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Post by Richard Myron Woods-Knox on Feb 11, 2021 13:14:03 GMT -7
richard myron WOODS-KNOX
WAND 12", cedar wood with a thunderbird tail feather core.
APPEARANCE for the most part, richie looks a lot like his playby. though he is fairly tall at just under 6' and growing. a lanky figure with pale skin and angular bones. his hair a sandy, dirty brown that often hangs in disarray. before he had fallen in to a coma, richie had often worried about his appearance and how it could be perceived. in the aftermath, his mind is far more occupied in catching up and dissecting social interactions. his left hand is marred with faded scarring from the collision. as well as a silver, jagged incision behind his right ear where he had muggle surgery on his brain. he is very self conscious of both. | pronunciation rit-cha-rd nickname richie, rich, dick, dicky age & birthday 17 10/10/2009 gender & pronouns he/him blood status half-blood sexuality questioning face claim alex lawther | |||||||||||||||||||||||
PERSONALITY richie is ambitious in the way that he is always fighting to outdo himself. he is not terribly competitive with other people, but he hates the idea of failing his own expectations. after the accident, he has a short attention span and an even shorter temper. when he feels to do something he takes it quite personally and can be seen to explode in to a rage, where his magic can become somewhat erratic. prone to staring off in to the middle distance, he can appear inattentive and ignorant, but that is not the case. richie loves to learn and be taught, he is always eager to be told something and welcomes knowledge from others. however, he does not take kindly to personal criticisms, especially when it comes to the every-day things he is still learning to complete after his recovery. introspective, and often found with his nose in a book, he may appear like your stereotypical ravenclaw. however, some have said that upon his return, he doesn't fit there the way he did before. having been a witty, enthusiastic boy who often got himself in trouble for correcting professors. though his thirst for knowledge has only improved, he has garnered a cold, quiet honesty to his speech. oftentimes, richie can be caught saying something harsh and blunt, though he does not realise he is doing so. stuttering around an observation he'd have been better keeping to himself. richie has become socially awkward and a little bit odd, but he is still a boy with a voracious appetite for magic and how it ticks. with a desire to simply live his life and make up for time lost, though he has grown to doubt himself tremendously. ORIGIN & RELATIONS london, england Aya Knox - mother, pureblood, healer Myron Knox - father, muggle, deceased (2022) @dana - sister, guardian Kara Woods-Knox - twin, 12 at time of death (2022) HISTORY Is it true what they say, that when you are a twin, you are one half of a whole? Richard Myron Woods-Knox was the controversial third child of American witch Aya Woods and Scottish muggle Myron Knox. Though a twin, they said that Richard was quite stubborn about being born and clung to the inside of his mother, in no hurry to vacate the premises. His twin sister Kara was born a whole three hours before Richard. She never let him live it down. Mummy’s boy this and mummy’s boy that. They were a bickering pair, never far apart but always battling about something trivial. It didn’t help that the two were considered a single entity. Dressed the same, bought the same toys at every birthday. Sometimes, Richard wondered if his parents even knew he existed. They were always fighting around that time. About the way the children were raised, about trivial little things. Richard’s memories of his parents are all slashed in black and white. Always on opposite sides. During those early years, none of the Knox children knew about their mother’s origins. At show and tell, Richard talked about his mummy the ‘doctor’. And nobody ever corrected him until his older sister Dana received her letter to Hogwarts. Suddenly, the life they all thought they knew was shattered. His mummy wasn’t a doctor she was a magical ‘healer’. His father’s disapproval oozing out of his very pores when all the children were sat down and individually told. Back then, in some way, Richard knew his family was special. The nights spent as an infant with his mum under a blanket, watching while she shushed him and a warm, blue light lit the space and lulled him into a soft sleep. The way nothing every broke in the home, everything smashed could be fixed in ‘a jiffy!’