#aus;

Personality: Quiet and difficult to read. His emotions are muted, but there is a tenderness beneath the surface. He wishes to know as much as he can about the world and how the human body works, so as to ease the suffering of his patients. If you marry him, he still works at the clinic.

Birthday: Fall 13th

Occupation: Doctor. He lives on the 2nd floor of the clinic with his younger sister, Klee. Regular appointment hours run from 8 AM to 11 AM / 1 PM to 6 PM. Technically closed on Tuesdays and Fridays, but he will work even outside of these hours if someone is injured or sick. The disjointed nature is to facilitate research into various remedies, tonics and medicines.

On Tuesdays, he can be found scavenging in the forest or mountains for potential new ingredients to utilize in his medicine making (Klee joins him on these expeditions when the weather is good), while Fridays are wholly dedicated to research. Something of a workaholic.

Favorite/special gift: Cinnamon Coffee Cake

Liked gifts: not particularly picky; he enjoys just about any form of dessert, fish, or plant. that said, he’ll accept almost any gift as he’ll find an odd use for it (and it’s truly the thought that counts). except heavy, meat-based dishes.

[ oh i fuckin boogie i have a Number of them

heres a recent redesign doodle while i infodump under the spoiler]

Questions for the Mun

♦ What's an AU that you've always wanted?

THE SAINTS ARE COMING; 

                                  When old man Prewett went down in a hail of bullets last summer they said his Family was through; nobody may have taken credit for the hit but old Griff wasn’t even cold in his grave before those Malfoys moved in on the old Prewett territories — Lucius Malfoy always had a nose for opportunity. His little girl Molly’s running with the Weasley crew now and they say she has her Daddy’s temper magic when it comes to keeping the boys in line, unless you mention her brothers .. Some say they were among the bodycount that clear summer’s day and those Prewett boys are feeding the worms, ask the people of London and they’ll say that’s what they want you to believe.

                                  The Saints appeared like an answered prayer; visiting bloody justice on the devils that walked London’s streets. The people they help don’t ask questions and the brothers don’t answer them, but when their Patron Saints come marching in folks know to close their shutters tight, lock their doors and say their prayers that those boys find what they’re looking for. (This isn’t a war, it’s a bloodbath.)