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11
Adults & Children / Johnny Kazama
« Last post by Johnny Kazama on 05/06/2019 at 16:47 »

E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Shinnosuke “Johnny” Kazama
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Blood Status: Pureblood

Education: 
Mahōtokoro, age 7 - 17
Hogwarts (Gryffindor), age 17-18


Residence: Hogwarts -> London

Occupation: Delinquent Hogwarts Student

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the Ministry, Shrieking Shack) or to take over an existing shop in need of new management? No

Requested Magic Levels:
  • Charms: 8
  • Divination: 10
  • Transfiguration: 6
  • Summoning: 8
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason? N/A

Please list any other characters you already have at the site: Ic, Rafa, Dol...

Biography:
With a scowl so deep it scratched itself into his soul, Shinnosuke watched her backside shrink away along the platform. Rage and betrayal moved in like bacteria to the wound, cheeks heating (attack! attack!) to purge to rile to wrestle the beast that beastly seized him, grip like jaws around his chest.

She promised.

“Yeah?” he shouted her down, edged with a scream. “If that’s how it’s gonna be, then don’t come back!”

Of course she’d said as much of her plans only moments ago.

“I don’t even need you!” He did. “And I don’t want to see you again, I don’t want you! I never did!”

He did not notice the swell of her shoulders as she sighed, the stitch in her step before faster she went. He did imagine her voice on the breeze, a sweet stern sound to the tune of goodbye, Shin— and that was all.

Whatever god or monster he had to thank for her refusal to turn around, he would never come to offer it; there was too much shame and pride in his tears that he would never acknowledge this moment again.

The curse he threw landed instead in the empty soda bottle tight in his fist. It would scream at Junko Nishimori, trapped in thick brown glass, until it found its way with him to the forest.

The trees were his refuge, his therapy the moss. They wicked away all that clung to his mind. They were forgiving. People, less so. He liked it that way. He could rip to shreds his mother’s heart, his father’s honor, his sisters’ respect, and smile knowing they would always think of him. The forest, he thought, tended to forgive and forget. The only act of violence he had ever shown the trees was the strength of his arm, the weight of the bottle, the impact against a green trunk that shattered the glass in between. 

It was here that Junko Nishimori had saved his life when Shinnosuke Kazama had been stupid enough to lose it. He would almost swear, if he believed in that kind of thing, that some part of it remained in the center of the forest, over the edge of a slick mossy drop. There were times he even wondered if that was how it had always been. 

He sat firmly on the roots of a maple. The fine moss did little to cushion him, but showed its affection instead by leeching the dew through black denim.

Stupid America. Stupid girl. How dare she go back when this was her home? How dare she get married to anyone but him? Stupid age and stupid husbands and stupid stupid stupid Shin—

He pulled a gnarled length of dogwood out of his boot, holding it like viciousness did a blade. Quietly, he summoned a shard of the bottle to his hand and dug the edge into the thick black sole of his boot where her name was carved with a penknife in Hiragana: a vow to her then, and a vow to himself now. Forget her. And never use Hiragana again. And don’t miss her. Whatever you do, Johnny, don’t miss her.


She laughed like a wandering stream in the springtime, grew stern in the thunk of the shishi-odoshi somewhere in the garden nearby. Impishly, he grinned, legs swinging over the edge of the engawa.

“Johnny!

(It righted again as the bamboo filled with the clear cool water, with the brightness of his eyes on her.)

“You can’t distract me, we have to go over your wandform!” Junko puffed her cheeks in patient frustration, and reached for the length of dogwood he held backward, and tight. He kept it well out of her limited reach. “Funny though you may be,” she tried and failed again, “it’s my responsibility that you get it right. Now, you are not a ninja, you are a wizard: there is no such thing as backward wielding. It’s not a sai.”

On her third attempt they grappled, and the student used his cloth-wrapped knee, caught in his robe still pale blossom pink, to gain the advantage over her. The both of them laughed until he pinned her to the dark wooden porch.

“You used to be so little,” Junko said in a sober retreat, too soft to shun the forwardness and strength in his arms. “I carried you up that hill.” He had been dead weight.

Shin, nearly serious, leaned a little further in. “How could I forget?” How could he remember?

“Don’t kid about stuff like that, that was a really hard time for all of us. And you’re lucky! You’re lucky for it, because if I hadn’t been out there too and seen that kappa, you might still be in that ditch.”