. They didn’t explain in depth, for his father didn’t think it was wise, but they understood that their sister would be going away to school from then on. She would not be progressing from her standard primary school to the grammar school the Knox’s had planned to send her to. While Dana was gone, Richard missed her dearly. She was perhaps the only Knox that actually paid proper attention to him. Letting him stay up past curfew watching old horror movies with her, hiding behind her blanket. And at times, when his twin sisters company became oppressive, sleeping curled up at the side of her bed. Dana had always had a very calming effect on Richard. In her absence, their parents fought with a renowned vengeance. They fought about magic, about the children knowing the truth. They fought about Dana attending Hogwarts and whether Richard and Kara would join her someday. Kara would huddle away, sleeping in bed with her brother to cry crescent moons into his pillows. Richard would sneak out of bed and hide at the top of the stairs, listening as his mother threw things across the room with her wand. As his father called it reckless and dangerous for his children to meddle with such an odd world. That he wanted their lives to be ‘normal’. Richard resented him for that, even as a boy. Richard was the first of the twins to display a tendency for magic. His quiet, cold temper rising one afternoon and frying every bulb in the Knox home. His father was forced to make his peace with the fact that he had two magical children. He received his Hogwarts letter not six months later. Elated that he would be attending the prestigious school he’d spent years nipping Dana’s brain about. He’d spent most of his former years stealing her textbooks when she was home. Hiding under her bed with a torch and an insatiable appetite as he poured over A History of Magic. Over books about cauldrons and duelling clubs. Wizarding chess, where the pieces moved of their own accord. Time and time again Richard’s arm was yanked as his father shouted bloody murder at him, forbidding him from meddling in topics he did not understand. Richard continued to do it anyway. And eventually, it paid off, as he was invited to attend the same school as Dana. Kara was far more tentative, much to Richard’s chagrin. They had spent so much of their childhood together; it was odd to find an interest the two of them did not attempt to share. But this was not something Richard was willing to sacrifice, for the benefit of symmetry. Kara had always been a loud, boisterous child, but as tensions in the family grew and a line was drawn between everything magical and muggle, she began to withdraw. Though she did not display early signs of magical abilities, she did receive a letter to attend Hogwarts with her brother. She did not appear half as pleased to find out. The summer beforehand, Aya indulged her children with a trip to magical America to meet some of their extended magical family. Rather than gathering all of their supplies from the typical Diagon Alley, Richard got the privilege of seeing the wizarding world of America. His father did not attend, citing important business at home. Richard felt immeasurable relief. He’d known his father would only complain. While there, Richard bought every book his mother would allow, along with a wand with a stubborn thunderbird tail core that nearly singed the hairs on Kara’s head. She was far more frightened, though warmed to slowly without the domineering influence of their muggle father. Upon returning, time could not move fast enough for Richard. In fact, he had his suitcase packed in the beginning of August. Carefully assembling and reassembling his things. When Kara had asked why, he’d hesitantly revealed that he was afraid their father would change his mind. For some reason, that felt like an absolute. If Myron said no, well… it was a no. September came and Richard’s anxiety didn’t leave him until the train had left. Kara sitting with Dana, it left no room for Richard, but he was far more interested in inspecting the train. Finding himself in the carriage of a gaggling group of second years, Richard had explained that before the Hogwart’s Express, students had been permitted to arrive at Hogwarts however they liked. That he’d have loved to try a portkey, but the train would do. For some bizarre reason, the group took pity on him, and Richard found himself three friends before he’d even set foot in the Great Hall. Sorted in to Ravenclaw, Richard was separated from the few faces he’d come to know and his sister, who had been placed in Hufflepuff. This was, perhaps, the best thing for him as Richard had never had to function on his own. He’d always been one half of a whole, especially in respect to Kara, who had always eclipsed him in muggle society. In wizarding society, Richard thrived. He took to magic quickly and without issue. ‘Like a grindylow to water!’, his mother had said with glee. It did, however, distance him from his father. He barely heard from him at all during that first year, though when he spoke with Kara he found out that Myron was sending her a letter a week. ‘That’s because I write’, Kara had said. Richard hadn’t realised he’d have to be the first one to try. