Tim the YetiHere we go! Hopefully this is the kind of character you're looking for!
Name: Fiona Grant
Age: 27
Appearance: Fiona has skin that is porcelain white, and that, like most of Fiona’s appearance, is by design. She often has on dark red lipstick and uses makeup to exaggerate her cheekbones for a harsher, more angular look. Her long hair is dyed black, sharp bangs sweeping across her forehead, resting just above her eyes. She only wears black, but keeps up with the latest fashion trends. If she had to pick a style icon, Wednesday Addams is the first that comes to mind. Fiona has curated her style with care and takes great pride in her appearance.
Concept: It had started out as a joke, but quickly turned in a way to make a quick buck. Her friends used to joke that Fiona could talk anyone into anything. Pair that with her witchy aesthetic and you have yourself a bonafide fake medium. First it was just a party trick, something to whip out with over exaggerated hand movements and palm reading. Then, after realizing she could make money from it, Fiona started charging to tell people’s future. She claimed to talk to the beyond and tell the future. A few kitschy crystals here, and a dash of occult paraphernalia there set her stage. It all came down to watching people closely and feeding them information. They’d perk up when she’d mention something generic they mistook as more. Their head would twitch just a bit when she happened upon a detail. Micro Expressions, as she would later learn, could tell her everything she needed to know. People heard what they wanted to and the self-fulfilling prophecy would take effect. It didn’t take much work on Fiona’s part.
Fiona kept up her little con for most of college. There was nothing other-wordly going on, just a girl who knew how to read people extremely well. One of her clients, however, changed all that. A beautiful and mysterious woman came to her office one evening just as Fiona was closing up. Fiona tried to kick her out, having a party to make it to, but the woman had convinced her to do one more reading. What started out as a normal reading quickly turned on its head. When Fiona took both of the woman’s hands, pretending to contact the other side, a blinding heat burned through her head. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, but no matter how hard Fiona tried to drop her hands she couldn’t. Eventually the pain became too much and Fiona’s world went black.
When Fiona came to it was the next morning and the woman was missing. She convinced herself she was drugged when she realized all of her money was gone. But, strange things started happening. People kept appearing and disappearing in her peripheral. Voices came to her when she knew she was alone. Eventually Fiona figured out she wasn’t going crazy, she could talk to ghosts. What started out as a con became her reality through some kind of twisted irony. Fiona was a real life medium.
Powers/Skills: Fiona is a smooth talker and picks up quickly on other people’s body language and micro expressions. She can talk to ghosts when they reach out to her. She’s had some success channeling particular ghosts, but most of the time she has to wait for them to come to her.
Writing Sample:
Age: 27
Appearance: Fiona has skin that is porcelain white, and that, like most of Fiona’s appearance, is by design. She often has on dark red lipstick and uses makeup to exaggerate her cheekbones for a harsher, more angular look. Her long hair is dyed black, sharp bangs sweeping across her forehead, resting just above her eyes. She only wears black, but keeps up with the latest fashion trends. If she had to pick a style icon, Wednesday Addams is the first that comes to mind. Fiona has curated her style with care and takes great pride in her appearance.
Concept: It had started out as a joke, but quickly turned in a way to make a quick buck. Her friends used to joke that Fiona could talk anyone into anything. Pair that with her witchy aesthetic and you have yourself a bonafide fake medium. First it was just a party trick, something to whip out with over exaggerated hand movements and palm reading. Then, after realizing she could make money from it, Fiona started charging to tell people’s future. She claimed to talk to the beyond and tell the future. A few kitschy crystals here, and a dash of occult paraphernalia there set her stage. It all came down to watching people closely and feeding them information. They’d perk up when she’d mention something generic they mistook as more. Their head would twitch just a bit when she happened upon a detail. Micro Expressions, as she would later learn, could tell her everything she needed to know. People heard what they wanted to and the self-fulfilling prophecy would take effect. It didn’t take much work on Fiona’s part.
