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Author Topic: Bracken Thomas | Elsewhere Teen  (Read 173 times)

Bracken Thomas

    (28/09/2018 at 23:22)
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E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

Character Name: Bracken Edmond Thomas

Gender: Male

Age: 14


Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): 
Hubert Thomas and the deceased Ethel Thomas - NPC's

Small wizarding village near Derbyshire

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

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:
First char here

Biography: (100 words minimum.)
He was an investor, she was an herbologist - can I make it anymore obvious?

They met at an Appleby Arrows party, bonding over their lack of attachment to the aforementioned slumping team. Rest assured that as they drew ever closer in the corner of a gathering otherwise colored cheerful and pale blue, the undertones of grumbling between Hubert Thomas and Ethel Densfeld slithered their way to intrigued chuckling and coy smirks. Three and a half years and a century's worth of familial drama later, a poorly-attended ceremony united Hubert and Ethel in marriage until death would they part.

First came Laurel, bright eyed and spirited. She hadn't quite reached three when baby brother Bracken came along, darker hair and eyes in stark contrast. Named, of course, with flora in mind, the Thomas children grew up in a cottage in the countryside of Derbyshire that was ever adorned with greenery, snaking vines and vibrant flowers and leaves of every shape and size blanketing the home, an enchanting forest of their very own. They were very different, Laurel and Bracken. Rare were the moments of tranquility during the earlier years. Where elder sister bathed in golden sunlight, younger brother preferred to play in the dirt. She tried hard; talent and laziness kept him barely afloat, a level at which he seemed to thrive. It was responsibility versus mischief that laced through the shouting and wars. Hubert better appreciated his daughter while Ethel found endless endearment in her son, though much effort was spent to obscure those lines. Such was the nature of things, for a time.

Tragedy struck with much-accursed abruptness in Bracken's ninth year. An untimely duel broke out between colleagues outside of the greenhouses where Ethel worked, and an errant spell blasted through the glass to inflict ultimately fatal injury. Densfeld family having long abandoned her, she passed with her three dearest folk around her bed. Like the plants she so adored, the remaining family paled and withered in the wake of that loss.

Sister at school and father spending extra time in the office, Bracken found himself starkly alone. But with a schnoz for trouble and pervasive sarcastic charm, he found a place in the nearby muggle town. Bloodied noses, hiding in shrubbery and colorful lies built his legacy - until it was his turn to be booted off to school. And, once old enough, baby brother Bracken was expected to work when at home.

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:
"What?" he sputtered, thick smoke spewing out from the part in his lips. Hell, Quidditch? If that wasn't the biggest waste of time! He knew it was precisely the reason his mum and dad had gotten together, the reason for his own existence, and he knew it well - she used to bring it up all the time, swapping her punch line for something new but always equally embarrassing with each telling.

Used to, before she, well, croaked. That was a rivalry thing, all that, Arrows and Wasps and that rubbish. A yellow and black banner once clashed with the blooming pots in his childhood bedroom, back when she was around, but once the diehard Wimbeldon Wasp fan was gone, the sport just kind of tasted like as if he were to turn the cigarette hanging out of his mouth around and slurp on the other end.

"Merlin," Bracken huffed, posture slumping even further in the same split second that the corner of his lip twitched upward. He wasn't really supposed to be smoking, given his age and policy and the rest of that rubbish that too often tugged his eyes in a sharpened circle, hence why he was hidden in a nook by the park, but could it be that his hiding spot all out in the open there combined with the no-damns-given attitude might not fully veil his presence in partaking in what some might find to be vaguely illicit activity from the likes of the little weasel Hurst?

"Look, Judy-" It was almost apologetic, the manner in which he considered the feisty specimen then. He wasn't really offended by the brashness of her approach, and he also put forth no effort in constructing the name with the face of John Hurst's sister correctly. "-Don't take this the wrong way, but I'd rather, like, shove a broomstick through my eye than sit this pretty derriere on it." Another drag stoked the coals in his lungs.

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friend recommended it after our previous site kind of died! Ha ha

* Anneka Ivanova

    (02/10/2018 at 00:24)
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and if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free
to those who ground me, take a message back from me
tell them how I am defying gravity