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OUT OF CHARACTER:

Name: Roman Age: 24 Pronouns: they/them Timezone: EST Activity: pretty high, I’m usually able to do a few replies everyday unless work really kicks my ass, in which case it will be every other day, but I’m always around on mobile for messaging! Triggers: [redacted]

BASICS:

Character name: Edward “Ted” Morgan Tonks Gender and pronouns: genderqueer, they/them Date of birth: July 1, 1955

There are some things that have always remained, and they do truly still believe in the power of looking to the stars for guidance, something that their parents taught them from a young age. Because of this––or because of the stars themselves––Ted embodies all of the traits of a Cancer. They’re emotional and sensitive, and get extremely attached to others. Matters of family are of the utmost importance, and they’re loyal above all to those they care for. At times, they can become selfish and moody, particularly when suffering a perceived lack of understanding from the outside world. Since their time in Azkaban, the negative traits of their sign have been significantly more pronounced than before, the good being pushed to the wayside.

Occupation: the High Justice

Their parents used to joke that they would never be able to settle on a career, that they’d forever be content to float along in life, jumping from one job for another, never staying for too long, always switching from interest to interest. It was like that for a while, anyway. Before the end of the war, they had dozens of odd jobs, everything from potioneer to palm-reader, never for more than a year, and they were happy. But things changed, and once they did, they hadn’t been expecting to ever have another job again, in all honesty, considering they assumed that being sentenced to life in Azkaban meant just that.

But Lily Evans has other plans.

This position was quite literally made for them. They feel certain that if they had refused Lily’s offer years ago, when she came to them in their cell that day, she would have found another muggleborn to fill the position, but with the way things went, with everything they had both been working towards, with the promise she had them make when she managed to have them pardoned, she did this for them. No, that’s not true. She did this for herself. They were just lost and desperate enough to willingly do exactly what she wanted from them. It was all worth it if they would be allowed to raise their child, after all, even if it meant turning into something they wouldn’t have had the capability of becoming before.

And so they took up the gun for her. Using a weapon so supremely muggle, they pass judgement for the Minister. How fitting that they now dispense justice to those who wronged the world, when the reason they became who they are is because of making that same choice ten years ago.

Former Hogwarts house: Hufflepuff Boggart: Dora receiving the Dementor’s Kiss

It changes, but every time it’s changed it’s held one thing in common. Their boggart has always shown someone they love in danger. When they first faced a boggart in school, it was their family; later it was Andromeda, then Andromeda with Alice and Frank. Now the scene they see is of their child suffering the very fate they had come to fear after years among the Dementors. They stay away from boggarts when they can help it.

PERSONALITY

+Tenacious: Since childhood, Ted has been persistent in everything they do, determined and committed. They’ve never been one to hide their opinions or take the easy way out of things, willing to fight for what they believe in, although usually in their own way and not necessarily what others would expect.

+Devoted: They are fiercely loyal to those they care about, devoted to the point of being willing to do nearly anything to keep them safe. This trait led to their downfall, but it’s also kept their family safe from harm since then. They like to think that their dedication to the people they love is what keeps them from becoming a monster, but it’s also caused them to do things they never thought themself capable of.

+/-Emotional: Once, their sensitivity manifested itself in their empathy, in their willingness to be free and open with everything they were feeling, and to help others do the same. Sometimes, that’s still the case, but mostly now, it’s seen in their inability to regulate their emotions at times. They can go from detached and cold, to deeply emotional in the snap of a finger, and often times can’t control themself in those moments, leading to a lot of anger.

+/-Persuasive: They can convince most anyone of anything, really, knowing just how to connect to other people to make them believe they’re truly empathetic and have their best interests in mind. This used to be genuine. Now, it’s more of an act, a way for them to seem more human, more approachable, despite the indifference they feel most of the time.

-Paranoid: Being betrayed by the love of your life changes how you view other people, and ever since Andromeda made the choice to turn them in for their revenge, they’ve been unable to look at most others with anything other than paranoid suspicion. It’s difficult for them to let people in now, unable to give their trust as freely as they did even during the war, because of the constant worry that they’ll be betrayed again.

