Nicknames: B, Batty (affectionate); Batty (derogatory).
Birthdate: January 31st, 1813
Deathdate: 22nd July, 1884 at age 71
Current Age: 80 years
Gender: Female
Race: Ghost
Occupation: Eternal Socialite
Reputation: 8.
There was a flurry of speculation at the disintegration of her marriage in the 1830s although he never divorced her, even if he did move to Timbuktu. (Or – you know – somewhere. She couldn’t care less what became of the man.) Nowadays, Mrs. Bathsheba Fortescue still raises eyebrows from time to time, mostly because she insists on ‘living’ in much the same fashion as she did before her death.Residence: Fortescue Place, Minister’s Avenue, Wellingtonshire.
She has continued ‘living’ at her late residence, with the house still spotlessly kept. There is a protracted legal battle still undergoing the ownership of ‘her’ properties, but Bathsheba visits her house in Mayfair, London, regularly too.Hogwarts House: Gryffindor
Wand: Her wand in life (cedar, phoenix feather, 13”, swishy) now lives in a glass case on the mantelpiece.
Blood Status: Pureblood
Social Class: Upper
Family:
She was the middle of seven sisters, all of whom married into society and propagated families of their own. Bathsheba was less successful at that. She married Rolf Fortescue in a mostly-arranged affair – she did, at first, fancy him charming – but their marriage was nasty, brutish and short. They, unsurprisingly, had no children, and eventually separated, leaving Bathsheba to live out the rest of her days (happily) alone.
Nevertheless. Bathsheba considers herself related to almost everyone who is anyone in wizarding society. You may be assured she will find a connecting branch in her family tree. She perpetually has her eye out for a suitable protégé and spiritual ‘heir’ – though her goodwill has never yet lasted long enough on any one person to bestow her lingering last will and testaments (and accumulated fortune) upon them.
She still employs a butler and lady’s maid. She pays them extremely well and, were they to leave her, she knows all their dirty secrets. That said, having been with her pre- and post-death, they are as good as family to her now. Or more than that, actually. She addresses them, fondly, as Righty and Lefty.
Appearance:
Once blonde, blue-eyed and pretty, with a surprisingly willowy 5’8 frame, Bathsheba emerged from her salad days as a woman of formidable posture, poise, and power. Physically, her body did not much change with age, although she gained wrinkles and self-conviction in spades. She always kept up with the fashions of the day, and was a magpie for jewellery.Pity, then, that she did not die in any – for, severely ill and laid up in bed, Bathsheba was naturally wearing just a nightgown, and is now eternally draped in the same translucent ruffles, frills and lace. There is a tiny phlegm stain on the collar. If you point it out to her directly she’ll have your head.
History:
Bathsheba Lamb was born in 1813 in the days of the Regency, growing up at a time of war with America, social unrest, and – more importantly – empire waistlines. Born to a pureblood, upper class family, she had sisters on both sides and thus learned quickly to raise her voice (and pinch an arm or two) if she needed to be heard. A general fearlessness in her character led her to be sorted into Gryffindor in 1824, and she stayed through to her fifth year before being sent to France for finishing. In 1831, she was presented to society, and by 1833 she was engaged to Rolf Fortescue, with whom, for a time, she was grossly taken. The honeymoon phase did not last long – in fact, it scarcely even lasted the honeymoon, where everything that could go wrong did. Her new husband, shamelessly, even put up a prostitute in their Italian villa.
Things were no better on their return to British society, as Bathsheba began to make her mark as a respected socialite and, behind her back, her husband impeded all her efforts and insulted her to everyone he knew like the oaf he was.Who ended things is a riddle for the ages, although Bathsheba eventually won society’s favour in the not-divorce when he abandoned her like a scoundrel in 1839. Rolf’s life went downhill towards degeneracy and profligacy, so her spies across Europe tell her; she went back to her London life as the distinguished socialite she was, a respectable married woman in every regard besides actually possessing a husband.
Thankfully, he never meddled in her life after that, and certainly never showed his face in Britain. Bathsheba, for her part, enjoyed the independence. Having been forced to learn a thing or two about reality, she sorted out their finances, invested splendidly over the years and amassed a fortune she could scarcely spend fast enough. It helped that she had no children to budget for – instead, she became a staple name in charitable foundations and spent her middle age travelling the world, mostly until her hips started bothering her. In any case, she has plenty of stories to tell.In 1877 she bought a property in Hogsmeade and ‘settled down’ at 64 to a more sedentary existence. At about this point, she began meddling in her extended family – and, whether because of her no-nonsense manner or her ample finances, the gems and the troublemakers were foisted onto her company, both. She might have complained about being taken advantage of as a chaperone, but keeping an eye on the Youths did help to stay Relevant in Society, so. Her knowledge of society became near-encyclopaedic (and her advice sometimes sought, but always given). Nothing could slow her down – until she caught the Laughing Plague early in summer 1884. Well, there was no slipping out of the Hogsmeade quarantine then – she was already infected. Some distant Fortescue nephew came a-knocking, no doubt hoping to rob her blind the moment she croaked, but of course Bathsheba had to have the last laugh. She fell asleep and woke up again as usual, and gave that grabby-handed Fortescue a heart attack by floating downstairs in her nightgown, pearly-white.
Bathsheba has not let something as trivial as death stop her, to be sure. She continues to meddle in society and her extended family, won’t give up any of her property or possessions or the contents of the Gringotts vault without a long (and still ongoing) legal prizefight. Women ought to have some rights, of course – but more importantly, respectable dead women ought to have theirs. And just because she’s dead does not mean she will allow society to forget her – so if she doesn’t receive regular invitations or social calls like anyone else, you will not be in her good graces, and she’ll have something to say about that.
Personality: Clever, quick and frugal, Bathsheba has grown into herself over time. She is less scared to be herself or to make her opinions known, and she has life lessons to impart aplenty, although she famously insists that she only ever made one mistake. Not a trusting soul, she softens when she is duly respected, and when she has a favourite person of the moment she will shower them in gracious attention, though she doesn’t have much patience or pity for fuck-ups. Doesn’t mind knowing things or throwing caution to the wind here and there, but disdains idle gossipers and cowards, hypocrites and fools. She was raised purist and with fairly traditional values, but is prepared to move with the times if that means she isn’t left behind. One has to be in the vanguard, darling, or nowhere at all.
Other: —
Sample Roleplay Post:
Age: 28
