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Author Topic: Bel Fioralba  (Read 181 times)

Bel Fioralba

    (08/10/2017 at 22:46)

E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

Character Name: Bellona Marise Fioralba
Gender: Female
Age: 19
Blood Status: Halfblood


Somewhere in the English countryside

Phony Fortune-Teller

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

  • Charms: 9
  • Divination: 6
  • Transfiguration: 10
  • Summoning: 7
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: N/A

Biography: (300 words minimum.)

There were many rumors about the peculiar psychic who lived around the bend. The local kids made note of every single one, if only to piece them together and create an amalgamation that would hopefully bear resemblance to the truth.


It was said that her usual form was that of a freckled ingénue with pink roses for cheeks and pale sea glass for eyes. It was also said this form was stolen from Mr. Tom Copper’s wide-eyed granddaughter who had gone to the psychic’s abandoned house for her fortune to be told so many years ago. It’s why the old man was so distrustful of any semblance of the supernatural that might have existed around their piece of the countryside.

And yes, she lived in the old rundown holiday house built by those odd but rich Australians who came for only twenty-eight days and left without saying a word. It had been a few years by the time the psychic made her presence known, and they say that it was a good thing that the place was put to some sort of use. The stained porch was just starting to peel away.

They say that the house changes its form every so often too. Witnesses claim that the inside was bigger than the outside looked. They also claim that the psychic was a horrible interior designer.


The psychic had a baby with a sleepy stare but no similarities to its supposed mother. Whether or not it was an actual baby was up for debate. Popular hypothesis were either that it was her shapeshifted familiar only manifesting the shape of an infant or an animated doll used as a connection between reality and the other side. It often locked its gaze on venturing children and superstitious clients, irking the minds of both. Yet the psychic did not care, but rather cooed at the little morsel and placed it square on her lap as she continued on with her readings.

Mothers loved their children with all their heart, but the psychic kept a spare for this one. Its curtains were open, and its front door was unlocked. The baby only had to live another millisecond for a second, third, fourth share of affection.

Suspicious behavior, the local kids decided. Very suspicious indeed. No one has yet to catch the baby in its true form, but the children still wait with anticipation.


The psychic had a young apprentice by the name of Daphne.
         Wasn’t it Delphine?

               Or Daisy?

                  Or Darla?

No, there’s a one billion percent certainty the apprentice’s name was Daphne.

The town only knew of the girl because it was Daphne who went to get the groceries and tried to purchase them with foreign coins and coupons for free readings before giving in and using regular people money. It was Daphne who convinced some of the old women to get their palms read (three shillings!) It was Daphne who dared the teenaged girls to have their aura analyzed (five shillings!) She was the messenger, the envoy, but she was just as elusive as the psychic and the psychic’s child.

The children played with her when she happened to hang around since she nearly the same age of all the kids who lived around the area. Still, despite all attempts to ease out any information about herself, no one knew much about Daphne except for the fact that she was plucked off the city streets and smartly decided to live with the psychic ever since then.

Not very interesting, the local kids agreed. Luckily, Daphne didn’t seem to mind the lack of attention.


     1. The psychic was from Scotland.
          a. It was confirmed by Daphne that the psychic had family in Tuscany. They don’t keep in touch.

     2. The psychic was a complete phony and was just fooling everyone in town. We should burn her.
          a. It was confirmed by Daphne that there was some basis to the psychic’s eccentric habits. However, her abilities of a psychic were not exactly on par with other psychics in the British Isles. Do come to have your tea leaves read for only four shillings anyway, for its better to have something than nothing. Limited time only before the price inflates!

     3. The psychic stole her baby from an affluent family whilst posing as their faithful governess.
          a. It was confirmed by Daphne that the psychic would never do such a thing, and that the baby was a mere happy surprise. It only just happened to inherit more of its father’s genes.

     4. The psychic was a witch.
          a. Who put this here?


Option One -
Amelia Nixon was many things, but she was never a pushover reporter that people could just usher away with a busy shuffle past. She was dedicated and eager to cut to the very middle of the current political tensions because she was Amelia Nixon and her articles would most certainly become front page material.

