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Messages - Corina Lamont

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Elsewhere Accepted / Corina Lamont || Child
« on: 18/05/2020 at 18:45 »
E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

Character Name: Corina Lamont

Gender: Female

Age: 9


Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?):
Elena Lamont (NPC)


Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
Raluca Lamont, twin sister

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Marjorie Laskos, Dorian Fortnum, et al

Biography: (100 words minimum.)
Corina didn’t want to believe it, though Luca had no reason to lie to her.


Corina tucked herself into the small nook of her closet that was her special hiding spot. She’d been there for...who even knew how long. The watch she had pilfered had hands that ticked both forward and back, making the passage of time erratic and untrackable. Sitting cross legged on the floor, she leaned forward over the pile of treasures she had freed from their original owners. It wasn’t that she wanted to steal, and she understood that these things belonged to someone else. It was more like...she wanted to keep a piece of other people, a momento. She wanted to hold onto something permanent so she could have a reminder of people and places all the time.

She set the watch aside, and used a single finger to push a button to the center of her treasure pile, past the wrapper from her most recent chocolate frog and next to the single pearly earring whose match still sat in her mother’s jewelry box.

The button was tortoiseshell, about the size of a knut and worn smooth from use. The jacket it belonged to had not been taken out of circulation in spite of the button’s absence, though the man who it belonged to had, more than once, lamented the loss of the thing. Corina frowned at it, pushing it a little further away from her so that it sat next to a tooth that had fallen out of the mouth of the plimpy that Marina kept as a pet.

It didn’t seem to fit there, either, next to the reminder of her sister.

Corina pushed it further still so that it sat alone outside of the circle of her treasures. Her father’s button. Or not? Not her father? Corina furrowed her brow. Raluca had no reason to lie, and Corina knew knew knew that if she had said it then it was real.

He wasn’t her father.

She gathered up the rest of her treasures. A whisker from Sir Scratchalot. A thread and needle from the robe shop where she’d soon enough be getting fitted for her own Hogwarts robes. A single block with the letter L that she’d taken from the daycare that she certainly felt too old to be going to anymore (she was mature now, after all, practically a witch already, nearly beginning Hogwarts). Corina leaned back against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest.

If he wasn’t her dad, then who was? And what did any of it mean? She couldn’t ask her mom about it, not yet. No, there had to be some other way to get the information, and that meant that she’d have to leave the safety of her shelter, find Luca, and hatch a plan. After all, together they could do anything.

She pocketed the button before standing up. It would need to hit the burn pile--there was no reason to keep it now.

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:
Corina dug with a stick in the dirt. It wasn’t for the sake of digging, though that did have its merits. No, this time it was because there was rock that seemed particularly glittery lodged partway into the soil and she wanted to free it from its shallow grave. A rock this polished, this special must have belonged to someone once, and she wanted to know more. The only way to manage that would be to palm the stone, press it against her fingers, examine it in the sunlight.

It was important work.

Important enough that the shouting and yelling of the other kids in the park could barely penetrate her focus. They could zip and zoom and do whatever it was they were doing, but she would become the new owner of this particular beauty that someone else had either lost or chosen to leave behind. Bronzite, maybe, or some other sort of jasper. Corina was sure she had a book somewhere about these stones, was sure it was Important.

And maybe, since rocks didn’t burn, she could pass it along to Raluca when she was done with it. It seemed like the sort of thing she could string onto a necklace or embed into a tiara or something else similar and dainty.


Her focus broke along with the stick she’d been using for digging. Glaring up the girl, she stood from her crouched position and crossed her arms.

The girl huffed as much as Corina did, not looking like a particularly interesting playmate. And, to top it off, she had stopped Corina’s excavation and broken her tool for the work.

“Why should I?” she asked, lips curving into a frown.

How did you find us? a wee bird whispered it to me long ago

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