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Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1893. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.

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Queen Victoria was known for putting jackets and dresses on her pups, causing clothing for dogs to become so popular that fashion houses for just dog clothes started popping up all over Paris. — Fox
It would be easy to assume that Evangeline came to the Lady Morgana only to pick fights. That wasn't true at all. They also had very good biscuits.
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Rowan Yaxley
344 Posts
Played by Lady
26 year old Pureblood
5 ft. 2 in.
❤   Unattached
Full Name: Rowan Lorelai Yaxley

Nickname(s): Ro

Birthdate: 25 Jan 1867

Age: 26

Gender: Female

Occupation: Magical Accidents & Catastrophies Employee

Blood Status: Pureblood

Residence: Penny Ln & Cobbler's Corner, South Bartonburg

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff Alumna '85

Wand: Blackthorn, 12 ¼", Phoenix Feather, Rigid

Family: Mama; Metal — b. 1843
Papa; Wood — b. 1835
Grayson; Earth — b. 1869
Maisie; Fire — b. 1871
Once round and plump, since her father's betrayal, Rowan's features have sharpened, her stature becoming angled and defined. As she has aged, Ro has grown into a willowy figure with modest curves. Her eyes that kiss at the corners are dark as coal, and can be equally as cold or blazing if she's pressed. Her hair has always been taken care of by her mother, combed to shine like silk and styled in the latest styles as accurately as she could, which sometimes results in them feeling a little old fashioned.

Ro's fashion is anything but stylish. She often keeps it practical with a few pieces she has slowly been able to get magically altered over the years: a few skirts and shirts that remain appropriate for the time but don't limit her range of motion for work. Her wand arm is her right.

There are five of us. Mama said we made a perfect family. One person for each of the five elements: Wood, Metal, Water, Earth and Fire. This was all said when the sun shone through the windows with a radiant beam and even the simplest action like picking up a teacup seemed to send wind chimes ringing through the air.

I miss those days.

Papa was handsome, and too clever by half. Long and sturdy like the grandest of trees. When I looked up at him, I remember wondering how he didn't topple over all the way up there. And when I dared open my mouth to ask him, he would swoop me up in his arms and hold me so tight I could feel the vibration of his chest as he laughed. I knew if I curled up, I would disappear in his arms. The day I first exhibited any signs of magic, he carried me around on his broad shoulders as if I were only a bowtruckle.

I can't recognize this man now. None of us do. His features are withdrawn and sullen; his mistakes haunt him more than our quick glances to each other. He knows he's the reason behind what happened to Maisie, knows that Mama won't ever forgive him. Not truly forgive him anyways.

Mama is small. I'm taller, but twice as afraid if I ever see her dark eyes crackle with rage. I only saw it once when we'd realized what had happened to Maisie. Her fists flew that day, sharp and precise though Papa was the only one in the world that could handle them. It was her gaze that made him shrink - brought him to his knees to plead with her. I shut my eyes and clapped my hands over my ears that day.

It's too bad my mother didn't see it in Papa before she married him; but what choice does a bride have in an arranged marriage? Mama knew that. We may be pureblooded, but our family's wealth does not span as far as we may have led society to believe. It was with every fibre of love that my natal family sent the remainder of their wealth to my mother when Papa lost our money. Some may call my mother's family desperate. I choose to call it love, for that's all that I have ever known from them.

Mama still stands tall, insisting on doting on Grayson, Maisie and I. When chaos struck, it was Mama who rose in the midst of it all, steadfast with her presence. It was Mama who kept us on track and held our family together. If there were fine silk threads that connected all of us, I could see her, resolute with our strings in her hands, refusing to let us go. She would save the last bit of her food for us, encourage us to eat, to take care of each other, pick up after us and cradle us when we had fights or were scared. She and Papa sent me every gift they could without compromising our futures when I got into Hufflepuff. I remember the next day in the Great Hall peeling back the cover of a parcel to reveal Mama's congee; cooked with the best ingredients they could afford. A bowl filled with liquid gold, as far as I was knew, and regardless of the stares I received that day, I ate every last drop.

