delphinebeauvais

[delphinebeauvais]

@alina-hennigar​

Alina rolled her eyes as a smile began to make its way to her lips, very much aware that Delphine was only teasing. “It is! I went to M&A Tailors last week to have some new skirts done- I’ve ruined plenty. And I’m not even sure when that stain appeared” she said as she inspected it more closely, though she didn’t bother to do a thing to remove it. The samodiva was very much a creature of the outdoors, even if several of her daily activities required for her to be indoors. Perhaps that was why she moved about gardens, parks, forest and marshes as fast as her legs would carry her whenever she was freed from her responsibilities at home and at work. An eyebrow rose as the banshee inspected… the air around her, Alina supposed. Playfully done or not, the samodiva always felt a tiny bit of apprehension when her friend did that.  Oh no, were there spirits of misfortune lurking around her? She smiled a little as Delphine got her tarot deck and brushed her hands against her skirt just in case there was some dirt on them. Green eyes settled on the deck and she began to split them, looking up at her friend as she did so. There was no right or wrong way to do this, she knew, and it wasn’t like Delphine would give any hints to cheat a little and get a good fortune. “There” she said as she finished doing as she’d been told and put the three piles back together.

-

“Well, you are rather prone to adventuring, hm? So I would guess that it appeared then.” Delphine frowns at the stain in question, then nods with a diagnostic nature. “Corn starch and water was what my maman would use. It is what I would advise.” She reports clinically, as not to linger too long on thoughts of her mother. The cards are a familiar and welcome distraction, and Delphine wears the faint essence of a smile as Alina cuts the deck, still looking skittish. “The spirits will not reach out and grab you, I promise,” she laughs, then reaches out to the reorganized pile. The top three cards are spread into a line and Delphine flips the first with perhaps too much theatricality. It’s a common accusation. “Ah.” A moment of thought, and she nods. “This first card, it is meant to symbolize your past. This card is The World – but it is reversed, you see? That changes its meaning. This way... hm.” After some thought, she nods. “Turned in this way, it means that your past left some things... unclosed. Some issues unresolved.” Dark eyes look up and a brow raises. “Does this surprise you?” And then, remembering her common courtesy after a beat, Delphine adds: “Should I go on? The present is next.”

[delphinebeauvais]

@dinameijer​

Exasperation hits her the moment the woman speaks, and she has to bite her tongue to keep a snappy retort out. It’s silly of her to think it’s safe to mouth off to people in town, and the reminder of Katinka keeps her from doing more than sigh. “There are plenty of people walking this route than me. You included,” she points out, and she’s a little relieved to see it’s the woman’s heaving bag knocking into her rather than anything… more malicious. Dina grimaces. “Apologies, then,” she says, stiffly, trying to call upon the manners of her youth. Good enough, and Dina settles for the next obvious question, managing to find an equal amount of amusement and curiosity. “What on earth is in it? If I could bruise, it would have left one.” Dina rocks the stroller with her foot carefully, returning the woman’s raised brow with one of her own, until she hears the woman question. Her brows furrow, silently mouthing the words over in her head. No one else has corrected her. “I… think they call it beekeeper here? It is imker in my homeland,” she admits. “I’m a florist, they are useful in keeping the flowers alive, and their honey is well-liked even by those who live in Zora.” Someday, she’ll count herself among them, even if she still feels other. Like she’s still a healer traveling around the world with a daughter in tow rather than a local member of the community. She lets out a surprised laugh. “Right this moment? I will leave them be, I have no supplies for digging up a hive and my daughter is sleeping. Tomorrow, perhaps, I will come back, but I assume they will be gone by then.” She’s hardly the only person who can find a use for bees, but mostly she thinks someone will step on the hive and unleash the horde. Dina tilts her head. “How do your readings work? I am not familiar with the concept, I only know… there are cards involved and someone talented at reading them. You are a witch then?” It seems like a witch thing to do.

