Victoria Frankenstein

That which does not breath

Let that which dead remain dead. Let that which lives remain alive. And pray for those we straddle the threshold between both.

  • Joined October 2018
  • Member of Ravenclaw
  • 0 House Points
  • 1st Year
  • Canada


(Go here for super indepth backstory: )
Also known as Cassandra van Helsing on my other account
Rping Rules (Stolen from Enoch, causes he's a nerd)
▹My rps are always Open unless I state otherwise :)
▹At least a paragraph (4 lines/sentences.) Aka Long responses
▹Well written + detailed responses as well
▹Take the rp somewhere, create conflict or make something happen!
▹Do not act like you know Cassandra or Victoria unless you've rped with her before/the rp calls for your character being aquatinted with her. (I will be the one to determine right away if our characters know each other, it will say so or hint at it in the starter.)
▹You should be at least my level of writing or above (maybe a little bit below but I can't handle poorly written responses so...)
▹Do not God-Mod your character, make it realistic. No crazy feats of power or strength
▹Honestly I prefer when people rp in third person, but if you decide to write in first person and actually follow the rest of these rules, then I'm fine with it
▹Make sure whatever happens is logical ( in the world of the rp of course )
▹I request that you don't try to make things romantic unless requested or asked first
▹I won't reply unless your response follows all of these
-> I will write anything from E to R,so let me know what you're comfortable with.
Name: Victoria the third, of House Frankenstein. Practitioner of magic, and Resurrecti.
Age: 19
Appearance: That, is a fickle thing for not many dare look upon a Resurrecti. For those who do see little but the ashen pale shade to my skin. The dark charcoal brown of my hair as it makes its way down to my knees. Perhaps it is my eyes that frighten them, the sunken sockets and under eye circles that frame eyes of pure black, as if inkwells only my iris remain the steel grey they were in life. I stand at an average height, 5'7" and while I have grown the curves of maturity my frame tends to lean to the more skeletal side. Dotted across my back are fresh stitches, wounds I sustained at my death that refuse to heal. I dress in black or grey most often, blending myself away. The most notable thing would be the blindfold of black that covers my eyes.
Personality:I am first and foremost, a witch. I yearn to learn the hidden secrets of the world and all it has to offer. I struggle to get along with people out of fear of the witch trials happening all over again. I am known for my painting and my love of big words. I am similar to a closeted 'nerd' as some would say. Though, sometimes I come off as stifled but that is merely from my status.
History: Prepare for this for it is long. I was born in the year 1797, one year after when my mother Elizabeth gave birth to my brother, named after her dear deceased friend, Henry and then later myself before her untimely death by the creature in August. My father, whom she named me after was Victor Frankenstein. A brilliant necromancer and scientist. One I hope to follow the footsteps of. Of course, with my father vanishing suddenly after my birth and my grandfather dying of shock, Henry and I were raised by our great-aunt in the very manor of my grandfather's demise. My childhood was neither a joyful nor painful, all that mattered was that I had my brother Henry. We grew up together, and at age 11 we received our invitations to Hogwarts seperatly and began our attendance.
It was during the summer of my fifteenth year that we discovered our father's work in necromancy: the forbidden art. Both of us being of curious mind and greedy heart began to study his work with a passion. Working on the minor spells of healing or draining the life of another, to resurrecting animals. Small creatures that did our tasks wordlessly with no mind of their own. We were sneaky, quiet, the Ministry's magic watching law had yet to come into effect and no one knew of our dalliances. Our aunt suspected though, and one day she caught us in the middle of resurrecting a bear, our largest attempt yet. It was a raging fury, and while she could not destroy the books she banished them; sending them to the far corners of the Earth. Henry and I were ripe with rage and left that night. It was our father's knowledge, we had a right to it!
Four years living on our own, attending Hogwarts, working odd jobs, and experimenting to try and remember the rest of our father's work; our only tie to him. Within that time, our Aunt died and we returned to the manner, but the books were long gone. Still, the laboratory was of great use. A combination of science and magic, alchemy, and we continued our work. Though, nothing we brought back ever had a soul. Not like what my father had done so many years ago.
I died on my nineteenth birthday, 1816. A spell backfiring dangerously that sent me flying and I fell from a window and my neck snapped. I do not remember anything after that until I woke up on a steel medical table. I saw my brother, dead on the floor next to me; his eyes gone. My own eyes changed to that black of death. It had been several months since I died, but I do not remember the time in between; only flashes of it. I remembering screaming loudly, and I remember the screams of villagers as the town dragged me from my home. They saw the clouds, the elder knew the signs. I was what they call a Resurrecti, something my family had been creating for millennias. They would've burned me as a witch, but I escaped with my own magic however weak it had become.
Since then I have traveled alone, keeping myself hidden as often as I could. It was easy enough to pass as normal, and I managed to earn my doctorate at the University of Inglostadt. I spend most of my time in Germany, yet when hunters catch my trail I have to flee. It is a life on the run. However, when I have gathered all seventeen of my father's journals. I will be able to complete my goal, it is a long time in the making.
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