“I—”

“Maybe your sisters let you get away with your antics because they’re all too traditional to speak up, but you’re going to listen to the person who saved your life, Shinnosuke Kazama, and hold your wand like a wand,” she said firmly, pushing him easily back to his own, “or I’m going home.”

He didn’t think she meant it like that.


He called himself Johnny because she wanted to call him that too. Her American accent when speaking Japanese was intrusive at even her greatest effort; her predilection to calling him Shinny over Shin-chan led only naturally when he paid attention to her lessons only to transfigure the pants of his gi into blue jeans. If it meant he was trying, she let him.

It got him trouble at Mahōtokoro, but there was very little about him that didn’t. Junko did her best to explain away the antics of the underclassman she was paid to tutor, but their instructors were all much wiser than entertaining the attempts of either. They called him by the name his parents gave, and he argued about the magic of choice and of will, and Junko all in gold bowed so deeply the tips of her hair dragged on the ground while Johnny made even pink look macho as he combed his pompadour higher. Both earned detention, but for how she heard him defend himself, beneath her shame she was so, so proud.

They were a little harder on her while she attended the school, in part because of her heritage (she was a halfblood, born and raised in America) and then because of a bit of fear. Her family’s return Japan was said to be suspicious, having neatly fit within events of the war. Shinnosuke never listened to the whispers behind hands; he was too busy using his own against her heartless detractors. Whatever the story of her family had been, Junko never did anything wrong.

The professor’s quarters would be crawling with stink beetles come sundown.

He called himself Johnny to be like her, because he wasn’t. Not at all.


Maybe she was right about him. She was right about everything else.

His room presented her evidence on each surface. Trophies for racing from innocence forgotten; the old broom mounted above the door like a sword; a plush kappa worn to its threads, its indented head sagging, void in its dull black eyes; frames of bugs stuck through with pins, iridescent wings spread in false flight. Only mended wounds in the paper wall declared its boy’s real age, torn in the size of adolescence’s fist. 

Maybe he did need to—

No. There was no such thing.

Johnny Kazama lay smoking on the ground, bootlace knots still tight as secrets. With his bottom half splayed on the soft tatami, shoulders pressed flat on the engawa with his hair extending toward heaven, he reached lazily for the distant sky beyond the garden wall. He imagined his fingers touching hers, somewhere across the sea. 


That night took him along a path he had been so often before, but he could not possibly have guessed where he would stand at the end.

He’d been to yelling, to the silent treatment, to pretending the other wasn’t there at all. He’d been to the temple, all its steps up the hill, with a mind he could not clear of emotions he did not want, no matter how hard the clap on his shoulder. It sounded through the grand red room, rattled through the lanterns as if they felt it too, the burl of his unrepentant rage released. He’d been to goodbye in all that running away.

“You want to call yourself ‘Jo-ni?’ Speak ‘English?’ Wear ‘blue jeans’ and leather?” The derision in his father’s voice around the foreign words on his tongue were bilious and ugly, his agitation viral. “Perhaps you will be better behaved in an environment that tolerates these behaviors and ridiculous hairstyles!”

His mother disguised her fretting with nonchalance. “For your own good, Shinnosuke, and for our family, we won’t have you being some delinquent.”

“Fine! Send me to America!” Heels lifted as his voice raised.

“So you can hunt her down and ruin her marriage?” the old man barked. “You think we don’t know you, Shinnosuke. You think we’re all fools!”

“You can’t be certain it’s safe yet anyway, dear. I’m not about to lose you again.”

“You’ll go where I say, you’ll finish your education, and that’s all I’ll hear from you about it.”

“No!”


It was more than the accent he struggled to understand. It was the grey sky, the seasonless rain, the fish without soy sauce, the summer without cicadas, that was all so frightening and so very very new.

He lit a bummed cigarette off a wall torch, and ignored the emptiness when he drew a breath.

No one could make him go to Charms ever again.


Roleplay (Option 1): 
He hadn’t been paying attention to the people who moved in their self-saved throngs around him, preferring to place his energy in enjoyment watching some owl in a cage. As it preened (he watched it for tips), the way its beak emerged from the fluff of feathers that belied its form beneath fascinated him sickly. Were it plucked and roasting, how much meat—?

“Merlin’s fog watch, my heel is broken! Help!”

Johnny had two thoughts when the shout broke the murmur of the crowd. No, he had two and a half, with the half being that people didn’t usually yell and it was kind of annoying, and the other two diverging rapidly from there. The first of these was that none of this made sense whatsoever. Perhaps his English English was in need of improvement, because watching fog and breaking heels were nothing he could translate— you would break a foot, wouldn’t you? Or maybe she meant a watch that was run by fog, or timed the fog? What was the use in any of this?

