E L S E W H E R E C H I L D CHARACTER INFORMATIONCharacter Name:
Finley Belarius FaustGender:
Father: Deleval Faust
Mother: Euphemia Faust
The Faust Estate and Plains, Virginia Water, Surrey, Great BritainDo you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?
Previous Hogwarts Student, joining with the intention of enlisting with the Military Youth Program.I know Hogwarts is not accepting students at the moment, but I was told I could apply with Finley for the youth military in the Elsewhere forum.Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
As aforementioned, I intend to enlist Finley in the Military youth program, which he would have been unable to avoid being Second Born in his family. Though he would’ve been easily eager to jump at the chance to immerse himself in something “normal”.Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Patrick Pevenso (Currently inactive due to idle time)
Margot Koell (Currently inactive due to idle time)Biography: (100 words minimum.)Summer, 1941
“Seven bedrooms, two drawing rooms, three studies, and a lawn bowling field for Merlin’s sake and still, he holes himself up in the old garden shed. It’s like this house isn’t good enough for him! Really, Del, it’s simply egregious.”
Euphemia peered through chiffon drapes out to the back lawn, listening to the clanking and banging of furniture being rearranged out in the garden shed. Deleval sat at his desk, thumbing through ledgers as his wife chattered on.
“I just don’t know what he serves to gain from this.”
“It’s seems fairly simple to me, Ephie.” Deleval removed his glasses and examined them in the sunlight, “It’s a matter of freedom. He’s the right age. I remember when I was fourteen, I couldn’t be bothered with things like Arithmancy and Ancient Runes; all the subjects my parents were forcing on me. Etiquette and, and History of Magic? It all seemed so dull back then. He’s just looking for something that separates him from, well, us.”
“And I cannot wrap my head around that. We give him everything, Del, everything.”
“And if he doesn’t want that?” The glasses found their home once again upon Deleval’s nose. He picked up his quill and began again with his ledgers. “It was awful nice of Cordelia to fix the shed up for him like that. She’s really quite gifted, magically, you know.”
A harsh eyeroll from Euphemia showed no amusement. “Don’t you start with that now. Finley already idolizes that woman like she was Joan of Arc herself.”
“Joan was a lovely woman, Ephie. Perhaps a bit abrasive at times, but her and my family were quite close.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve heard the story over and again. I just wish that boy would learn a bit of maturity and sensibility. His head is always in the clouds, and about the middle class no less! You’d think he fantasized about marrying a Muggleborn, dare I say it.”
“Euphemia.” Deleval set down his utensils, realizing it was maybe not the time for work, “That’s a silly way to think and you know it. He’ll come around, he just needs time to be a free spirit and discover what we know to be true on his own. Everything will be fine. It was with Ramses.”
“Ramses never did any of this though. Egregious, Del. It just is.” Euphemia threw the drapes closed in a whip of fabric, marching out of the study.Spring, 1942
A blank scroll of parchment lay on the table in front of Finley Faust. He stared at it, blinking wildly. The quiet shuffle of the library felt like a roaring storm as he tried to hone in on a proper subject for his essay. It was a secret, and a rather large one, taking Muggle Studies. His mother would surely skin him alive if she found out, and Fin wasn’t sure he could handle the dreaded look of disappointment that would undoubtedly adorn his father’s face. Ramses and Fin had come to fear that look as they might fear death itself.
For the most part, Muggle Studies focused on history and culture, but this week the class had been asked to deliver an essay (eleven painstaking inches)
on why Muggle Studies. Finley didn’t really know why. Did he have a good reason? It was easy to assume it was an act of rebellion, and maybe that was part of it, but moreso, Fin thought of the Muggles as normal
The wizarding world was filled with over convenience and mystery and, for lack of a better word, magic. But not the Muggle world. That was all a matter of fantasy to them. Muggles got married and had kids who went to primary schools. They moved into townhouses and apartments, drove cars, and attended Universities. It was a world of normal. The beauty of Muggles was found in their simplicity.
And just like that, like a flash of lightning, he had. Finley dipped his quill into some ink and began scratching away at the parchment furiously. Hours tolled by and the library became quieter and quieter as students trickled out to attend dinner. FInley stayed, planted in his seat, none the wiser to the fact that his essay has developed far beyond eleven inches.
Nine o’clock, Fin sat back, looking down at his parchment. Line after line, word after word blended together now, but he felt satisfied. He’d said what he wanted, and meant what he said, right down to the final line.”In short, the Muggle world is fascinating for the very reason they read novels of elves and battles, wizards and spirits. What they find mystifying and magical, we’ve come to find drab and routine. One could go as far as saying I hold a special place in my heart for the Muggles; one of love. Dare I say, I might even go to war for them, should I find the opportunity to do so.”
And that was that.Roleplay:Reply as your character to the following:
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:This really felt like a waste of time.
Some kind of midday tea or celebration. Finley lost count of the number of pointless parties him and his family had been to. The only upside was that there were usually so many people attending, it was easy for Fin to slip away and find something better to do. Godric Park wasn’t exactly his first choice, but it would do for now.
He’d removed his suit coat and was now dragging through the dust on the ground. Oh well, he could clean it up later. Several children and families laughed and gallivanted through the park, some on brooms, some with picnics. It all felt so contrived, the whole idea of Godric’s Hollow and the park. A hidden neighborhood with mysteries for rich wizarding families, nestled immediately into the Muggle community, that which they’d never know. It was like something out of a children’s book, but it was real and Finley was standing in the middle of it. He shooed the thought from his mind.
”You! ...Do you want to play?”
Finley turned about face to find a young girl with a toy broom in hand. She stood firmly with the handle rooted square in the ground, as if it were a tree sprouting from the dirt.
“Do I want.. to… play? On your toy broom…” Fin’s eyebrow arched inquisitively.
He didn’t want to be condescending, but it did seem a bit odd. And sure, he felt bad for the girl, playing all by her lonesome, but Quidditch on a toy broom? How dull.
“Well… I don’t think I’d like to play on your broom. I’m likely too big anyway. How about a nice game of tag? Or hide and seek?”OTHER
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