Fiona is a generally warm and bright girl, though she can come across a little brash, with a lingering smile that never completely vanishes. At best it simply changes tone as her mood shifts, so one moment it is inviting before it shifts to become menacing. Behind her eyes she’s sometimes a little overly calculating, as she theorises how an interaction will go and what could be done to turn it in her favour.

She’s fairly direct when she wants something though she may not always be honest about it, since she enjoys a good chase. Lying and misdirection come easily to her, especially when she’s able to nudge a person’s perception away from the truth though she prefers wordplay or sleight of hand first, resorting to her powers when no other choice presents itself. However, when dealing with people she trusts or feels close to her gift of the gab fails her almost instantly since her Grandfather drilled it into her that family comes before all else.


Fiona’s always had a love of animals of all sizes, especially with regards to horses since there was easily a few dozen around the campsites she grew up on. She’d love going for rides whenever possible even from a young age, with her helping to steer the carts round the camp.

She’s always had a great metabolism, able to scoff down enough to make her seem gluttonous at times. She knows it’s unlikely to last forever, so she’s made sure to keep up with her exercise for the eventuality and primarily to keep her fit. Another benefit is she can stomach a fair amount of alcohol for her size, and rarely suffers the after effects much to the annoyance of anyone who’s been drinking with her.

Fiona is a rather energetic person, who can usually be last to bed as well as first to rise in the morning as she’s always got a spring in her step. The impression she gives off is of someone on the verge of breaking out into dance wherever she goes, and if she’s listening to music while walking somewhere then that’s quite likely to be what she does.

Though she’s done her fair share of questionable actions over the years, and outwardly simply brushed them off she has tried to salve her conscious by balancing it with acts of kindness where possible.

The way her grandfather told it her family had been fighting against the oppressive rule of the English their entire lives. But he did so with a twinkle in his eyes since he’d always encouraged her and her siblings to spirit away a little extra coin when pickpocketing from any Bodach.

Her father, Declán and his younger brother Tristan had spent much of their early years round the edges of modern society with the rest of their family. The Reynolds clan were responsible for one of the largest traveling carnivals across the British Isles though it was often advertised as the gateway into Tír na nÓg itself. Their show was famous for its wide range of entertainment as well as it’s hidden activities; such as smuggling and underground fighting.

Hera’s interactions with the two brothers resulted in Declán piquing her interest as she watched him manipulate many of those he dealt with for the gain of himself and his family. She believed he could help raise a worthy child of her lineage, but she was also curious to see how he’d play off the child when she was dropped into his lap.

When Fiona was handed over to him she was his first-born child, though only by a month or so as in the intervening time he’d settled down with a woman he was deeply infatuated with who now carried his son. Fiona’s stepmother never fully accepted her, and even though she would go on to provide Declán with another four children he always treated Fiona as his favourite much to her chagrin. So, while Fiona was doted on and kept close with him, she was effectively used as free childcare for her siblings from the age of eight. She didn’t mind this for the most part since her siblings were her family, and even when she didn’t love them they were still hers.

Her stepmother, however was neither as far as she was concerned. While it wasn’t entirely an intentional act, when she was thirteen during a rather rebellious stage and following a series of drawn out arguments the woman made a dramatic exit. Sadly, the fallout from this event caused a great deal of friction within the already struggling carnival as well as extinguishing the warmth in her father’s eyes.

Prior to this her life had been full of joy and laughter as the carnival travelled the length and breadth of the British Isles and occasionally across the seas to the continent itself. She indulged in all manner of activities from those she should to those she shouldn’t, with her father and uncle often going back and forth over what she was allowed to do. And if one forbade her then the other would sneak her away to indulge her curiosity; which helped to hone her skills with a knife, her thirst for blood in the fighting rings or the thrill of a con or pickpocket.

After a year or two of awkward silences and strained relationships, she packed her belongings and vanished into the night. Her powers enabled her to navigate the wider world far easier than she ought to have been able to do, and she swapped from one identity to the other over several years and worked a dozen jobs and more to get buy; or if pressed she simply lured someone much more well off to foot the bill for her survival.

One day she was waiting tables in a secluded bar in the middle of San Francisco when before she even realised it she was sitting down across from an elegant woman. Their mouth was curved into a amused grin that reminded Fiona of the Cheshire cat, toying with Alice, but it was the woman’s eyes she recognised.

Her mother informed her that it was time for her to attend camp, and to weigh her against her sibling. Times were changing.