Mar. 12th, 2017 12:01 am
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hisshissGENERAL
NAME: Robin Maverick Youngblood.
NICKNAMES: Rob, Wing, Blood, some fuckin' asshole.
AGE/DOB: 18/December 25.
BLOOD STATUS: Halfblood's the technical term for it. There's Magic and Muggle and Squib all mixed up in there.
GENDER/PRONOUNS: Male, he/him.
SEXUALITY: Almost definitely asexual aromantic. There's a very small possibility he's gray-aro, but the likelihood of him ever having an actual romantic relationship is so small it's not even all that worth considering.
HOMETOWN: Youngblood Compound, outside Point Pleasant, West Virginia. If the Youngbloods had their own way, it would be sovereign soil. They must not be given their own way.
CONCEPT: Could probably survive the apocalypse, can't survive a D&D campaign.
PHYSICAL
APPEARANCE: He's a little tall, kind of muscular from probably just like climbing trees everywhere he goes, all pale and freckled and crisscrossed with scars from just being a pale ginger kid who also climbed trees and played Compound Rule Quodpot. He has a particularly nice scar on his chest from playing with their English Mastiff/Rottweiler mix, Jolly, and another he says is from fighting a bear that's really just from an emergency appendectomy.
In uniform, he pretty much always leaves something out or off, just to be a punk. Usually it's the vest or the tie, sometimes it's the shoes, just to see how much anyone actually cares about dress code. Out of uniform, he's jeans and a t-shirt, and nearly every t-shirt is for some stupid nerd shit.
EMBARRASSING PICTURES:
Unfortunate blond phase (no no we need more)
Unfortunate fedora phase
Unfortunate long hair phase
Unfortunate childhood phase
HEIGHT: 5'11"
PB: Cameron Monaghan.
PERSONALITY
LIKES: American Spirits, SyFy original movies, all the Star Wars movies (no really all of them) but especially Revenge of the Sith (I know) because the lightsaber battles are the best (I KNOW), Star Trek: Voyager, Nightwing, Coors Lite, Darkwing Duck, aliens, searching for the Truth, monthly bonding activities apparently.
DISLIKES: Sunburns, watching sports, obeying authority figures, being seen obeying authority figures, Superman, believing "official explanation" bullshit.
PERSONALITY:
Robin was raised not to trust the government. That was the very first thing his dad taught all his kids. Anything that ever got them put on some government list—like registering their births, sending them off to school, taking Robin to the hospital when his appendix ruptured—was his mother’s doing. Because there’s living on a compound surrounded by guns and burying your money in the backyard crazy, and there’s letting your kids die because you think someone else is trying to kill them first crazy, and they are only allowed the first one apparently. Robin doesn’t believe everything that comes out of Doc’s mouth (that would be ignoring his first rule, “Question everything,” in favor of his second rule, “Stop asking questions and listen to me, dammit.”), but there are things that stick with him. Ancient aliens? Well that’s just fact. The Illuminati? Maybe it's not under that name, but there are definitely rich ruling families in this country. Robin is not dumb, or crazy, or blind to the myriad of plot holes and simple explanations in every conspiracy theory, but he also sees his dad’s point about the government. Maybe not every conspiracy theory is on point, but there are lots of reasons not to trust the men in charge.
In general, Robin just doesn’t trust easily. Like, at all. It’s not just the government, it’s not just a desire to buck authority, he just does not see a reason to trust anyone he’s known for under three years. And usually, by the end of the third year, he’s seen enough reasons not to trust you. He’s not mean about it, he doesn’t call people out for trying to screw him over, but he won’t rely on someone else, he won’t ask them for favors, he won’t let someone whose mind and motives he does not know or trust have any control over his fate.
Robin is intense. That’s the nice word for it. Another word might be passionate. Or focused. Or obsessive. He doesn’t half ass his hobbies or his interests, he lets them swallow him whole, sucking him into playing League of Legends or Minecraft for 10+ hours, reading all the comic books that ever featured the Flash, and dissecting every minor difference between the theatrical and remastered Star Wars releases. It’s not just sci-fi and other assorted fandoms that get this treatment though, because the subjects that tickle his fancy get it too. It may not always show on his report card, but he will study his ass off for those classes.