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. Though he quickly busied himself with studying and learning the complex hand movements for Transfiguration. He didn’t care. Honestly… he didn’t. That first Christmas was a sombre affair. In fact, Richard couldn’t recall if he’d heard his mum and dad exchange more than a handful of words the whole time. As time passed, and he finished his first term for the summer, Richard had dreaded returning home. He thought that maybe, with all of their children out of the house, his parents had finally realised they couldn’t stand one and other. He spent most of the summer sending owls to his friends about how miserable he was and reading his textbooks for his second year. His mum, perhaps feeling a little guilty about the atmosphere at home, had bought him a frightening moon-faced Great Grey owl and Richard almost forgot about the tension at home. He’d called him Mad-Eye after the great auror Moody, he’d read about. Dana hadn’t so quickly forgot the tension though, neither had Kara. He could tell it was taking an especially harsh toll on his sister Kara. She couldn’t decide what was worse, their parents fighting or going back to Hogwarts and disappointing their father. It was just before they were due to attend that their parents sat them down and said what they were all expecting. They were finally getting a divorce. Kara cried for a week straight, but Richard had been so relieved. They barely spoke at home and he was tired of hiding his textbooks out of sight, for fear one look at them would send his father in to a rage. Why did they have to defend their very nature? It was infuriating. Suddenly, they were split between a flat in Scotland with their dad, and the family home with their mum. It appeared they had already done much of the work without telling their children as afterwards, it seemed their father was suddenly gone. He promised he would see them often, giving their mother a grave look as he reminded them of his court ordered visitation and custody. Kara had clung to him, but eventually the promise of seeing him at the weekend abated her upset. After all that, the twins attended their second year, though it was with not an ounce of enthusiasm from Kara. Richard bit every single one of his nails thinking about her. As her scores began to fall and Richard found himself completing his own homework and hers. His tired eyes pinned open in the Ravenclaw common room, her scrolls and his side-by-side. Unfortunately for Richard, the court demanded a split visitation which meant the twins had to get special permission to leave Hogwarts two weekends a month. Dana had refused. It meant they were often late to arrive back on Monday mornings, their father unwilling to allow them to travel back to the station magically. It was on one fateful Monday that Richard’s life changed terribly. On a bumpy, winding country road Myron sped to deliver them to the train station. Richard and Kara sharing a seatbelt in the back seat. When a car came around a blind corner and hit their father’s rusted Ford Focus head on. Richard remembered the crunching of glass as the windshield had shattered and the bonnet had crumpled. His fathers head crunching against the steering wheel. How he’d reached for his sister as she’d broken the faulty seatbelt they had shared and went flying through the gap between the front and back seat. His hand shredded on the glass that showered them both as he tore a chunk out of Kara’s sunflower yellow jumper and watched, wide-eyed as she’d gone sailing through the broken windshield and bounced off the colliding cars front. Her body twisted at an odd, unnatural angle as Richard had been thrown back on the backswing and crashed his head against the back of the car. After that, for a while, everything went black. In the time between, Richard remembered the squealing of sirens and his father’s body being covered by a sheet in the gurney beside him. And how, when his eyes had cast up in a panic, they’d found Kara immediately. Her head still resting on the other cars shiny metal bonnet, her blonde hair painted red, her mouth open and teeth shattered. Eyes wide. Before he’d been turned away and wheeled into the back of an ambulance. There was a lot of pain and darkness then, but Richard would learn afterwards that his father had died instantly. That Kara hadn’t been far behind and if it hadn’t been for her body stopping his, he’d have probably followed suit. He was rushed to a muggle hospital where they had to perform emergency surgery on his brain as it swelled with fluid due to a bleed from his injuries, his skull fractured. He was put into a chemical coma and stayed that way for hours before his mum or Dana had