Secondly, were these people really just not responding to a cry for help in the crowd? Johnny Kazama would never be known as a humanitarian, but even he was offended by this. It just didn’t seem right. Unless this nonsense was actual nonsense...  A diversion for thieves? He couldn’t see the woman through the bodies after all (though it wasn’t as if he was really looking) so…

“Yeah!” he shouted in obnoxious return. “Somebody do something!”

Like he was going to be dragged into this and robbed or something. No way.

OTHER
How did you find us? strawgoh
13
Elsewhere Accepted / Re: Lydia Persephone Darcy || Elsewhere adult
« Last post by Sylvia Renn on 01/06/2019 at 02:49 »
Accepted!
14
Adults & Children / Emma Jones
« Last post by Lilith Roberts on 01/06/2019 at 02:01 »
E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Emma Jones

Gender: Female

Age: 11

Bloodline: Halfblood

Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): 
No

Residence:
Godrics Hollow

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:
n/a

Biography: (100 words minimum.)
Emma was a very inquisitive child by nature, and was the one who always asked "why?" She started reading simple words by the age of four, and although she knew how to walk, preferred to stay still. Her parents were Muggle-lovers by nature and successful aurors. She also helped take care of her little cousin in whatever ways she could. She spent a lot of time with her dad, who would often color with her, and taught her how to sound out more complex words. Both parents tried to get Emma to be more active, but they had little luck for a long time. They finally almost gave in after an incident that left Emma with a scar on her right knee, and a broken bike. Her cousin Brittney had been a year old, and Emma was now four. The crash itself wasn't as bad as the landing. She had managed to tip the bike over, and had landed on a razor sharp shard of glass. The bike was fine until it was run over by the neighbor. It wasn't until a close family friend suggested swimming that they regained hope for sports. Emma instantly loved the water, and was swimming well in what seemed like no time. Even young Brittney enjoyed playing in her floaties with her mom.At the age of six, Emma met some of the other children on the block. She had seen them before, but it was at a summer block party that she really met everyone. She had sat in the corner for a majority of the party, reading her book and drinking lemonade, until another young girl had walked up. She had introduced herself as Katie, and started talking. At first Emma was nervous. It was her first time meeting someone her age, and she wasn't very good at introductions. Finally the girl had paused to ask Emma a little about herself. After Emma finished, the two talked about what they liked to do, and simple things that children usually talk about.

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:
How Emma loved going to the park.

Why did the weather have to be so bleak?  And then she saw the brooms.  Why did they have to do this in pain sight of Muggles?

Then there was a tinier broomstick.  With no one on it?  How awkward!

What was going on?  She ran and tried to stop the broom.

The little girl was clearly in a hurry.  But for what?

And then she was safe.  PHEW.  Emma thought she would walk away.  Then she looked at her watch.  BLIMEY.  It's past curfew.

He was mean alright.  And then she watched from a distance while the little girl asked him to play.  WOW.


OTHER
How did you find us? TopSites
15
Archived Applications / Emma Jones
« Last post by Lilith Roberts on 01/06/2019 at 01:58 »
E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Emma Jones

Gender: Female

Age: 11

Bloodline: Halfblood

Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): 
No

Residence:
Godrics Hollow

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:
n/a

Biography: (100 words minimum.)
Emma was a very inquisitive child by nature, and was the one who always asked "why?" She started reading simple words by the age of four, and although she knew how to walk, preferred to stay still. Her parents were Muggle-lovers by nature and successful aurors. She also helped take care of her little cousin in whatever ways she could. She spent a lot of time with her dad, who would often color with her, and taught her how to sound out more complex words. Both parents tried to get Neens to be more active, but they had little luck for a long time. They finally almost gave in after an incident that left Neens with a scar on her right knee, and a broken bike. Her cousin Brittney had been a year old, and Emma was now four. The crash itself wasn't as bad as the landing. She had managed to tip the bike over, and had landed on a razor sharp shard of glass. The bike was fine until it was run over by the neighbor. It wasn't until a close family friend suggested swimming that they regained hope for sports. Emma instantly loved the water, and was swimming well in what seemed like no time. Even young Brittney enjoyed playing in her floaties with her mom.At the age of six, Emma met some of the other children on the block. She had seen them before, but it was at a summer block party that she really met everyone. She had sat in the corner for a majority of the party, reading her book and drinking lemonade, until another young girl had walked up. She had introduced herself as Katie, and started talking. At first Emma was nervous. It was her first time meeting someone her age, and she wasn't very good at introductions. Finally the girl had paused to ask Neens a little about herself. After Emma finished, the two talked about what they liked to do, and simple things that children usually talk about.

