Post by Deleted on Mar 12, 2016 4:45:03 GMT
Alfred F. Jones
Male | 17 |
American | Bicurious |
186cm | 107kg |
Muggle-Born | |
personality
[attr="class","profileboxscroll"]Alfred F. Jones; man of mystery.
Alfred is a cheerful soul that does his best to light up a room when he enters. He’s friendly, if not overly-so, and kind to everyone he meets, without a mean bone in his body. He’s the type to help little old ladies cross the street, or climb a tall tree to get a child’s kite down. Do unto others, as you'd have them do unto you. He practices that as much as he possibly can, though it rarely seems to earn him the same kindness in return. But that doesn’t get him down! The blonde manages to keep his head high and a smile on his lips even in the face doubt and indifference. His strong will and sense of optimism have sought him through many difficult times in his life, but never has his light been dimmed by the harshness of the world around him. If anything, it’s only caused his fire to burn brighter than before and put a determination in his heart to see the world become a better place. Even if he has to bring it about with his own two hands.
A hero. That’s what Alfred wants to be most in the world. Unfortunately and unbeknownst to him, Alfred suffers from Hero Syndrome; “An inherent desire to help others, a compulsion to make the world right”. While this doesn’t seem like a bad thing at face value, it has a multitude of negative side-effects on him, and occasionally, those around him. It makes him very idealistic and optimistic; and then forces him to face the reality that he can’t save everyone. This in turn, leads Alfred to have occasional bouts of depression, that may or may not be noticeable, depending on the severity and how well someone knows him. It also makes him an easy target for those seeking to manipulate him. It’s no great feat to use his compassion, his kindness and his eagerness to please, against himself in the worst possible ways. It also leads Alfred to overextend himself and wear himself down. For the sake of others, he often neglects his own health and happiness, compelled to continue helping people no matter the cost. At times, the stress can be so overwhelming, that it forges a dark resentment for the people he helps, far at the back corners of his mind. Gratitude can make or break a hero and its a very thin thread that keeps Alfred suspended above the darker nature of Hero Syndrome.
To the annoyance of everyone that is stuck being around him.. Alfred usually doesn’t bother to assess a situation at all. Reading the atmosphere, sensing the mood, noticing the tension; none of these. And it isn’t that he’s incapable of understanding them.. He simply just finds it boring and a waste of time to try, most of the time. Or so he’d have it appear. Underneath that bubbly, seemingly ignorant mask of an idiot, is the sharp and cunning mind of a true genius. He’s intelligent beyond his years, and always has been, ever since he was a child. Calculating. Logical. Perceptive. Not much skates past Alfred unnoticed, contrary to how it seems. His mind is always ticking, always thinking, and if not just a teensy bit paranoid. He’s never had very many friends and the ones he has had, never seem to stay very long, and because of this he’s become a bit mistrusting of others. Not that he’d ever let it show. That wouldn’t be very heroic, now would it?
Though Alfred’s mental capabilities are technically more advanced than most, they’re often overshadowed by his childish tendencies and habits. He grew up quite fast and thus, didn't get to enjoy his childhood as much as he should have. His childish enthusiasm and behavior occasionally rub people the wrong way, but it’s simply something he just can’t help. Overly and easily excitable, a touch naive, eternally optimistic and always one for fun, Alfred's mind may be that of a genius, but his heart will always be that of a little kid. He’s able to find happiness in the simple things of life, because of this and that big, boyish grin of his can be nearly infectious at times. No matter what the trouble, Alfred can always find the silver lining, even in the darkest of storms.
Alfred is a cheerful soul that does his best to light up a room when he enters. He’s friendly, if not overly-so, and kind to everyone he meets, without a mean bone in his body. He’s the type to help little old ladies cross the street, or climb a tall tree to get a child’s kite down. Do unto others, as you'd have them do unto you. He practices that as much as he possibly can, though it rarely seems to earn him the same kindness in return. But that doesn’t get him down! The blonde manages to keep his head high and a smile on his lips even in the face doubt and indifference. His strong will and sense of optimism have sought him through many difficult times in his life, but never has his light been dimmed by the harshness of the world around him. If anything, it’s only caused his fire to burn brighter than before and put a determination in his heart to see the world become a better place. Even if he has to bring it about with his own two hands.