- 

An apology wasn’t expected, really, so it earns a shrug from Delphine. Not a grudge worth holding, it seems. At mention of the bag, her brows lift, a genuine smile appearing. “Oh! All sorts of things, bien sur. You may have heard of me – the Oracle Delphine?” Doesn’t seem to ring a bell. Or if it does, it’s an imperceptible one. Shame. “No? Well, as it is, I am a psychic of sorts. I only do my readings after the sun has set, so I am not headed to my business just yet. I was thinking of taking some time out in the sun to refine my skills, maybe. There are some things in the bag to help.” She could admit that most of what she relies on is the spirits who divulge information – sometimes in whispers, but after nightfall, in shouts. “Are you keen on it? The psychic art, I mean.” Not everyone is, but occasionally, she will come face to face with a firm believer. Those are her favorites. “Imker. Interesting. English is not my first language, either... Dutch is yours, I am guessing?” Traveling has taught her some things for certain. Though she may not be especially proficient in languages beyond her faithful duo, she is a good deal better at identifying a foreign tongue than she was in her youth. The mention of flowers piques her interest, and Delphine’s smile returns. “A florist! Oh, you must always be creating then, no? I understand the necessity for the bees now.” Delphine laughs, her previous ridicule vanished. Her head tilts toward the still sleeping baby at her mention, but brown eyes quickly flick back to her company. “Ah, well, there are many ways to go about a reading...” Here comes the well practiced speech. “It is not a precise science, tu sais, but there are many opportunities. The tarot cards depend upon your selection. There is tea drinking, as well, though I confess that I lack those supplies. And then...” A somewhat more meek smile unfolds. “No, I am not a witch. A banshee, in fact. Which means that I, personally, rely on the spirits to tell me the finer details.” Quickly, though, she comes to the defense: “The tarot cards are not useless, though! I like to think I am skilled at reading them.”

[delphinebeauvais]

@yohan-ernest​

Yohan looks back at the woman, giving her a confused look. He doesn’t understand why she is laughing, or apologizing. If he has learned anything since he left the hunters, it’s that people laugh at virtually anything. “…yeah, I’m alright.” He replies, placing the basket on the floor. “Don’t thank me. It’s from the inn.” Yohan points out, his eyes trailing off to study the room. He doesn’t understand much about decorating, so he just notes that there are many things in this room he has never seen before. He stares back at her, tilting his head to the side. “I don’t know how to read but I saw it was painted, yeah.” He says. He honestly has no clue what this ‘reading’ would involve, so he just nods along. If he did get a reading before and doesn’t remember, it probably isn’t that important. “Okay” He purses his lips a little at ‘only if you want’. Want is not a verb he uses often. “I don’t mind” is the best he can do, and he just waits for whatever that is she is about to do. “I didn’t know that, no. I’ve never had a tea.” He gives a nonchalant shrug before asking, “so that’s what ‘reading’ means? Reading signs?” 

-

He looks... perplexed. She would have expected more outrage than confusion, really, considering her laughter, but Delphine will take it. All’s well that ends well, anyway, and the incident is quickly forgotten when the origin of the gifts is divulged. “Oh! Delightful. My bon ami Charlie,” she croons, knowing full well the eye roll that the loathed nickname would receive if the name bearer was here. He isn’t, though, so it’s this fellow who she searches for a reaction from. And gets nothing. Intriguing man... He earns a tut of sympathy, anyway, at mentioning not knowing how to read. He isn’t the first she’s known to lack literacy, certainly, but still, she pities him. Not that she’s one to coddle. “I see. You liked the sign though, yes? I thought that the bit of shimmer to the paint was a nice touch.” Delphine practically beams, the smile growing larger at his agreement, no matter how lukewarm. “Oh, perfect! Well – hm. You do not mind my asking, I hope, but... are you one of the dead? If so, the tea evidently will not work, as you will not be drinking it... the cards, maybe? Or, well...” She could always just cut the act and appoint her only real bit of mediumship. The choice seems to point more in that direction thanks to his question, which makes Delphine sigh softly, draping herself across her chair. “Well, yes, in part. You see, I am one of the banshees, so... in truth, I mainly communicate with the spirits. The cards and the teas, they do sometimes help, but it is the spirits that surround a person that tell me most.” Her head tilts as she looks at her company closely. “Yours are not especially easy to read, I will admit, which happens often with the... already dead.”

[delphinebeauvais]

@loganscoutures​

Logan had only been back in Zora for about a month now, but he was honestly startled at how much like home it felt even in a new location (even in America). A state of constant hyper vigilance had been over him since arriving back on American soil, something that made him nearly regret coming at all no matter how much he liked being in Zora. America had hardly done good things for the Coutures, killing two out of three and leaving the third young without a home or parents. Europe had been much better to him, not that he had found himself that many connections or homes in the hard reality of it.He was too difficult, too much of a wanderer.

