Yvonne Wolff, the Illusionist

Name: Born Celia Bowen-Wolff, changed her name to Yvonne Daria Wolff
Place of Birth: Avon, England
Place of Residence: Rookhaven Academy
Height: 5'1"
Weight: Never ask a lady.
Eyes: Pale crystal blue
Hair: Natural black
Skin pallor: Pale-fair
Identifying Marks: None
Father: Horatio the Great; deceased but still around.
Mother: Anabelle Bowen; gone but not forgotten.
Siblings: None she's aware of, but dad was something of a womanizer.
Occupation: Master Illusionist.
True abilities: Nothing given away outright. One must learn to watch and listen with patience and promise.

Mother and father's tale isn't one of epic romance, or even of common desire beyond a short affair. Celia's father, a theatrical performer, met her mother during one of his visits to London. She was attractive enough and more than willing, and so he spent his few days in the city with her. Four days later, he left with promises of return that held no intention of depth.

Celia's mother spent the next, almost, seven years pining for a man that would never return. Heart broken beyond function, it was shortly after Celia's sixth birthday that her mother took her own life, the means matter little. Though Celia had heard of her father, nearly every day of her young life, he was a man she'd never met until the passing of her mother. By mysterious means of her mother's friend, the child's father was found.

She sat quietly in a crowded back-stage room where her father's clothing and equipment had been set up with her mother's friend standing at her side. She didn't know the man's name, but he stood patiently, waiting for the show to end. When it did, and Celia's father returned to his dressing room, the conversation was brief. Leaning down more level with Celia, he examined her like a jeweler would do a stone still rough. She never looked at him, not once.

"I suppose I do not have a choice..." Her father responded with exasperation as the reality set in that he now had a child he hadn't ever been made aware of. The friend took his leave, wishing Celia the best of luck.

Only a few short days later, he and Celia were seated in yet another back-stage dressing room. It was still nearly an hour before the show started. Her father was fussing over his doves. Celia found boredom setting in and had dazed off in her thoughts when the pocket watch on the small coffee table began to spin in place. Faster and faster it spun, the chain whipping dangerously. Certainly it was enough to gain her father's attention.

"Celia, are you doing that?" It was unclear if she heard him or not. The watch jumped up off the table and shattered. A hundred tiny pieces exploded, some landing on the table, some landing on the floor. "Celia!" The man cursed and muttered. Leaning forward, he reached to begin cleaning up the pieces of his now useless watch, but before he could reach for the first gear, every shattered portion disappeared. He found the watch returned to the coffee table, in pristine condition.

"Have you always been able to do such things?" He inquired.

And so, it began.

Class Schedule:
1st Period - Calculus; AP
2nd Period - Canvas Art
3rd Period - European History AP
4th Period - Physics AP
5th Period - Literature AP
-- IV Stella Torres
Lunch
6th Period - General Magic 004
7th Period - Illusionary Magic 004
Dinner
After Class Elective: Sculpture