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:
How Emma loved going to the park.

Why did the weather have to be so bleak?  And then she saw the brooms.  Why did they have to do this in pain sight of Muggles?

Then there was a tinier broomstick.  With no one on it?  How awkward!

What was going on?  She ran and tried to stop the broom.

The little girl was clearly in a hurry.  But for what?

And then she was safe.  PHEW.  Emma thought she would walk away.  Then she looked at her watch.  BLIMEY.  It's past curfew.

He was mean alright.  And then she watched from a distance while the little girl asked him to play.  WOW.


OTHER
How did you find us? TopSites
16
Elsewhere Accepted / Re: Lydia Persephone Darcy || Elsewhere adult
« Last post by Clara Darcy on 28/05/2019 at 18:19 »

E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Lydia Persephone Darcy
Gender: female
Age: 22
Blood Status: Pureblood

Education: 
Hogwarts(ravenclaw) until the end of fifth year in which she was pulled out to be homeschooled.

Residence:
London ; Thornhill Estate

Occupation:
none

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the Ministry, Shrieking Shack) or to take over an existing shop in need of new management?
nope

Requested Magic Levels:
Adult characters have 32 starting levels to distribute across these four categories (less levels can be used if you so desire, but no more than 32). The number of levels on the lowest ability must be at least half of the highest ability.

If you want levels above the usual 32 total, or a significantly uneven distribution of starting levels, please fill out and submit the Special Request form here.

  • Charms: 9
  • Divination: 5
  • Transfiguration: 11
  • Summoning: 7
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
Nah

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Clara Darcy(Lydia's cousin)

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
Everyone knows that the Darcys are somewhat backwards in their views on, well anything. They're old money, old blood, the sort of family you can trace back for centuries. Within the Darcy family, women are seen as little more than bearers of children, pretty faces and someone to keep the staff in order. Lydia was taught that from a young age, her parents made it clear that her older brother Alistair Darcy was their favourite, seeing Lydia as little more than a political pawn to unite two pureblooded families together one day.

To a little girl, that's not easy. But Lydia didn't know this wasn't how children were supposed to be raised and so for the first eleven years of her life she remained oblivious to the faults of her parents. She was a good little girl, even if she was never quite enough, and she tried her best to do what her parents wanted. She learnt the piano(something she actually was very talented at), she did her embroidery and she spent hours on end perfecting her posture, her manners, all the things that her parents valued in a woman.

Then came Hogwarts and to Lydia it was as if she had stepped into heaven. Suddenly it was okay if she wasn't the perfect lady, suddenly people actually wanted her to learn, to compete. Lydia came out of the shell she'd practically been born in and by the end of the first year she was a boisterous and fun loving girl with a mischievous streak a mile wide. Of course every summer she'd retreat back into her shell though.

Over the years, Lydia made many a friend. She'd grown up with blood purist views and so at first she'd stayed away from the muggleborns, but Lydia was a naïve young girl easily swayed by other's opinions and soon she had warmed up to them. She joined the ravenclaw quidditch team and while she wasn't much good, she made up for it in enthusiasm and creative tactics. She realised that she was actually quite smart and actually really good with spells. Things were looking up for her.

But as the summers went on, it became harder and harder for Lydia to retreat back into her shell of a perfect lady and in the summer of her fifth year, it became too much for her parents. Lydia was no longer the perfect lady they had raised, she was scrappy, she talked back, was always thirsting to learn more and stood up for what she believed in. That summer they pulled Lydia out of Hogwarts and for her final two years, she was home schooled. She never got to say goodbye to her friends, never got to even tell them she wasn't coming back.

In those two years, Lydia's parents did their very best to stamp out this new Lydia, with tactics ranging from no food to screaming at her to even the occasional lash out with their wands. By the time Lyds was 18, she was barely Lydia. Her spunk, her heart, her fire, her plans on becoming an auror- all but gone.

Now, Lydia is well and truly back in her shell, quiet and demure. But deep within she's still Lydia, still the girl who could talk your ear off about space, or transfiguration, or different musicians(Liszt can burn in hell). Very very deep down. She's just scared, she just believes that her temporary taste of what it was really like to live was all fake, that all she is a bearer of children, a pretty face.