His enthusiasm might go a little, um, far sometimes. Just, like, a little. And by a little, I mean a lot. If you’re playing freeze tag, he might knock your teeth out. In LARP, he's ready to chop of the head of every innocent bard he stumbles upon. If it’s a D&D campaign, he’ll insist every NPC they meet could be evil, and try to burn every one with a magic missile or fireball, annoying pretty much everyone in the party. This is not entirely on accident; Robin likes messing with others, stirring people up and giggling at their reactions or making fun of them for daring to have emotions. He’s put a lot of work into keeping his emotions and sensitivities bottled up, and whenever someone else reveals just how bad they are at that same thing, he’ll pounce. Not necessarily to be mean, but just to get there first and prove that he knows emotions are for pussies and he is definitely not one of them.
Though he’s intense, and he doesn’t trust easily, and he can seem like he’s really full of himself sometimes, Robin does not tend to direct that energy toward other people. He can come off as rude, he teases the hell out of his friends, and he makes a lot of jokes that seem callous or mean spirited, but he's less of a troll and more of a rascal. And kind of a dick. But, really, for the most part, Robin is of the “you do you” mentality. As long as someone doesn’t make something his problem, then it is most definitely not his problem. The issue with that comes in when he expects everyone else to be this way. He is totally his father’s son, and he does not enjoy other people tromping on into his business, shoving their nose in there, and telling him that he’s doing it wrong or that this is against school rules. He doesn't break school rules just because (okay, sometimes just because), but sometimes they don't make sense, and if they don't make sense, why should he follow them? Because some sophomore with a shiny badge is gonna take away five imaginary points? Not exactly a threat.
Robin has an easy confidence about him. He definitely has his insecurities about school and whether or not he’s actually a moron, but he keeps that nice and buried, so he’s pretty sure it’s obvious he’s awesome. And the older he gets (he’s almost 18 now, which is super old and mature), the less he finds himself even caring whether or not other people find him awesome. Uh, he’s badass as hell, so it’s your damn loss if you don’t see that. Plus, he is actually kind of badass—not as badass as, like, Ms. Lilywhite (yet), but he could survive in the woods longer than (he’s sure) anyone else in this school. He doesn’t need to be in Outdoor Exploration or anything to be able to pick out all the edible berries, find water sources, set a snare, and hole up for days on end. He’s got the money and the magical ability to, say, Apparate out of the woods and sleep in a hotel with WiFi, but he is legitimately the guy you want by your side if shit goes down and the Four Horsemen show up on your doorstep. I mean, if you want to stay alive that is. You might not actually like spending the rest of time with him.
HISTORY
FAMILY MEMBERS:
Father - "Doc" Youngblood, born Stanford Robinson in Olympus, TN. He doesn't talk about his past or the amount of magic blood in him.
Mother - Shawna (Cash) Youngblood, Muggleborn. The secret brains of the operation. She’s the only reason they’ve ever even paid taxes.
Brothers - Sean Cash Youngblood (21), Quentin Youngblood (14, Coppertale freshman)
HISTORY:
Robin Youngblood was not born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Like most of the families in their little town, the Youngbloods didn't have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of. They were outstripping their income two-to-one just trying to keep their kids fed and clothed—and, like most of the families in their little town, theirs just kept growing, and at the most inconvenient of times. When Robin was born on Christmas day, Doc Youngblood knew that between his unemployment check and food stamps, there was no way in hell they were gonna be able to eat, pay their mortgage, and get all the shit babies need. They needed money. He needed a job.
But Doc had next to no marketable skills. In a No-Maj town, he might as well have no education, and in a No-Maj town with no jobs, he might as well just make up his own damn job.
Which is exactly what he did. With the tenacity of a man who wanted to retire young, Doc designed, patented, and marketed a rifle scope he’d been fiddling with for over a decade. By the time baby Quentin hit his first birthday, the Youngbloods had made their first million.