-Detached: Living surrounded by Dementors for any amount of time changes a person, and living surrounded by them for five years takes away so much that it’s impossible to remain the same as you were before. Before, Ted felt everything deeply and sincerely. They wore their heart on their sleeve, and weren’t afraid to share their feelings no matter what. Andromeda used to joke that they sounded a lot like children’s storybook, with how eternally optimistic they were, how wholesome and full of love. No longer. It’s been so long since they’ve felt much of anything, besides anger. The utter detachment they show in the face of emotion makes them an excellent executioner.

HISTORY

1. It isn’t planned. Anyone with eyes can see that.

They’ve been together since sixth year, but only in secret, hiding their relationship from everyone but their closest, most trusted friends, not even formally living together yet––Ted in Weymouth at their parents’, Andromeda back in London––still planning how best to break the news of their relationship to her family. But that doesn’t mean that both of them aren’t ecstatic when they find out, only a few months after graduating, that they’re going to have a baby. That’s enough for Andromeda to make the choice, and soon enough they’re their own family, married on the beach in Ted’s parents’ backyard two months after Nymphadora is born.

The first few years together out in the open are blissful, so much so that at times they’re almost able to forget the betrayals that Andromeda suffered because of them. She has a new family, after all, one full of love and acceptance and affection, everything that she wasn’t allowed before. And they share that love with their two closet friends, an unconventional relationship to say the least, but one that feels a lot like home to Ted.

2. But war is hard on them. Ted can tell that something’s not quite right with Andromeda, a slow chasm forming between them, but one they can’t seem to do anything about. There are more arguments between them as time goes on, usually about the right course of action, whether it would be safer to run away and live their lives anywhere else, and sometimes Ted wonders if Andromeda regrets her decision. But they always agree that they should stay, even though as the years move forward they suspect it’s not for them, but for her family, for the off chance that they might take back what they did to her, that she might be able to have both lives.

She makes it clear that she doesn’t believe joining in the fighting is worth it. To risk losing them or Dora isn’t worth it, she says, but they suspect it’s something else. Still, they feel the same; they want nothing more than for their family to stay safe, their child to grow up with both parents, in a home as loving as what they’ve managed to give them so far. So they support the Order from afar, and live their lives, watching Dora learn and grow and blossom, all of the best parts of both of them wrapped into a child.

3. There’s this growing unease in their chest, though, as things continue, as they see the pain and suffering of people like them at the hands of people like their wife’s family, and it makes things even more difficult. They want to do something, but they know they can’t, not with Andromeda and Dora to think about. Still, there’s less playfulness between them, more worry shared, more grave looks as the news gets worse and worse, with no sign of a change even as Dora approaches their Hogwarts years.

The attack is the final straw. When they receive the news about Alice and Frank, it feels a lot like something deep within them has broken. And when the healers tell them that Frank will likely never wake from the coma he’s been tortured into, for the first time in their life they truly understand what it means to hate.

Something in the back of their mind tells them that if it had been someone else, they wouldn’t have done what they did. Something tells them that if it hadn’t been her sister, if they hadn’t felt Andromeda slowly slipping away, back toward her family, they would have found a way to move forward. But Bellatrix Lestrange doesn’t let that happen; she taunts them, leads them into taking bait that they should’ve been able to see past. And when they confront her, they do the only thing that felt appropriate. They wrap their hands around her neck and tighten their grip until they see the life leave her eyes.

And then they go to Andromeda and Alice. They look their wife, the love of their life, the mother of their child in the eye, and they tell her that they killed her sister. That they don’t regret it. For a second, they think she might understand. She knows how evil her sister is, everything she’s done; she destroyed Alice’s life. And yet...

