E L S E W H E R E C H I L D
CHARACTER INFORMATIONCharacter Name: Francisca Milada Mallow; prefers to be called any possible diminutive over that, particularly ‘Franca’ and ‘Cisca’.
(Um. Could my username please be changed to
Francisca Mallow to reflect that? Sorry! I am a capricious being.)
Gender: Female.
Age: 12/13.
Bloodline:Muggleborn, technically. (But raised like a Pureblood because her parents are both Squibs but her ancestors are all Purebloods?)
Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): Parents: Francis and Milada Mallow.
Current guardians: Boris and Angelika Mallow.
None currently played.
Residence: Romping about somewhere or other in England.
Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?Uh… no?
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason? Nope.
Please list any other characters you already have at the site:Nada. I’m new~
Biography: (100 words minimum.)The Mallows were something of a discrete family. They were perhaps best known for their predilection for doling out disownment like birthday gifts, complete with sumptuous stationery decorated with overly ornate words:
Dear __________________,Thank you for your time as a member of the great House of Mallow. Unfortunately, you have been disowned for the following reasons:
[ ]
Intimate relations with Muggles and/or Mudbloods[ ]
Opposing viewpoints[ ]
Irreconcilable differences[ ]
Posing a threat to the House of Mallow[ ]
Bringing great shame and disgrace upon the House of Mallow[ ]
Other: _____________________________We kindly ask that you no longer use the great name of Mallow. For the sake of posterity, please state your preferred surname here: ____________
Please fill out and return the attached documents by: ___/___/______.
Signature: ______________________
Thank you for your time.
(It was common practice amongst the disowned to, in subtle retaliation, change their surnames as little as possible. This was the case for such infamous cast-outs as Angus Mallowe and Charmaine Mallo.)
Perhaps it was cruel of the Mallows to do so, even hypocritical. (Indeed, the Mallow clan itself did not exist until Cearbhall Malloy IV fled to America in the 17th century upon his exile from Ireland.)
The Deserters, they were called. But such was tradition, and so the Mallows continued.
It was therefore quite understandable that patriarch Abner Mallow’s decision to officially declare his Squib of a son Francis as the new head of the family sparked a great deal of outrage. And it was, of course, perfectly reasonable of the new patriarch to pull his daughter out of Salem in these strenuous times and send her off to England, where such delicate matters would not worry her pretty little mind. Of course.
***
Francisca Milada Mallow was tired of politics. Pureblood politics were messy and complicated and she hated them. They dictated the inner workings of her family, insisted she adhere to all their finicky little rules, picked apart her blood status and questioned its purity. And now, politics were forcing her to leave behind everything.
Being immediately carted off across the Atlantic and placed under her Uncle Boris’ care upon returning home for the winter holidays was unexpected, to say the least. Less expected still was the news that
she would not be returning.
Cisca was to be pulled from her Salem classes without so much as a final
adieu.
Just for a little while, her mother had assured her, but Purebloods were a fickle lot and entirely too fond of their theatrics. It would likely be a while yet before the melodrama subsided and her parents’ paranoia waned enough to permit her return.
But for now, she had nothing but months of cold England weather to look forward to. Oh,
joy.
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:England was boring.
The week since her arrival had been nothing but rain, rain,
rain. It was a wonder anyone managed to crack a smile in this place, with those swirling dark clouds constantly hanging threateningly overhead… Though, it seemed, today the sun had at long last returned from its cowering; warm sunlight shone down from a bright sky for once.
Her trio of weird British-sounding cousins were ushering her about and introducing her to the area… Or, well, they were supposed to. Colette had been all huffy and crotchety until she spied some weird German book in a dubious-looking shop; they’d been unable to tear her attention away from her new finding since. Carlisle had disappeared at some point. (Probably noticed a pretty witch or two. Or a mirror.) Her eldest cousin Carmine was just weird. And more importantly,
scatter-brained. It was far too tempting to slip away while the young man was preoccupied with some strange train of thought.
And so she did.
The first place she decided to properly explore was the nearby park. It was a lovely place, filled with the cheery laughter of children playing under the rare sun. Three boys were in the midst of a game overhead, and she was content to watch despite the lack of explosions.
Hm. Their aerial game reminded her of a childhood urge to climb the highest tree she could find, just to say that she could. Her mother had never allowed it, claiming that doing so was unladylike and would only cause injuries. Well, her mother wasn’t here now. And this park had an awful lot of tall trees... Maybe she could –
“You!”At the call, Cisca dragged her gaze downward. The voice belonged to a younger girl with crossed arms and a frustrated expression; a child’s broomstick impaled the soil by her feet. Huh. The kid was tiny and blue-eyed and adorable in the way only babies and animals could pull off.
“Yeah, what?” Cisca couldn’t help but wonder what she had done to earn the ire of such a cute little child.
“… Do you want to play?”Oh. Cisca had only meant to linger for a few more moments; distrait though he was, Carmine was bound to notice her absence eventually, and she had precious little time left to properly explore and climb a decent tree. Yet the child
did look a tad lonely… (Or perhaps that was just Cisca; her friends remained in America, hundreds of miles away.)
“Sure, what do you want to play?”
OTHERHow did you find us?
A Google search in the middle of the night after going off on a weird tangent.
