Pureblood Witch

Apple Employee
December 14
Lives in
Las Vegas, NV
Significant other
No Information

Last Active: Aug 12 2018, 09:20 PM
Just joined a Hallie Jotter RPG online, hmu for my plotter


“Knowledge in the darkest hour,
Becomes a wizard’s greatest power.”

Lochland Kilburn was the black sheep of the Kilburn family, disinterested and distracted from all that an uptight, old Wizarding family had to offer. Rather than finishing his final year at Ilvermorny, he decided to drop all ties with his family to escape an arranged marriage. Just liek that, he was burned off the painted tree on the wall detailing the generations upon generations of Kilburns. He lived like a bum on the streets of Boston, smoking cigarettes and without shelter most of the time. He'd duck into bars when he had enough change just to have a cold beer. But it was damn better than living with his parents.

He soon befriended a biker gang, known as the Metal Geese, who taught him how to ride the NoMaj version of a broom- a motorcycle. Lochland's rough exterior earned him respect among the weary older men who saw something so much more in him than a homeless guy. It's worth it to note that Lochland's wit, almost genetic in the Kilburn line, added to his charisma. Learning about this muggle way of life help him to survive, thrive, and find a new meaning.

The ride to Las Vegas, for a Metal Geese conference was a long and tiring journey, especially by bike. But once he was there, man- the lights seemed to make him feel incomplete. In Vegas, there's a juxtoposition of squalor versus the rich. Both roles changing ever so quickly over a simple game of chance in a casino. When playing, he always seemed to have very good luck- earning him the nickname "Lucky." Lochland now had a tattoo of it on his arm with dice- ask him about it. Lochland knew that he had to be smart so people wouldn't find out that he'd use magic to win big- but he was eventually found out anyway and taken to the back of Excalibur for "interrogation."

Lochland always knew how to take a hit, no matter how many bar fights he got into over the years, it turns out his perseverence only got stronger. However, that didn't erase the fear he felt when more blood started to drain out of him with each attack. He'd lost nearly two fingers when he decided to cheat- and use magic because quite frankly: Fuck Rappoport's Law. But it turns out that Las Vegas had a thriving Wizarding Community behind closed doors, and once he cast a spell- there were no ministry alarms, only shocked employees who were not prepared to come in contact with another wizard. With this new information, Lochland proceeded to talk his way out of the rest of the fight.

So what was this? He soon found out. Although there were parameters for the Law in general, Vegas was specifically targeted as an area where wizards could openly roam the streets and not be harrassed by muggles. If David Blaine and Criss Angel truly revealed their backgrounds, No Maj's would go crazy. But the slight of hand was lauded here of all places. However, Wizards were unable to manipulate muggle games, or use their powers for otherwise unfair profit. The man understood, and claimed full ignorance, shared his story, and went on his merry way. The Metal Geese, he decieed however, was not something he wanted to be a part of for the rest of his life, although he was thankful for their support over the years. The city itself was inspiring, and sparked a new sense of being in Lochland- he needed to find a way to stay.

But how?


A lot of people said Dolly Jameson that she was as sweet as apple pie. She was a blonde haired, blue-eyed country girl with roots as deep as the oldest tree on her front yard, which has been around for generations. Many a Sunday, she'd run around with her siblings as her grandparents watched from their porch, sipping sweet tea, and listening to Luke Bryan on their radio. She bought new cowboy boots every year, and wore them to the rodeo. Dolly played the banjo like nobody's business, and two stepped before she could walk.

However, the community in Virginia was small, and conservative to boot. Church was a bore, the grasses always stained her dresses, and her family was strict to a fault. Always a rule follower, she rarely got in trouble- that is, until weird things started happening, all of which she couldn't control. Her first sign of magic was a power outage, she was enraged because she could stay up late to watch her favorite cartoons. The second sign was a floating jar of cookies that made its way from the kitchen to the door of her room. The third indication that she was magical came by way of post- a letter which confirmed her beliefs that she had always a gift inside just waiting to come forth.

"Witchcraft? When had Witchcraft EVER been in God's plan, Lisa? Dolly doesn't belong at that devil worshipping place! We're not losing her to some trick spam mail that'll get her in danger."

"We made a promise to my sister, Ned. We knew this was going to happen. I don't believe in that stuff any more, but we need to at least give her the chance."

"The chance to what? Get herself killed? Magic is forbidden in this household. I just wanted to live a simple life with you. It's safer to be here, what with that Purium trackin' people down. We already have targets on our back from your side of the family."

