her palm stilled it.
His eyes were on her long after she'd left the house.
Roleplay: 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 downhill.
"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:footprints left in a haste; weighed by something large. recent.Even at Christmas, three thousand miles removed from home, Tessa felt the urge to slip back into aged rhythms.
But she was not working, and the man in front of her was not a suspect, and there was no grieving family thirsting anxious for justice. There were no ghosts haunting her today; no crystals in her pockets necessary. Nothing but a grey sky, and bodies excited for Christmas.
The holiday itself was far from her mind; she was occupied, rather, by the shopping list written hastily on the palm of her hand.
white sage; dried. rosemary; dried. ginseng and mint leaves for tea.Somehow, she ended in front of the man she'd been tailing, and what followed was merely the universe's predestined course.
He slid, and yelped, and the box of tinsel hit the ground at such an angle that Tessa, backed up tight in the throng of people, felt herself promptly collided into and covered in tinsel.
He muttered a litany of curses and apologies (
saint christopher; turned twice in the palm and pressed between thumb and forefinger) and Tessa turned to face him. Her smile stood apologetic, already apprehending the emotions he would turn onto her when this collision was predestined, and a mere inconvenience at best.
"Oh, it's alright," she said, and pressed the hand she's blessed with Saint Christopher to his shoulder, "It's nothing. Won't you let me give you a hand?"
OTHERHow did you find us?
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