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Author Topic: Elsewhere Child: Ruth Beatrice Williams  (Read 102 times)

Ruth B. Williams

    (10/05/2019 at 17:15)
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E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Ruth Beatrice Williams

Gender: Female

Age: 10

Bloodline: MuggleBorn

Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?):
Orphaned, Charles & Patricia Williams, both deceased. Not played by other characters

Residence:
Muggle London Orphanage (still to be transferred to a Magically inclined one).

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?
No. (Aside from Muggle Orphanage)

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:
None.

Biography: Born on January 13th, 1945, Ruth Beatrice Williams was a healthy baby at eight pounds and eleven ounces. Her father, Charles was away fighting the Nazi’s at the time of her birth in the name of his King Albert Frederick Arthur George VI. Charles was enlisted in the British empire’s ground forces. Unfortunately, he was taken captive in April of 1944 and put to death in one of the few remaining German extermination camps for attempting to rally fellow POW’s to overthrow their jailors. Patricia Williams an Army Corps nurse from America had served briefly with Charles. The two, despite strict regulations, had an intimate relationship and resulted in a two-way ticket for her home to deliver Ruth, and back. (As the military needed all the front line nurses they could get). Leaving the newborn with distant relatives that had fled England during the bombing, Patricia returned to the front and cared for what wounded that she could, only to die briefly before the end of the war in 1945, in a military hospital that had been bombed by the Nazi’s. 
In March 1950, Ruth returned to London at the age of five, shortly before the Korean War and as such her new found relatives began to rebuild their lives. However, such could not be said for Ruth, although her adopted family had seen fit to buy her a ticket, they had not desired her continued company or the burden of raising an additional child for any longer. As such she was swiftly placed in the overburdened care of one of many orphanages for children that had become such due to the war.
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:
Whilst flowers baked under the sizzling summer sun, and youths were positively teeming out from their homes in effort to enjoy the weather, a young girl of nearly eleven sat aloof with a book in hand and a smile on her face. About her alcove, she thought not a single soul stirred, for she had expressly sought out locations such as these to gain isolation from the miniature marauders of her orphanage that tormented her daily. Such was her misconception though, swaddled in a blanket of the most divine tall tales of magical swords, fantastical kingdoms and knights venturing on the most epic of quests, Ruth was swiftly alerted to the reality that her treasured cove was no longer quite deserted.
“You!”

The word clashed upon her sensitive nerves like an accusation, and without warning her world of fantasy was replaced by one of apprehension and anxiety. Fearing that she had once again been caught neglecting her fellow “brothers and sisters” during recreation time, she stuffed the book under her shirt in a manner that would indicate she was attempting to secret the item away. Determined to hide from any approaching authoritarian gazes or that of her surrogate “family”, that knew she’d lost her reading privileges for the week and wished to tattle on her for possible reward.
Fresh sweat formed on her brow as Ruth registered the figure before her. She was no monstrous adult or demonic sibling that wished to throw her swiftly under a witches sled for a Turkish delight. In fact It became quickly apparent that the girl was not a part of her orphanage, due to the quality of her clothing. That and secondly because of the practice broom on her side, that most in her orphanage would’ve given a pinky toe or at least their left thumb to get their hands on… It may not have been a real one, but plenty of kids that had nothing most of their lives fought for anything of substance such as this. With a sigh of relief, Ruth removed the book from under her shirt, carefully checking the pages to ensure she hadn’t ripped or folded any in the process of concealing in such a hurry.
Then flipping back to the page she had been reading before, Ruth managed to find her place just in time to have her train of thought derailed once more.
”Do you want to play?”
Taking a deep breath, Ruth rubbed the bridge of her nose briefly and then retired her desire for literature by placing a makeshift bookmark that she had made out of a red ribbon. One that she had… ahem* “procured” several winters ago from a mall during a holiday excursion. It was shiny, bright, and smooth. Possibly the best gift she’d ever been given, after finding that most donators assumed she wanted dolls, clothes or food. Closing the tome, Ruth placed it firmly within a tattered old bag and hid said bag inside the alcove she’d just been sitting in, before she addressed the girl affront her.
“Sure, what are we playing?” she inquired, thinking she may impress upon the girl before too long, to let her have a go on the practice broom. Or perhaps inquire as to her familial situation and whether or not they had access a cache of books.
Orphanages really didn’t have a number of books to begin with, the fact that a fantasy book had survived the Nazi book burnings, had been a miracle in and of itself. With any luck, this girl could be a princess that had strayed from Buckingham palace, quite possibly here on vacation that was in need of a sister, or at the very least someone to play with. All Ruth knew, was as long as she got her own room, received three meals a day and had access to a moderate amount of written works, she would bear her teeth in an elated manner that would make Merlin’s mustache curl at both ends so that he might twist the tips of it menacingly.
Besides, it had been sometime since anyone had genuinely offered to play with her without any ulterior motives or because they had no other options. Had she only been paying attention and not nose deep within her own world when they’d met, she would have at least known that she was a last resort and purely in the right place at the right time. But one would hope that if the boys simply did not return, they would have fun and possibly get to know one another better.


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* Sylvia Renn

    (17/05/2019 at 23:03)
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Accepted!
you  /yōō, yə/ pronoun.
  a microscope through which I can see
  all the broken parts of me.

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