It seemed like the good fortune of the Youngblood clan would be to the benefit of the entire community of Point Pleasant—a local business that actually made money meant jobs, an economy boost, maybe even donations for the school or church from a generous business owner who wanted to give back to his community. Too bad Doc didn’t want to give back to the community that had helped him only so far as to forcing him to pull himself up by his own goddamn bootstraps. Instead, he crushed the vain hopes and dreams of the town by buying up cheap land, building walls around it, ordering supplies in bulk from way the hell out of state, and turning his home into a self-sustaining compound. Because he was never going to rely on another person ever again.
Robin and his brothers started out homeschooled. Doc, determined not to rely on someone else to give his kids a useless education, kept them at home unless they were out hunting or fishing or doing something real with their hands. Shawna, their mother, taught them how to write their names and add 2+2, and what the hell a Hidebehind is and why you should actually be afraid of one. And while she was teaching them that, the Youngbloods got satellite TV and internet installed. Which was just a frigging wonder to the little Youngbloods, who (having the benefit of being very young and being faced with new technology) took less than a day to outsmart any parental controls Shawna tried to put on either of those things.
It was TV and the internet that bore the brunt of the blame when Robin’s academic progress faltered. He wasn’t an unintelligent kid, but he was stubbornly apathetic, always coming up with some excuse not to read something or not doing the work set for him, and Shawna didn’t think she had the patience or teaching prowess to win him back over the world of academia. Doc suggested just hiring someone else to come teach these damn kids, but Shawna also didn’t want her kids turning into the weird, unsocialized home school kids who grew up on a compound. So, ignoring the bluster, she did some research and told her husband the kids were going to a magic middle school she found down in Georgia.
Robin lasted a full two years before getting yanked from that school. Not that it wasn’t good for him, or that he wasn’t succeeding, or that he didn’t enjoy it; all he did was get sick. For a few days, Robin had been feeling a stabbing pain in his side, and for a few days, he had been stubbornly walking it off. It wasn’t until they were on a field trip that he even acknowledged it, and that was because he threw up, then collapsed in the middle of the museum.
It looked a lot more dramatic than it actually was, and that was the problem. The museum-going Muggles crowded around him, calling an ambulance before his teachers even had a moment to realize what kid had gone missing. Knowing it would look really fucking suspicious if they took this kid out of the ambulance and said they were talking him to a different hospital, the school decided to accompany Robin to the hospital and try to figure it out from there. But then the hospital said his appendix had ruptured and they needed to get him into surgery, and no one was really doing a particularly good job of thinking on their feet, and when they called his mother to get parental consent for the surgery, she rolled with it. She knew appendectomies weren’t exactly that big of a deal, and that trying to get him out of there and into a magic hospital would be more trouble than it was honestly worth.
Shawna was okay with it. Doc was pissed.
“You’re tellin’ me that my kid nearly DIES in goddamn public and they cart him off to some NO-MAJ HOSPITAL?” he yelled at some point in his several-minute rant to the school board. “How the hell you gonna tell me you folks didn’t even notice his guts were all twisted up when you’re with ‘em eight hours a goddamn day?”
Without talking to his wife, Doc pulled his kids (and his tuition checks) from their school, and reestablished the Youngblood home school. He decided his kids were gonna learn what damn well MATTERED in life now, like how to stalk, catch, and cook your dinner using just a Swiss army knife. And it didn’t matter if they got a great education, because they were all gonna work for the family company, weren’t they? Of course they were!
But that wasn’t what Robin wanted. He had gotten off the compound, and he didn’t want to go back; no one else at home shared his interests in shitty anime and comic books and comic book movies and computer games with clunky graphics. So it wasn’t a complete coincidence that Gooseberry sent the Youngbloods an informational packet. And when Doc glanced at the glossy cover, snorted, and said, “Like I’m gonna let some pretentious, showboaty school run by Mormons dumb down MY kids,” Robin wasn't about to let the conversation end there.
Gooseberry was an adjustment for Robin. No TV, no internet, no fast food, no…wait, no parental supervision? Okay, he could get used to this. He just also had to adjust to higher expectations, and failing to achieve those expectations sometimes. A lot of the time. He had to manage his own time, balance his interests with schoolwork, and Christ Almighty, it was hard as hell sometimes being anything other than a shitty student. But it forced Robin to adapt and problem solve and never needing to ask anyone for help.