A hero. That’s what Alfred wants to be most in the world. Unfortunately and unbeknownst to him, Alfred suffers from Hero Syndrome; “An inherent desire to help others, a compulsion to make the world right”. While this doesn’t seem like a bad thing at face value, it has a multitude of negative side-effects on him, and occasionally, those around him. It makes him very idealistic and optimistic; and then forces him to face the reality that he can’t save everyone. This in turn, leads Alfred to have occasional bouts of depression, that may or may not be noticeable, depending on the severity and how well someone knows him. It also makes him an easy target for those seeking to manipulate him. It’s no great feat to use his compassion, his kindness and his eagerness to please, against himself in the worst possible ways. It also leads Alfred to overextend himself and wear himself down. For the sake of others, he often neglects his own health and happiness, compelled to continue helping people no matter the cost. At times, the stress can be so overwhelming, that it forges a dark resentment for the people he helps, far at the back corners of his mind. Gratitude can make or break a hero and its a very thin thread that keeps Alfred suspended above the darker nature of Hero Syndrome.
To the annoyance of everyone that is stuck being around him.. Alfred usually doesn’t bother to assess a situation at all. Reading the atmosphere, sensing the mood, noticing the tension; none of these. And it isn’t that he’s incapable of understanding them.. He simply just finds it boring and a waste of time to try, most of the time. Or so he’d have it appear. Underneath that bubbly, seemingly ignorant mask of an idiot, is the sharp and cunning mind of a true genius. He’s intelligent beyond his years, and always has been, ever since he was a child. Calculating. Logical. Perceptive. Not much skates past Alfred unnoticed, contrary to how it seems. His mind is always ticking, always thinking, and if not just a teensy bit paranoid. He’s never had very many friends and the ones he has had, never seem to stay very long, and because of this he’s become a bit mistrusting of others. Not that he’d ever let it show. That wouldn’t be very heroic, now would it?
Though Alfred’s mental capabilities are technically more advanced than most, they’re often overshadowed by his childish tendencies and habits. He grew up quite fast and thus, didn't get to enjoy his childhood as much as he should have. His childish enthusiasm and behavior occasionally rub people the wrong way, but it’s simply something he just can’t help. Overly and easily excitable, a touch naive, eternally optimistic and always one for fun, Alfred's mind may be that of a genius, but his heart will always be that of a little kid. He’s able to find happiness in the simple things of life, because of this and that big, boyish grin of his can be nearly infectious at times. No matter what the trouble, Alfred can always find the silver lining, even in the darkest of storms.
history
[attr="class","profileboxscroll"]Alfred was born as Alfred Jackson to Judith Jackson, a nurse and Nicholas Jackson, a lawyer; all three just muggles in an normal, boring life. But when he was just a few years old, it was quite evident Alfred was far from ordinary; in addition to a wonderful gift of prodigal intelligence, he was also a muggle-born wizard. While most are contacted around age ten, in order to attend one of the wizarding schools, Alfred was a peculiarity. The Jones Family, prominent in the Ministry and active in the wizarding community of the U.S., had gained a bit of bad luck as the current heads of the family; David and Abigail Jones seemed unable to have to children. Not wanting their reputation to take a hit, and with very few acceptable options.. They hatched a little plot that would be unthinkable to most pureblood families, even in modern times.
They began scouting for magical talent in the muggle world, as David went about his business as an Auror. Eventually, he caught word of young Alfred through the grapevine and took it upon himself to strike up conversation with the Jacksons. Despite being well off, they had never planned on having children and were struggling with their parental duties. Seeing a rare opportunity, David quickly brought Abigail over to meet the muggle family and with a bit of luck, they all hit it off quite well. After a few months, the Jacksons filed a closed adoption with the Joneses and from there it was all history. Though, David took great care to erase all memory of Alfred from the Jacksons, and even from little Alfred before moving them to the U.K.
