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Author Topic: John-Patrick O'Broin  (Read 872 times)

John Patrick OBroin

    (01/07/2015 at 19:16)
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  • Elsewhere Child
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E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: John-Patrick O’Broin

Gender: Male

Age: 11

Bloodline: Halfblood

Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?):
Alanna O’Broin (NPC)

Residence:
Hogsmeade

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?
No

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
None Active

Biography: (100 words minimum.)
John-Patrick was born in Ireland to Alanna and Douglas O’Broin. Alanna was a witch whose main love was herbology. She fell in love with Douglas, a muggle farmer, shortly after graduating from Hogwarts. Douglas was a hard-working, family-oriented man. With him, Alanna grew to love hard work as well. For the most part, she stopped using magic, not because she couldn’t but because she and Douglas both found it more rewarding to work with their hands. Alanna kept the gardens, and Douglas kept the animals, and they both kept the children.

John-Patrick was the fifth-born of the seven O’Broin children. Like all of his siblings, John-Patrick was raised to appreciate hard work and perseverance. He was taught that family mattered above everything else, and that his number one goal was to ensure the happiness of the family and the healthiness of the farm.

John-Patrick was four years old when the time warp happened. The warp itself is the only thing that he remembers from that time. He remembers it because his parents were fighting with one of his siblings. Fights in the O’Broin household were rare in those days, and John-Patrick remembers feeling frightened at the raised voices. His older sister, Clarissa, had just received her Hogwarts letter, and she was mad because her parents had said they didn’t want her to go. They’d said the same thing two years prior when their eldest, Douglas Jr, had received his letter, but Douglas hadn’t fought them on it: He’d liked being a farmer’s boy, and had been just as happy not to go to some preppy private school. But Clarissa was fighting it--shouting, red-faced, waving the letter in the air.

John-Patrick remembers that. And then he remembers everything disappearing--his dad, and the farm, and everything. His siblings who were upstairs seemed to fall from the sky. His sister Moira-Naye was nine: She broke both legs when she fell. He remembers her crying, and his mom trying to heal her and swearing like his father on tax day because she couldn’t remember the right spells.

The O’Broin family, what was left of it, was in a field in the middle-of-nowhere, Ireland. And so they walked. John-Patrick’s mother carried his baby brother Daniel, and Douglas Jr carried Moira, and John-Patrick’s mother made the littlies hold hands. He remembers that: Remembers walking, holding his big brother Christopher’s hand on one side and little Anna-Fenelle’s hand on the other. He remembers the biting cold of winter as they walked, and the way that Moira-Naye clutched at Doug’s shirt and bit her lip and tried not to cry. He remembers his mother telling them to sing when they got cold, and he remembers Clarissa still clutching her Hogwarts letter in her hand as they walked.

They didn’t die.

Several hours of walking in the dark and cold found them on the outskirts of a muggle town. They took Moira-Naye to the hospital, and they set her legs but told the family she’d never walk right again. They took a bus to London, because their mum still couldn’t believe everyone was gone--because they’d had grandparents there, once upon a time, and she thought their grandparents might take them in. Only the grandparents were on their father’s side, and they hadn’t survived the warp any more than he had. And there was no farm to go back to, and no money, and they were hungry. Their mom took a job at an apothecary in Diagon Alley, and she told Douglas, Jr and Clarissa that they’d both be going to Hogwarts next year, only now neither of them wanted to go.

John-Patrick grew up in a two-bedroom flat in Upper London. His mom worked a lot, and couldn’t afford a sitter or daycare. The O’Broin siblings raised each other the best they could when she was working. The O’Broins learned to cook at early ages, and they grew vegetables and herbs in planters all over the apartment. They made up stories to tell each other, and played games. When school started in the fall, neither Douglas, Jr nor Clarissa wound up going. They said that they didn’t want to, but the truth was that they were needed too much at home. They were home-schooled instead. Their mother used what little extra money she had to buy books on magical theory, and on her days off she’d try to help them practice practical magic.

John-Patrick was too young to really understand the political changes that were happening in the world. When his mother sewed H’s into all the clothes their families had, John-Patrick didn’t care. None of it became real until last year when Douglass, Jr and Clarissa were both killed. They took part in a small, silent protest, walking outside openly without their H’s on their chests. Moira-Naye was with them, as well as a few of their friends. John-Patrick isn’t sure what they were trying to accomplish, but it went very wrong. Douglass, Jr and Clarissa were both killed--accidentally, according to reports--and Moira-Naye was taken into ministry custody.

Fearful that the rest of the family would be observed more closely because of it, when John-Patrick’s Hogwarts letter came in she told him that he would absolutely be going--and his older brother Christopher would be going as well. She had a little more money in the bank now, and would have fewer mouths to feed, and intended to enroll his youngest siblings, Anna-Fenelle and Daniel, in daycare. She wanted the rest of the family to be seen, publically, to be cooperating. She didn’t want to lose and more children.

In the months since the incident, John-Patrick has become a reserved, somewhat angry young boy. He has begun answering to JP, wanting to shed the “farm-boy” name that he thinks makes him look weak. The last thing JP wants is to look weak to anybody. He has started reading the books that his mother used to buy for his older siblings--the books on magic. He no longer cares about raising the plants around the house, having decided that it’s weak magic. Soft.

