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Welcome to Hogwarts School :: A Harry Potter RPG! It's 1950!
Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG
Topic: Prudence Engel (Read 296 times)
(26/12/2014 at 08:11)
E L S E W H E R E A D U L T
23, May 14, 1920.
Privately tutored since she was four.
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?
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
the usual 32 total, or a significantly uneven distribution of starting levels, please fill out and submit the Special Request form
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
I currently play Caius Thorne.
Biography: (300 words minimum.)
Were it not for the unfortunate tragedy that befell her sister, Prue would’ve been a twin. She remembered her father telling her how she must’ve strangled her twin sister in their mother’s womb but he also reminded her not to feel bad about it - the strong survived, after all. Her parents had tried for years after her birth but Mrs. Engel was already barren by then. Nevertheless, Prue had a pleasant childhood. She wasn’t a lonely child for she always found ways to entertain herself. The children next door would often come over for playdates, and little Prue loved their wonderful company.
Her father worked a desk job in Gringotts while her mother believed that a woman’s role was confined to the kitchen. Her parents were quite traditional, they resisted against change so when she turned eleven, they didn’t allow her to attend Hogwarts or any other magical institution. They wanted to keep their only child untainted, shielded from the dangers that the outside world might bring. Prue did not protest, their backyard was her world and her parents, gods. She was their little angel and nothing in this world would ever change that.
A governess was hired to provide her with the best education her parents could afford. Her neighbours had stopped coming over then, she was forbidden to make any sort of contact with them, or anyone else deemed unacceptable by her parents. Even her playtime was cut short to make way for her studies. Unless left to her own devices, Prudence was kept busy with her schoolwork. Despite the control her parents exerted over her, she wanted for nothing but she longed for company, in whatever form it may come in.
It was very good - her life. Except for when night came. Whenever darkness seeped in through the windows and saturated her little room in shadows, horrible things happened to her. They were too awful to think about even now, and Prue admitted that the things in her past had made her a little too strange.
They were monsters; they creeped under her bed and uttered her name in ghastly whispers. The morning after brought confusion, a curious scent lingered in the air - these details never made sense to her young, obedient mind.
Sometimes there would be strays loitering in their backyard, accidental or not, Mama would call them pests. They never had servants, they would have if they didn’t end up dead a few weeks later, so Mama begged her to get rid of them – Mama reacted to the furry ones the most, they gave her hives. She was alright with snakes, however, and sometimes they kept them as pets. There was an adder called Amelia, and Mama would extract venom from her. Tea was served right after.
At age fourteen, her father had developed a strange malady that slowly affected his mind. Her mother would sometimes tell her how his brain was rotting from the inside, and Prue laughed and sometimes, her mother would join in, too. They never sent him to St. Mungos, afraid of the strange concoctions they would give Mr. Engel. Mrs. Engel knew a little about herbs and had taught her daughter some helpful brews, and specially for her husband, Mrs. Engel made something that would ‘kill the maggots in his brain’. Mrs. Engel made sure to serve it with his dinner.
Prue’s father died a year later and Mrs. Engel mourned him loudly at his private funeral. Prue did not cry at all. The house was a lot quieter with her father gone, and she preferred it this way. Now that Papa was rotting 6 feet into the ground, she didn't have to fear her isolation. A few months after, her own governess succumbed to the same fate. Her mother mumbled something about unfaithfulness and quoted something from the Bible. Mama never quoted the Bible, she hated the damned book.
Under the tutelage of a new governess, Prue was introduced to the Dark Arts. While it was frowned upon by the wizarding society, Mrs. Engel encouraged Prue to pursue the subject. They practiced in secrecy, darkness was a fiend but in desperate times, it was an ally. She also excelled in herbalism, potions, and toxicology, the latter she’d acquired from rifling through her mother’s diaries. Mama had been wicked but perhaps she had to be. She thought the apple didn’t fall far from the tree; she was a lot like her mother, physically and mentally. The only difference between them was that Mama was now dead and she was not. It was not known how she died; no one else was there to find out anyway.
The events of 1937 had caused some confusion but it hadn’t affected her intensively. She noticed lapses in her memory but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, something about numbers not adding up. The matter was insignificant, however, and was put out of mind and out of sight.
When she turned 18, after having finished with her studies, Prue travelled the world to further her knowledge in exotic plants and their uses. She also collected samples of all sorts of venom – and not all of them were legally acquired. Some came through Muggle means, and while Prue was taught to despise the lot, she didn’t despise their usefulness in discretion. The war made it difficult to travel, and with a Germanic surname like hers, the Muggles (and Wizarding community alike) sure gave her hell. Having a snake for company made it even more difficult, unconventional pets were not most people’s cup of tea. It took a lot of self-control not to get rid of them, too many dead bodies to bury.