Alfred absolutely flourished in his new home and his adoptive parents were more in love with him than they ever expected. It didn't matter he wasn’t theirs biologically, or that he wasn't even born from magical parents. He was their beloved son and could never be anything but. Abigail became Momma and David became Davie, due to Alfred hearing the nickname so often. Beyond the start of his life, Alfred had a very normal childhood; or as normal as a young genius could. He hit every developmental stage much earlier than most children, and was already learning spells with his mother’s wand (Very flexible, Pear, Fairy Wing) before his father decided it was time he had his own.
As was the Jones tradition, Davie and Alfred set out on a summer long trip of Europe to find the young wizard’s perfect match in a wand. They started in Portugal, intent on working their way from country to country, from shop to shop, seeking out the wand that was meant for him. However, they only made it to East side of Spain before a grave danger struck that would change Alfred's world forever. A dark wizard by the name of Sarin had been following the father-son duo, waiting for the right moment to strike; and he found that moment when they were at a rest stop for a brief lunch. Their meal was brought to a screeching halt as a duel was struck up between the two powerful wizards.
Alfred was powerless without a wand of his own and could only try to scramble back to the car to hide as his father continued the fight. They were fairly matched until Sarin had the nerve to threaten the hiding boy, which promptly ignited a protective fury in Davie. The Auror fought harder and quicker until he finally had Sarin disarmed and on the ground. Having seemingly defeated the enemy soundly, Davie took a moment to contact his fellow Aurors for assistance. This particular dark wizard, however, was skilled in magics that did not require a wand and while Davie was preoccupied, lashed out at him with a nasty curse. Though he was stunned for a moment, Alfred’s father was quick to fully incapacitate the man before moving to check on Alfred.
They carried on their merry way, not paying much mind to the curse initially and eventually find Alfred’s match in Rome. Twelve inches even, Cedar, Slightly springy with Runespoor fang for a core. They even picked up his familiar, a large, Ragdoll Kitten upon their return to the U.K. Over the next few weeks before Alfred started school, he and his mother couldn't help but notice how Davie looked a little older, a little more tired. And how he started to become forgetful. The older he looked, the more Davie realized just what kind of curse it had been and set to his research immediately. Though there was no actual counter-spell, there was a potion that could be made to help slow and even reverse some of the effects. However, it required a very rare and mysterious kind of blue flower, one that hadn't been seen in a very long time.
And so, Alfred set off to begin his schooling at Hogwarts; but due to his natural gifts and everything his parents had already taught him, he wouldn't be starting First Year with the rest of the eleven year olds. No, Alfred wold be starting with the Second Years as advanced placement. Due to this, he was an outsider from the beginning and it took a while for him to even make acquaintances. His outgoing, nontypical-Slytherin personality also hindered that quite a bit, unfortunately, but Alfred couldn’t be bothered by it. After all, he was a man (a boy) on a mission.
He spent most of his free time throughout the first half of the school year, holed up in the library, trying to find more information on this elusive flower that could help his father. But come the winter break, when he returned home, Davie looked so much older than when Alfred had started school; and he didn't even remember the flower, or that he had asked for his son’s help in finding it. Alfred didn't sweat it though. He happily told his father all about the flower and how his research was going, much to Davie’s surprise. He encouraged the young wizard to keep doing his best and thanked him for all his help.
Upon returning to school after the break, Alfred resumed his extra studying, all the more determined to find the ingredients for his father’s potion. At this time, he was also trying to make more friends—or rather, just friends, considering he didn't have any before either. The only one that seemed to have the patience for him, was the heir of a well-known family; one Arthur Kirkland. And once Alfred finds someone to call friend, it can be very difficult, if not entirely impossible, to shake the American from one's side.Summer break, typically a time of family fun in the sun, was nothing but a time of pain and worry for young Alfred.
By the time he arrived back to his family’s estate, his father looked so much older— and to make matters worse, even as Alfred shouted “Davie!” and rushed to hug him, David only looked startled and surprised, even gently pushing Alfred from him, saying he shouldn’t hug strangers. Abigail soon informed her son that her husband didn’t remember much of anything or anyone. He barely remembered his wife; and didn’t remember his own son at all. Heartbroken, but stubbornly remaining optimistic, Alfred spent the whole summer with Davie, telling him all about their lives and family. Though they grew close, he knew it’d never be the same.
