In-Character
Birth Name: Louise Annabeth FairbanksFull Name: Avery Davenport
Nicknames: Avery
Birthdate: 1 January 1868
Current Age: 25 Years
Gender: Female
Occupation: Creature Healer & Magizoologist
Reputation: 9 | As an American with a Southern Accent, she's not very used to English society or customs; she's a little rough around the edges and can sometimes be forward and unfiltered
Residence: Avalon Glen
Hogwarts House: N/A
Wand: English Oak, 10 ½", whippy, thunderbird feather
Blood Status: Halfblood
Social Class: Working Class
Family:
Margaret Alexandria Fairbanks née _______ ; Mother†
Spencer Johnathan Fairbanks; Father†
Marigold Davenport; Daughter; b. 1889
Sundance; Palomino Horse
Appearance:
Being born a Metamorphmagus, Avery worked hard to keep her abilities hidden from as many people as she could. Of course, rumors spread and eventually Avery ended up being confronted by a fellow student who - feel particularly philosophical that day - told her about the theory of the ship of Theseus; tried to attribute it to her abilities to change individual parts of herself. He suspiciously ended up with a red mark on his face that no one would be able to quite explain the next day.
When it comes to her appearance, Avery has been told so many times what to wear and how to act that once free, she relished in being able to dress how she wanted. Despite being rather rough around the edges, she enjoys wearing flower-print patterned skirts during the day with a simple white blouse, neck-tie waistcoat and belt; cotton, however will need to get them re-worked into heavier fabrics for the northern weather. During work, she dons a simple outfit with a split-riding skirt, leaning towards darker tones and sports a brown dragon-hide, wide brimmed hat to protect her from the sun; a family heirloom she salvaged before leaving their home (along with dragon hide gloves for work).
Without any magic involved, Avery's hair can range from a light brown to a dark blonde depending on the weather. Countless days in the heat of the American South have seen it take on hues of medium blonde mixed in. Though often marked by dirt working with animals, Avery's skin still has taken on a tanned-hue, a gift from working outside. Though she could change it, she rarely sees the need to unless she's moonlighting. Standing at an even 5' 5", Avery's build is sturdy; she packs a punch, and is in good shape thanks to chasing after animals. She generally comes across a bit imposing but polite - Southern Hospitality is hard to kick - and speaks with a traditional Southern American accent. Her wand arm is her right.
History:
once, i was seven years old, my mama told me
“go make yourself some friends, or you'll be lonely”
The first thing I remember learning from Papa was that everything belonged to the earth. The rocks; the trees; the leaves; the animals; even us, magic-folk or not. We were all made of the same stuff. Some of us were just born luckier than others. When I asked him, he said there was no rhyme or reason. But that there was no telling what happened after life so we’d best behave and treat everything like it wa’n’t no better than us; and we ain’t no better than them. And when I asked him what happened to us when it ended, he said we returned to the earth no matter what we looked like, in all forms.
“We don’t go to the sky?” I asked.
He shook his head, cradlin’ me close; then reached forward and pat the ground beside us. “No, Lou.” he said. “We go to the earth.”
I didn’t understand what he meant until the next summer when our neighbor, Mrs. Cleary died. And it wa’n’t til I found Mr. Cleary in his front yard the next mornin’ after her funeral, lying in a pool of red that seeped between the blades of grass into the ground below with his gun next to him that I understood what Papa meant by ‘all forms’. This earth will take you as you are. It don’t matter if you’re ready or not.
it was a big-big world, but we thought we were bigger
pushing each other to the limits, we were learning quicker
It was Papa that wanted me to be a proper young lady and debut. But Mama new different. When she saw my hair color change less than 3 days out the womb, she knew. The world we lived in would chew me up, spit me back out like a lump of swollen tobacco. So the first night when I look down at my drawers and saw blood, well that’s when she told me somethin’. She can’t treat me like a lady anymore and neither would my daddy. She would teach me to get my powers under control, and Papa would teach me how to handle everythin’ else. And she meant everythin’ else. We were a family of magic-folk, but they preferred to keep to the no-maj side of things when we could. The world was a cruel place, Papa said, and magic made it easier. Best thing we could do would be to learn how to survive on our own.
The following years would keep me sharp as a razor, but it all came at a price. Whenever I strayed from the path, Mama’s voice would crack through the air like a whip. And when I did anything right, lookin’ to her for praise, I might as well have kept lookin’ until beyond the horizon. Papa’s veneer would crack a few times: a glass of lemonade here or there, a sip of whiskey on holidays. He’d tell me Mama was only doin’ it out of the love of her heart. It was an awful strange way of showin’ love if you ask me. She may have been hard on me, but she didn’t ever hit me or nothin’. The first time someone would lay a hand on me would be much later. For now, Papa made sure I knew how to keep ‘em at a distance.
now these years locked in my drawer
i'll open to see just to be sure
i can't sleep
Papa smelled like whiskey, leather and gun-powder. Everythin’ he knew was from his daddy, a magic born no-maj: my Papaw. And before he knew he had any magic in him, he knew a thing or two about guns and other weapons of the like. Gifted me with my first huntin’ knife and taught me how to crack a whip so hard it would rattle the air; we’d have drawing contests with fake wood guns he carved from an apple tree branch in the orchard. Papaw was the one gentle with me. He taught me about animals on the farm, about the gardens in his yard and the crops in his fields. Then Nana taught me about magical creatures; healin’, trainin’, even how to birth ‘em. She would tell me how her family hated that she not only married down, but married to a muggleborn and an American.