I went to sleep with a full stomach that night.

And there's me. "Too much water," Mama always says. Water always finds a way to slip through your fingers. Ever since I was able to do so, I ran; Uncle was never able to catch me whether I twirled away from his reach or ducked when I saw his hand coming. I always hid from Uncle. Mama never trusted him either. Her instincts are always spot on, and she was right about him, all the way down to the night he and Papa brought Maisie back.

I don't think I'll bore you with the details of my birth; it was when my parents were happy, almost blissfully so. And I was an amiable child; though even as a full fledged witch, I never heard the end it from our old nanny who rarely hesitated to tell the many tales of how often I escaped from my cloth nappies and paraded around the nursery, triumphant and sprightly as a filly. Of course she did it to embarrass me, but I find myself reflecting back on that with fondness. Even in her dotage, when she no longer worked for us and I begged her to visit, she would tell me that story as if it was the freshest memory in her mind. Perhaps because it made her laugh so much, and we desperately needed something to laugh about. I still miss her.

I don't think any of us took Maisie's accident harder than Grayson. He and Papa were thick as thieves, and he idolized him more than I've ever seen anyone admire someone. Where Papa walked, Grayson followed, placing his small feet heel first in Papa's footprints. I could see the wheels in my brother's mind calculating how long, how much work it would take for him to grow to be able to fill Papa's shoes.

The night they brought Maisie in, Grayson and I were playing. It was the night Grayson exhibited his first sign of magic. I remember I was using Papa's walking cane to pretend I was the evil wizard, come to challenge Grayson so he could rescue the princess (whom I was playing as well). Just as I had raised Papa's cane over my head, the floor beneath me collapsed and I descended into darkness. The next thing I knew, I was woken up by the screams of my family. At first I thought they were concerned for me; dreaded the punishment Grayson might have gotten for something that he wasn't able to control.

I quickly realized I wasn't the problem that night. Looking back I can't tell you how much I wish the sprained wrist and scar on my back was the worst thing about that night.

Maisie. Dear, sweet Maisie. Eyes as obsidian as the night but when the sun hit them, it was as if you had struck gold. You couldn't help but be entranced when she laughed. Her face lit up and the laugh bubbled in her chest, bursting forth with a force that only made you laugh even harder. Maisie was the one who wanted adventure from me. She liked the tales I spun, and it was hard to say no to her when her hand caught mine, refusing to let me go to bed until I'd told her a tale of monsters and warriors. She always wanted to be the warrior, so I naturally was to be the monster.

She always looked so mighty playing the warrior, her black hair wild and tangled as she leapt up onto the bed, brandishing the toy sword Papa had given her for Christmas. I knew that Maisie would want to become an Auror if she was given the opportunity. She always charged forward whenever she could, eyes blazing. I knew she was going to be taller than me.

That night, though.

I had never seen her looking so small. Papa's face contorted in anguish as he stumbled in with her in his arms, slick and smelling of rain and something else. When my uncle quickly followed and I saw the blood pouring from a wound in his head I realized the sharp scent that I smelled was blood. Mama smelled it too. For all the noise that Papa and Uncle were making, I knew even if they'd crept in the house without a sound that Mama would have been there in a heartbeat. Her hands were immediately outstretched, searching her youngest daughter to see what had harmed her.

When I saw her hand come away soaked with blood, I froze. Mama's voice rang throughout the house as Maisie was ushered into where I sat and laid on the couch. I could only scramble up to make way. She looked like death, a sickly blue tint at the corner of her mouth. I made myself as small as I could, inconspicuous as I clutched at Grayson, fearful of what would happen to our Maisie.

Grayson and I found out about Papa's gambling problem that night. Found out that our tuitions were gone. My future, Grayson's and Maisie's were as good as gone. Papa owed debts. Big ones, and the only way to send a message was to target his family. Us. Maisie and our governess had been cornered. They'd killed our governess in front of Maisie's eyes, forced her to drink a potion that weakened her and tricked her into taking an Unbreakable Vow. As soon as the words were out of Papa's mouth, I could see the rage descending on Mama. Her eyes darkened and her fists clenched. Maisie couldn't tell us what had made her sick.

