Anella Vaughn || 1st year hufflepuff
ency under construction but all the important stuff is here, trust 
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𝐒𝐎 , 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐀 𝑳𝑶𝑨𝑫 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 . . .
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||| |  𝐈 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐀𝐌
𓇢 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆. 𓆸
Reducio Anella Vaughn is an 11 year old British girl. She stands at 149cm (4'10ft) and weighs 35.7kg (about 78 lbs). She has dirty blonde hair which is also sunbleached, resulting in a really light blonde. her eyes are a saturated green, almond shaped. her lips are thin, teeth in need of braces, but acne hasn't attacked her yet. if she could have everything her way, she would never brush her hair or even better, cut it even shorter. She is a healthy weight and pretty athletic. Despite her other tomboyish characteristics, she likes playing dress up and takes rather good care of her clothing. |
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||| | 𝑾𝑶𝑳𝑭, 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃. Reducio
Anella’s FIOM happened at age six, and it was pretty tame. She was learning how to ride a bike with her father in front of her house, which was located in a very sleepy and family-friendly neighborhood. She just managed to take off without her father pushing her when a huge dog ran towards her, barking very loudly. Anella, scared and under adrenaline, accidentally froze the dog in place a couple feet away from her. Tongue out and everything. It was like she just pressed pause on him. With the help of her father, they undid the accidental spell and then went out for ice cream. |
|| | 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐀𝐌,
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑻 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.
Reducio The bedroom was dark, the lone nurse and the mother sitting together in crude silence. Once the birth happens, the timer starts. The nurse stands up, turns on the lamp, and nods as a way to excuse herself. The mother nods back. It wasn’t hard to get this woman to do her a favour – veela capabilities are handy when you’ve got to get away with something. Like giving birth to twins, for example. Only a hundred bucks a pretty tear later, she was set. The second she could stand, one of one child will be dropped off at the Demarest's household. It could very well be their kids - Renatus was a gentlemanly lover, their affair lasted a little bit longer than expected. But what scares her is that the children could be Vaughns’ as well, which gives them way more chances of being squibs. And Vaughn was just a boy, even lying about his age just to take her out on a walk. It was a fun adventure, the artist type, trying to gain a deeper connection with her. Which won’t do well if they’re dropped off to the Demarests households – she knew that much. The plastic birth dress felt tight around her stomach. Ludovuca sighed, and it did nothing to help her. Maybe… well, she knows it’s twins. She’s way too big for a singlet. Maybe she could just… give both Renatus and Ronan a kid each. The plan after is to disappear anyways – her family in inland Russia have been owling her to come back for a while now. They don’t know she’s pregnant either. This was a fight she fought alone, and to be helped was to lose. It all felt like hell on Earth, as muggles would say. Her back made her paralyzed, her mind was filled with the remains of her screams and struggles, the nurse was trying to juggle washing two screaming newborns at once in the tiny bathroom. It took hours for everyone to settle down, for Ludovica to be able to form a sentence. A small chat about the children, healthy, girl and a boy, both look so much like her. That was unhelpful. The nurse gave them nicknames – even though Ludovica insisted on not doing so. She wouldn’t give them names, or hold them. She couldn’t get attached. She slid a coin off the bedside table, deciding to figure out which father gets who. Heads – the boy goes to Renatus, Tails – the girl does. The coin is thrown, and all three bloodlines hold their breath. Heads. Very well then. (Long lost twins with @Sanguinius Demarest) Anella is the daughter of Ronan Vaughn, a half blood wizard who attended Hogwarts in his youth. An artist, sensitive and meek man whose genes practically copy-pasted onto his daughter. Anella’s mother, a muggle named Hazel, left them when the girl was an infant, suddenly realizing that this was her last chance to avoid the wizarding world and its intricacies. Ronan was, of course, heartbroken at the love of his life leaving, but pulled himself together very soon to make sure that Anella never noticed the absence of her runaway mother. Ronan studied at WAVAD and used his artistic knowledge to it’s absolute most to be able to support his child. He took on freelance work, ran multiple classes, sold all his best artwork that he initially wanted to save - and read as many parenting books in between as he could. Anella isn’t quite sure what’s going on with the rest of her family, Ronan never seemed to talk about their relatives, suddenly growing quiet when young Anne would ask. It was always just her and dad, and honestly? They didn’t need anyone else. They never tried to reach out, Anella barely knows her grandparents names. They must not care much. Anella has attended an ordinary public school in the middle of muggle London, managing to suppress her real nature with ridiculous amounts of Wolfsbane and prayers, managing to even integrate herself in a small gang of muggle girls her age. She’s aware that she’s different, longs for people like her - both in the witch and werewolf sense. The day she got invited to attend Hogwarts was the first time she didn’t feel alone in a… while. Ronan, Anella’s father, is an absolute hippie. Truly a man born in the wrong era – an eighties child who missed the “Flower Power” era by the skin of his teeth, and never got over it. Pair that with living in London, a fast paced, brick jungle, no matter how creative, and you’ve got a man desperately longing for connection with nature, with the elements. So every summer, during his only vacation of the year, he takes himself and Anella to this little countryside cottage that his friends rents him, although it is only an eight minute drive from the closest town. Every summer that Anella remembers from that little cabin has this golden filter over it and a background track of acoustic guitar, water splashing, and laughter. It was a safe haven for the small family, especially compared to the crime-riddled muggle London where Anella was usually growing up. But the forest surrounding it held its own set of mysteries, and therefore dangers. Anella’s curious nature has calmed down nowadays, but her six year old self couldn’t be contained. That year they went with another wizard, a close friend from Ronans Hogwarts days, Joe. The man was a healer (I know it’s