E L S E W H E R E C H I L D
CHARACTER INFORMATIONCharacter Name: Hera Redcliff Conyngham
Gender: Female
Age: 14
Bloodline: Halfblood
Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): NPCs - Boreas and Macha
Residence: One of the Conyngham-owned townhouses, London
Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)? No, thanks.
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason? Nope.
Please list any other characters you already have at the site: N/A. None.
Biography: (100 words minimum.)Hera Redcliff Conyngham grew up in the presence of cold, quiet, restrained luxury. Her parents of conservative values communicated clear love in a general sense but were rarely physically affectionate, and never explicitly inspirational or encouraging. It was an “of course” love between parents and child. Things had been even more distant, at best, when it came to extended family.
Hera is immediately descended from a familial branch that was almost ousted from the tree as a whole for the partnership decisions of an ancestor.
Being almost completely uninterested in political details as a topic, at least as they relate to her, she’s mostly ignorant of the broader cultural implications of her line of descent in society and has, instead, grown up internalising these whispered issues more as body image issues in general. A recurring doubt about something being ugly about herself, down to the blood.
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:Hera’s mother had a saying she would often recite, either to celebrate the good moments of life or to bolster hope in the bad ones. ‘The sun is yellow, the grass is green, God’s in Heaven: all’s right with the world.’ Hera wasn’t sure whether her current day stood as a cause for celebration or for hope but she said it to herself anyway. As the young teen’s eyes swept over the crowd’s faces, she felt a glow of comfort from being surrounded by so many pretty, clearly quality, people in the street, even for a village.
Except the young man on the corner, and what appeared to be his girlfriend. They seemed of low birth.
Oooh, a hat shop!...
Hera exited back onto the street, a share of money, for lunch and one of the day’s needed items, short. Surely lunch was less important on such a delicious day though. With a smile and a skip, she found her way inside Godric Park and picked a clear spot from which to model her new purchase. The young teen tilted her head in a few directions, hoping to block the sun’s bright face with her hat. Unfortunately, she had purchased a pillbox.
Three silhouettes streamed over the sun.
"You!" A young voice of demand rang out.
A small girl stood, with both arms folded, and what looked like a training broom wedged into the dirt.
"Do you want to play?"It’s strange, thought Hera, in an anciently-cantankerous-beyond-her-years monologue,
that children approach complete strangers for fun these days. She rolled her head back and opened her mouth slowly in mock consideration before decisively responding. "No. Not at all."
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