Roleplay: 
You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character:

Option Two -
The snow had been falling steadily all morning and it didn't look like it was going to stop any time soon. Joshua Campbell scrunched his face up in a frown as he lifted his gaze to look to the sky. Snow. It really was quite a bother.

And it certainly didn't make it better that Diagon Alley seemed to be getting more and more crowded. Joshua sighed and pointed his wand at the large box that was currently placed on the doorstep of his shop. He had to get going. He had an order to deliver.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The elderly man muttered and watched the box hover in the air for a moment. Honestly, did St. Mungo's really need that much tinsel? And with glitter of all things? He sighed again. If it hadn't been for the rather convincing stamp on the order, he would have been likely to believe it had been a prank by one of those orphaned rascals living up there. 

Oh well, there was no point in waiting. Joshua deftly stirred the box down the doorstep and out onto the street, carefully levitating it above the heads of the crowd.

"Coming through! Coming through!" His voice sounded over the chatter of the crowd. "Keep out! Move ahead! Go on!" This was going way too slow. People were in the way and walking like they had all day! He huffed. Luckily the road was down hill.

"Coming through! Coming th--- arrrgh!" Joshua let out a loud shout as his feet suddenly slipped in the snow and sent him, the box, and several long strands of tinsel tumbling into the person who had been walking in front of him.

"For Merlin's sake!" Joshua muttered angrily as he hurried to his feet again, red and gold tinsel now decorating his black coat. "I am so sorry! This blasted snow!" He looked apologetic at the person he had crashed into.

Roleplay Response:
Lydia felt trapped. Surrounded on all sides by people, so many people, she wanted to reach into her coat pocket and wrap her fingers around her wand, to protect herself. It was too much. She glanced to the man walking beside her, tall and forboding, but good and strong and unwavering. Father. He would protect her, he would stop the onslaught of people.

He was talking of the son of a man he worked with, who he'd set up a meeting with for Lydia. That was good, mother and father were always talking of how Lydia still remained without a fiance or a husband. She was twenty two, they said, they needed her to get a husband and further the Darcy's scope of influence. It was her duty.

And so Lydia nodded, and Lydia smiled. A good daughter she was, even if she'd had a bit of a lapse back when she'd started Hogwarts. That had been a mistake though, simply her being ungrateful of the care and affection she received from her parents. It wouldn't happen again, even if deep down Lydia missed the freedom that she'd had back at the school.

A shout of 'Coming through!' came from behind and Lydia glanced over her shoulder to find the source. But before she could do as the man had asked, he'd slipped on the icy pavement, bowling straight into Lydia and sending her flying to land on the floor with a thump, a little yelp torn from her lips.

Lydia winced, the jolt that shuddered through her body upon contact with the ground making her ache. That would leave a bruise. She barely noticed as the man who'd crashed into her jumped up, apologising earnestly. Lydia barely noticed anything, she was in a bit of a daze.

But what Lydia did notice was the iron grip on her bicep that wrenched her back onto her feet, the hiss of annoyance Lydia's father uttered.

"Come on," he gritted out, shooting a deadly glare towards the other man. And so Lydia was ushered away, cheeks pinking. Now she'd gone and made father mad. She cast one last glance at the man as the pair took their leave, a final apology in the look she wore.


OTHER
How did you find us? Google
17
Adults & Children / ACCEPTED: Elsewhere Child: Robbie Foxglove
« Last post by Calypso Ross on 18/05/2019 at 22:13 »
Congratulations! This application has been accepted.

http://hogwarts-school.net/sortinghat/index.php?topic=8643.0
18
Elsewhere Accepted / Re: Elsewhere Child: Robbie Foxglove
« Last post by Calypso Ross on 18/05/2019 at 22:13 »
Accepted!
19
Elsewhere Accepted / Re: Lydia Persephone Darcy || Elsewhere adult
« Last post by Calypso Ross on 18/05/2019 at 22:09 »
Hi Lydia!

Your app looks great so far, there's just one thing we'll need you to edit before we can get you accepted.

In your RP sample, you have Lydia being ushered away at the end of your response. Although Joshua isn't a real character, we'd like you to treat this RP sample as if it were a real post on the site. Removing Lydia from the scene at the end (even against her will) wouldn't leave much room for further interaction between Joshua and Lydia. If you could edit the final part of your RP sample to have Lydia stay in the interaction (perhaps her father is trying to pull her away or telling her to move but she glances back at Joshua, for example), that would be great.

Once you've made the required change, please repost your entire revised application below, and we'll be more than happy to take another look. Thanks!
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