“Mm, I’m alright, thank you, Delphine,” he told his old friend, offering a small smile. “I don’t need a reading, just looking to take shelter from the full moon. And I, really, had nothing else to do.” He offered up something more like a grin and sat down in an empty chair. He could feel himself relaxing in her company, put to ease by the familiar friendship between them. “It’s odd, being back here. Especially given the new, American setting.” His nose wrinkled with the word American.

“Logan! It is unlike you to rob me of a reading.” The banshee scolds her old friend and business partner, but it is hardly malicious. Just... a bit snubbed, perhaps. “Oh, but it would be fun! Everyone will arrive and we will be gazing into the cards together...” It isn’t selling. That much becomes clear to Delphine, who sighs, suddenly reminded about her responsibilities at the thought of company. She rises as Logan sits, flitting about the room to put things together as they chat. “American, yes, that is for certain,” the woman sighs, mirroring the nose wrinkle. “It is nice, I admit. The quiet, I mean. Compared to France when I last saw it, well...” Not one to conjure up those memories with haste, she shrugs, stooping to take out a tin of sweets. “This is much more peaceful. Even if their voices are so... grating, hm? Though you do not sound much different.” She grins challengingly, remembering her friends roots. “And how are you since returning, mon ami? Happy, yes? There is much to do here. Lots of night life. Plenty of trouble to start.”

[delphinebeauvais]

@charleskian​

His French is rusty, something he hasn’t used much over the last few years. Only around Delphine, it seems. It isn’t his preferred form of communication and he only ever seems to use it around Delphine, but Charles recognizes a curse when he comes across one. “Only me,” he intones, letting the beads fall into place. “You always say the nicest things about people, Delphine. Makes the heart real warm.” Full moon celebrations? Perhaps, he’s always thought it more a duty than something fun, but Charles know little about the banshee rituals. He shrugs, moving to take the seat across from her. “I err on the side of caution, I need to be out of here well and back in Montmorency Park before the sunsets. I can’t so easily hide what happens to me.” Charles gestures to his back, referencing his absent wings whose nightly appearance would be something of a relief and a headache in one. “I wanted to know whether I should expect any surprise tonight.” Oddities Inn is a hot spot for activity on full moons and Charles rubs his forehead, trying to determine how empty the rooms were tonight. No humans, hopefully. His brow raises with evident disbelief. “A reading? I think the last one was… interesting enough.” He didn’t have a strong enough, but equally polite phrase for how the last reading had gone when she did it. The smirk on her face often meant nothing good for him, and he was rightfully wary of it, but despite their somewhat bickering nature, Charles values her opinion too much to argue. With a resigned sigh, he rises from his seat and gestures for her to lead the way. “You would have me helping regardless, so we better start unless you plan on hiding me here tonight. I am sure it will send the gossip mill of yours running.” He might not put much stock in rumors, but Charles hears things.

“What?! I am most generous with my compliments to you, monsieur,” the banshee scoff, though her scandalized act turns into a laugh. “Only you, for shame. You do not let me have any fun.” In other words, he isn’t often keen on having her latest reading methods tested on him. For shame indeed. “Charlie, Charlie, Charlie. You will not let the people see those glorious wings?” Delphine gives a tut before a shake of her head, though she gives a delighted gasp afterward. “You mean you want me to look into your future?!” Then realization dawns and the giddy expression fades some. “Oh. Do you mean surprises for you, and thus I must call upon the spirits...” There goes that mystic voice again. An eyebrow waggle too, for full effect. “Or do you mean surprises from me? I have no scandals planned, unfortunately. Though I imagine I could think of something with haste... some wailing would do, no?” It would also horrify and possibly deafen some of the more mortal residents of New Orleans. Best not to tread that ground. The mention of interesting readings brings her back from troublemaking fantasies, and Delphine sighs. “I only lied to you for a few days. A week. Do you intend to hold that over me forever?” There is, in fact, an agenda to attend to, though, and so Delphine rises with a clap of gloved hands. 

“Yes, yes! Many arrangements to be made – I worked too late into the evening.” Removing her gloves gives her a moment to grin. “It would certainly give them material.” Then, with a look of faux scandal: “Should I ruffle my hair a bit? Just to really lead them to talking?” The expression vanishes as she laughs. “No, no. No time for that. There are biscuits within the side board there – no, within the – yes, just there. A tray, too. Silver. Oh, do not look at me like that. You are just envious that your samodiva party cannot be as decadent as ours.” With a swish of sparkle, Delphine vanishes into the back room for a bit, getting water boiling in a kettle. She returns to the front to draw the fine china out, ridding it of invisible dust as she goes. “I am realizing, Charlie,” he despises the nickname. She knows this. “I do not know much about your samodiva rituals. What is it that you do, besides dancing beneath the moon?”