“Sir, please! It’s for the Prophet, how do you feel-“

Another one brushed passed her, the shuffling busy masses making their way through Diagon Alley for the lunchtime rush. This had been the best possible time to get people, but none of them were giving her anything to go with.

Only momentarily discouraged, the short red headed lady took a seat on a nearby bench. Her quill resting in her left hand and her notepad ready in the opposite hand. Amelia pouted, tapping the quill against her leg as she scanned the waves of people for somebody - anybody - who looked like they had something to say.

She had been dreaming of her name in bold print, Amelia Nixon: The Source of Today’s Tomorrow. She had been dreaming of the larger office and the secretaries that would fetch her the morning coffee and fetch her anything she needed. The VIP interviews and the most exclusive press passes. But all Amelia had was a page seventeen piece on the rising number of frogs in London.

Hardened by a day of no success, the reporter stood up and started to trod off down the alley. A loose stone on the cobble path caught her heel, sending the distraught girl toppling down to the ground.

“Merlin’s fog watch, my heel is broken! Help!” she yelled as she tried desperately to recover her shoe frantically in the middle of the Diagon Alley moving crowds.

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:

Reply to Option One -

Baby Marmara had gotten to her tarot cards, the little rascal. Though she was able to save most of the major and minor arcana with a simple Reparo, the Lovers, King of Cups, and nearly all of the Ace of Pentacles were either ripped to shreds and scattered all over the place or digested by both Marmara and the cat. Bel was forced to take a quick trip to Diagon Alley and splurge a bit on a new deck. Or alternatively, the gilt-edged deck that caught her eye while she was window shopping a week ago.

It was expensive, but Bel had a savings jar she was ready to smash open, whatever the cause.

“Argh, but I promised Daphne that I’d save for a new dress,” she muttered to herself. As she rounded the corner and entered a specialized shop for divination--the very same where her dream deck resided--Bel purposefully ignored the window and went straight for the display that held more of the cheaper items. It wasn’t like she was good at tarot cards anyway, and spending so much on something just to admire would make Bel feel guilty. She ran a finger over each product, tsking at each one that wasn’t what she needed or with a boring design until… aha!

A smile bloomed upon her lips. Her hand reached for the The Argus-Eyed Tarot, and she squealed as the numerous drawn eyes that decorated the box all blinked simultaneously at the shop’s most recent consumer. The deck was bright and technicolored, but it was undoubtedly kitschy in terms of design. It wasn’t the worst of the worse when compared against the rest of Bel’s possessions at least.

She bought the deck and bounced happily out of the store with still a few coins in her pouch. Lucky day, lucky day.

“Merlin’s fog watch, my heel is broken! Help!”

Bel nearly didn’t hear the cry for help until it was accompanied by a few gasps from other passersby. The young woman huffed and pushed through the crowd just to see what all the commotion was. “Oh, boo.” Good thing she left Daphne to look over Marmara for the few minutes she’d be gone. Her baby was so sensitive to these types of things!

It was another lady much like herself, all sprawled on the ground for no apparent reason. Bel stood on her tiptoes and darted her eyes around the scene to get a good picture of the scenario. Then, her gaze fell on a lone shoe quite a ways away from the red-headed woman. By her one uncovered foot, it was easy to see that the heel was hers.

Bel walked over to it and gently picked it up. She tilted her head left and right. Then, discreetly, Bel began to make the move of opening her coat and stuffing the shoe in one of her inside pockets. Maybe she’d be able to transfigure it into her own size and use the doubling charm to create the other half of the pair. It wouldn’t be permanent, no, but having a such a nice pair of heels would make her feel pretty.

How did you find us? Google

* Anneka Ivanova

    (10/10/2017 at 02:05)
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I sent you a PM with a question. Once I get your answer, we'll take another look at your application.
and if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free
to those who ground me, take a message back from me
tell them how I am defying gravity

* Anneka Ivanova

    (11/10/2017 at 12:29)
  • ***
  • Hogwarts Headmistress
  • [Winner!] HSNet 30-Day Challenge
    • View Profile
and if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free
to those who ground me, take a message back from me
tell them how I am defying gravity