E L S E W H E R E C H I L D
CHARACTER INFORMATIONCharacter Name: Peter Winchester
Gender: Male
Age: 16 (DOB: January 4, 1949)
Bloodline: Pureblood
Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): Peter will soon be living with his biological grandmother (NPC) while he slowly adjusts to life with his real family; including his (very played) brother, professor Tim Winchester.
Residence:Back in Britain, at the Winchester mansion
Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?Nope
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:Freja Ward, Arthur Ward, Gillian Blackwood
Biography: (100 words minimum.)Born as the son of George and Dorothy, and younger brother of Timothy, the boy spent the first five months of his life with the name Peter Winchester until he was taken from his pram in a park by a stranger while older brother Tim was too busy playing to watch. The stranger was Kent Rowardy, a wizard who was back in Britain to visit his extended family. Kent saw the baby, alone and unsupervised, after he and his wife had recently lost their own child to an illness. He took little Peter in a self-loathing desperate panic.
Now committed to the act, Kent lied to his wife, Ariel, by telling her that he’d found the baby abandoned in order to pacify any guilt she was feeling in accepting the boy into their lives. The lie worked, and both Rowardys enjoyed only the love they had for their new son rather than the sorrow of how he came to be with them over anybody else. The three of them soon went back to Denmark where they lived near Ariel’s family.
The name Peter was forgotten outside of the Winchester home. The Rowardys named their son Arne — which meant eagle (derived from the Old Norse word for the animal, Ǫrn) — for his divine intervention-like flight into their lives. Arne has grown up as an average young Danish wizard; making friends, attending Gokstad, and completely unaware of his origins. Until recently.
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:Godric Park.
Apparently the place was named after some scarlet pantsed English dude, who helped make the big magic school in that part of the world. Along with three other people who also had names like comic book characters. Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Sue Storm, and Bruce Banner. Supposedly each section, or “house” at their Hogwarts school was named after one of its old founders.
The sections of Gokstad were named after literal gods.
Was that all Britain was going to be? A lesser, fake version of everything he’d had before coming? Like having to give away a pet horse just to be given a kid’s wonky drawing of one instead, as if it was just as good. At least he was finally allowed outside with some space to himself now.
And the day looked good. Britain had really shit weather, even on the days when it wasn’t that different from Denmark. There it was again. A shit version of the same thing.
He wanted to go home.
"You!"
The word rang out like a command. Peter turned to where it had come from and saw a young girl standing nearby looking fit to burst. A relatable image.
"...Do you want to play?"
He considered the question for a second or two but felt nothing on the topic either way. Just tiredness. Peter shook his head. “No, not really.”OTHERHow did you find us?
I've been here a long time but it was a random Google search that lead me to the site