"If she doesn't go, I have a feeling it might make things worse. At least let her go so she knows how to control it. I bet she'll be scared so much that she'll come running back here anyway."

"Fine. But you have to tell her the truth- all of it. She deserves to know."

"You're scared, aren't you? Of letting her go? She'll always be your daughter."

"No, she isn't. And she never was," He walked out the front door, "You know that as well as I do."

"Dolores!" Lisa called, putting the iron down, "We need to talk about the letters."

❤❤❤44% - Spotify playing: "I'm a Little Bit Country, I'm a Little Bit Rock and Roll."

At first, Dolly was angry for many years upon hearing that her pureblood parents gave her away to her aunt because she wasn't a boy. Come on- wasn't this generation past all that? It was so medieval, hilarious even- but that was the truth of her life. And she accepted it. Now she was an amalgamation of the two worlds, and often struggled with her beliefs. Being magical couldn't be so bad if she was born this way- yet she could feel a sense not not belonging whenever she attended mass. Her stepfather's disapproval felt like lasers on her back, but she prayed and hoped everything would come to pass.

When her sister, Carrie, was going to get married, a bachelorette party in Vegas seemed like the perfect getaway from their quiet life in Richmond, Virginia. As maid of honor, it was her responsibility to plan everything and play to what the group of girls would think was fun. Male strip show- check. Karaoke bar- check. "Magic" show- Check. Hotel reservations - check. As such a planner, she had a spreadsheet detailing everything she had to do, shared with the rest of the party. All of whom said she was too calculating, too specific- but it was better than the other extreme. Dolly was always organized, always on a time crunch, and determined to do her work perfectly. This had to be the best bachelorette party ever.

"Dolly, you have to go up there and sing...you've always had the sweetest voice." Carrie cringed listening to the current tattooed rocker doing a screamingly accurate rendion of "Crazy Train," it was obvious that the guy was too drunk to stand, so he pretty much leaned on the stand for support. It was entertaining at least.

"I don't know if this city would appreciate good ol' classic Country music," Dolly seemed to shrink in her floral dress and pink cowboy shoes, "It's your party... why don't you sing?"

"I can't sing to save my life." Carrie giggled, "Too bad, I signed you up already."

"What?!" Dolly, "What song did you-"

"Your namesake, it made sense. You know this song like the back of your hand." Carrie smirked behind her half-full glasses of Cosmopolitans.
When it was her turn, she stuck her tongue out at Carrie as she breathed into the microphone, waiting for the guitar to start, reading the words off the screen. Country music had a way of telling stories, and she waved a story with her soft voice as the usually rowdy crowd hushed to listen. When she was done, she walked off the stage, and "Crazy Train" watched in awe as she returned back into obscurity. He went to the DJ after chatting up one of the bridesmaids who was busy getting more drinks for the table at the bar and took control of the line up.

"Come out Virginia, don't let me wait
You Catholic girls start much too late
Aw but sooner or later it comes down to faith
Oh I might as well be the one..."


Lochland and Dolly lived on the strip inside the walls of Excalibur, raising their two kids: Justice and Joy. Justice took after the traditional values of Dolly, which meant that- Lucky and Joy were the most rambuctious duo. Joy would zoom through the Casino in her mini motorized "Harley" with Lucky in tow, his arms outstretched to catch his daughter, who never wanted to follow the rules. Joy made it a point to be the best at all the arcade games below the main floor, and would spend hours and hours showing off to her friends. Although she looked up to Justice, they never saw eye to eye on hobbies- so she was left to her own devices. Literally.

Technomagic was an alluring and fantastical interest of hers, along with the general construction of muggle mechanisms in the casino. She built her first slot machine before she went to Ilvermorny, and at the dawn of her fifth year, she'd created an interface as part of her submission to an internship for the Apple Magical Division. It was a chip that could regulate vitals, still a prototype- but it worked with a single touch. She tapped the front with the tip of her finger and gave a summary of her general health. Joy instantly felt a calm wash over her, a high unlike anything she'd felt before.

And just like that- she blew it all off when the applause got to her head.

It was relatively easy to get caught up in the Vegas lights that summer- she'd just turned sixteen. Sex, drugs, rock and roll were the name of the game, and for once she abandoned all her prior interests, trading in cash for "the next big thing." Being young and impressionable left a smorgasbord of opportunities and experiences to be had, including Pixie Dust. PD made her a little crazy, where usual logical decisions couldn't even touch her. One night, she hung out with her dealer and a grand scheme came to play.

