E L S E W H E R E C H I L D
CHARACTER INFORMATIONCharacter Name: Clara Hazel Fawe
Gender: Female
Age: Thirteen
Bloodline:Pureblood
Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): Urban and Margot Fawe, currently going through a somewhat messy divorce (NPCs)
Residence: Almost full-time with her mother and brothers, a modest house in a wizarding town up in Yorkshire. She does spend some time with her grandparents who move about the country frequently.
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:She's my first here!
Biography: (100 words minimum.)Clara is the youngest of three children. Her two older brothers, Jasper and Oliver, always tended to form their own dynamic duo with her sitting on the sidelines cheering them on. She hardly minded as she doesn’t generally strive to be the center of attention in any way. Her father Urban Fawe is descended from one of the oldest Gypsy families in England and though he was never raised within that culture, pieces of their history follow and haunt him still. Clara’s grandparents on her father’s side are an influential force in her life, especially her grandfather who has always been the most encouraging of her interest in Romani culture and divination. In contrast, her mother Margot is descended of a more traditional magical family who are not always shy about their distrust of the wandering, caravan lifestyle of Urban’s ancestors. Over the years the rift between the two families has contributed to the strain on their marriage and the year before Clara was to start school her parents finally separated.
The first thing most people notice about Clara is her hair. She is notorious for ignoring it until it becomes a massive mess of blonde curls and waves trailing down to her mid back. If you can see past that she has generally soft features; a small but broad nose and pale hazel eyes. Though she has a very expressive face it more often than not appears blank as she frequently gets lost in thought, giving her an almost vacant appearance. She lives in her head so much that it can be difficult for her to separate daydreams from reality. This has led her to a strange and erroneous conclusion that she has the talents of a Seer, and she takes every opportunity to make 'predictions'. Along with this she is a terrible listener and seems to drift in and out of conversations. Strangely, though she seems to never be paying attention, Clara picks up a lot from her surroundings. She has a tendency to retain information without knowing how it fits in with anything else. Clara holds herself small but is average in stature, perhaps a little more sturdy than some girls but still thin. Her wardrobe ranges considerably, though she does tend to more earth-tones and small intricate patterns. She even has some traditional Romani skirts that had been gifted to her by her grandfather and wears them proudly.
On the trip to Diagon Alley just before Oliver began school, Clara was able to convince her father to buy her a pet raven instead of an owl, which she named Baxt - the Romani word for luck or fortune. He hasn’t brought her much of either though, more often causing chaos or thieving shiny objects, but is intelligent and affectionate enough to get away with pretty much everything.
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:It had been a very long morning, going over all of her recent visions with her dear grandfather. The grizzled wizard was the only one who seemed to have any faith in her budding abilities but that was enough for Clara. There was no doubt in her mind that the things she saw and felt were meaningful; she just needed a more experienced mind to help her in deciphering them. And what better mind was there than her Romani ancestor, who had taught her all she knew of reading signs and omens, who kept her connected to the Seer blood in her veins? Someday she would prove to more than just him.
Beneath the pale blue of the sky her fluffy golden hair whispered this way and that in the slight breeze while her raven cawed overhead, following her slow walk through the park. Aside from his lazy call the only thing echoing in her mind were the predictions she was trying to interpret. The various shapes and colors and scents and sounds that could spell either fortune or disaster. So she didn't hear anyone addressing her, and certainly didn't see anyone as her vision came only from her inner eye, not the ones staring blankly from her round face.
Not until Baxt beat his wide wings and alighted on the end of an upturned broom did she blink back to the world around her. "Strange tree," she commented as if speaking to her bird directly. The creature flapped and seemed to complain until Clara recognized that there was a young girl directly next to that 'tree'. "Oh! Not a tree. Or, not anymore at least," she commented about the wooden broom, with an expression that seemed neither friendly or hostile, rather almost vacant. A breeze pushed fluffy hair around and nearly into her mouth as she continued. "I wonder if it's happy it can fly now, after being rooted for so long."
OTHERHow did you find us?
Lia Ayres/Bracken Thomas peer-pressured me haha