[delphinebeauvais]

@yohan-ernest​

Yohan stares at the beads in strings– what are they called?– unsure of the purpose they serve. Are they supposed to be a door? But there is no knob, no lock, no solid wall to stop people from walking in. He reaches out his hand, gently swatting at the beads and causes them to rattle. He stares at them some more with the detached curiosity of a cat, like when they push a glass off the edge of the table just to see if the gravity is still working. Humming to himself as he decides that he has lost interest, he braves through the unknowable beaded invention, only to be assaulted by them as they get tangled on his lanky limbs. He struggles his way out, shoots a look of betrayal and distrust at the beads. Now he understands– the beads are there to trap intruders. 

It takes him a few seconds to understand what is said to him, too much information at once. This world is way too fast for him, and he is still trying to catch up…  “I’m just here to drop these off.” He speaks slowly, lifting the basket of snacks and some fruits from the inn. After a second or two, he forces himself to smile, just like he practiced. He often forgets that he needs to show his good will somehow– apparently people use facial expressions most of the time. “I’ve never gotten a reading before.” He says, placing the basket down on the floor. “I can help with the tea, though.”

Now this is an interesting one. If his general energy wasn’t enough to tilt her head, his batting at the doorframe would be, and so Delphine’s head is fully cocked by the time the man begins his true charade. “I apologize, I do not mean to laugh,” Delphine only manages by the time the unfamiliar fellow extracts himself from the beads. But that’s precisely what she’s doing: laughing, with gusto. Finally, she catches her breath enough to exhale. “You are alright, I hope?” The sight of the basket makes her grimace. “Ah.” How ungrateful, to have a field day laughing at this man who came bearing gifs. She brushes it off. “Fantastic! Wonderful. Thank you, Mr...” And now she’s forgotten his name. If she knew it at all... no way to be sure, really. “I am Delphine, though I imagine you gathered that from the sign outside. Do you like the sign? I painted it myself.” Over many hours and with perhaps too many paints that shined, but it is nothing if not eye catching. “Oh! Never?” It isn’t as if she’s never encountered an unread subject, but they do tend to pique her interest. “Would you like me to be your first?” The innuendo isn’t missed, but Delphine simply grins before leaning back in her chair, giving an evaluative look at this apparent first-timer and trying to get a read on the spirits that surround him. Perhaps the moon isn’t high enough just yet... she’ll bide her time. “Only if you want, of course.” The mention of the tea brings her back to more pressing matters, and Delphine nods, though it’s with a sigh. “Of course, of course. That would be fantastic – tea is one of the ways to conduct a reading, you know? The leaves, they are said to held signs that show themselves after the drinking is done. I have not done it much, but I am happy to try...” Always looking for the next customer, isn’t she? Well, where’s the fun otherwise?

[delphinebeauvais]

@dinameijer​

DATE: 01 July 1920 TIME: late afternoon PLACE: Montmorency Park

A bee nest is tucked into the crevice of a rock, something she spotted on her walk with Katinka yesterday and forgotten in light of everything else. Little over seven months in Zora, and parts of it still make her twitch with memories of another life. Still, the nest is there, one she can’t recognize from this distance. Dina stands with her stroller in the middle of the path, rocking it in place to keep Katinka asleep inside, musing whether she had the supplies in the shop to bring it home when something strikes her back. It rocks her forward, the stroller slipping out of her grip. “Hey, watch it! People are trying to walk here!” Her hand catches the handle to keep it from rolling farther, her knee planted on the ground for stability. She can’t tell if it’s their bag to hit her, swinging as it is on their shoulder, or the ball rolling across the grass into a waiting child’s hands. “There are easier ways to get my attention than throwing things or whatever you were doing, I know the bees are here.” Dina pushes up to her feet, brushing the dirt off her shins. “There’s a hive under there and I’d be displeased if someone broke it, I haven’t found many around here, so watch your step.” Her hive and collection is still in its infancy, and she doesn’t relish the idea of someone ruining another one. Her flowers could use the help as they acclimate. “I also assume you have no wish to battle bees for the fun of it?”