Just before the end of his third year, Alfred finally found a book that told of the whereabouts of the flower he was so desperately seeking. Without hesitation, he snuck out of school and went on a small quest to retrieve the plant, overjoyed he could finally save his father. Though he was scolded when he returned to Hogwarts the next day, the blonde frantically explained the situation and then earnestly begged for the potions professor— Professor Iain Kirkland to help in making it. Potions being one of the few things Alfred didn’t excel at. Time and hard work paid off, and immediately after the ending ceremonies, Alfred rushed home to share the good news with his father, a bouquet of the beautiful, blue flowers in tow as well.
Alfred’s heart nearly stopped when he got through the front door. Standing there, staring out the window into the garden, was what appeared to be his father. Years shaved off, back to the way Alfred remembered him before the curse, before Hogwarts. Ever the optimist, he couldn't help but wonder if the potion didn’t eve need to be used; if maybe its sheer existence would work to cure his father. Naturally, Alfred all but threw himself at the man in question, hugging onto him for dear life and crying, telling him he knew he could be it. He knew his father, his hero, could overcome the curse.
Abigail comes in, crying and comments how good it is that Alfred gets to know his Uncle Franklin. Those simple words shocked the young American enough to send him quickly backing away from the man he had been latched onto just moments before. It wasn’t his father at all; but rather, Franklin Jones. David’s twin brother, who had been away working with dragons in Romania most of Alfred’s life. He was there, only to pay his respects, seeing as how Davie had passed away just hours before Alfred’s arrival. His mother had sent a message by owl, but the timing was off; Alfred had just left as the owl was landing.
The funeral was held the next morning and Alfred had clammed up. His mother was locked in her room, overcome with grief and crying endlessly, he barely knew his extended family and Franklin Jones was emotionally distant to most things, death included. Thus, Alfred was left alone in his grief, after laying the bouquet and potion with his father in the casket. He felt like a failure. If only he’d been…better. If only he could have made the potion himself. If only he had found the flower the year before. If only he had found his wand sooner. If only he hadn’t..
Been born.
Davie would still be alive.
Alfred didn’t even make it to the next school year before tragedy struck the Jones family once again. His mother, Abigail, never recovered from her husband’s death. She never left her bedroom for the weeks that followed. Alfred would bring her meals and leave them on the bedside table, only to take the spoiled food away later, the plates entirely untouched. He didn't know what else to do, so he called a doctor over, and then Franklin, who was unavailable, of course. The doctor didn’t even make it inside the house, however, before Abigail’s owl swooped down on him and Alfred in a panic. The pair rushed upstairs, Alfred broke down the door with brute force, but it was too late.
His mother’s funeral was held a few days before his return to Hogwarts and he was alone for that as well. Franklin didn’t even show. When Alfred entered his fourth year, he was much quieter and distant from his peers, still mourning the loss of his parents. With time, though, and an added distraction of joining the Slytherin Quidditch team as a Chaser, Alfred began to get back to his usual, cheerful self. But this time, he swore he’d be better than he was before.
He failed to save his father—and his mother. But he’d never fail again. He’d save those who needed saving and help those who needed help. He’d become a hero, just like Davie had been. He’d make the world a better, bright place. But to do that, he needed a number of things.. Power. Influence. Respect. Wealth. Alfred Jones was determined to become the greatest hero, the greatest wizard of all time. And into his seventh year, (aside from Potions class), he’s all that much closer to achieving his ambitions and dreams. But with how much closer he’s grown to his best friend over the years.. It seems Alfred has a new goal in mind.
They began scouting for magical talent in the muggle world, as David went about his business as an Auror. Eventually, he caught word of young Alfred through the grapevine and took it upon himself to strike up conversation with the Jacksons. Despite being well off, they had never planned on having children and were struggling with their parental duties. Seeing a rare opportunity, David quickly brought Abigail over to meet the muggle family and with a bit of luck, they all hit it off quite well. After a few months, the Jacksons filed a closed adoption with the Joneses and from there it was all history. Though, David took great care to erase all memory of Alfred from the Jacksons, and even from little Alfred before moving them to the U.K.