When he isn’t studying magic, John-Patrick is working out. He runs twice a day. He has become closed off, even to his family, and though he still loves his younger siblings, he no longer cuddles them close to tell them stories. For the most part, JP tries to be one his own. He doesn’t want to be around other people. When he thinks of his older siblings, he’s filled with anger that he doesn’t know how to handle. He’s not even sure what he wants to do with that anger--whether he’s out for revenge, or whether he just wants to make sure that what happened to them doesn’t happen to him. All he knows is that he refuses to be weak for a second longer.

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:
Beneath his t-shirt and shorts, JP was sweating. He could feel his shirt clutching to his back, and he tugged on the hem, trying to coax the fabric away from his dampened skin. He glanced upwards, squinting through the sunlight to see three kids shoot past on broomsticks. JP sighed, pushing his sopping-wet fringe out of his eyes. He’d never been on a broomstick himself. His mum couldn’t afford one. Not that it mattered or anything; JP had plenty to do on his own, and he couldn’t imagine brooms could be particularly comfortable.

A voice shouted towards him. JP turned, shoving his hands into his back pockets automatically. When she asked him if he wanted to play, he swallowed, staring at a patch of dirt. He could feel the stitching around the letter H on his chest, seeming to burn into him--branding him. The sweat was still on his skin, starting to cool now but continuing to make his face and neck burn.

“Naw,” JP said, shrugging. “I got stuff to do. Sorry.”

He turned away from her. He told himself that it was true--he did have other stuff to do, better stuff than playing baby games with some kid. But knowing that didn’t stop the niggling sense of guilt that he felt in the pit of his stomach--the same little ball of guilt he got every time Anna-Fenelle asked him to read her a story or Daniel asked him to play marbles. But it was whatever. They were just kids. One day, they’d all have to grow up, too, and then they’d understand.


OTHER
How did you find us? Other


Kelsey Cadwallader

    (03/07/2015 at 02:53)
HELLO and Welcome back!

Your application is looking stellar, but before we can get you accepted I have just a minor suggestion for your RP sample. While a refusal of play is acceptable, the sample is awfully final. It leaves no room for a response, and you know how we like to keep things going. If you could just make a teensy adjustment to open it up, we can review the application again!

Have a nice day!

John Patrick OBroin

    (03/07/2015 at 04:59)
  • *
  • Elsewhere Child
    • View Profile
E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: John-Patrick O’Broin

Gender: Male

Age: 11

Bloodline: Halfblood

Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?):
Alanna O’Broin (NPC)

Residence:
Hogsmeade

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?
No

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
None Active

Biography: (100 words minimum.)
John-Patrick was born in Ireland to Alanna and Douglas O’Broin. Alanna was a witch whose main love was herbology. She fell in love with Douglas, a muggle farmer, shortly after graduating from Hogwarts. Douglas was a hard-working, family-oriented man. With him, Alanna grew to love hard work as well. For the most part, she stopped using magic, not because she couldn’t but because she and Douglas both found it more rewarding to work with their hands. Alanna kept the gardens, and Douglas kept the animals, and they both kept the children.

John-Patrick was the fifth-born of the seven O’Broin children. Like all of his siblings, John-Patrick was raised to appreciate hard work and perseverance. He was taught that family mattered above everything else, and that his number one goal was to ensure the happiness of the family and the healthiness of the farm.

John-Patrick was four years old when the time warp happened. The warp itself is the only thing that he remembers from that time. He remembers it because his parents were fighting with one of his siblings. Fights in the O’Broin household were rare in those days, and John-Patrick remembers feeling frightened at the raised voices. His older sister, Clarissa, had just received her Hogwarts letter, and she was mad because her parents had said they didn’t want her to go. They’d said the same thing two years prior when their eldest, Douglas Jr, had received his letter, but Douglas hadn’t fought them on it: He’d liked being a farmer’s boy, and had been just as happy not to go to some preppy private school. But Clarissa was fighting it--shouting, red-faced, waving the letter in the air.

John-Patrick remembers that. And then he remembers everything disappearing--his dad, and the farm, and everything. His siblings who were upstairs seemed to fall from the sky. His sister Moira-Naye was nine: She broke both legs when she fell. He remembers her crying, and his mom trying to heal her and swearing like his father on tax day because she couldn’t remember the right spells.

The O’Broin family, what was left of it, was in a field in the middle-of-nowhere, Ireland. And so they walked. John-Patrick’s mother carried his baby brother Daniel, and Douglas Jr carried Moira, and John-Patrick’s mother made the littlies hold hands. He remembers that: Remembers walking, holding his big brother Christopher’s hand on one side and little Anna-Fenelle’s hand on the other. He remembers the biting cold of winter as they walked, and the way that Moira-Naye clutched at Doug’s shirt and bit her lip and tried not to cry. He remembers his mother telling them to sing when they got cold, and he remembers Clarissa still clutching her Hogwarts letter in her hand as they walked.

They didn’t die.

