E L S E W H E R E C H I L D
CHARACTER INFORMATIONCharacter Name: Scott Ambrose Flickinger
Gender: Male
Age: 16
Bloodline:Pureblood
Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): Gerald & Malia Flickinger, NPCs
Residence:London, UK
Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?No
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:Bracken Thomas
Biography: (100 words minimum.)At the Flickinger household there can be found a moving photograph of three children seated within the clutches of jolly old St. Nicholas: the eldest is combative and kicking; the youngest, a mere infant, is bawling; the middle child, a toddler, grins right at the camera. This is Scott Ambrose. He grew up weathering chaos with a good sense of humor, playing both sides of the coin as the antagonist and as the mediator.
A number of protections allowed him to do so, of course. The Flickinger name has history behind it, members dotted in the annals as consistent advocates for progress of the wizarding world and espousing pro-muggle stances in more recent times. Despite a well publicized passion for charity the family vault is in no hurting for fortune. Scotty’s mum has spent her adult career establishing a real estate company that specializes in the crossover between muggle and magic domains; their own home does not lack comfort. Neither does it lack love, though as with any family it can feel at a distance.
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:Eyes pulled wide as a borderline hostile command leveled at Scott Flckinger. The ruckus of it would annoy anyone, but accompanying that displeasure was the chocolate egg that had been balanced and spinning perfectly on the tip of his finger tumbling onto paved sidewalk, denting the foil. Not unlike this girl’s apparently thick noggin a few moments ago.
He was less than impressed with the local hooligan. Hard to get anywhere in life with that sort of tact. Plus, one sister was more than enough little girls to deal with. He liked to play - he loved to fly, really, more than he enjoyed animals (significant) or chocolate (moderate enjoyment), and certainly more than he liked to study (abysmal) - but little girls and strangers were not usually his cup of tea, and she made up both.
As a hand reached down for the damaged treat his throat cleared.
”Me? Oh heavens no.” Scotty eyed the amateur vessel which had ejected her, absently tossing and catching the egg. He thinks about giving it to her so she’ll leave him alone, but what did they always say about feeding stray cats…
”Think I have a friend up around the corner there who might stomach your training broom though.” If he could make it around the corner, he had very little intention of returning.
OTHERHow did you find us? Recommendation
