E L S E W H E R E C H I L D
CHARACTER INFORMATIONCharacter Name: Romera 'Remy' St. Oswald
Gender: Female
Age: Fifteen (13 December 1952)
Bloodline: Pureblood
Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): Estefania Diaz (NPC)
Poseidon St. Oswald (Played)
Residence: Formerly: Santa Marta, Colombia
Currently: London, England
Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?N/A
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:Lily McCormick and Co
Biography: (100 words minimum.)Romera Estefania St. Oswald grew up in Santa Marta, Colombia in a town that never quite felt like home. It was in the heart of the tourism hot spot. People came and went but Remy and her mother stayed in place. The tourist came for adventure, scenery and excitement and Estefania and Remy just tried to survive it all.
They did well, at least from Remy’s perspective. They weren’t the wealthiest or the best well known, but she got just about everything she wanted. There was a lot that went on behind the scenes that Estefania sheltered her daughter from, but they lived in a nice little house within a tight knit community.
There was too much movement around them to feel like home to Remy, but when her mother got sick, she realized the only tether she had to Santa Marta lived within Estefania. The moment that tether was snipped, Remy floated around in space for a little while. She decorated her mother’s grave with the brightest flowers she could find.
And then she left.
With nothing but a backpack of her belongings, she used the remaining saving Estefania had to travel to England. She needed to find someone.
Poseidon St. Oswald was a mystery to her. She had his last name. But all she knew about him was that he was a wizard that traveled to Santa Marta some 15 years ago on a business trip, leaving a little piece of himself with Estefania before he went on his way again.
She had nothing left in Colombia. Maybe it was time to try something new. At least meet her father and see if he was worth her time. If not she would just have to move on. She could be like the tourists that passed through her home.
For once, Remy would be the one in motion.
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:Even the warmer days were colder than the cool season of her former home. It was strange. Like the sun had less power here. She didn’t hate it, but she did miss the heat sometimes.
Remy was sulking at the park. It was full of families. Fathers playing with their sons. Mothers doting over their daughters. They hurt the worst. The mothers. It had her missing her own even more.
But there was nothing she could do about that now. She had
Poseidon now and–
”You!”
Remy looked up from her trance, a small frown creasing her brow. The little girl shouted her way with a sense of entitlement. Or at least that was the way Remy saw it.
(--maybe it was just the bitterness sinking into her skin–)
“What?” she said, trying to keep the poison off her tongue.
Did she want to play? Not really. Not on that broken little broomstick that wouldn’t even be useful for sweeping let alone flying.
“Not on that,” she eyed the broomstick critically, “What else you got, then?”
OTHERHow did you find us?
Google