She was going to apologize. Really, she was, but then the woman scolds her and it’s enough to make Delphine wrinkle her nose. “If we look at the finer details, it seems that only you are walking.” The banshee challenges, nodding toward the baby carriage and the sleeping child within. It would be easy to be combative, really, but the comment takes her by surprise, enough that she laughs. Best not to take oneself too seriously. “I am not throwing things at you! It was only my bag, you see?” A shoulder lifts to allow a better view at the beaded evening bag, still swinging. Its contents aren’t much: some tarot cards. Cigarettes, matches... she doesn’t need much more to do a reading for one. She’d been hoping for a nice, idyllic setting, but alas... here they are. The so-called psychic follows the other woman’s gaze toward the apparent bee hive, and before she knows it, Delphine’s brows are raised high. Ironic – she certainly had not seen this coming. “You are... a... bee hunter?” English isn’t her first language, and most around here know as much about her, but that isn’t the issue here. Not at all. The hesitation is caused by some bafflement. After all, who tracks bees for sport? “Oh, yes, yes. It was my initial intention, but as you seem to be their loyal defender, I am having second thoughts.” Finally, a pair of brown eyes roll, and Delphine shakes her head. “No, I had no intentions of interacting with the bees today. Tonight, maybe, when I have the element of surprise. At this moment, I was simply looking for a sunny spot in which to conduct a small tarot reading – you are familiar, I assume? But your business with these bees very interesting. What do you intend to do with this hive?”

[delphinebeauvais]

@alina-hennigar​

Full moon celebrations were some of Alina’s favorites. The other samodivi had their wings out in all their splendor and the big, full moon over New Orleans gave the city an even more mystical air to it. The night sky was fascinating for the young samodiva in every way and she loved staring up at it, not only on full moons. Full moon celebrations were best if spent in the company of friends so Alina would usually head to Chez Delphine for a while, spend some time with the banshee and then head out to look up at the cosmos on her own. “Don’t sound so disappointed” the redhead mentioned with a frown as she set her cane aside and took a seat across from her friend, brushing her hands across her skirt. There was a little stain around her knee- Was it coffee? Mud? Hard to tell. “If there’s anything in my aura that’s telling you I need a reading I won’t stop you. Your visions might save me from a horrible fate” Alina said to her friend with fake worry before a smile curled her lips.

“I am painfully disappointed.” The faux frown is emphasized to a pout just for the fun of it before the would-be oracle breaks into a smile. “A joke! I am never disappointed to see you, Linie. Is that a new skirt?” Never shy, Delphine reaches forward to toy with the fabric before nodding. “I like it. Though you do have a bit of a mark, just there, you see?” She pats the knee in question before sitting up straight and crossing her legs once more, glittered ensemble shimmering in the dim light. “Hm,” the banshee murmurs with a head tilt, sincere despite the evident mockery. “No. You look just fine to me... but to be safe...” Some rustling is done under the table before Delphine pulls out a small box. “Ah! My favorite deck. Very new. I do not allow the people with dirty fingers to touch it.” She gives a wry smile before removing the tarot cards from the box. After a bit of shuffling, they are held out to Alina in a gloved hand. “Split the pile into three, if you will, and then put them back together. No hesitation – there is no trick. Just do what comes naturally.”

[delphinebeauvais]

DATE: July 1st 1920 TIME: 8:15 pm PLACE: Chez Delphine

“Oh, merde.” The beaded curtain within the doorframe does its typical tinkling. It’s meant to sound mystic, but really, it’s more like a doorbell for her convenience. Not especially convenient right now, as she scrambles to find the silk scarf she typically typically dons upon her head. (For no reason other than the aesthetics, really, but whatever makes people believe.) She’d taken it off, not really expecting business on the night of the full moon, Coming up short, Delphine mutters another curse in grumbled French before drawing herself upright in her chair and trying to project an air of mysticism despite the missing accessory. The effort is all for naught though, she realizes upon recognizing her company: a fellow Zora resident. “Ah. Just you.” Deflating some, Delphine relaxes back in her chair and raises a brow, crossing her legs. “Sunset is not for a while. You are a tad early to the full moon celebrations, no?” Suddenly, her mouth flicks into a mischievous smirk, bordering on self-satisfied. “Or have you come for a reading? No need to be shy, I certainly will not tell.” Well, she won’t tell many people. But what fun is life without a little gossip? “If you would like to be a good neighbor, you are welcome to help me lay out the tea for the full moon afterward. The back room will be crawling with banshees within the half hour and there is much to do, so it is best if we act fast if you would like a reading.”