on the nose but I’m gojng insane), like a doting uncle to Anella and generally good company to their little father/daughter duo. Anella spent that summer learning how to swim, forcing the men to play soccer with her and exploring the outskirts of the forest under the supervision of one of her caretakers. She was building a herbarium – a project given to her by her father so he could get a break from all her sports. It’s not a good idea to let a six year old child into the forest alone no matter how much you claim you won't take your eyes off of her. Because you will. Late sundowns and hearty dinners, the two men decided to cook dinner together for their last full day at the cabin. Anella was told to only explore as far as they could see her from the kitchen window, and to come back by nine thirty to eat. Every single night coming up to that day there were zero problems, so everyone was very relaxed. Anella, joyous from her newfound freedom, took it upon herself to explore as deep into the forest as she could. Now – she wasn’t a fool, for she took a piece of newspaper and kept a trail to trace back once she had to go home. Hours passed by, eventually Ronan and Joe's attention was stolen by the frying fish and a glass of wine each, and Anella had a blast in the forest alone. It was sundown, the full moon had already appeared in the pink, then medium blue, then a velvet, navy sky above her. She should be heading back, she thought, so she started yelling to attract her fathers attention, just in case. Let him know that she was coming home. She wasn’t that far out, right? She attracted the attention of something entirely else. Something far more sinister, far more cruel. The second she heard the laboured breathing, felt the unmistakable feel of eyes on her back, she started running. Her paper trail came handy, she managed to get only a couple feet from the edge of the forest before the… literal werewolf got her. Piercing her skinny pale shoulder, the sounds her mouth produced put every horror film actor ever to shame. Because nothing ever could replicate the undertone of the fear of death her voice rang with. Ronan ran, ran like a formula 1 car drove, Joe right behind him with an axe in his hand. Anella was bleeding out, trembling and using all her remaining life to cling onto her fathers shirt and sob, whispering little “I love you”s. This was the first time that Anella felt the soft caress of death pet her cheek, while her father held her like gravity held the earth together. And everything went black. And then she woke up. The linen canopy of the guest room was the first thing she saw, and for a second she wondered if this was the white and bright haven that muggle preachers talk about. And then she registered something in hand, a … Oh, another hand. She slowly lowered her gaze to find her father at the the site of the bed, holding her hand with a frown. He seemed deep in thought, dark circles and red eyes indicating he hadn’t slept at all. Why? Oh. Joe suddenly entered the room, almost dropping a basket he was holding when he saw that she was awake. The sudden action woke Ronan up from his musings as well, turning around to see what Joe was making such a commotion at. Following the man's gaze, there was Anella. Awake and, well, not well per say, but alive and awake. And that was enough for him to grip her hand like he did… that night. Like he might never let go again. And start sobbing. Joe slowly approached the young girl, petting her fathers bent head and then hers. He looked tired but… immensely happy. |
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||| | 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑,
Reducio Mayhaw as a subspecies of Hawthorn shares many of its characteristics. Mayhaw wands as well as their owners are full of conflict, be it due to being at odds with themselves naturally or due to past circumstances. As Hawthorn wands, wands of Mayhaw wood are excellent for both healing and harming, though they lack the more common varieties of Hawthorn's tendency to backfire when handled incorrectly. With a calm, placid core like Unicorn hair a Mayhaw wand is an excellent helpmate even to those new to magic, requiring none of the experience or steady demeanor needed for a Hawthorn wand. Wand Choice: Well-suited for both curses and healing magic, less prone to backfiring. Owners often have an internal conflict. Flavor: Depending on the wand used, these wands can have an analgesic effect if used with a 'healer's core' or a core that leans towards assisting, helping and 'good'. However if the core leans towards the dark arts or destructive power, most spells (even non-damaging ones) tend to be a source of discomfort be it the lights hurting someone's eyes, the bandages being too tight, etc. |
| |  𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
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| | 𝑵𝑬𝑽𝑹𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑫.
Reducio Unicorn Tail Hair is renown as a wand core that produces the most consistent magic and is the least subject to fluctuations and blockages when casting spells. Considered to be extremely loyal and moralistic. Wands from Unicorn Hair are the most faithful of wands and renown for being the most difficult to be turned to the Dark Arts. As a core Unicorn Hair, while it makes for steady, reliable wands, does not produce the most powerful magic unless the wood compensates for this weak point. They are prone to being melancholic if mishandled and wands produced from Unicorn Hair can even go so far as to stop working entirely if their owner dies, provided they have been paired with a wand wood of that inclination. It's one of the most common wand cores and used by Wandmaker Garrick Ollivander. Effect: • Casting spells with this wand reduces the critical failure range of the user by 2. • Dark spells have a 30% chance to rebound on the caster. |
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||| | 𓂃 ོ 𓂃 𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐑. 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒂 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒔, 𝒂 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒘 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔 ... 𝒐𝒓, 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕. |
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Last edited by Anella Vaughn on 29 Dec 2024, 17:03, edited 13 times in total.
"Ignore my claws, look into my eyes"
- Marika Hackman
Anella Vaughn || 1st year hufflepuff
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"Ignore my claws, look into my eyes"
- Marika Hackman
Anella Vaughn || 1st year hufflepuff
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placeholder
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"Ignore my claws, look into my eyes"
- Marika Hackman
Anella Vaughn || 1st year hufflepuff
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placeholder
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"Ignore my claws, look into my eyes"
- Marika Hackman