It isn’t a surprise when Andromeda makes her choice, when she chooses her family over them, over Dora, over Alice and Frank, though they wish it is. They wish that they don’t expect it, when they see the look in her eyes when they tell her and Alice what they did, they wish that in that moment every single discussion about her family didn’t flash through their mind, the suspicion that, all along, she was just waiting for an excuse to go back to them. But they know as soon as the words leave their mouth that it’s over.

So they leave, take Dora to their parents, drop them off at the little house on the beach they had grown up in, telling their parents that it might be a while before they could speak to them again, but that they want them to keep Dora safe, raise Dora as they had raised them. And then they go back to their flat and wait.

When two aurors they don’t recognize appear at their door, without Andromeda, they feel nothing. When they take them away, no sign of Andromeda in sight, not even offering the courtesy of a real goodbye, a real explanation of what it was that made her choose the family that had abandoned her over the family that had loved her, they feel nothing.

They only start feeling again once they’re sentenced to life in Azkaban.

4. Azkaban changes them at their very core, and it doesn’t take long for it to start happening. No matter how hard they try to resist the feelings, it’s as if they’re watching their happiness slip away moment by moment. The longer they’re in the presence of the Dementors, the fewer happy memories they can recall. They realize it’s happening only a few weeks into their sentence when they wake up and realize they can’t remember clearly what Andromeda’s smile looks like.

After that, memories seem to leave them more quickly.

They’re a goldmine for the Dementors, after all, full of memories of a happy childhood, a beautiful marriage, a life full of love at every turn. So much unadulterated joy, so much for them to feed off of. They can tell that the Dementors like them, from how often they seem to stay by their cell, especially at first. And soon enough they’ve forgotten what it was like to hold Dora for the first time, the feeling they had when they married Dromeda on the beach, the first time Frank had told them he loved them, what Alice’s hair smelled like when they held her close after sex. Every happy memory slipping away.

It doesn’t help that they have a constant reminder of Andromeda in the cell next to them in the form of Sirius Black.

In all honesty, they don’t know how they survive with their sanity for so long. But as time goes on they wonder if maybe it would be better if they lost their mind, too. That way they wouldn’t be able to think about everything else they’ve lost as well. After years, Ted begins to wonder if they’re even capable of love any longer. They wonder if they’d recognize Dora if they saw them, if they’d be able to laugh at their father’s jokes still, if they could smile at Alice. Worse, they realize it doesn’t matter, because they’re alone, and they’re going to be here alone for the rest of their life.

5. That’s not true, though, because five years into their life sentence, Lily Evans appears at their cell door, telling them that she’s found a way to get them out, if they give her something in return.

She wants them to help her fight, help her change things, finally bring justice to all of the others like them, whose lives were destroyed because of Voldemort and his sympathizers, who were hated for their very being. It’s not a hard choice, even though they never were much of a fighter before. Between a lifetime of misery, or fighting for freedom, there’s no question of it.

Five years isn’t a long time, but it feels a lot like a small eternity has passed once they’re on the outside again, a full pardon granted by the Ministry for ridding the world of someone as evil as Bellatrix Lestrange. Everything is different, in the world and their own life. Suddenly, they’re living in a new home without Andromeda, with a thirteen year old child who they barely know, having missed the last five years of their life. It takes some time to relearn how to be a parent, this time on their own, but they think that that’s the one thing that Azkaban didn’t manage to take from them. Everything else is much harder, though, when they feel nothing like themself anymore.

So they focus their energy on helping Lily achieve everything she sees for the future, not for any real passion for the cause at least at first, but more because they have no idea what their life is now otherwise. She sees them as a powerful symbol, a weapon of sorts, and if that gives them something to devote their life to, then they don’t mind being just that.

And it seems to work, on both accounts. They start advocating for Lily’s vision, speaking about their experiences during the war and right after, and things build. It’s a good distraction from the emptiness that they can’t quiet shake from Azkaban, the acute detachment they feel from the rest of the world now. At least they feel like they’re making a difference for Dora’s future.

6. They aren’t happy, but they notice it’s easier to ignore the dark thoughts, somehow, despite the fact that they dispense cruel justice for a living now.

