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Author Topic: Rosemary Wolffe || child  (Read 245 times)

Rosemary Wolffe

    (12/06/2019 at 19:44)
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E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

Character Name: Rosemary Naimh Wolffe

Gender: female

Age: 4 (24 May 1952)

Bloodline: Halfblood

Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): 
Irma and Edmund Wolffe, both played

Llanwellyn, Gwynnedshire, Wales

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

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
One of Irma and Edmund's children, part of the Scrivner family tree

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Clara 'n' co

Biography: (100 words minimum.)
Rosemary Wolffe was born on the 24th May 1952 to Irma Wolffe of WandS and Edmund Wolffe, currently Hogwarts librarian. Growing up, Rosie was an easy child to keep happy, easily distracted and easily entertained. Unfortunately, she was also easily bored, any toy she had held in her hand for longer than ten minutes could and would be hurled across the room and changes in mood were common. Raising her was a Exhausting with a capital E.

At ten months, Rosie was tottering around the house very precariously. Every obstacle she'd meet head on, and when it came to walking, usually head first. Running was met with shrieks, giggles and frequent tumbles, but she'd always push herself back up and try again, usually in pursuit of her older sisters.

Rosie was fast. The moment she'd conquered walking and running, she wouldn't stop, and her parents could hardly set her down for ten minutes before she was up and at it again, off in search of something new to do, or to her parents' horror, some random stranger to follow. Still, generally an obedient little girl, she'd always return when called, and often with a present (read: bit of rubbish from the floor) for them.

Fourteen months brought talking, with her first word being dog. Rosemary really wanted a dog. Once Rosemary could talk, she wouldn't stop, chattering about anything from the dog she wanted to the fairies she imagined saw in the garden. She developed a very overactive imagination, but everything she imagined was soon forgotten and scrapped for something new. The only thing she would never scrap would be how much she wanted a dog. Occasionally it would seem to disappear, unmentioned, but then she'd see a dog or one would be brought up in conversation and she'd be back at it.

In typical little kid fashion, Rosie's favourite word became 'why?' and anything that did anything was worthy of her questioning. She's clearly a very curious little girl, Rosemary has developed an unhealthy love of poking things she doesn't recognise. She can talk back to her parents, but is generally reasonable, give her an interesting(but not necessarily good) reason why her bedtime is when it is, or why she has to eat her greens and she'll do as she says.

What Rosemary's parents have noted as she's gotten older is that she's very overdramatic in everything she does. Shouting and screaming is far from uncommon, though easily calmed down.

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:
Godric park was the perfect place for a good adventure, and as Rosie tottered along, she wore a look of extreme satisfaction. Mummy and daddy had been abandoned, she was absolutely certain they hadn't seen her run off (probably), and now Rosie could do whatever she wanted.

And right now, what Rosie wanted, was to go flying like those three boys. She watched with wide eyes and an even wider mouth as they zipped past, clapping her hands together in excitement. Rosemary was going to be a quidditch player when she grew up. Yesterday it had been an auror and the day before a dragon tamer, but now she knew, now she saw. Clearly quidditch player was so much better.

And so she ran after them (and quite fast as well), waving one pudgy hand in the air.

"Can I play?" Rosie shouted. "Let me play!"

The boys were so high up she wasn't sure if they'd heard her, but she yelled anyway, little voice straining.


Rosemary turned around, startled.

"Do you want to play?"

Immediately her startled expression evapourated, replaced by a wide grin. She eyed the broom, not quite as cool as the older boys' ones but still cool, and nodded vigarously.


Her sisters would be so jealous!

How did you find us? Google

* Sylvia Renn

    (23/06/2019 at 02:36)
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you  /yōō, yə/ pronoun.
  a microscope through which I can see
  all the broken parts of me.