Did you know?

The Language of the Flowers was a popular method to express feelings where words might be improper, but did you know other means of doing so? Some ladies used their parasols, as well as their fans, gloves, and hankies to flirt with a gentleman (or alternatively, tell them to shove it!). — Bree

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Iola Hitchens for Elladora Black. The Blacks' black sheep.
This boy, then. He wasn't new. Wasn't one of the worst people in the common room, those rotten rich boys - like Mr. Jailkeeper - who could not fathom a world beyond their own farts. Was a good working class lad, so he'd heard. Had a bit of a weird looking face, and a bit of a weird thing for preaching. Still.

Aubrey Davis in The Under-Sofa

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26 year old Halfblood
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played by MJ
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Porphyria Dempsey

Full Name: Porphyria Browning Dempsey

Nickname(s): Phyri [pronounced like Firi]

Birthdate: 26th February 1862

Age: 26

Occupation: Poet

Blood Status: Halfblood

Residence: Near Galway, Ireland

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Wand: Ebony, 13”, phoenix feather, swishy

Family: Eamon Dempsey | Father | 1824
Lowri Dempsey nee ? | Mother | 1836
Ozymandias Shelley Dempsey | Brother | 1856
Endymion Keats Dempsey | Brother | 1859
Don Juan Byron Dempsey | Brother | 1863
Christabel Coleridge Dempsey | Sister | 1865
Shalott Tennyson Dempsey | Sister | 1867
Lycoris Wordsworth Dempsey | Sister | 1869

Pluto | Her pet raven.
With a thick mane of dark hair and strong eyebrows, Porphyria doesn’t overly resemble the blonde maiden of Browning’s poem. Which is fine by her, all things considered. Otherwise, she does not consider her features especially remarkable, though does enjoy offering a shark-like smile once in a while. She has hazel-brown eyes, and is right-handed. She’s a little taller than average, at 5’3”, and might have a nice enough figure if her corsets were a little more punishing. The long walks she makes a habit of taking have seen her fairly physically fit, and a history of climbing down the ivy outside her bedroom window in the years before she could apparate sees her surprisingly agile still. She is fond of dresses and robes in startling shades, and quite likes black, too.
ENFP | Restless. Single-minded. Generous. Curious. Goes through phases of quiet and melancholy and general subduedness, and then extreme extroversion, all vivaciousness and loud exclamations and wildness. Likes nature. Provocative. Perfectionist. Bookworm, widely read. Through her father, has fully embraced Romanticism. Imaginative. Irrational. Gleefully gloomy. Has a fascination with all things macabre: tragedy, horror, the grotesque, anything related to death and decay. Can be brusque.
—Her patronus is a "hooded" or grey crow.

1862 | Porphyria is born, the third child - and first daughter - to Eamon and Lowri, upper class Irish sort-of eccentric poets. She is named after Robert Browning’s Porphyria’s Lover (published in 1836, originally as Porphyria), because naming one’s child after a psychopath’s murder victim is always a course of wise parenting. (She’s grown to rather like it, though. Besides, if one is to talk of Browning poems, she could have been Pauline, and what a soul-crushingly pitiful name that is!)

1863 | A year and a bit later, Don Juan is born. (Oh no. A future terror in the making.) As a one-year-old, she does not pay him much mind.

1865 | Christabel is born, a sister!

1867 | Shalott is born, another sister! Porphyria is now old enough to be of the ravenous reading age, and having managed to comprehend her name poem as more than a soothing bedtime story, she performs her first act of magic. (Which is to magically shear off most of her hair one morning, before she knows what she is doing, but clearly lest she give anyone the satisfaction of being strangled to death by it.)

Ozymandias also goes to Hogwarts this year.

1869 | Another sister, Lycoris!

1870 | Endymion goes to Hogwarts.

1873 | Time to go to Hogwarts, herself. Porphyria, very much a product of her parents with an inquiring mind and a penchant for individuality, is sorted into Ravenclaw. Despite her oddities, she finds some friends to whom, with the advantages of time, she becomes quite devoted.

1874 | Ozymandias graduates and Don Juan begins Hogwarts.

1875 | In third year, she adds Ancient Studies, Ghoul Studies and Care of Magical Creatures to her classload.

1876 | Christabel joins them at Hogwarts.

1877 | Endymion graduates.

1878 | Porphyria completes fifth year with a mixed bag of results; she continues with Ancient Studies, COMC, Herbology, Potions and Transfiguration for NEWTs. Shalott joins the Hogwarts crew.

1880 | She graduates with fairly impressive NEWTs, though without much intention to put them to any practical use. That does not mean, however, that Porphyria is amenable to the thought of marriage. Ew @ those dull Jane Austen ideals. Still, everyone seems to think it is a good idea to see her have a season. Which may have boded better had Porphyria actually turned up to her own Coming Out ball. (She gets dragged in from outside eventually, but all she can do is shrug and suppose at least it gave her an aura of mystery.)

The rest of the, er, season, sees a similar level of success. She likes costume events well enough to show up, doesn’t mind paying social calls to friends sometimes, and begrudgingly uses the more boring occasions (and gentlemen) as prime time to daydream and fish for poetic inspiration.

