Eileen Mae O'Campo Magpantay | 3nd | Tenusa

Born an illegitimate child to a prominent pureblood family and a muggleborn, Eileen doesn't remember much about their birth parents. To this day, the child has never met their birth father, really only holding memories of the woman who raised them: their mother. Finding solace in a woman who raised them until her death, Eileen has nothing but fond memories of their late mother. Eileen's mother came from an extremely traditionalist pureblood family, seeing matrimony between a pureblood and a muggle as taboo; imagine their surprise to find their daughter pregnant with the child of a muggleborn. Following the birth of Eileen and the disownment from her pureblood family, Eileen's mother found shelter on a rice farm in the deep provinces of the Philippines. The old woman who owned the plot of land was a god-fearing, kind woman, allowing the pair to live on her land without any sort of charge; from then on, the pair lived in a small shack that sat towards the end of the property, far away from the kind muggles they inhabited the land with.

The pair lived a quiet life for the first five years of Eileen's life, rarely ever leaving their home lest they need necessities. They rarely ever spoke with the muggles, and the muggles rarely spoke with them. Unfortunately for the pair, the house was not well built, and it was only a matter of time before disaster struck. A housefire rendered Eileen homeless and motherless. Soon after, authorities gathered Eileen and attempted to find any remaining lineage that would take the child in. The child jumped from foster family to foster family within those 12 months, only thinking about one thing: they wanted their mother back.

It was difficult to track down the last remaining family of the small child, but they were able to do it after 12 long months:

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this thing?"

Arjay Gabriel O'Campo Magpantay. The remaining relative of Eileen on their father's side—uncle by blood, father by technicality. Barely thirty with a child left on his doorstep. Suddenly, the flat fields of the Philippines countryside transitioned to tall, metal mountains and street vendors coaxing you in with sweet treats; and Eileen was shoved into a small apartment in the heart of Manila occupied by three other people. Arjay had introduced the other two people, Miko and Jacob, living in the apartment as his roommates, his forever partners, whatever that means. Eileen never truly understand the trio's dynamic, and they never really cared to. All they knew now was that, apparently, they had three fathers.

Come On, Eileen!

Thing One and Two had left for the day, mumbling excuses about having to leave for "wurk." Another weird muggle ritual. Unfortunately, that left Eileen with the Thing Three; allegedly this was the one Eileen was related to. They saw zero resemblance. They did their best to hide from the creature, but no matter what crevice they squeezed into, he was there. Finally, Eileen shoved themself into one of the vacant rooms... a bedroom?

Their eyes widened as they scanned the room: it was like they had been transported to an alternate dimension. Strange black circles lined the wall on the far side of the room, and the walls that weren't lined with the circles were decorated with what Eileen could only describe as colorful squares. But, towards the back of the room, sat a small muggle device on the table near the bed. A... record player? Eileen remembers one of the muggles going on an in-depth explanation on the device, how its qualities could rival that of wizard invention.

"Hey, kid" a voice softly hissed out, startling the small child, "Wanna finally listen to some real music?" He chuckled at the look of inquisition, "Not that shit you hear when Mama- er, Lola, plays when she takes you to Church. Real music."

Eileen still didn't say anything, not particularly inclined to speak at the moment. They frowned, as Thing Three shuffled around, before pulling out a dusty record. They watched as he placed the record in, Eileen watching as it begun to spin... and music began to fill their ears! The opening notes of Dexys Midnight Runners began to play and, unknowingly, a wide grin spread across his face.

The pair danced for who-knows how long—realizing for the first time that maybe this won't be so bad; that this new dynamic won't be as miserable as they initially believed it to be. Eileen let out a small giggle, which soon transformed into a cacophony of laugh as Arjay began to spin them around the room. The pillows on his bed exploded as Eileen's laughs grew louder, surprising the two.

"Guess you are a wizard, kid."

Picking at their nails, running their fingers through a very specific strand of hair, wiggling their toes—all of which served as a reminder that the child still possessed some sort of humanity to them. But, they didn't feel human. They never had. Normal humans didn't think the way they did—and their bodies didn't morph the ways they did. Their eyes didn't randomly turn an inhuman red, nor did their hair naturally transform into a weird piss yellow.

"I don't know how you got the trait," their mother scoffed dismissively one day, the sound of a clinical glove slapping against skin resounding throughout the room, "you, out of all things."

Eileen didn't know much about their extended family, their mother rarely sharing information about her life outside of the small child; and what she **did** choose to share was usually spoken through gritted teeth and clenched fists—as if it physically pained her to talk about her family, their family. Even then, there was only one fact Eileen could recall from memory: there was a strange trait that ran prominent through their family—one that kept their hair piss yellow and altered their eyes strange colors.

And though six feet under, their mother continued to surpass the thin barrier between the living and the dead; during the day, they'd still see her figure lingering in dark corners, hear her in faint whispers over their shoulder, feel her presence engulfing them in her warm, warm embrace.

For some unexplainable reason, Eileen noticed that having dead parents was a common trope throughout media—whether it be the heroes in the comics they read or the strange muggle pictures that would appear on the "television." The creators of these characters loved to kill off their parents. Why? Why did Uncle Ben have to die? Or Bruce Wayne's parents? What creator would want to put their creation through such a thing? What about the horrors of Eileen's reality were so intriguing to them; did they find it amusing to put their characters through such torture for the sake of development? Eileen will never understand.

But, oddly enough, their own mother's ghost profusely refused to haunt theirs. To allow Eileen the comfort of seeing their mother, even if it be through their dreams. At least Bruce Wayne was afforded the luxury of seeing Thomas and Martha Wayne through his subconscious.

She just... never appears. Even when smoke has filled their lungs to a point of strangulation and fire continued to nip at their skin, she was never there to save them. Maybe they'd see a shadowy figure in the corner of the room, but despite their desperate cries for help, it never revealed itself to be the person they needed the most. And when they would wake from their nightmares, the only remnants of their mother that would remain are the straw-colored hair that sat atop their head—the same straw color she loved to magically dye her own hair.

It must be punishment. A punishment for their otherworldly condition.