It’s not a surprise when Lily becomes Minister, but for some reason before that moment it hasn’t quite hit them what that will mean for them. In her eyes, their promise hasn’t been kept yet. In her eyes, they have a bigger job to do.

When they’re given their position in the new Minister’s administration, Ted feels strange. Is this what happiness felt like, ten years ago, before it was taken for them? They don’t think so. This is purpose. And this is the opportunity to take the anger they’ve felt in the pit of their stomach since they were released and do something useful with it. 

They tell themself that they’re creating a new world, a better world.

They make the decision to erase certain specifics from their parents’ memories, a decision that they’re still not completely comfortable with, but one they know they have to make if they want to allow their parents to have a happy life. They make them believe that they were wrongfully convicted for the murder, that Andromeda didn’t leave by choice, but disappeared, and that their position in the government is on the Wizengamot. Lying to their parents is difficult––as a child, they never hid anything from each other, their parents their closest confidants––but they know it’s for the best. And they’re surprised to find that Dora seems to agree.

That’s when they start to worry, when they start noticing more and more that Dora seems to have somehow inherited all of the worst parts of them, of Andromeda, too, that they’re more genuinely interested in Ted’s position under Minister Evans than they are themself. But it’s difficult to know how to change it, or if it needs changing at all.

This is a brave new world, after all, and they’re well aware that if things went back to how they were, neither of them will survive.

INTERVIEW

How far would you go to protect those you care about?

At least that one is an easy question to answer, because Ted has answered this very question over and over again in their own mind, since before the war. “I would do anything to protect the people I care about. And I have. I’d die if it meant protecting the ones I love,” they nod, as if that’s that. To them, it is.

If you stood in front of the Mirror of Erised right now, what would you see?

They know exactly what they’d see.

They’d see themself with Andromeda, Alice and Frank, with Dora and Neville, a big, strange, happy family. It feels a little like treason, to admit that they’d see Andromeda standing there with them, arm around their waist, head tucked against their shoulder, considering who she went back to. It feels a little like treason to admit that they still have their wedding ring, sitting in a little box they keep right next to their bed, that in the middle of the night when they can’t sleep they put it on again, and try desperately to remember what it felt like to hold her. So they push that thought aside, and lie. It’s almost too easy to lie now.

“I’d see myself and Dora, safe, happy. Maybe off in a little house down in Weymouth on the beach,” they say, and it’s not exactly untrue, considering it’s something they’d very much like to have. Does it sound too much like they’re unhappy, though? They’re worried it does, always paranoid that they’ll make a misstep, end up back where they were. So they go on. “We are safe and happy now, but things are...stressful at times. I wouldn’t mind a bit of peace, if only temporarily. A vacation, of sorts, really.”

Do you believe that anything is predestined?

“For a long time, I thought so. I thought things were written in the stars. Hell, I still do a lot of the time; old habits die hard. But the stars didn’t say anything about it ending up where I am, my tea leaves didn’t tell me, my palms didn’t say any of this. So now I guess I believe that, to an extent, our lives may be outlined by the universe, but our choices can change it in a heartbeat. Take that as you will, I guess,” they finish with a shrug, an uncharacteristic indifference. Or rather, an indifference that wouldn’t have been normal of Ted Tonks talking about anything related to divination ten years before.

Ten years ago, where did you see yourself today? What would you tell your younger self, if you could?

“That’s a cruel question,” they say with a little laugh, an edge of humorlessness to it. They shift in their seat, though, their discomfort with the question clear.

When they were younger, they had never been one to look to the future, more content to live in the moment and enjoy their time in the moment. But Andromeda had changed that. She had made them excited to think about the future, and by the time they had had Dora, there was little more that they did as they were falling asleep each night than think about what their future as a family would be like.

They saw happiness in their future, then.

And now they’re not even certain they’re capable of true happiness any longer.