Alfred absolutely flourished in his new home and his adoptive parents were more in love with him than they ever expected. It didn't matter he wasn’t theirs biologically, or that he wasn't even born from magical parents. He was their beloved son and could never be anything but. Abigail became Momma and David became Davie, due to Alfred hearing the nickname so often. Beyond the start of his life, Alfred had a very normal childhood; or as normal as a young genius could. He hit every developmental stage much earlier than most children, and was already learning spells with his mother’s wand (Very flexible, Pear, Fairy Wing) before his father decided it was time he had his own.
As was the Jones tradition, Davie and Alfred set out on a summer long trip of Europe to find the young wizard’s perfect match in a wand. They started in Portugal, intent on working their way from country to country, from shop to shop, seeking out the wand that was meant for him. However, they only made it to East side of Spain before a grave danger struck that would change Alfred's world forever. A dark wizard by the name of Sarin had been following the father-son duo, waiting for the right moment to strike; and he found that moment when they were at a rest stop for a brief lunch. Their meal was brought to a screeching halt as a duel was struck up between the two powerful wizards.
Alfred was powerless without a wand of his own and could only try to scramble back to the car to hide as his father continued the fight. They were fairly matched until Sarin had the nerve to threaten the hiding boy, which promptly ignited a protective fury in Davie. The Auror fought harder and quicker until he finally had Sarin disarmed and on the ground. Having seemingly defeated the enemy soundly, Davie took a moment to contact his fellow Aurors for assistance. This particular dark wizard, however, was skilled in magics that did not require a wand and while Davie was preoccupied, lashed out at him with a nasty curse. Though he was stunned for a moment, Alfred’s father was quick to fully incapacitate the man before moving to check on Alfred.
They carried on their merry way, not paying much mind to the curse initially and eventually find Alfred’s match in Rome. Twelve inches even, Cedar, Slightly springy with Runespoor fang for a core. They even picked up his familiar, a large, Ragdoll Kitten upon their return to the U.K. Over the next few weeks before Alfred started school, he and his mother couldn't help but notice how Davie looked a little older, a little more tired. And how he started to become forgetful. The older he looked, the more Davie realized just what kind of curse it had been and set to his research immediately. Though there was no actual counter-spell, there was a potion that could be made to help slow and even reverse some of the effects. However, it required a very rare and mysterious kind of blue flower, one that hadn't been seen in a very long time.
And so, Alfred set off to begin his schooling at Hogwarts; but due to his natural gifts and everything his parents had already taught him, he wouldn't be starting First Year with the rest of the eleven year olds. No, Alfred wold be starting with the Second Years as advanced placement. Due to this, he was an outsider from the beginning and it took a while for him to even make acquaintances. His outgoing, nontypical-Slytherin personality also hindered that quite a bit, unfortunately, but Alfred couldn’t be bothered by it. After all, he was a man (a boy) on a mission.
He spent most of his free time throughout the first half of the school year, holed up in the library, trying to find more information on this elusive flower that could help his father. But come the winter break, when he returned home, Davie looked so much older than when Alfred had started school; and he didn't even remember the flower, or that he had asked for his son’s help in finding it. Alfred didn't sweat it though. He happily told his father all about the flower and how his research was going, much to Davie’s surprise. He encouraged the young wizard to keep doing his best and thanked him for all his help.
Upon returning to school after the break, Alfred resumed his extra studying, all the more determined to find the ingredients for his father’s potion. At this time, he was also trying to make more friends—or rather, just friends, considering he didn't have any before either. The only one that seemed to have the patience for him, was the heir of a well-known family; one Arthur Kirkland. And once Alfred finds someone to call friend, it can be very difficult, if not entirely impossible, to shake the American from one's side.Summer break, typically a time of family fun in the sun, was nothing but a time of pain and worry for young Alfred.
