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astramagoriaName: Zelda Pollux
Aliases/Nicknames: Zel
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Pansexual
Occupation: Witch-for-hire, Spectral Freelancer
Age: 29
Distinguishing Marks: Tattoos, protective runes on her right flank, right hip, and inside of her left wrist.
Known Languages: Fluent in English, conversational in Gaelic, mediocre in Ancient Greek.
History:Zelda Pollux came from a fractured family on a block of run-down flats in London. Deadbeat mother, father who argued with her about everything, she spent her youth getting in and out of trouble with her school’s administrators and teachers. She managed to scrape by into graduating, but afterwards, she was aimless.
Late one night that summer, she was arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct. After waiting for a few hours in the cell, she was visited by a tall, impossibly regal woman who introduced herself as Morgan Evans. Morgan gave Zel an offer: she’d ensure that the charges were dropped, if Zel agreed to learn magic. Zel laughed until Morgan turned her handcuffs into smoke and teleported them halfway across the world. She didn’t hesitate, just answered yes.
Thus began her tutelage. Morgan lived and worked in a brownstone in Greenwich Village, but there were a handful of secret entrances around the world: London, Cairo, Beijing, and the like. She ran what she called a “magical consulting firm,” a sort of witch-for-hire. In her downtime, Morgan monitored leylines and weak points in reality, where two different realms or dimensions rubbed up against one another. Zel took to her studies well, catching on quickly. She had issues with the exact grammar of magic and translations, but the general knack and artistry came naturally. And Morgan taught her more general things: how to cook better, how to talk to people without pissing them off, how to pay her taxes.
Bit by bit, she actually started understanding happiness and purpose.
A few weeks after Zel’s twenty-first birthday, she and Morgan went to investigate a phantasmic anomaly. While Morgan encouraged her to take the lead, it ended in disaster - the anomaly was far, far too strong and complicated for Zel to handle. The force ripped her soul out of her body, nearly killing her. Morgan managed to seal the anomaly and recover Zel’s soul, but the damage was done. Zel was bedridden for nearly a month; as soon as she could stand without passing out she left, fully intent on never dealing with magic again.
For a few years, she drifted, jumping from one job to another: record shop, supermarket, liquor store, etc. It was sometimes hard to get a job without any real college education - magical tutoring didn’t count - and harder still to keep one with “undiagnosed epilepsy,” as her employers and roommates saw it. In reality, the accident caused Zel’s soul to occasionally split from her body, a sort of involuntary astral projection. She self-medicated with some meditation and a lot of alcohol. Morgan popped up every now and then, though never for long. She always sent a card on Zel’s birthday, which would invariably be waiting for her when she woke up, address or one-night-stand be damned. Occasionally, Zel would check her bank balance to find an extra few hundred dollars in there, or a bill paid, or something similar. She took the attempts at an apology, but never reached out.
And then Morgan died. Zel has never figured out how - accident, murder, overexertion, sacrifice - but regardless, her sanctum needed a keeper. And as elitist and controlling and smotheringly nice as Morgan could be, a part of Zel still loved her. She moved in, did a little redecorating, reconfigured some of the runes and entrances, and carried on.
Personality: Abrasive, frequently selfish, prone to alcohol abuse, untrusting.
Aliases/Nicknames: Zel
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Pansexual
Occupation: Witch-for-hire, Spectral Freelancer
Age: 29
Distinguishing Marks: Tattoos, protective runes on her right flank, right hip, and inside of her left wrist.
Known Languages: Fluent in English, conversational in Gaelic, mediocre in Ancient Greek.
History:Zelda Pollux came from a fractured family on a block of run-down flats in London. Deadbeat mother, father who argued with her about everything, she spent her youth getting in and out of trouble with her school’s administrators and teachers. She managed to scrape by into graduating, but afterwards, she was aimless.
Late one night that summer, she was arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct. After waiting for a few hours in the cell, she was visited by a tall, impossibly regal woman who introduced herself as Morgan Evans. Morgan gave Zel an offer: she’d ensure that the charges were dropped, if Zel agreed to learn magic. Zel laughed until Morgan turned her handcuffs into smoke and teleported them halfway across the world. She didn’t hesitate, just answered yes.
Thus began her tutelage. Morgan lived and worked in a brownstone in Greenwich Village, but there were a handful of secret entrances around the world: London, Cairo, Beijing, and the like. She ran what she called a “magical consulting firm,” a sort of witch-for-hire. In her downtime, Morgan monitored leylines and weak points in reality, where two different realms or dimensions rubbed up against one another. Zel took to her studies well, catching on quickly. She had issues with the exact grammar of magic and translations, but the general knack and artistry came naturally. And Morgan taught her more general things: how to cook better, how to talk to people without pissing them off, how to pay her taxes.
Bit by bit, she actually started understanding happiness and purpose.
A few weeks after Zel’s twenty-first birthday, she and Morgan went to investigate a phantasmic anomaly. While Morgan encouraged her to take the lead, it ended in disaster - the anomaly was far, far too strong and complicated for Zel to handle. The force ripped her soul out of her body, nearly killing her. Morgan managed to seal the anomaly and recover Zel’s soul, but the damage was done. Zel was bedridden for nearly a month; as soon as she could stand without passing out she left, fully intent on never dealing with magic again.
For a few years, she drifted, jumping from one job to another: record shop, supermarket, liquor store, etc. It was sometimes hard to get a job without any real college education - magical tutoring didn’t count - and harder still to keep one with “undiagnosed epilepsy,” as her employers and roommates saw it. In reality, the accident caused Zel’s soul to occasionally split from her body, a sort of involuntary astral projection. She self-medicated with some meditation and a lot of alcohol. Morgan popped up every now and then, though never for long. She always sent a card on Zel’s birthday, which would invariably be waiting for her when she woke up, address or one-night-stand be damned. Occasionally, Zel would check her bank balance to find an extra few hundred dollars in there, or a bill paid, or something similar. She took the attempts at an apology, but never reached out.
And then Morgan died. Zel has never figured out how - accident, murder, overexertion, sacrifice - but regardless, her sanctum needed a keeper. And as elitist and controlling and smotheringly nice as Morgan could be, a part of Zel still loved her. She moved in, did a little redecorating, reconfigured some of the runes and entrances, and carried on.
Personality: Abrasive, frequently selfish, prone to alcohol abuse, untrusting.
