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Messages - Josephine Darling

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Yes, sorry. I should have made that clear :/


E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

Character Name: Josephine Victoria Darling

Gender: Female

Age: 12


Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): 
Phoebe Darling (NPC)


Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?
Hogwarts Student (NPC), Hufflepuff First Year

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:
Skade Larsen, Lucifer Morgenstern, D’Arcy St. James, Elias Irigoyen

Biography: (100 words minimum.)

Josephine’s whole life was wrapped up in her bedroom. On the slanted ceiling, she’d pinned up her collection of pressed flowers: four years worth of daisies (bellis perennis and sweet violet (viola odorata), marigold (caltha palustris) and pennyroyal (mentha pulegium). The delicate petals, a scattering of colors, were pinned between paper and cellophane. Against one wall, a bookshelf was filled to the brim with novels and journals and photoalbums. The latter were packed with grainy, moving images in black and white. Josephine herself was rarely featured in the pictures; instead, the face of a plump, kindhearted woman beamed up from the pages.

The woman in question was Aunt Phoebe: her guardian, but not her actual aunt. It was unclear how exactly Josephine had come into her care—Josephine herself didn’t remember, and Phoebe was vague in her descriptions. “Your parents died,” Josephine’s aunt told her, “so I took you in.”

Josephine wasn’t too perturbed by her mysterious lineage: she had Aunt Phoebe and the tiny, cozy apartment they shared. As far as she was concerned, that was enough. 

Josephine’s departure for Hogwarts in the fall of 1945 was difficult for both of them. Phoebe worried that the quiet, absentminded Josephine would have trouble making friends. Josephine worried that Aunt Phoebe would be lonely without her, and made a point of writing several times a week.

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:
The difference between Aunt Phoebe and her friends was that Phoebe was good at caring for children.

Currently, the group of witches was having tea at Calliope’s home in Hogsmeade. Calliope was the loud, boisterous one. She was balanced by Poppy, who was shy and hardly ever said anything without the influence of a bottle sherry. Cordelia was a large, amiable witch, and a fantastic cook. Phoebe completed the foursome, bringing with her an unparalleled kindheartedness.

Once the four friends got together, it was easy for Josephine to slip out unnoticed. She’d sat through enough of their lunches to know that they were dreadfully boring; all the witches ever talked about were recipes and gossip, and they covered her ears for the interesting bits.
So this time, instead of waiting it out, Josephine had escaped while she could. The streets of Hogsmeade were familiar enough for her to confidently make her way to the park. She hoped to flowers to press; scouring the ground for blossoms, she meandered across the grass.

“You!” a voice cried out, causing Josephine to jump. Big blue eyes on a very small girl stared up at her.

Josephine was admittedly tall for her age, and gangly as well. Her long limbs weren’t elegant; she had the grace of an elephant on stilts, to say the least.

“Do you want to play?”

The tips of Josephine’s protruding ears went pink as she struggled to find words.

“Uh, I, um... Yes,” she finally voiced. The lisp that she’d been trying to fix resurfaced, turning her ‘yes’ into ‘yeth’.

“But I can’t th-tay for long.”

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