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Messages - Cordelia E. Heidenrich

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1
Suggestions & Questions / Application Title
« on: 12/05/2014 at 09:59 »
So.....I realized I couldn't edit the title to change Incomplete to Completed. ;w;


2
E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D
CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name:Cordelia Eithne Heidenrich
Gender:Female
Age: 5
Bloodline:
Pureblood
Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): 
Albrecht Garrett Heidenrich (passed away, npc)
Rhiannon-Rhaeghan Cyrene Heidenrich, nee Diederich (played)
Residence:
Originally Falkenrath Hofmeister Manor, currently Meyer Messerli House, Ireland.
Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?
Maybe.
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
As a group with Diederich Household, Delia now lives with her mother after the main branch of Heidenrich has shrivelled dry.
Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Rhiannon-Rhaeghan C. Diederich II
Ryszard R.B. Diederich.
Biography: (100 words minimum.)
It had been an uneventful summer morning, vividly winged insects danced lazily among fields of crimosn and magenta as arid winds rustled scraggly boughs in the magnificent gardens of Meyer Messerli House, home to the elusive Diederich and final Heidenrich. A convincing oriental symphony resonated in the backdrop of the buoying rise of silken fabric, beautifully crafted and intricately embroidered. A figure danced in the courtyard, to the climactic momentum of the melody played, to the quick flicking wrists of Cordelia's frail wrists as she  hurriedly lay rough brushes to her pale canvas.

Eilidh's dancing silhouette was too beautiful to be missed, and Darcy's strumming of the string instrument Cordelia knew no name of simply added to the ambience.

Cordelia's delicate,porcelain fingers were now muddled with splashes of lurid color, catching some of the paint in her hair, and even on her adorable face. The dramatic bow on her little head drooped, due to her rigorous movement and concentration. When it came to art, Cordelia could not find herself as ladylike as she would be pleased to be, and she did not mind at all.
 Cordelia's glittering childhood dream was to become someone as perfect and faultless as her mother,  her round,her radiant eyes would gleam with dazzling bright light as she thought about the regal grace that her mother had carried herself with. Imagining one day that she would amount to such greatness.

Yet,Cordelia couldn't be as concerned because her masterpiece required her utmost attention.When the melody ended and the beautiful fabric fell quiet to the marble pavement, Cordelia roughly wiped huge beads of sweat from her fine,brunette brow. Her lips pursed disapprovingly as she accidentally added more color to her face.

Her ears were sharp, faint clicks of magnificent strides reached her anxiously twitching earlobes, Cordelia quickly wiped her hands on the pale blue apron she had prepared for the artful morning.Forgetting the slick brush matted with paint she had wedged above her left ear, touches of yellow and vermillon gauche stars sparkled in her smooth brown curls. Licks of brown hung on her brow, most curling in wild waves atop her pretty little head.

When the radiant and lustrous profile emerged from afar, Cordelia leapt to her feet quickly, in her eyes were twinkling admiration characteristic of most children her age.

She had respected and loved her mother ever since she could recognize people. Mother had always been so breathtaking, immaculate and heavenly. Her tall,lissome figure, luminous blonde hair, rosy porcelain skin as pristine as freshly fallen snow, pastel eyes as clear as a diamond and just as mesmerizing. Her mother was revered, respected, adored, her mother was polite,intelligent, understanding, and had always been the golden girl in her early years.

From most comments heard during eavesdropping adult gossip with her uncle Ryszard, almost everyone was tearing each others face off so to have this flawless trophy wife at that time.

Cordelia bit her lower lip, and raised her chin, mimicking her mother's form as observed throughout the years. She made her way towards the slowly nearing shadow of her Mother, not noticing the low chuckle and giggle from her House Butler and Housekeeper.

She adjusted the bow on her head carefully, dimpling the delicate fabric with bright yellow and red.

Cordelia curtsied, her painted fingers that printed the satin dress with prints had gone unnoticed by her, as did the risen arch of blonde brow of her mother that disappeared as thought it was never there to begin with.

As she was about to address her mother,she pouted at her fingers responsible for her now dirty dress. Cordelia looked up at her mother with awkward tears.

She saw her mother sigh and smile lovingly, Delia beamed as her mother asked her about her painting.

Delia scrambled for the painting, but forgot about the damp paint upon her fingertips.

She gasped devastatedly, tears gathering in her eyes as she raised her dainty head to look at her mother remorsefully, pointing at the dots and spots of clumsy color on the impressionist painting. Then, she closed her eyes to avoid looking at the imagined disappointment she expected to be in her mother's eyes.

Delia felt something soft wiping her fingers and arms, she cracked open blue eyes to see her mother had knelt down,and was attentively wiping her fingers clean. Her mother was thorough and patient, making no comment as Delia flustered every shade of named red she had put in the painting, then gently handed the now dirty napkin to Eilidh who had appeared sometime during Delia's anxiety attack. Delia remained stiff as her mother began to clean her face.

