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Messages - Hera Conyngham

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Archived Applications / Hera Conyngham
« on: 31/12/2017 at 10:10 »




Application for Hogwarts School


→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.

Name: Hera Conyngham

Birthday: 31st of October

Hometown: Isle of Man

Bloodline: Halfblood

Magical Strength (pick one): Transfiguration

Magical Weakness (pick one): Charms

Year (pick two): Fourth, Fifth

Biography: From her very first days, Hera’s life had been one of proverbial masks and subtext. Of a lineage proud of high birth and magical blood. A long-lived line, traceable back through time periods in which men grew mutton-chop sideburns, when nobility ruled, when the concept of divorce lawyers was still but a twinkle in the Devil’s eye, and when the honourable Mr. Whats-his-name justly killed the Muggle hordes in the year wheneverhundred and sixty-three. Raise wineglass, salute, mark it on the family tree.

This was a Conynham’s pride. For most Conynghams.

Hera and her immediately family, however, were allowed no such pride. They were “Redcliffs”.

Hera Redcliff Conyngham grew up in the presence of cold, quiet, restrained luxury. Her parents of conservative values communicated clear love in a general sense but were rarely physically affectionate, and never explicitly inspirational or encouraging. It was an “of course” love between parents and child. But, despite ostensible politeness from extended family, it didn’t take many years into childhood before Hera became aware of the awkward bulk each pleasantry was spoken around. The presence of an elephant in the room.

Overheard arguments and unmuzzled disdain eventually named the beast.

“Redcliff”.

One of Hera’s great-grandparents had been a giant.

As far as inner-family politics were concerned, that branch of the family tree was locked in quarantine, separate from the rest, and marked with the middle name of “Redcliff” - a reference to the giant’s supposed clan or home area, Hera wasn’t sure - for everyone descended from the tainted blood, for twelve secret, shamed generations. This was the agreement in exchange for being allowed to remain in the tree.

Conynghams, but not Conynghams.

In truth, it was partly self-preservation on their part. No one could openly disavow the Redcliffs without leaking why. Now, with Hera appearing passably all-human, in the presence of no suspicions about such things, the elder Redcliff-Conynghams see a path to redemption.

(Special power application sent to admin for the family history)

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.

House Request: Slytherin

Personality: Socially speaking, Hera is a haughty traditionalist. Self-centered, and so mindful of her family’s history of using neglect as a weapon or bargaining chip that she unconsciously views the ability to enact isolationism as a form of power in itself. As a teenager, though, Hera still lacks much social control, which causes feelings of powerlessness in a broad sense. Lost power that she feels a need to reclaim via what small circles she can control. While not proactively aggressive, she is possessive and her various insecurities can draw out a zealous sense of survival. Self-preservation is Hera’s strongest impulse.

Appearance:
Pale skinned and dark-haired. Hera is tall for her age, generally slender but broad-shouldered. Wide eyes, positioned slightly further apart from the bridge of the nose than is usually seen, and lady-like in posture. She could almost be believed to have been constructed to have specific "exotic, modelesque" physical properties... All qualities that, in Hera's mind, mark her as too different from what nature might expect from a girl.


→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character. Remember, you can only roleplay your own character's actions, not Evangeline's or Hugh's.

Option I:

The dungeons were a favoured loitering area for older students - like Hera, a grown-up really - because non-Slytherin children tended to avoid the space for fear of Prefects, or even more silly bogeymen.

Truthfully, some of its hallways smelled rancid and the lighting failed to show off one’s shoes. But it did show off earrings well. She had long since resigned herself to the reality that schooling in an actual castle was less fairytale fantasy and more the ultimate manifestation of an old person's creepy, smelly home.

The old people had a nice flower garden though.

Hera stood beside a wall with another girl. A housemate, facetious but pliable. And, wonderfully, the girl listened more than she talked. 

"H-h-hello?" A voice echoed in the dark.

Hera twisted her shoulders to look around behind her. Further down the corridor was a small blonde girl. Probably a lost first year. Children, thought Hera, quickly becoming her grandmother, should keep to their toy boxes.

"Hello! Is Emma Birch here?"

Conyngham rolled her eyes and returned her attention back to the girl beside her. "So, anyway," she said, "back to me."


→ ABOUT YOU.

Please list any characters you have  on the site (current and previous): N/A

How did you find us?: I’m a witch

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Elsewhere Accepted / Hera Conyngham - Elsewhere Child
« on: 05/11/2017 at 11:51 »
E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Hera Redcliff Conyngham

Gender: Female

Age: 14

Bloodline: Halfblood

Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): 
NPCs - Boreas and Macha

Residence: One of the Conyngham-owned townhouses, London

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)? No, thanks.

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: N/A. None.

Biography: (100 words minimum.)
Hera Redcliff Conyngham grew up in the presence of cold, quiet, restrained luxury. Her parents of conservative values communicated clear love in a general sense but were rarely physically affectionate, and never explicitly inspirational or encouraging. It was an “of course” love between parents and child. Things had been even more distant, at best, when it came to extended family.

Hera is immediately descended from a familial branch that was almost ousted from the tree as a whole for the partnership decisions of an ancestor.

Being almost completely uninterested in political details as a topic, at least as they relate to her, she’s mostly ignorant of the broader cultural implications of her line of descent in society and has, instead, grown up internalising these whispered issues more as body image issues in general. A recurring doubt about something being ugly about herself, down to the blood.

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:
Hera’s mother had a saying she would often recite, either to celebrate the good moments of life or to bolster hope in the bad ones. ‘The sun is yellow, the grass is green, God’s in Heaven: all’s right with the world.’ Hera wasn’t sure whether her current day stood as a cause for celebration or for hope but she said it to herself anyway. As the young teen’s eyes swept over the crowd’s faces, she felt a glow of comfort from being surrounded by so many pretty, clearly quality, people in the street, even for a village.

Except the young man on the corner, and what appeared to be his girlfriend. They seemed of low birth.

Oooh, a hat shop!...

Hera exited back onto the street, a share of money, for lunch and one of the day’s needed items, short. Surely lunch was less important on such a delicious day though. With a smile and a skip, she found her way inside Godric Park and picked a clear spot from which to model her new purchase. The young teen tilted her head in a few directions, hoping to block the sun’s bright face with her hat. Unfortunately, she had purchased a pillbox.

Three silhouettes streamed over the sun.

"You!" A young voice of demand rang out.

A small girl stood, with both arms folded, and what looked like a training broom wedged into the dirt. "Do you want to play?"

It’s strange, thought Hera, in an anciently-cantankerous-beyond-her-years monologue, that children approach complete strangers for fun these days. She rolled her head back and opened her mouth slowly in mock consideration before decisively responding. "No. Not at all."


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