1881 | With nothing but continual - unsuccessful! - prodding to marry upon the horizon in season after season, Porphyria throws herself into proclaiming her will to be a spinster and writing poetry. The occupation of poet, after all, is a family affair, and certainly not one they can complain about! Although she is a raging perfectionist, on the whole Phyri has to conclude she’s quite good, and embarks on this career by getting a selection of poems published.

Don Juan graduates. The ‘Endymion, The Veela and The Hammock’ incident occurs. (Porphyria is both disappointed and Very Relieved not to have witnessed this.)

1882 | She publishes her first complete collection of poems.

1883 | Christabel graduates. After the unfortunate loss of her school-era pet owl (barn owl - Wolly; short for Wollstonecraft; after Mary - whose death, though she was fond of the creature, is greeted by more contemplation than mournfulness) Porphyria kidnaps discovers a baby raven and wheedles her parents into letting her keep it. The argument ‘but Charles Dickens had one’ works fairly well, and, well, everyone in the household knows about Byron’s pets. So. Any one of them could be much worse. (She names the raven Pluto.)

1884 | The season over in Hogsmeade is punctuated by plague and fire. Now that, in Porphyria’s opinion, is a much better representation of her feelings on the ‘season’. To cheer everyone up, her second anthology of poems is released, rife with gruesome dramatic monologues, satires, a few odes to death and a long, morbid ballad tale about a poor orphan, who, after a life of isolation and rejection, attempts to reanimate the corpses of their lost family: these quasi-inferi remember little of their former lives, and soon overthrow their creator’s will to kill the orphan, whose body is left alone once more to rot.

1885 | Shalott graduates - and is off to finishing school. Phyri does not envy her in the slightest, and makes a mental note to send her letters and packages and pray for her soul.

1887 | Her friends, unfortunately, are falling one by one - like dominoes - to marriage, a sort of epidemic to which she is perfectly immune. Porphyria, inching ever closer to official spinsterhood, is still hanging around writing poetry, and likes to think she has branded lost cause across her forehead rather competently by now. She perhaps wouldn’t say no to a tragic affair with a tortured spirit or a secret courtship with an unsuitable man six years her junior a la the Emily and Robert Browning, nor would she mind ending up living in Italy. But marriage, bah! She’d rather a lover strangle her than settle for that.

❧ That Porphyria and her parents are very eccentric Irish poets. You might have read her poetry, if you're into that sort of thing. It's all very dark and morbid and Gothic/Romantic.

❧ That she can be very contrary, outspoken and even rude at and about society and upper class events. She does what she wants and doesn't give a fig about being ladylike. One may judge her accordingly.
Played By: MJ

Contact: PM Elias Grimstone

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Registration Date: March 3, 2018

Date of Birth: February 26

Local Time: January 22, 2019 at 4:10 AM


Joined: March 3, 2018

Last online: January 20, 2019 – 6:13 PM


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<head><link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Meddon' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'></head>
<div style="font-family: 'Meddon', cursive;font-size: 20px; color: black;padding-top: 10px; text-align:right;">18th March, 1888</div>

<div style="font-family: 'Meddon', cursive;font-size: 24px; color: black;padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 10px; text-align:left;">Dear Ophelia,</div>

Now, now, now, you must know Irish traditions are not the sort of thing to be trifled with. We Irish folk take our superstitions seriously.

No, but that was a dreadful cruel trick to play on you! And I should like to find that woman and give her a piece of my mind for it. As for this Mr. Bixby - I hold out hope that by the time you receive this letter in return you will have been freed of that Utter Hell, but if not - I am more than willing to come by and chop off his hand if it helps. I needn't use magic, if magic has failed you thus far.

I am sure that would be enough to stem the rumours. Not that you should pay any mind to the rumours at all! It sounds like pure nonsense, and far too outlandish for people in society to believe it! (...Although I suppose society sorts are not the pinnacle of our race, and so perhaps may lack the brains to dismiss it.) But you are quite right about Mr. Devine, of that I am sure! His family and friends must have the common sense between them not to trust such trash, and he is not like to believe whispers of scandal from anyone else. The best person to address these sorts of rumours must be you, yourself... but if you can avoid doing so at all, so much the better. Besides, I am induced to think this will blow over, for isn't Witch Weekly bursting with new scandal every week?

You must be calm about this, O. Remember how sickeningly happy you have been and how awfully endeared Mr. Devine is to you - the worst outcome of this should merely be that the wedding must be postponed, and certainly nothing more severe. I am almost convinced the man would marry you even with Mr. Bixby attached to you, so you mustn't fret. (I rather hope you weren't hoping to weave handfasting into your ceremony, because, well...)

I reiterate again that I half-expect the ordeal to be quite over by the time you receive this, but if it is not, you must let me know if there is anything that I can do for you, for I shall do it at once! I can visit you at home, if you like - forgive me for not offering to hold your hand through it, for I fear that is in bad taste. I wasn't joking about hacking off his, though.

Be assured that I am
<div style="font-family: 'Meddon', cursive;font-size: 24px; color: black; text-align:center;">thinking of you,