Fiona kept up her little con for most of college. There was nothing other-wordly going on, just a girl who knew how to read people extremely well. One of her clients, however, changed all that. A beautiful and mysterious woman came to her office one evening just as Fiona was closing up. Fiona tried to kick her out, having a party to make it to, but the woman had convinced her to do one more reading. What started out as a normal reading quickly turned on its head. When Fiona took both of the woman’s hands, pretending to contact the other side, a blinding heat burned through her head. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, but no matter how hard Fiona tried to drop her hands she couldn’t. Eventually the pain became too much and Fiona’s world went black.
When Fiona came to it was the next morning and the woman was missing. She convinced herself she was drugged when she realized all of her money was gone. But, strange things started happening. People kept appearing and disappearing in her peripheral. Voices came to her when she knew she was alone. Eventually Fiona figured out she wasn’t going crazy, she could talk to ghosts. What started out as a con became her reality through some kind of twisted irony. Fiona was a real life medium.
Powers/Skills: Fiona is a smooth talker and picks up quickly on other people’s body language and micro expressions. She can talk to ghosts when they reach out to her. She’s had some success channeling particular ghosts, but most of the time she has to wait for them to come to her.
Writing Sample:
A cigarette hung precariously in between two thin fingers. It’s smoke swirled away delicately in the icy wind cutting through even the smoker’s leather jacket. A young woman took another long drag, reveling in the nicotine rushing through her body. “You know Charlie,” she started, breaking the silence between her and the leggy blonde leaning next to her. “I was doing some thinking,”
“Oh? Something from the other side speaking to the great and mighty Fiona?” the blonde interrupted dryly. Charlie was one of the only people who knew Fiona’s secret and liked to poke fun at it every chance she got.
“I think I am going to that party after all. Fuck Sean,” she said defiantly, stomping out her cigarette for dramatic flair.
“And when you run into him at Aaron’s?”
“I ignore him.”
“You mean you’ll pretend to ignore him while pinning silently after him in the corner somewhere until you end up back at his place again, only to call me in the morning to come meet you for post hate-sex coffee and eggs.”
“You love coffee and eggs,” Fiona said, her attention being quickly drawn to the shop behind them as the familiar ding of the little bell announced another customer. Charlie just offered a half wave as she pushed herself off the wall, knowing her friend had work.
“You better show up this time Fi. I’m not going alone again.” She was already sauntering off before Fiona could respond. She closed the back door to the ally as she entered back into “The Mystic Eye”.
“I’m sorry love, but we’re closing up for the night. You’ll have to come back tomorrow. The spirits are tired and so am I,” Fiona said, making her way up to the front.
“I think they’ll have time for one more. I’ll pay double.” said a voice, smooth as butter. Fiona perked up at the offer. A quick “fortune is coming your way” and “yes grammy misses you too” and she’d be on her way. With the double fare she might even have enough to grab a cab to the party.
“I can’t make any promises, but we’ll see if they’re still around,” Fiona said, walking through a beaded curtain to the counter in the doorway of her shop. With the sun fully set behind the skyline, the only light came from the many candles Fiona had on around the room and the streetlight from across the street peaking in through the window. Even in the low light though, Fiona could tell the woman in front of her was beautiful. She towered over the psychic’s 5’9 stature in impressive heels. The black overcoat she wore looked more expensive than Fiona’s rent. Her skin was a warm caramel color and her hair laid in soft curls down her back. People like her didn’t come into “The Mystic Eye”.
“So who is it you’re trying to reach?” she asked as she ushered the woman into the back room, offering her a seat across a small circular table.
“His name was Alastor,” she said, seeming to float down into the seat, her posture immaculate.
“Okay, let’s see here…” Fiona said, pretending to take extra effort to settle into her seat, letting out a sigh. She forewent any chanting or over dramatics, figuring this woman would have seen through the act. No, it was better to keep it in the subtleties with this one. “Is there something of his you have, something to help me find him?” she asked after a few minutes pretending to concentrate. Really, Fiona was just picking out her outfit for the evening. Maybe that new little black dress she got at Benny’s. That with her black booties might be just the ticket.
“I have an old coin of his. Said it brought him luck,” said the woman, pulling out an odd looking gold coin. Fiona took it and turned it in her hands. A few of the symbols looked familiar, but it wasn’t an ordinary coin.