Three years later, she returned to the UK and set up her business in the basement of a small, but luxurious apartment in Belgravia where she now resides. She was only 21 and it took a while for her services to be made known in the Wizarding world – it was a cloak and dagger operation, of course. During the day or when she’s not actively manning her cauldron, she drags herself from one posh party to another. The world taught her to be bold, that connections were as essential as oxygen, and having come from money, she slipped into the role of a socialite whose family tree was reasonably well-affiliated and untainted. None of that mattered, though. All one had to do was act as if they were above everyone else but with enough honour to be admired by the very same people they trampled on.
Sooner or later, it would seem that having two faces was better than one.
Her services ---
Aside from the usual frivolities that entailed being a socialite, pleasing others (behind close doors or otherwise) and cajoling desperate egos, or establishing connections with those who seemed important, Prue took care to separate her two lives though she is quite highly regarded in both.
She prefers to be addressed as ‘Belladonna’ in her line of work. She thought it was a very clever moniker. She’s very skilled with her chosen trade, particularly with concocting brews on ailments that weren’t immediately cured by charms or common potions. If something ailed you, she would most likely have something for it – so far, there’s nothing she cannot yet cure. She guarantees that her potions worked, but they come at a price and might even kill you.
Her ability to play with a person’s fate was something that gave her great pleasure and satisfaction.
Purposefully or not, she often leaves out crucial information on her brews, and a lot of times, while they are efficient at their job, they usually come with side effects. These could range from anything minor, like a temporary spotted nose to something permanent and almost life-threatening, like bleeding excessively, requiring you to seek her help, again, to counter said ailment. She is particularly infamous among ladies who do not wish to be impregnated or those who have been but wish to rid themselves of an unwanted pregnancy.
Her work is of utmost importance to her, to the point that she has even taken up learning muggle medicines and healing methods to understand human anatomy better. To keep her credibility and effectiveness, she often takes on clients under extreme secrecy and oath. She’s constantly looking out for rivals who may prove better healers than she is – this is probably why she doesn’t associate herself with St. Mungo’s. She would most likely wind up doing more harm than good.
With much discretion, she regularly deals with shady characters to acquire rare ingredients – negotiations are carried out swiftly, no questions asked. Her reputation is spread through word-of-mouth and Belladonna may only be contacted through owls.
Her clients have never seen her face, only that her back seems hunched and that she sounds like an old hag and most believe that she is one. To approach Belladonna for her services is much like dealing with the devil, displease her and you’ll wish you hadn’t.
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.
Christmas was approaching, it seemed, and that was when her business usually lost its momentum. People were too happy, too busy merrymaking to think of killing anyone off their blacklist. They forgot about her potions, and they forgot about her.
(How dare they?)
One would call her a miser for being this bitter and selfish about Christmas; oh, but she was more than that. She adored having the power to bring pleasure or pain to another, sadism was a term that attempted to box her in. Prue’s lips twitched in amusement.
Garbed in the latest fashions, the young woman walked down the streets of Diagon Alley hoping to stop by her favourite apothecary. The herbs and ingredients were fresh but the man who sold them disgusted her. For the sake of a good bargain, she had to pretend she didn't care.
Prue hadn’t even seen him coming.
Next thing she knew, Prue was sprawled on the ground, covered in tinsel and had broken a heel. Pity, she loved those blood-red shoes and it was the only pair she had in that shade. Damn it.
It took her a moment to get up, looking like a puppy kicked to the curb as she wrested with the tinsel, she wondered if she had scrapes. The thought made her want to break the culprit’s bones for bumping into her. Was he blind? Did he not see her walking in front of him? Hell, she was brightly dressed enough for someone who hated Christmas.
“It’s alright, mister.” She answered sweetly, clutching her broken heel to her chest as she bent over in an attempt to retrieve the man’s belongings.
“I certainly wasn’t looking where I was going.” She looked sheepish, as crimson tainted her cheeks. She clutched at the tinsel and almost ripped it off her person.
“Here, let me help.”
How did you find us?
Last Edit: 31/01/2015 at 14:24 by Prudence Engel
(31/01/2015 at 14:24)
(31/01/2015 at 18:59)
Undesirable No. 2, Resistance Leader, Hit Wizard, Colonel of 42nd, Former General's Aide
VIVAT REX IN HOMINE
WATCH THE THRONE, DON'T STEP ON THE ROBE
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