“Is that why you sound so funny?” I shrieked with laughter one day. Her words always sounded different to me. There were some times when I tried to mimic them and I got pretty damn good at it too. It was my favorite time, bein’ with them. But then Mama would call me in and it was back to work. I thought it would never let up, but then one day she softened. I could see it with m’own two eyes even though it was only as slight as a man’s last dying breath. She was still tough on me, teaching me fightin’ one day, horseback ridin’ the next and then back and forth. Magic came second, but by then I was a quick learner.
I thought it would go on forever until one day it didn’t. It happened so fast and they came so swift. Mama was fast, she knocked the wind out of me, stuffed me in the wardrobe and told me to stay quiet. I’ll never forget the look on her face; her mask finally cracked for just a moment: I saw the love in her eyes as she looked at me and I see it every time I close my eyes at night, searched every inch of her expression and I’ve finally come to the conclusion that no one could do that without truly meaning it. And then just as soon as it appeared, it disappeared. But not before she kissed my forehead; told me she and Papa loved me; told me to cover my ears and turned the lock.
run little girl, run little girl —
A quiet soul, they told me. They needed a quiet soul for some of the wilder animals that wouldn’t let you get within an inch of them, even for feedin’ time. I sure as hell was one. I assume that’s happens in the following years after you find your family slaughtered. But they needed extra hands and I had two, and I proved as much to ‘em soon enough. Kept my head down to earn my keep and that was that. My Papaw’s wisdom paid off and I nearly lost my head to one of them beasts only once. Wasn't much left to do other than cry myself to sleep, cause when I closed my eyes all I saw were my last few moments with them. But Papa was right. The earth don’t care how many tears you give it or how much blood is spilled. Ain’t nothin’ you can do to get them back.
Workin’ at a zoo was somethin ’ else. The clientele always varied; some were decent people, but others I could tell were lookin’ for trouble. So I made sure to keep to myself. Wouldn’t do me any good to go and show people what I could do, unless I wanted to be an attraction all by my lonesome. Beau was easy to hide behind. He was a mountain. I was good at hidin’. I could tell somethin’ was botherin’ him almost every day; could tell it in the set of his jaw, but I didn’t ask him and he didn’t ask me. The rest of my time I spent watching Beau or the other workers do what they did best. The zoo is meant to be wild and an escape into another land with fantastical creatures. For me, it became home.
all day, every day, therapist, mother, maid
nymph then a virgin, nurse then a servant
I thought I’d stay with them a good long time, but I let my guard down. Got too comfortable. I thought she would be a friend, at least that’s what she told me. Should have known better. She had me signing that contract and bound by magic faster than I could say stop. Tell you the truth, I don’t really remember much of it. California was my new home though; nuthin’ much I could do other than pack my things and say what goodbyes I could. She told me she collected people like me, the ones who could do fancy things like change appearances, small wandless magic, predicting small things and the like. Made her no-maj customers that much more eager to come back to us, you see. She was a smart lady. Had us watch actual no-maj magicians so we could see how they did their ‘weaker’ magic tricks. Mimicked them and practiced with each other.
She called us her jewels; gave us nicknames like gemstones; took our real ones and told us make the customers guess what gemstone we were. Like shiny trinkets that you play with in a game. We grew to hate both names, all of us. So instead, we chose our own names between us. Ours and no one else’s. We taught each other different accents, came up with different backstories for the customers who craved somethin’ more. We helped each other when we could. I got good at lookin’ like the other girls; learning what they talked like; learning what their laughs sounded like. I got pretty good.
The Madam told us to stay out of trouble where clients were concerned. If you got pregnant, she’d pay to make it go away but only once. The second time would come outta your wages. Those that had to go a third time never came back. We never saw ‘em again. And ‘cause I was what she called a commodity, I got more chances. But eventually, all luck runs out. Turns out mine lasted a bit longer. I didn’t think she’d let me go so easily, but I think the man wanted me bad enough and paid enough that I went with him. Said he’d give me a good life so as long as I minded myself. I was too desperate to leave the place to ask him to specify what that meant.
just an appendage, live to attend him
so that he never lifts a finger
At the madam’s our every move was watched. We couldn’t do much or go anywhere ‘cept where we were told. I always wanted to own a garden of my own, to grow vegetables and flowers; just to be able to sit and watch them grow on their own time; with no help from the outside world, bravin’ the elements as they grew. I wanted the same for my kids. Marigold. I promised myself that I would let her grow on her own; and teach her how to brave the elements with a guiding hand. But you can only guide with what you’re given. And turns out, I wasn’t given much. He gave me a new name. Had me learn from healers so he wouldn’t have to trust anyone new. Then there was the cleanin’, cookin’, and then goin’ out at night. He said I was the one to risk gettin’ in trouble. Had me liftin’ things, some of them from places I didn’t even know existed. Anythin’ I could carry. And somehow, that man and his silver tongue managed to talk his way outta anything. I thought he’d get me in trouble at least once; but was a small town, and they had bigger problems than someone liftin’ things from people passin’ through. Wasn’t long ‘til I wondered how to get out.
so now i've gotta run, so i can undo this mistake
at least i've gotta try
I told you my luck was bound to run out. But it wasn’t this year ‘cause when that man died, he left something for us. Not everythin’; that went to his mama, and she ain’t ever liked me. But enough to start planning; enough to start anew. For some reason, he didn’t want t’keep me trapped here, but it had to be quick; a few letters sent and I finally got ahold of someone. I’m prayin’ to God I find somethin’ there; I can’t stay here anymore; not if I want freedom.
Personality:
— UNFILTERED — LOUD — INDEPENDENT — PROTECTIVE — STERN —
Out-of-Character
Name: Lady
