Florence Prothero- The Princess of Parties [Society and Gossip Columinst]

[Florence Prothero]

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Florence Prothero
Gender: Female
Age: 18

Education: 
Hogwarts years 1-7, Graduated in 1938

Residence:
Off the coast of Wales in a castle with the rest of her family.

Applying to be:
Columnist

Department of choice: (select one)
Gossip

Why did you request that particular department?
The subject matter is relevant to the character and position in society.

Requested Magic Levels: (see here on how to do this)

• Charms: 8
• Transfiguration: 10
• Divination: 6
• Summoning: 8

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Usually I just put down Florence and call it a day… Uh, Josephine LaFleur, Peter Lahm, Claudia Prothero, PW Finch.

Biography:

Good health was important and especially for the Prothero women. It wasn’t that the men were more or less fit than the women, but fewer demands were expected of their bodies.

Florence had passed the physical with Octavian and was having her mental health exam with an extended family member.

“Tell me about life at home,” the man said. Florence sat up, prettily, on the couch. She felt more comfortable sitting down than laying down even if this man was family in some way.

“I can tell you about my life at home. Or would you rather have me tell you the root of any… problems that I might have?” Florence asked. She neither frowned nor smiled. A straight face was required for facts.

“If you’d rather start there,” they man replied.

“I’m a fraud. I’m an exact replica, but not the genuine article,” Florence explained. The words didn’t upset her, in fact some slight relief showed in her eyes.

“I gave up a perfectly happy and full life for the prospect of becoming something better,” she had repeated the words to herself so many times it was strange hearing them escape her lips. She never dared to write everything down and keep it hidden in a journal. Anything personal she wrote she immediately destroyed.

“I was engaged and lost my fiancé before I was even 17. I didn’t love him but I was sure I would,” Florence felt Perseus must have known that. It had been hard for her but she truly had wanted to make the best of her circumstances.

“I’m in love with my cousin. He knows what I’m not but ignores it. I know if he had his way the lie that’s become my life would be true,” Florence’s eyes left the man and she stared out into some point in space. There was more to that relationship but surely she had given the man enough to ponder already.

“Oh, and my biological father has been absent for most of my life, but he keeps in touch. I think at this age it’s important for parents and their children to have some distance between them,” Florence looked back at him and gave a smile.

She had expected him to be more thrown off. He did take a moment to speak, but his expression hid any puzzlement he might have well. So he was a Prothero after all.

“How do you feel about being a fraud?”

That was always the bottom line. How did she feel about being a fraud? She hated it before. But she’d been criticized and insulted enough to grow a thicker skin.

“Everyone’s a liar,” she told him. His eyes met hers and he studied her carefully. She remained calm and kept her guard down. There was nothing he could say without going against his moral code and the reason she was seeing this man was because he was family. And family meant something.

“Well, I think you’re perfectly healthy,” he told her as he reclined.

“A word of advice,” he wasn’t quite done with her.

“You might think your lie only effects you. You might dream of exposing the truth to feel a moment of vindication. But the truth has repercussions that reach further than just yourself. You are your lie and never forget that.”


Roleplay:
Reply as your character to the following:
Jim hated Mondays.

He had always hated Mondays, really; that cursed beginning of the week, that day where it still should have been the weekend and yet there was work to be done - deadlines to be made - stupid lunch meetings to attend.  Even when ‘lunch meetings’ had been just plain lunch; ‘work’, homework, he had despised the start of classes and - all at once - the next five un-fun days before the weekend started up again.

Now, cloudy October morning, Jim hated Mondays more than ever.

His desk filled with the wide-open arms of the Sunday Prophet, he scribbled furiously over sections with a bright red ink.

All the new graduates with their impeccable NEWTs and superb teacher recommendations had come in last month, only too eager to start preaching the truth - their truth - to the whole of Wizarding Britain.

Jim’s train of thought was bitter, but he smiled wanly, for he had once been one of those recruits themselves.

Most of their dreams should have been been smashed in the first week, from the first time people like Jim had told them to fetch the group some coffee. Day after day, hour after hour, that was what they now said to their youngest colleagues, as their older counterparts had told him years before: At some point everyone has to fetch us our drinks.

Almost every year, the new recruits sat down and took it - and fetched the group some coffee - and maybe it was just the age or the nostalgia, but Jim was fairly certain that they deserved it all.

They did not deserve to publish half-coherent drafts with way too many adverbs and completely unmodulated opinions.

Jim threw down the quill in disgust, ink splattering onto his button-down shirt as though it were blood.

Smartly, he piled up bits of paper, and then, still angry, face marred by an unhappy Monday, deposited the pile in front of his door before reaching out to grab at the first person he saw.

“What happened to this paper?”

Roleplay Response:

The weekend had been dull. No parties meant no news, at least in her department. Florence was on the verge of having the house elf spy on the notorious Plum Family to get some sort of story. Surely they did are least one scandalous thing a day. She considered it, but then wondered if it was illegal and more importantly if she’d get caught or in trouble for it or not.

Florence didn’t fetch anyone coffee. She had avoided it for a time and the one day she was asked to get coffee she told her superior that tea was healthier and a great deal more patriotic. And after she came back with tea instead, no one ever asked her to get coffee again. Florence Prothero was not a coffee girl.

Problem solved.

She would send memos, or walk something over for someone. Florence hated sitting all day and collecting wrinkles and creases in her clothes. She didn’t mind walking around, smiling at her co-workers, and making light conversation. If it developed a relationship and gained their favor than there was nothing wrong with it.

Usually these messages she delivered from person to person could have been sent by paper plane but had a few instructions to go along with it. Instructions a writer couldn’t manage to put down sensibly after a long night of work. Other times they were just blank pieces of paper. She hadn’t purposely discovered this. It had accidentally fallen out of the envelope. That was her story and she was sticking with it.

Now she wondered if they just liked making her walk around for them or if they liked watching her walk around.[/i]

She was in the middle of a walking over a memo when she was aburtly stopped.

“What happened to this paper?”

Florence’s muscles tensed the moment she realized someone had grabbed her. She really didn’t like just anyone reaching out and taking a hold of her. She looked at him with slight question and warning in her eyes, and then at the paper.

“Are you referring to the ink stain or the actual content? I can enlighten you more about the latter than the former, sir,” Florence told him.


OTHER
How did you find us?
FRENDS

[Alastair Grimm]

Accepted!