SCHOOL
YEAR: Senior.
HOUSE: Coppertale.
SORTING: Robin has a casual "fuck you, I do what I want" confidence, like he doesn't really need you to validate his self worth. He has his insecurities, because he's a goddamn teenager they all have insecurities, but they're pretty well buried. He's not much of a leader (his motivational style has been described as "apathetic" and "kind of pissy" and "absent that day"), but that doesn't make him a follower, because Robin also hates other people trying to boss him around.
When he went into the cave, the emblems were all talking so excitedly, because he was the very last student of the year, and they had this bet going to see who would snag him. They all started giving what seemed like long, eloquent arguments, and Robin had no patience for that bullshit. The fox latched onto this immediately, and slyly mentioned that he could stop all the yammering right now if he said Coppertale. Which Robin had to admit was probably the best argument he was going to hear all day. "Yep, yeah, we can all stop now," he said, cutting off the bear, "I pick this guy."
WAND: Blackthorn, phoenix feather core, 11.5". Robin's pretty sure it has a mind of its own.
FAMILIAR: Corn snake named Virgil. He's sensitive. Robin is working on his self confidence.
CLASSES:
Core: Charms, Potions, Transfiguration.
Elective: Defense Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy.
Advanced Study: Occlumency.
SENIOR PROJECT:
Robin currently has three ideas:
1. A duelling demonstration, which is what he really wants to do, but what he really needs for that is someone to duel against.
2. Investigate the Anonymous Writer. He actually has no personal beef with the posts, he just wants to be an Auror or Hitwizard* after school, and thinks this is a good mystery to start on.
3. Emergency Plan C Mode, piggybacking on a friend or roommate's project at the last minute.
* You may be saying to yourself, "Auror? Hitwizard? Doesn't this kid realize that means working for the government, which he admits to not trusting? And enforcing laws he probably doesn't even follow himself?" And the answer is no, he does not. It's going to be a great surprise, don't spoil it.
ACADEMIC PERFORMANCE:
Robin struggles with reading and writing. It’s not because he’s not smart—not by a long shot—but because he probably has an undiagnosed learning disability, and also kind of nearsighted but his dad doesn't see the need for eye doctors. His written exams are a mess, his essays come back to him soaked in red ink, and his notes, my god, his notes. The less said about the cramped, scribbled nonsense that is his notes, the better. He acts like he’s okay with it—he makes jokes about how he can’t read (“Aw, we didn’t even have books back where I came from, just pictures.”) and that he gets cheerleaders to do his homework for him because literally everyone is better at it than him—but he’s actually pretty sensitive about it. It makes him feel kind of stupid that he can get a D on the first paper of the year, no matter how much he studies, because he just cannot get his words down in a proper goddamn order.
But if there’s a practical portion to the class, Robin kills it. Turns out he did actually understand what the teacher was saying (or at least he made sure he understood it later), he just had to get there in his own, meandering way. Some of the teachers noticed this and tried to (subtly, careful not to sting the pride of a teenage boy) help him out, by moving him to the front of the class so he can see the board better, maybe not correcting every little spelling error in his essays, allowing a retake of an exam or two. Others have decided, instead, to push him. Robin appreciates the help, but he responds better to the pushing.
Because of this, Robin’s favorite class is Defense Against the Dark Arts. It wasn’t exactly flattering last year when Ms. Lilywhite told him he might not be able to handle the coursework in senior level DADA, but it made him try. It made him want to prove to her that he could handle anything and he wasn't stupid (not that she said that, but he sure as hell felt it). It also made him finally hire a tutor just to help him write his damn essays.
EXTRACURRICULARS: Duelling & Fencing (he's more into the duelling weeks, but he's down with learning melee skills). Archery. Gaming. LARP. His LARP character is Digdug Scrumbuggle, an orc berserker who runs around shirtless and painted up, swinging (foam, dear god I hope they’re made of foam) axes in either hand.