By the time he arrived back to his family’s estate, his father looked so much older— and to make matters worse, even as Alfred shouted “Davie!” and rushed to hug him, David only looked startled and surprised, even gently pushing Alfred from him, saying he shouldn’t hug strangers. Abigail soon informed her son that her husband didn’t remember much of anything or anyone. He barely remembered his wife; and didn’t remember his own son at all. Heartbroken, but stubbornly remaining optimistic, Alfred spent the whole summer with Davie, telling him all about their lives and family. Though they grew close, he knew it’d never be the same.
Just before the end of his third year, Alfred finally found a book that told of the whereabouts of the flower he was so desperately seeking. Without hesitation, he snuck out of school and went on a small quest to retrieve the plant, overjoyed he could finally save his father. Though he was scolded when he returned to Hogwarts the next day, the blonde frantically explained the situation and then earnestly begged for the potions professor— Professor Iain Kirkland to help in making it. Potions being one of the few things Alfred didn’t excel at. Time and hard work paid off, and immediately after the ending ceremonies, Alfred rushed home to share the good news with his father, a bouquet of the beautiful, blue flowers in tow as well.
Alfred’s heart nearly stopped when he got through the front door. Standing there, staring out the window into the garden, was what appeared to be his father. Years shaved off, back to the way Alfred remembered him before the curse, before Hogwarts. Ever the optimist, he couldn't help but wonder if the potion didn’t eve need to be used; if maybe its sheer existence would work to cure his father. Naturally, Alfred all but threw himself at the man in question, hugging onto him for dear life and crying, telling him he knew he could be it. He knew his father, his hero, could overcome the curse.
Abigail comes in, crying and comments how good it is that Alfred gets to know his Uncle Franklin. Those simple words shocked the young American enough to send him quickly backing away from the man he had been latched onto just moments before. It wasn’t his father at all; but rather, Franklin Jones. David’s twin brother, who had been away working with dragons in Romania most of Alfred’s life. He was there, only to pay his respects, seeing as how Davie had passed away just hours before Alfred’s arrival. His mother had sent a message by owl, but the timing was off; Alfred had just left as the owl was landing.
The funeral was held the next morning and Alfred had clammed up. His mother was locked in her room, overcome with grief and crying endlessly, he barely knew his extended family and Franklin Jones was emotionally distant to most things, death included. Thus, Alfred was left alone in his grief, after laying the bouquet and potion with his father in the casket. He felt like a failure. If only he’d been…better. If only he could have made the potion himself. If only he had found the flower the year before. If only he had found his wand sooner. If only he hadn’t..
Been born.
Davie would still be alive.
Alfred didn’t even make it to the next school year before tragedy struck the Jones family once again. His mother, Abigail, never recovered from her husband’s death. She never left her bedroom for the weeks that followed. Alfred would bring her meals and leave them on the bedside table, only to take the spoiled food away later, the plates entirely untouched. He didn't know what else to do, so he called a doctor over, and then Franklin, who was unavailable, of course. The doctor didn’t even make it inside the house, however, before Abigail’s owl swooped down on him and Alfred in a panic. The pair rushed upstairs, Alfred broke down the door with brute force, but it was too late.
His mother’s funeral was held a few days before his return to Hogwarts and he was alone for that as well. Franklin didn’t even show. When Alfred entered his fourth year, he was much quieter and distant from his peers, still mourning the loss of his parents. With time, though, and an added distraction of joining the Slytherin Quidditch team as a Chaser, Alfred began to get back to his usual, cheerful self. But this time, he swore he’d be better than he was before.