“I guess I saw myself still with my wife, didn’t I? I definitely didn’t see myself having been to Azkaban because of her,” they say, voice flat, disconnected. “If I could tell my younger self anything, I would tell myself not to get so comfortable. To open your eyes, and see what’s happening in front of you, and do something to change it, even if it meant temporary pain. There were so many warning signs for what was coming. I ignored them all in favor of trying to have a happy life; it was selfish. And it didn’t work. It just made everything more difficult.”

EXTRAS

inspo tag

patronus- Since Azkaban, Ted is no longer capable of producing a corporeal patronus, but it used to be a German Shepard, who looked like their childhood dog, Lancelot

wand- 12″ pear, unicorn hair, very flexible

amortentia- the ocean breeze, fresh blueberry muffins, something flowery that reminds them of nights with Andromeda, Frank and Alice

likes: summer, English beaches, rose tea, Herbology, Sunday roast, weed, psychedelics, Joni Mitchell, classical music, Freddie Mercury, sleeping naked, poetry, tattoos, spending time with family, 80s power ballads, swimming, stargazing, campfires, forehead kisses, cuddling, being outside in the rain, being barefoot, astrology

dislikes: the middle of winter, close-minded people, vodka, straight people, black coffee, aggressiveness, being alone, waking up early, cold showers, the color orange, birds, conformity for the sake of conformity, cauliflower, hypocrites, having to wear suits everyday, deadlines, hats, small spaces

headcanons

Ted is as blind as a bat, and can’t see anything clearly without their glasses. Unfortunately, they also have a tendency to lose their glasses, which results in a lot of clumsiness, a clumsiness that Dora has inherited. Because of this, they’re very good at minor healing charms, especially since they had a tendency to walk around barefoot more often than not when they were younger.

They bisexual as fuck, and also polyamorous. They grew up on the principle of free love, and practiced just that when they were younger, physical intimacy common with their friends and lovers alike. They’re the one that initially suggested the idea of polyamory between them and Andromeda and Frank and Alice.

The dozens of muggle tattoos that cover their arms and chest started when they were a teenager, and they still add to them now. They have tattoos for Dora, for their parents, tattoos for Alice and Frank, a rare ivy that Frank grew winding up their bicep and the flower that sprouted from it only at night blooming on the cap of their shoulder. They still can’t bring themself to cover the very prominent Andromeda constellation on their forearm, the stylized portrait on their chest.

They have a rather large collection of pistols that they use for their job, most of them decorated with intricately beautiful filigree. In all honesty, guns used to terrify them; their parents are hippies at heart, and raised them in a very anti-violence house. But a lot has changed for them since then.

No matter what happens, Ted always makes certain to be home in time to make and have dinner with Dora while she’s home from Hogwarts. Before Azkaban, dinner was a big deal in their family, always a family affair, the three of them, and at times Frank and Alice as well, gathering together to laugh and share their thoughts. That hasn’t changed, even if it’s just the two of them now.

On a similar note, they still do enjoy cooking; it’s one of the few things they can still find some happiness in. Most of their memories of cooking with their family growing up, and then cooking for Andromeda after Hogwarts, meals shared with Frank and Alice, are faded or tainted now, but they’ve made new memories with Dora since then.

They’re also still very genuinely interested in astronomy and divination, never quite able to break the habit of looking to the stars for answers, searching tea leaves for what is to come. They have dozens of decks of tarot cards, and specific cups dedicated to tea leaf reading.

dora

Dora is currently a 17 year old seventh year at Hogwarts, a Hufflepuff just like Ted was, but with a mischievous streak beyond theirs during their childhood.

The summer that they moved back in with Ted after their time in Azkaban, Dora came out to them as nonbinary, and started using they/them pronouns as well. They had already come out to Ted’s parents, as well as Alice.

They love using their abilities as a Metamorphmagus to explore their gender expression, but have pretty much settled on a look, mostly changing their hair instead of their overall appearance nowadays.

They’re very interested in following a similar career path as their father, a strong believer in fighting for justice in any way they can. Part of them is considering becoming a hit-wix, but Alice has been trying to convince them to become an Auror like her.