Several hours of walking in the dark and cold found them on the outskirts of a muggle town. They took Moira-Naye to the hospital, and they set her legs but told the family she’d never walk right again. They took a bus to London, because their mum still couldn’t believe everyone was gone--because they’d had grandparents there, once upon a time, and she thought their grandparents might take them in. Only the grandparents were on their father’s side, and they hadn’t survived the warp any more than he had. And there was no farm to go back to, and no money, and they were hungry. Their mom took a job at an apothecary in Diagon Alley, and she told Douglas, Jr and Clarissa that they’d both be going to Hogwarts next year, only now neither of them wanted to go.

John-Patrick grew up in a two-bedroom flat in Upper London. His mom worked a lot, and couldn’t afford a sitter or daycare. The O’Broin siblings raised each other the best they could when she was working. The O’Broins learned to cook at early ages, and they grew vegetables and herbs in planters all over the apartment. They made up stories to tell each other, and played games. When school started in the fall, neither Douglas, Jr nor Clarissa wound up going. They said that they didn’t want to, but the truth was that they were needed too much at home. They were home-schooled instead. Their mother used what little extra money she had to buy books on magical theory, and on her days off she’d try to help them practice practical magic.

John-Patrick was too young to really understand the political changes that were happening in the world. When his mother sewed H’s into all the clothes their families had, John-Patrick didn’t care. None of it became real until last year when Douglass, Jr and Clarissa were both killed. They took part in a small, silent protest, walking outside openly without their H’s on their chests. Moira-Naye was with them, as well as a few of their friends. John-Patrick isn’t sure what they were trying to accomplish, but it went very wrong. Douglass, Jr and Clarissa were both killed--accidentally, according to reports--and Moira-Naye was taken into ministry custody.

Fearful that the rest of the family would be observed more closely because of it, when John-Patrick’s Hogwarts letter came in she told him that he would absolutely be going--and his older brother Christopher would be going as well. She had a little more money in the bank now, and would have fewer mouths to feed, and intended to enroll his youngest siblings, Anna-Fenelle and Daniel, in daycare. She wanted the rest of the family to be seen, publically, to be cooperating. She didn’t want to lose and more children.

In the months since the incident, John-Patrick has become a reserved, somewhat angry young boy. He has begun answering to JP, wanting to shed the “farm-boy” name that he thinks makes him look weak. The last thing JP wants is to look weak to anybody. He has started reading the books that his mother used to buy for his older siblings--the books on magic. He no longer cares about raising the plants around the house, having decided that it’s weak magic. Soft.

When he isn’t studying magic, John-Patrick is working out. He runs twice a day. He has become closed off, even to his family, and though he still loves his younger siblings, he no longer cuddles them close to tell them stories. For the most part, JP tries to be one his own. He doesn’t want to be around other people. When he thinks of his older siblings, he’s filled with anger that he doesn’t know how to handle. He’s not even sure what he wants to do with that anger--whether he’s out for revenge, or whether he just wants to make sure that what happened to them doesn’t happen to him. All he knows is that he refuses to be weak for a second longer.

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:
JP was sweating. He could feel his shirt clutching to his back, and he tugged on the hem, trying to coax the fabric away from his dampened skin. Most of the time the clothes barely touched him--they were Christopher's cast-offs, passed down to JP shortly after Douglas Jr passed away. After this morning's run, however, they seemed far too small.

He glanced upwards, squinting through the sunlight to see three kids shoot past on broomsticks. JP sighed, pushing his sopping-wet fringe out of his eyes. He’d never been on a broomstick himself. His mum couldn’t afford one. Not that it mattered or anything; JP had plenty to do on his own, and he couldn’t imagine brooms could be particularly comfortable.

A voice shouted towards him. JP turned, shoving his hands into his back pockets automatically. When she asked him if he wanted to play, he swallowed, staring at a patch of dirt. He could feel the stitching around the letter H on his chest, seeming to burn into him--branding him. The sweat was still on his skin, starting to cool now but continuing to make his face and neck burn.

“Naw,” JP said, shrugging. “I got stuff to do. Sorry.”

He turned away from her. He told himself that it was true--he did have other stuff to do, better stuff than playing baby games with some kid. But knowing that didn’t stop the niggling sense of guilt that he felt in the pit of his stomach--the same little ball of guilt he got every time Anna-Fenelle asked him to read her a story or Daniel asked him to play marbles.

He turned back around, dragging a hand through his hair. It wasn't his job to play with  her, dang it. Her own siblings should be taking care of her, just as it was his job to take care of his siblings. Still, she didn't have anyone...

"I'm in the middle of a run," JP said, shrugging in mock-apology. "You're welcome to come with, if you really want..."

It was enough to assuage his guilt, but that didn't mean he wanted her along. He rather hoped that she'd ignore him: Then he could do his own thing without feeling bad about it.


OTHER
How did you find us? Other

Kelsey Cadwallader

    (03/07/2015 at 21:31)

Dear John-Patrick O'Broin,

Congratulations, your application has been accepted!

Your admission is to our Elsewhere boards, where our adult and child characters explore the many places we have to offer, including Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. We hope you have a great time!


     Kelsey Cadwallader




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