He failed to save his father—and his mother. But he’d never fail again. He’d save those who needed saving and help those who needed help. He’d become a hero, just like Davie had been. He’d make the world a better, bright place. But to do that, he needed a number of things.. Power. Influence. Respect. Wealth. Alfred Jones was determined to become the greatest hero, the greatest wizard of all time. And into his seventh year, (aside from Potions class), he’s all that much closer to achieving his ambitions and dreams. But with how much closer he’s grown to his best friend over the years.. It seems Alfred has a new goal in mind.
rp sample
[attr="class","profileboxscroll"] Alfred played a few notes through his harmonica; blue eyes glancing around as his legs swung back and forth off the back of the moving truck. He was finally moving in to his own dorm room at the university.. He had kept putting it off and putting it off; extremely worried his curse of a power might go haywire and crush someone or sink half the building.. But the chairman had fervently reassured him that everything would be fine; and if on the off chance something did happen, it would only be an accident and repairs could be made. And so against what the blonde still deemed his better judgement... Alfred F. Jones finally gave into the the increasing loneliness that had been looming over him ever since he first noticed his powers.
He was worried.. But even so, he already felt a million times happier; like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders, shown to him one last time and then tossed away. “Welp. Its gone now, at least!” Alfred grinned, harmonic disappearing into his shirt pocket. There was still a good number of boxes left in the truck’s cabin.. Albeit most of them contained comic book memorabilia and video games, a few did contain his film equipment. The movers had taken his shelves and boxes of clothes and the like up already; they might even carry his comics up too. But Alfred would carry his own equipment. With all due respect to the moving company, he didn’t trust many with his cameras.. Then again.
He didn’t know many people at all.
That thought brought a small frown to his lips, though he quickly shoo’ed it away by stuffing a handful of salty french fries into his mouth from the bag beside him. The guys must be headin’ down by now, so I should head up with the gear.. Quickly wiping his hands off on the material of his jeans, the American took to humming the song he’d been playing earlier as he gathered two of the boxes into his arms. He took a few seconds take some precautions; double-checking that he had a good grip, his shoes were tied, the boxes were closed properly.. “All set.” He grinned, turning from the truck to begin hauling the oh-so valuable packages into the building. He weaved this way and that, in and out of crowds, pausing when he got to the staircase. He’d forgotten about them entirely!
A worried expression creased lines into Alfred’s face as he had a stare-down with his newest villain. Two flights. Surely, he could could defeat them without losing balance and dropping his precious cargo. Surely. He couldn’t help but childishly stick his tongue out at his foe in mild annoyance, before very carefully beginning to ascend; only one step at a time. No short cuts or dilly-dallying of any kind this time around.
He was worried.. But even so, he already felt a million times happier; like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders, shown to him one last time and then tossed away. “Welp. Its gone now, at least!” Alfred grinned, harmonic disappearing into his shirt pocket. There was still a good number of boxes left in the truck’s cabin.. Albeit most of them contained comic book memorabilia and video games, a few did contain his film equipment. The movers had taken his shelves and boxes of clothes and the like up already; they might even carry his comics up too. But Alfred would carry his own equipment. With all due respect to the moving company, he didn’t trust many with his cameras.. Then again.
He didn’t know many people at all.
That thought brought a small frown to his lips, though he quickly shoo’ed it away by stuffing a handful of salty french fries into his mouth from the bag beside him. The guys must be headin’ down by now, so I should head up with the gear.. Quickly wiping his hands off on the material of his jeans, the American took to humming the song he’d been playing earlier as he gathered two of the boxes into his arms. He took a few seconds take some precautions; double-checking that he had a good grip, his shoes were tied, the boxes were closed properly.. “All set.” He grinned, turning from the truck to begin hauling the oh-so valuable packages into the building. He weaved this way and that, in and out of crowds, pausing when he got to the staircase. He’d forgotten about them entirely!
A worried expression creased lines into Alfred’s face as he had a stare-down with his newest villain. Two flights. Surely, he could could defeat them without losing balance and dropping his precious cargo. Surely. He couldn’t help but childishly stick his tongue out at his foe in mild annoyance, before very carefully beginning to ascend; only one step at a time. No short cuts or dilly-dallying of any kind this time around.
other
Wand | |
Runespoor Fang | Cedar |
Twelve Inches | Slightly Springy |
Strongest Subject | Weakest Subject |
D.A.D.A. | Potions |
Familiar | Patronus |
Ragdoll Cat | Velociraptor |
America from Axis Powers: Hetalia | |
Carrot | |
width: 1px;[/newclass]