And then the screaming began. Mama knew about the debts, she just didn't know how bad it had gotten. Said that I could be next, or even Grayson if he didn't get it together.


The look on my little brother's face as he realized what Papa had done. All of us could see the light fade in his eyes. Papa was his hero, the one he looked up to for strength and a reflection of who Grayson thought he was going to grow up to be. We knew that image of himself was shattering before our own eyes.

I could see the tapestry of our family being torn in two, snapping thread by thread. Mama's agony. Maisie's silent suffering. Papa's betrayal. Grayson's heartbreak. It was too much.

So I turned on my heels and ran. The calls of my family quickly faded behind me as I ran through the pelting rain.

I was lucky I wasn't the next one of our family to get snatched that night. And like I said, the money did come. It fixed some things. Got us back on our feet, but Mama never trusted Papa after that. I could see she still loved him though. The way her eyes lingered on him when he turned his back. There was hatred in that gaze, but there was also love and affection. But when he turned back to her, that expression faded and hardened. There was never a question as to if Papa ever loved Mama. I knew he would until the very end. Knew that it would break him if anything were to happen to her.

But it didn't change what he had done, and he knew that. We knew that.

Thanks to Mama's family, Hogwarts was possible for me and Grayson, but it was never a question for Maisie. I could see her strength fading when she and Mama waved goodbye to me whenever I left for Hogwarts. I knew that once my back was turned and I was finally gone that she would collapse in Mama's arms, devastated and heartbroken. But she never mentioned any of this to me. She didn't have to.

Every day I worked hard to be able to send some extra money back to my family, no matter how little. Tutoring students helped, but I knew it was never enough to recover what Papa had lost. I knew we were lucky that he hadn't sold our home. I still grapple with not knowing if he would have done so had desperation driven him there.

When Grayson joined me at Hogwarts, we hardly spoke during the train ride over. Just sat in the silence, staring at the empty seat in the cabin that should have been Maisie's. We made a pact, Grayson and I, that night. We would do our best to teach our sister everything we could. Lend her our books and teach her what little magic we could between us. It was the least we felt we could do.

Eventually I made good enough grades that I found a Ministry internship during the last few summers at Hogwarts, and then eventually a job. It pays decently, but I still give what I can. Know that it will never amount to the vast wealth that some of my classmates had openly bragged about in class. But it's enough to get us by.

Maisie still remains ill, but as time went on, we discovered there could be some cycles to her illness. There are times when she is able to move from downstairs to upstairs and vice versa. A few trips a day exhaust her and she's soon out like a lampshade. But whenever I'm home now, we go over lessons. This is where I'm thankful for tutoring my classmates. As insufferable as some of them could be, it gave me the patience I needed to teach my sister.

We all hope for answers one day. Papa remains the most tortured of us all. He still is fragile around Maisie, so gentle sometimes I believe he would shatter if I were to ever jump into his arms like I did all those years ago. I know Maisie wishes he would stop, as her suffering ebbs and flows. But we know that isn't possible; Papa has condemned himself to torture knowing what he brought down on our house.

And still, we move forward.

  • Languages: Rowan is fluent in Mandarin and English and proficient in French and Spanish
  • Feminine Skills: She is fairly good at drawing, needlework and cooking and knows basic first aid.
  • Combat Skills: Ro is fairly good at hand-to-hand combat but usually when it only involves one other person.
  • Magical Abilities: She can perform some minor wandless magic: moving small things within a certain radius of her (which she likes to prank her co-workers with sometimes) and lighting candles.

  • Boggart: The same men who came for Maisie coming for her with her family dead behind them.
  • Amortentia: Mama's cooking, fresh parchment, old leather, Clematis
  • likes Muggle Renaissance Artists, particularly Michelangelo, Raphael and Botticelli
  • terrible at Quidditch but likes the idea of flying


Defence Against the Dark ArtsEO
History of MagicA
Muggle StudiesO
Ancient StudiesE
Earth MagicE
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