Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Gia Camila Fuentes Rodríguez
Gender: Female
Age: 19
Blood Status: Halfblood

Education: 
Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  -  Wampus

Residence:
London, England

Occupation
Unemployed, currently. The occasional singing gigs?

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?
Don't think so.

Requested Magic Levels:

• Charms: 10
• Divination: 5
• 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?
No.

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Maria Téodora Wittington, Monty King, etc.

Biography: (300 words minimum.)

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Gia had only been ten when she realized.

She’d been around at the corner shop, down an avenue in the No-Maj part of west Tampa, because they had the best sandwiches. The street still had cobblestones, and the air often smelled of coffee and cigar smoke. Gia had gone with a group of neighborhood kids from their area, some of which were her friends, some she just saw around.

But then the simple food run took a drastic turn.

A few of the boys had surrounded a street cat—its missing back leg had caught their attention—and began poking and taunting at it with sticks.

Before she knew what was happening, she’d grabbed one boy by the hair on the back of his neck and twisted his arm up behind him as she slammed his front into the blue stucco wall of the sandwich shop.

She was so angry.

When he’d started crying, she had finally taken in the open-mouthed stares she was receiving, and then she looked at the boy she had pinned to a building as if she’d just realized he was there.

Gia had hastily let go and backed away, her own heart hammering in her chest. But she hadn’t apologized. She hadn’t even responded to the threats of the others that they’d tell her parents.

Her parents. Her father.

She’d stared at her own hands like they’d betrayed her.

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Jaw set, Gia crushed the parchment in her fist.

She’d known something was wrong the second the mail arrived that morning. She rarely got mail, for one thing, and for another, the handwriting did not belong to her mom or father, but to her uncle. Gia hadn’t even started eating, and when she’d unfolded the letter, she had promptly folded it back up and walked out.

Two words stood out: Father. Jail.

Gia leaned back heavily against a wall, a hand clasped over her mouth, and closed her eyes hard. She should have known this was coming. Cuba was in the middle of a revolution, and it was one that Rogelio Fuentes was fully a part of. He breathed it.

Her hand scrubbed at her face as if she were groggy and couldn't shake it. Breathing in deeply through her nose, her hand pushed up into her hair, and the breath released in a ragged sigh. Dark eyes reappeared then and opened wide; maybe if she kept trying, she’d wake up.

Two older girls—Betty and maybe Patricia?—hassling the newest transfer student (she didn’t know her name) invaded her mental space then, and that’s when Gia knew she definitely was not dreaming. Her dreams were never this annoying.

The tight knot of anxiety, fear, worry for her mom (and her father, even if she wasn’t sure if he deserved it or not), and an odd sense of abandonment was pushed away.

“Back off.”

Gia was suddenly at the new girl’s side, and her presence made the other two hesitate. She was fifteen now, and somehow, she’d garnered a reputation — one that was not true, but she'd never corrected. The advantages of being seen as the ‘tough girl that shouldn’t be messed with’ had been too useful.

“Stay out of this, Fuentes.” Betty put up a good front, but her voice gave her away.

When Gia took a step forward, her body half shielding the transfer girl and raised her chin, the other two faltered. It was all she usually had to do; her reputation took care of the rest.

And it was that way now, as both of them gave some flimsy excuse, as if it were their idea to leave, before taking off. She’d turned then and offered the girl a smile, instantly warming her features, which had five seconds ago been much harder.

“You okay?”

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It was difficult to tell when her parents were fighting or just talking sometimes. They were both passionate and intense people, but her father was loud and his was inexhaustible, while her mother was quiet and hers was always just there, humming under the surface.

The results were explosive and frequent. While she didn’t doubt their love (she thought, at least), her father would get so carried away that it’d often carry him right out the door, leaving her mom alone in a silence so sudden it was jarring.

But when one of those times came again, in the summer before her last year at Ilvermorny, her father was arrested again. This time, when he’d left, he didn’t come back, and that next morning her mom wouldn’t get out of bed.

Gia had been angry. At her father. At the country. At people. But she’d learned, over the years, how to channel this fire she’d inherited. She learned that if she didn’t, she wouldn’t have control over what burned to ashes.

Singing had allowed her to loosen the restraints. Cooking, she’d found through her mom and abuela, could calm it, as she focused in on the smell of spices and the fluid marrying of flavors.

Gia spent that morning cooking breakfast for her mom while softly singing a Spanish lullaby she'd heard growing up.

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After graduation, Gia Fuentes had no idea what she wanted to do. Singing was like breathing to her, and cooking soothed her, but neither one was a practical career choice. But she just didn’t know what she wanted.

Home was so strongly her father and what he wanted; for his country, for his family, for himself. Her mother weaved through that, balancing and securing her family and home, and Gia had found those truly were her mother’s wants.

It was all too much and not enough. But it was only one small part of the world.

So she made a decision.

Backpacking through Europe had been unexpected, and though her family didn’t want her to leave home (and in her father’s eyes, nowhere would outshine Cuba), they supported her. Out of a deep understanding of feeding your passions, not starving them, from her father, and out of love, from both of them.

Two years of traveling later, she made another decision. One that was a spur of the moment, and usually she thought more before she acted, but Gia knew she wasn’t ready to go back home.

After arriving in England, a country she had skipped in her travels, and where she only knew a cousin, Gia chose to stay. At least for a while.

Gia Fuentes had always been very independent, and she wasn’t done figuring out — what else?

 

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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:

England was gray and cold, but she didn’t mind it. Though she was relieved that she’d left her guitar at—not home—her cousin’s home. Her feelings might’ve been different otherwise.

Her feelings definitely would’ve been different.

Someone literally crashed into her then, sending her sprawling with a yelp. She got a face full of snow, which admittedly, was much better than a face full of cobblestone. Groaning, Gia sat up, already on the defensive and ready for whoever ran her over— 

—There was something shiny in her face.

Gia blinked, faintly stunned, and just sat there, trying her damnedest to figure out how she’d suddenly become a Christmas tree. 

Someone was apologizing.

The brightly colored strands were on the arms of her coat too, red and gold, and all in her hair, she realized. Sighing, she also realized the old man that had run into her had done so accidentally. Gia deflated instantly, “No, it’s okay.”

Pushing herself to her feet, she studied the tinsel (figuring out what it was after a moment) that adorned her, well, everything. Her face couldn’t seem to decide if it wanted to smile at how ridiculous she looked or frown at how tedious getting rid of it was going to be.

Her face settled on confused.

 “Do you need—" Gia glanced at herself again, covered in what she could only assume was his decorating supply. “—all of this back?”


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