even discovered what had happened. Everything else is… word of mouth. And the vague impressions of memory. Aya could not simply check her son out of a muggle hospital immediately. Though she felt sure he would be in better hands at St. Mungos. She was told, quite sternly, that her son had received major head trauma and that a metal plate was the only thing keeping his skull together. When they tentatively tried to pull him from the chemical coma, he simply would not come to. Tests confirmed he had brain waves and his body was healing, but he would not wake up. In his hand, he held the torn shred of yellow jumper. Nobody had the heart to pry those bloody fingers open and take it from him. When they’d stitched him up, they’d let him keep it, knowing that there had to be a reason he clutched it so desperately. When the muggle doctors had no answers as to why Richard wouldn’t wake up, they allowed his mother to remove him from their care to a ‘specialised treatment centre’. Unfortunately, the St. Mungo’s healers could do no more than the muggle ones had. Apparently, Richie was perfectly healthy. His brain was in one piece, and his skull had healed well to the metal plate. But, he simply did not wake up. From then on, it was almost two whole years in St. Mungo’s. He was a baffling case for the seasoned healers, who eventually decided that Richard was choosing not to wake up. ‘Catatonic’, they called it. When the brain shuts down to protect itself. Richard remembers snippets of conversations held above his sleeping body. How they would try and trick him into wakefulness. Of how his body refused to oblige. And then, as time passed, how Dana’s familiar cadence would lull him. She’d read him textbooks and graphic novels. Things she would know he would like. He’d wished, in those brief moments of lucid thought, that he could wake up and thank her. Alas, he simply could not. Winter 2024, the healers came in to tend to Richard and found him sitting up. He can’t quite remember what it was that woke him. Perhaps it was Dana, her voice finally breaking through the din. Or maybe, his brain finally grew tired of hiding. Either way, Richard returned to consciousness to be told again that his twin sister was dead and so was his father. All he had left was a hand covered in silver scars, a stapled skull and a little square of sunflower yellow fabric. The only good thing was when Dana and his mum had come to see him. The familiarity in their faces driving him from the bed on skinny, splinted legs. The healers had given him a potion for muscle atrophy, but it took time to settle in. Though, his mother seemed like a ghost of herself, Dana was so very much the same that Richard had cried. His skinny arms clinging to her as he cried for two years’ worth of stationary grief. After that moment, Riche barely saw his mum again. Apparently, she had not coped well after the crash. She sent letters and gifts, but promptly declared that she was too busy and not equipped to rehabilitate Richie on her own. Dana took him home instead, smiling and reminding him that he was lucky to be alive and that he should appreciate that luck. That Kara would want him to. He wasn’t so sure, having become very introspective in the weeks following his recovery. Dana petitioned to Hogwarts for him when he had asked. Stating that he would like to return as far ahead as he could manage. After studying for months and agreeing to attend fifth year, though he should have been attending sixth year, Richie passed the necessary exams to go back to Hogwarts after the summer of 2025. It was odd, and Richie often reverted into strange bouts of dissociative silence, but he had his life. He had his schoolwork. He even had his Great Grey owl Mad-Eye. Dana had done her best to preserve the very essence of his life before the crash. Though, Richie isn’t sure if he’s managed the same thing himself. site events reaction: Richie is somewhat removed from the happenings of the wizarding world. Before the winter of 2024, he was in a coma for two years. After his return, most of his attention has been consumed by his recovery. Where he has been warned that too much excitement, or upset might induce a second catatonic state. He is afraid of his own mind, but he has always been a curious soul. The existence of druids fascinates him and he is likely to learn all he can from textbooks and magical history tomes. Hy-Brasil is on the top of his lists for 'places I want to see now that I've found my brain'. Alas, Dana is rather protective of what she allows her brother to get up to. The sudden existence of the Wyrd Island is more something Richie is likely to read about than actually experience. God forbid he actually lives his life. WANT AD
OOC
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deltra of gangnam style
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