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Author Topic: Wren Coulter  (Read 356 times)

Wren Coulter

    (29/12/2012 at 05:25)
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E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

Character Name: Wren Coulter

Gender: Female

Age: Eight

Bloodline: Muggleborn

Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): 
Parents up and disappeared one night, luckily some strange fella named Jabari Razi showed interest in her upbringing.

Knockturn Alley Flat of Jabari Razi.

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Elizabeth Woods-Taylor (Hogwarts)
Michael Woods-Taylor (Elsewhere)
Loring Reinhardt (Salem)
Quincy Stanhope (Elsewhere)
Charles Astor (BB)

Biography: (100 words minimum.)
Barefoot she sped across that field of dirt relishing in the dust that kicked up around her legs and the sand that she could feel grinding between her toes. Those boys would see, once and for all, who was fastest… her. Not a little boy who crowed about being king of this or that, not the little girls who cried foul play if their hair was pulled or dress yanked on. She was fastest, without any gimmick, and youngest of them all. Little Wren.

Just like the quick witted songbird, Wren had much to prove and even more to sing about. Not that Wren was her Christian name, she as much as forgot what her real name had been, along with so many other things.

Her parents had called her Wren for as long as she could remember though. It started as merely a nickname and only Mary, or Andrea or some other silly simple name would she be addressed when she had been bad. But Wren was a good name, she liked it, and so she had not given any other when the adults finally cornered her and demanded a label. Besides, it wasn’t as if they would catch her in the lie, because she belonged to no one, and no one would correct her.

To be honest, Wren wasn’t surprised that her parents had disappeared with the other little ones, her sisters and her brothers, because neither her momma nor pop seemed to need her around. What little she could recollect of her Momma was that she always had the little ‘uns to care for and her pop was off workin’ in the city. She was the eldest and could see to attending school on her own, fixing lunch on her own and making her way home on her own.

Still, when Wren woke to find herself in a hovel, dust and debris keeping her company rather than her younger brother, for they shared a bed, she did find herself scared. They left her. Or, they dropped her off somewhere and then left her? Funny thing too, because as much as her parents didn’t seem to need her, didn’t seem to care if she was in the house or gone, didn’t seem to pay her no mind, Wren didn’t once think they might wish to leave her behind.

And yet they had.

Those first few weeks had passed in a blur as Wren sought shelter with families she did not know. Pop had always said that she could take care of herself, and momma never argued, maybe this was a test.

A very strange test.

The strangeness of it all had seeped into her mind slowly as she found her place in the world. Little things kept nagging at her mind, like street names and buildings. They were all too familiar and yet very different from those in her memory. She was still home, or close to it, but nothing seemed familiar anymore.

Accept the children. Nothing changed with children. Soon Wren found herself running with other street kids, dodging capture and proving her place in a world of young hoodlums. With the memory of her parents and siblings quickly subsiding, Wren held fast to her new life. Even when she was caught, even as they shipped her to the nearest orphanage, Wren tenaciously grabbed at her life. She was a fighter and would make this world work for her.

Reply as your character to the following:

Godric Park.

Overhead, the sky was a crisp blue, for once clear of the ever-pervasive spongy clouds and rain. The sun was a lemony-yellow presence, high in the Eastern sky, and in front of it zipped three broomsticks in a straight line, or something very like one. One... two..... three... the boys passed, their shouts of excitement echoing as they chased the snitch, a tiny shimmer reflecting the sunlight.

Far below was another, much smaller broomstick.

It trugged along the ground, hugging close to it like a sluggish choo choo train and occasionally shuttering in protest. This was because said stick was currently being occupied by a very small girl who was tugging upward on the front of it with all her might, trying to coax it into doing what it had been expressly designed NOT to do.

"John, I said wait up!" The tiny girl squealed, giving the broomstick another tug.

Begrudgingly, it drifted upward a foot, and then sank, depositing the troublesome girl safely on the ground. Janey Hurst was not pleased. In a huff, she hopped off the toy safety broom, grabbing it firmly and thrusting it handle first into the turf.

Her brother was such a beast. He NEVER let her play! She folded her arms, seething blue eyes fixing on another figure nearby.  "You!" She barked, much more sharply than she meant to.

"...Do you want to play?"

Roleplay Response:
If asked where Wren saw herself in a few months’ time, she would have replied ‘anywhere!’ but in all honesty, across the ocean was not included. Her mind was still processing this turn of events; her new guardian, her new home, her supposed special abilities, her new friends, because that was what all those other kids were supposed to be, right? Friends.

Maybe siblings… Wren wasn’t sure, all she knew was that someone wanted her and that was good enough. Not that she needed anyone mind you.

Wren and the other children had been allowed time to play, and she deciding on exploring the park. Again, Wren was only just making sense of everything not least of which was the magic thing. The eight year old was curious and terribly intrigued. Magic might have scared her siblings (she did have siblings at one point, didn’t she?) but it didn’t scare her. It seemed only fitting that the world had something special about it, and that there was something special about her.

The little girl found herself staring up at three boys on - yep those were broomsticks - flying like bullets through the air, and was caught off guard by the voice behind her.

It was another little girl, angered, by the looks of it, demanding the attention she was not getting from her elders.

Thin streaks of auburn hair brushed past her cheeks as she began to smile. “I want to race, can you run?” Wren was an unimpressive looking girl, much like her namesake she was plain and simple, hair falling around her shoulders in disarray, simple gray eyes that were supposed to be hazel. There was a twinkle in them as she proposed a race.

“I know other games, if you don’t want to race me.” She offered as most boys had expressed to her, challengingly.

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G.W. Oswald

    (29/12/2012 at 21:37)
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