“Here take my hands and think of the last time you saw him. Really concentrate on the details. How he smelled, what he was wearing. That kind of thing,” Fiona instructed, offering her hands to the woman across from her. As soon she she grabbed them, the coin pressing hard into her left hand, Fiona felt a scorching pain radiating behind her eyes. It was like the worst migraine she had ever had, pressure building in her head that felt like it would pop at any moment. Fiona let out a pained cry, unable to pull away from the woman. Her vision turned white hot as if there was a spotlight being shined directly into her eyes despite how dark the room was.Just as the pain grew to the point Fiona was begging for death, her world went black.
“Oh? Something from the other side speaking to the great and mighty Fiona?” the blonde interrupted dryly. Charlie was one of the only people who knew Fiona’s secret and liked to poke fun at it every chance she got.
“I think I am going to that party after all. Fuck Sean,” she said defiantly, stomping out her cigarette for dramatic flair.
“And when you run into him at Aaron’s?”
“I ignore him.”
“You mean you’ll pretend to ignore him while pinning silently after him in the corner somewhere until you end up back at his place again, only to call me in the morning to come meet you for post hate-sex coffee and eggs.”
“You love coffee and eggs,” Fiona said, her attention being quickly drawn to the shop behind them as the familiar ding of the little bell announced another customer. Charlie just offered a half wave as she pushed herself off the wall, knowing her friend had work.
“You better show up this time Fi. I’m not going alone again.” She was already sauntering off before Fiona could respond. She closed the back door to the ally as she entered back into “The Mystic Eye”.
“I’m sorry love, but we’re closing up for the night. You’ll have to come back tomorrow. The spirits are tired and so am I,” Fiona said, making her way up to the front.
“I think they’ll have time for one more. I’ll pay double.” said a voice, smooth as butter. Fiona perked up at the offer. A quick “fortune is coming your way” and “yes grammy misses you too” and she’d be on her way. With the double fare she might even have enough to grab a cab to the party.
“I can’t make any promises, but we’ll see if they’re still around,” Fiona said, walking through a beaded curtain to the counter in the doorway of her shop. With the sun fully set behind the skyline, the only light came from the many candles Fiona had on around the room and the streetlight from across the street peaking in through the window. Even in the low light though, Fiona could tell the woman in front of her was beautiful. She towered over the psychic’s 5’9 stature in impressive heels. The black overcoat she wore looked more expensive than Fiona’s rent. Her skin was a warm caramel color and her hair laid in soft curls down her back. People like her didn’t come into “The Mystic Eye”.
“So who is it you’re trying to reach?” she asked as she ushered the woman into the back room, offering her a seat across a small circular table.
“His name was Alastor,” she said, seeming to float down into the seat, her posture immaculate.
“Okay, let’s see here…” Fiona said, pretending to take extra effort to settle into her seat, letting out a sigh. She forewent any chanting or over dramatics, figuring this woman would have seen through the act. No, it was better to keep it in the subtleties with this one. “Is there something of his you have, something to help me find him?” she asked after a few minutes pretending to concentrate. Really, Fiona was just picking out her outfit for the evening. Maybe that new little black dress she got at Benny’s. That with her black booties might be just the ticket.
“I have an old coin of his. Said it brought him luck,” said the woman, pulling out an odd looking gold coin. Fiona took it and turned it in her hands. A few of the symbols looked familiar, but it wasn’t an ordinary coin.
“Here take my hands and think of the last time you saw him. Really concentrate on the details. How he smelled, what he was wearing. That kind of thing,” Fiona instructed, offering her hands to the woman across from her. As soon she she grabbed them, the coin pressing hard into her left hand, Fiona felt a scorching pain radiating behind her eyes. It was like the worst migraine she had ever had, pressure building in her head that felt like it would pop at any moment. Fiona let out a pained cry, unable to pull away from the woman. Her vision turned white hot as if there was a spotlight being shined directly into her eyes despite how dark the room was.Just as the pain grew to the point Fiona was begging for death, her world went black.