[delphinebeauvais]

“ugh, your mind” - me to myself before doing the absolute dumbest shit imaginable

[delphinebeauvais]

Inbar Lavi photographed by Jennifer Esteban

[delphinebeauvais]

Mood: eating 10 macarons and draping myself over a chaise longue

[delphinebeauvais]

Cover the memory of your face with the mask of who you’ll become, and frighten the girl you used to be.

- Alejandra Pizarnik, Paths of the Mirror.

NAME: Delphine Beauvais BIRTHDAY: August 14th 1810 GENDER: Cisgender female SPECIES: Banshee OCCUPATION: Oracle at Chez Delphine YEAR THEY JOINED ZORA: 1832 FACECLAIM: Inbar Lavi

HISTORY

It wasn’t as if she didn’t already stand out. No, from the start, Esther Adrienne Benoit failed to fit in. Much to the chagrin of her family who were trying so desperately to assimilate to Parisian culture, their first daughter was, to put it simply, too loud, too brash, too dramatic. And then came the screaming. The latter part of Esther’s already troubled teenaged years brought on the horrible wailing, more often than not in the middle of the night, inevitably waking family and even neighbors from slumber. While most looked at this as simply a burdensome tendency and marriage prospects turned up their noses, it was Esther’s mother that looked at her with genuine horror. This was a hereditary habit, one that had driven Esther’s grandmother to madness and, eventually, into the depths of a river, never to emerge. Plagued by the shadow of death until it claimed them entirely – this was the fate of the Benoit women. And Esther was among them. But she refused it. No, in fact, she strode into what could have been certain death with little hesitation and the same recklessness that had marked her youthful years. The June Rebellion turned Paris on its head in only a few days – but that event, along with a new and valuable ally, provided Esther an escape. When the time came and the rebellion fell apart, when Esther could have easily been dead, Julian Flamel guided her out of the simple and ruined streets of human Paris and into the collective of Zora. Here, no one would look at her with those preemptively mournful eyes. Here, she could learn about who – or what – she truly was. Here, she could become someone.

And become someone she did. Esther no longer, Delphine blossomed from the ashes like a phoenix arisen. Those years on the outskirts of Paris, so close and so far from home, provided the stunted girl with an opportunity to turn these shrieks into something worthwhile. Delphine the oracle is who she became, and as the sun set, the tamable spirits arose. When they weren’t stealing the air from her lungs, she learned to communicate with these often restless specters. The young medium grew in confidence and, perhaps, in confidentiality, wanting so badly to stray away from the fearful, fragile thing she’d once been. Straying became a skill, in fact, as the aging oracle often wandered from the confines of the collective and out into the world. A woman has to make a living, doesn’t she? And a medium can provide a great deal for people in the way of answers. Answers they’re willing to pay a good deal for. People from all over the globe paid a pretty penny to be told messages from beyond, and the supposed psychic darted from place to place: freak shows, circuses, simple booths upon the street… Delphine hardly turned her nose up. And so business boomed in its own small way – that is, until war struck. The Great War tore her stability asunder, ripping screams from her lungs day and night as death plagued the world with relentless haste. In fact, it plagued France, specifically. Delphine returned to the collective seeking solace but found nothing of the sort, discovering that Zora as well as her childhood arrondissement were in nothing short of shambles. Any semblance of home was shattered.

War doesn’t haunt the world like it used to but the spirits it left behind have relentless tendencies. Delphine rarely rests in that regard, but you could hardly tell. No, she is once again the blessed psychic, providing fortunes and favors for those willing to enter Chez Delphine. Truly, she is no oracle at all. Not a divining witch, simply a woman well-versed in Tarot, capable of reading facial expressions, and privy to the whispers of the departed. She tells people what it seems they want to hear – in New Orleans, in Zora, and in general. It keeps the money coming in and it keeps them from asking questions, even as the people of the collective look at her with chagrin thanks to her public displays of magic. Is this a life, really? Maybe not. But at this rate, it’s all she can hope for. 

CONNECTIONS

Julian Flamel (NPC): the mayor of Zora and Delphine’s frequent bedfellow. Her current career pursuits don’t amuse him, but she’s hardly troubled. He’s no master of hers.

STATUS

Delphine Beauvais is taken.