"Joy, you have everything at your finger tips. You're going to be some techy exec with the elite, making things for people- what more could you ever want?"

"The more you say it like that, it sounds like a jail. Dad says jail is never fun."

"You're deflecting."

"I just wanna be like... that." Joy pointed to a wall, where a buxom pin-up girl was posing seductively in front of the camera, "All my life, everyone's called me a brain without body. Every day, I see these hot chick showgirl types on the strip, and there's never been anyone to look at me like that. I'm not a metamorphmagus and can't change my appearance at will, and there's no way in HELL, I am going under a NoMaj's knife to make my dreams a reality."

"Joy," he said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, "You've always been beautiful. But I reckon I can make it happen." Pause. "But first, let's take another hit."

Joy laid down on his coffee table, in a bathing suit of all things, blissed out of her mind when needles were stuck into her arms and parts of her face.

"Don't cut me, please..." she began to cry, when the procedure was just about to begin, "I- I can't move."

Potions and concoctions began to shoot into her blood stream, and the last thing she saw was that damn calendar hung up on the wall.

❤❤❤❤❤84% CHARGED - Upgrade Available, restart device now or later?

The effects were startling to say the least- she was unrecognizable. And boys certainly did notice. Being the pregnant girl during her seventh year at Ilvermorny was difficult, and whenever she looked into her mother's eyes- disappointment dripped along with those tears. Joy was beginning to think that she deserved some kind of punishment for all that she'd done, and everything came to fruition when she lost her baby, a month before she was due.

Things were not looking bright for the child or the mother, and after just recieving word that she was at risk as well, the young girl began counting all the things that she'd been thankful for- all the blessings, all the number whizzing past her brain, as if to calculate her exact time of death.

"There are still remnants of pixie dust in your system, Miss KIlburn. It's done a lot of damage to your heart, and we simply don't have the technology here to take it all out."

For the first time in her life, it seemed that machines were failing her. She had a week to live, but there had to be a choice. Whenever faced with a problem, there had to be loopholes, to bide her time before she passed on. There was still so much she had yet to do.

"Mom?" Joy called out, "I don't have much time left... I know this. But I have an idea."

No Healer in their right mind wanted to perform what Claire Harcourt was unafraid to do. If No-Maj's could walk around freely with robotic parts, why couldn't she? Although she didn't have the knowledge of anatomy like a healer, she viewed the human body like a well oiled machine. Joy Kilburn was going to save herself with the mock prototype she'd designed two years ago.

"It's risky, and I don't want you to die like this." Justice wept as they took her away in the stretcher.

"If I don't make it- tell everyone I love them." Joy called with a single fist in the air, an eighties reference to The Breakfast Club, one of her all time favorite movies.

It was better to die with science in her veins, than without trying. There was no person on this earth that Joy trusted more than herself, even more so her own mind. Whether she lived or failed, she knew that it was worth it to reach for the stars.


Although the operation was a success, there was no sure indication that what happened to her was a sure cure for those affected by pixie dust. Her prototype had been always configurede to her body, her DNA, her constant states of unrest. A very small part of her, she accepted, was always going to be entwined with technology- and now it was keeping her alive. Keeping her miscarriage out of conversation made it easier, being dismissed quite easily to even those close to her. However, the Kilburn family all lauded this miracle behind closed doors. It seemed that Joy had learned her lessons about experimental drug use- even for now.

Joy finished her last year at Ilvermorny with flying colors, including the Arithmancy Achievement Accolade given to a handful of students each year. Although still being offered a job with the AMD, it came with certain conditions after shye submitted a health and wellness report. A year hiatus, with additional weekly rehab visits before her full fledged position amongst the chosen few "geniuses" - engineers and prgrammers who lived and breathed life in binary. So, Joy was left alone most of the time, working on different projects- creating things of her own as a freelancer, being paid to solve problems that the smartest mathematicians couldn't solve on their own. If there was a similar title for ghost-writing in her field, that was what she did. Joy would pour her heart while other people got the credit, and being anonymous kept her comfortable.

Although brilliant, she never actively searched for the spotlight. Every single thing that she'd done in her life, some might even say was selfishly done, and never for other people. Peer pressure was something she grew out of, and all the modifications done to her exterior was to help her become the best version of herself she could even dream of. To be a Kilburn, she learned later on after researching her family's lineage, was one of continuing a legacy and a lifelong search for knowledge.

Who knows where it would lead her next?
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