Sorry about that! (I'M SO STUPID) It's fixed now, I think! <3
E L S E W H E R E C H I L D
CHARACTER INFORMATIONCharacter Name: Flynn Flanagan Morrissey
Gender: Male
Age: 15 (21 December 1937)
Bloodline:Muggleborn
Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): Birth parents unknown. Adopted by several families in Ireland, then London.
Residence: Born in Portlaoise, Ireland. Now lives in London, England.
Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?No.
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason? Non.
Please list any other characters you already have at the site:Lyra Spencer, Newton Mariner & Co.
Biography: (100 words minimum.)Perhaps his parents had meant for their child to emulate some epic Gaelic hero of olden times.
FLYNN FLANAGAN MORRISEY. The name was inscribed in hard, angular letters on a slip of parchment tucked into the infant's swaddling.
Flynn Flanagan Morrissey: loyal and steadfast, honest and valiant.
Despite what his parents' wishes might have been regarding him, he turned out to be the complete opposite.
Flynn Flanagan Morrissey: an utterly shameless boy and notorious trickster. He was brave in a foolhardy fashion and did all the wrong things in the right way.
It wasn't a surprise that he was bumped from one foster home to another, first in his homeland of Ireland and then into Britain. Resentment kept him afloat, resentment towards his parents for giving him such a weighted name to live up to all alone. He rejected his foster families for not being his own,
true kin.
In London, his new adopted (muggle) parents marveled when a tawny (and scrawny) owl delivered a letter for a...
wizarding school?
So it was that, Flynn Flanagan Morrissey became a student at Hogwarts, earning another clan for himself. Into Gryffindor, house of the brave and chivalrous, he was sorted; the Sorting Hat must have decided to ignore entirely the second part and take loosely the definition of the first.
Now in his fourth year, the boy has remained as wild as ever, but he still tries to be noble. And deep down he really is sweet.
Roleplay: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:Hogsmeade was
slightly less boring than Killarney and
a lot calmer than Dublin. (And he concluded that Scotland might have been superior to Ireland.
No, not really.)
Still, Godric Park was a nice little median between the two. It wasn't usually dull (there were always people) but still provided a bit of peace. Of all the places Flynn had ever lived in or been to, the park was one of his favourite, somewhere he could take a pause from his mischievous ploys and actually
think.
In his mind, he could be the Flynn Flanagan Morrissey he supposed his parents had wanted him to be.
"John, I said wait up!" A high-pitched voice brought the boy's brain back into reality, and his usual fearlessness faltered for a moment when an oddly deep roar emerged from the same mouth. The little girl was talking to
him, and, quite frankly, that scared him a little bit.
"...Do you want to play?"A sly grin spread across his mouth as he began to walk towards her. "Hey, we don't need broomsticks to have fun!"
Maybe the Gryffindor boy really could be something more than a prankster.
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