Her mother then proceeded to pluck the brush perched on her ear, then made brisk and faint strokes on her canvas. Delia watched in awe as her mother made the spots into pirouetting butterflies and spiraling tendrils. When her mother was finished, Delia's blue eyes began sparkling brilliant starlight.
Delia outheld her arms to embrace her mother,but then remembered the stains on her apron, she looked at her mother with conflicted eyes. Delia's mother simply loosened the puffy ribbon on her back, and gave the apron to Eilidh politely.

Delia fiddled her fingers timidly,her arms were too short.

Then, her mother enveloped her in her warm embrace, Delia nuzzled her mother's nose with her own, and coiled her arms around her mother's graceful neck. She felt herself lifted into the air, and found that Darcy was giving her a condescending smirk as he informed her mother of early noon tea. Cordelia made a face at the man, and buried her embarassment in her mother's shoulder.


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:
Cordelia dangled her feet lightly in the air, her focus on her current sketch of the nearby fountain that sprung filigree spurts of silvery water. Her brows furrowing slightly, Cordelia held out the piece of charcoal in her hand to estimate the exact angle, but couldn't get it quite right. The zipping of broomstick in the air did not perturb her one bit, but rather improve her mood.

She would play chase with her Uncle Ryszard whenever summer comes or when winter arrives and they migrate to another Diederich House in a warmer climate.

Eilidh had brought her out today because she needed inspiration, and there seemed to be a colossal block that obstructed the turgid flow of her creativity.

It was..... an art block, so to speak, Cordelia had limited use of creative language anyways.

Cordelia nudged her cheek with the piece of bread that served as her eraser in frustration.

She jolted at the sudden bark that came from nowhere at all, and hugged the sketchpad protectively to her chest. Her eyes looking fearfully at the fierce, older girl that just screamed at her.

How can she bear to scare someone as unassuming as herself? Cordelia also had limited understanding of humanity.

".....I'll play with you, if you have an extra broomstick,"Cordelia answered carefully. She eyed the girl, and timidly answered," And, please, just let me finish my drawing, pretty please,"Cordelia batted her eyelashes sincerely.

OTHER
How did you find us? Other
Found some typos and edited.

3
E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D
CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name:Cordelia Eithne Heidenrich
Gender:Female
Age: 5
Bloodline:
Pureblood
Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): 
Albrecht Garrett Heidenrich (passed away, npc)
Rhiannon-Rhaeghan Cyrene Heidenrich, nee Diederich (played)
Residence:
Originally Falkenrath Hofmeister Manor, currently Meyer Messerli House, Ireland.
Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?
Maybe.
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
As a group with Diederich Household, Delia now lives with her mother after the main branch of Heidenrich has shrivelled dry.
Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Rhiannon-Rhaeghan C. Diederich II
Ryszard R.B. Diederich.
Biography: (100 words minimum.)
It had been an uneventful summer morning, vividly winged insects danced lazily among fields of crimosn and magenta as arid winds rustled scraggly boughs in the magnificent gardens of Meyer Messerli House, home to the elusive Diederich and final Heidenrich. A convincing oriental symphony resonated in the backdrop of the buoying rise of silken fabric, beautifully crafted and intricately embroidered. A figure danced in the courtyard, to the climactic momentum of the melody played, to the quick flicking wrists of Cordelia's frail wrists as she  hurriedly lay rough brushes to her pale canvas.

Eilidh's dancing silhouette was too beautiful to be missed, and Darcy's strumming of the string instrument Cordelia knew no name of simply added to the ambience.

Cordelia's delicate,porcelain fingers were now muddled with splashes of lurid color, catching some of the paint in her hair, and even on her adorable face. The dramatic bow on her little head drooped, due to her rigorous movement and concentration. When it came to art, Cordelia could not find herself as ladylike as she would be pleased to be, and she did not mind at all.
 Cordelia's glittering childhood dream was to become someone as perfect anf faultless as her mother,  her round,her radiant eyes would gleam with dazzling bright light as she thought about the regal grace that her mother had carried herself with. Imagining one day that she would amount to such greatness.

Yet,Cordelia couldn't be as concerned because her masterpiece required her utmost attention.When the melody ended and the beautiful fabric fell quiet to the marble pavement, Cordelia roughly wiped huge beads of sweat from her fine,brunette brow. Her lips pursed disapprovingly as she accidentally added more color to her face.

Her ears were sharp, faint clicks of magnificent strides reached her anxiously twitching earlobes, Cordelia quickly wiped her hands on the pale blue apron she had prepared for the artful morning.Forgetting the slick brush matted with paint she had wedged above her left ear, touches of yellow and vermillon gauche stars sparkled in her smooth brown curls. Licks of brown hung on her brow, most curling in wild waves atop her pretty little head.

When the radiant and lustrous profile emerged from afar, Cordelia leapt to her feet quickly, in her eyes were twinkling admiration characteristic of most children her age.

She had respected and loved her mother ever since she could recognize people. Mother had always been so breathtaking, immaculate and heavenly. Her tall,lissome figure, luminous blonde hair, rosy porcelain skin as pristine as freshly fallen snow, pastel eyes as clear as a diamond and just as mesmerizing. Her mother was revered, respected, adored, her mother was polite,intelligent, understanding, and had always been the golden girl in her early years.

From most comments heard during eavesdropping adult gossip with her uncle Ryszard, almost everyone was tearing each others face off so to have this flawless trophy wife at that time.

Cordelia bit her lower lip, and raised her chin, mimicking her mother's form as observed throughout the years. She made her way towards the slowly nearing shadow of her Mother, not noticing the low chuckle and giggle from her House Butler and Housekeeper.

She adjusted the bow on her head carefully, dimpling the delicate fabric with bright yellow and red.

Cordelia curtsied, her painted fingers that printed the satin dress with prints had gone unnoticed by her, as did the risen arch of blonde brow of her mother that disappeared as thought it was never there to begin with.

As she was about to address her mother,she pouted at her fingers responsible for her now dirty dress. Cordelia looked up at her mother with awkward tears.

She saw her mother sigh and smile lovingly, Delia beamed as her mother asked her about her painting.

Delia scrambled for the painting, but forgot about the damp paint upon her fingertips.

She gasped devastatedly, tears gathering in her eyes as she raised her dainty head to look at her mother remorsefully, pointing at the dots and spots of clumsy color on the impressionist painting. Then, she closed her eyes to avoid looking at the imagined disappointment she expected to be in her mother's eyes.

Delia felt something soft wiping her fingers and arms, she cracked open blue eyes to see her mother had knelt down,and was attentively wiping her fingers clean. Her mother was thorough and patient, making no comment as Delia flustered every shade of named red she had put in the painting, then gently handed the now dirty napkin to Eilidh who had appeared sometime during Delia's anxiety attack. Delia remained stiff as her mother began to clean her face.

Her mother then proceeded to pluck the brush perched on her ear, then made brisk and faint strokes on her canvas. Delia watched in awe as her mother made the spots into pirouetting butterflies and spiraling tendrils. When her mother was finished, Delia's blue eyes began sparkling a
Delia outheld her arms to embrace her mother,but then remembered the stains on her apron, looking at her mother with conflicted eyes. Delia's mother simply loosened the puffy ribbon on her back, and gave the apron to Eilidh politely.

Delia fiddled her fingers timidly,her arms were too short.

Then, her mother enveloped her in her warm embrace, Delia nuzzled her mother's nose with her own, and coiled her arms around her mother's graceful neck. She felt herself lifted into the air, and found that Darcy was giving her a condescending smirk as he informed her mother of early noon tea. Cordelia made a face at the man, and buried her embarassment in her mother's shoulder.


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:
Cordelia dangled her feet lightly in the air, her focus on her current sketch of the nearby fountain that sprung filigree spurts of silvery water. Her brows furrowing slightly, Cordelia held out the piece of charcoal in her hand to estimate the exact angle, but couldn't get it quite right. The zipping of broomstick in the air did not perturb her one bit, but rather improve her mood.

She would play chase with her Uncle Ryszard whenever summer comes or when winter arrives and they migrate to another Diederich House in a warmer climate.

Eilidh had brought her out today because she needed inspiration, and there seemed to be a colossal block that obstructed the turgid flow of her creativity.

It was..... an art block, so to speak, Cordelia had limited use of creative language anyways.

Cordelia nudged her cheek with the piece of bread that served as her eraser in frustration.

She jolted at the sudden bark that came from nowhere at all, and hugged the sketchpad protectively to her chest. Her eyes looking fearfully at the fierce, older girl that just screamed at her.

How can she bear to scare someone as unassuming as herself? Cordelia also had limited understanding of humanity.

".....I'll play with you, if you have an extra broomstick,"Cordelia answered carefully. She eyed the girl, and timidly answered," And, please, just let me finish my drawing, pretty please,"Cordelia batted her eyelashes sincerely.

OTHER
How did you find us? Other

4
E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D
CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name:Cordelia Eithne Heidenrich
Gender:Female
Age: 5
Bloodline:
Pureblood
Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): 
Albrecht Garrett Heidenrich (passed away, npc)
Rhiannon-Rhaeghan Cyrene Heidenrich, nee Diederich (played)
Residence:
Originally Falkenrath Hofmeister Manor,
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?
As a group with Diederich Household, Delia now lives with her mother after the main branch of Heidenrich has shrivelled dry.
Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Rhiannon-Rhaeghan C. Diederich II
Ryszard R.B. Diederich.
Biography: (100 words minimum.)
Type your response here.
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:
Type your response here.
OTHER
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