Despite everything, they look back at their childhood with fond memories, having inherited the optimism that Ted lost. They remember the time they had with their parents together happily, and only wish there had been more of it, but they liked growing up with their grandparents, liked hearing about how similar they were to Ted when they were their age, liked growing up on the beach their father had. And they’re thankful that they have them now, that they only missed a few years, no matter how vital, because they know that things could’ve been much worse.

In Ted and Andromeda’s absence, Alice became something of a mother-figure to Dora, especially once their Hogwarts letter came in the mail, and their muggle grandparents were a bit out of their depth. Even before, they had seen Alice and Frank as a second set of parents, ever present figures in their life as they grew up, and once Ted was in Azkaban, Alice became their greatest connection to the wizarding world. She took them shopping for their books and supplies, she helped them prepare for Hogwarts.

OUT OF CHARACTER:

Name: Christine Age: 24 Pronouns: they/them Timezone: GMT Activity: medium/high -- I’m a full time grad student but am usually on to do replies at least every other day Triggers: [redacted]

BASICS:

Character name: Billie Arthur Weasley Gender and pronouns: transgender woman, she/her Date of birth: 29 November, 1970 Occupation: Curse Breaker Former Hogwarts house: Gryffindor Boggart: muggles, she’s heard, call it claustrophobia, the sense of the entire room closing in around you, pushing in until you can’t breathe, but for her, it’s just strange, now -- when she was younger, her boggart had been a giant, oversized spider, its legs clickclacking as it moved towards her, but now... ever since she returned to England, it’s the feeling of being trapped, of not being able to breathe, of being buried alive.

PERSONALITY

A true Gryffindor at heart, Billie is courageous and a little reckless, and despite a fairly laid-back exterior, she’s always searching for some kind of new adventure. However, before all else she is principled and determined, never compromising her own morals or beliefs or desires for anyone else’s sake. She always sees the best in others, even when it means she ends up expecting too much or misjudging someone’s motivations. When she doesn’t get her way she can be incredibly obstinate and hold grudges.

HISTORY

one. She grows up surrounded by war. You wouldn’t know it, though. She’s eleven when the war ends, just starting her first year at Hogwarts, and the only influence of the entire thing on her life is a double funeral, the second-hand black dress robes her mother leaves on her bed the morning before, a dreary churchyard in Ottery St. Catchpole. She didn’t know her uncles Gideon and Fabian well -- at one point, her mother had been close to her older brothers, but the war had pulled them apart when the twins joined the Order and Molly distanced herself in order to keep her children safe.

She never thought it stuck with her; a simple fact of the world was that the world had been at war when she was young, and that then it had been over. That war happened, it ended, and things got better. She’s sheltered from it; which, she thinks now, is exactly what her parents wanted. What business does an eleven year old have, understanding the intimacies of war? Only, not every eleven year old is so lucky.

two. Hogwarts is easy, when she puts her mind to it. She likes learning, she makes friends with ease. She is the kind to set her mind to work easily, to get things done well, and she takes to magic fast, particularly adept at Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Her life there is, for all intents and purposes, simple; she becomes a prefect; she becomes Head Boy. She plays quidditch, for two years, and then leaves the team after a repetitive stress injury in her shoulder  in sixth year makes catching difficult and Keeping impossible.

This is not the interesting part of her story.

She meets and exceeds the expectations before her; that’s just what is done. She is driven, but not to anything in particular. Not by anything in particular, except that she is the eldest, and she is to provide a good role model for her brothers. People -- her parents, her professors -- set expectations in front of her and she does the only thing she has ever known to do. She feels a vague discomfort, sometimes, that she doesn’t understand. She kisses a few girls. She kisses a few more boys. She is generally well-liked, generally unobjectionable. But she discovers no great passion; she feels restless, for seven years.

She looks through a list of possible post-Hogwarts jobs and the required OWLs and NEWTs to get there. She thinks Curse Breaker looks fun, looks adventurous; it’s a job with a tangible goal, and it’s very, very far away from England.

three.  Molly is... well, a bit suffocating. Even with six other siblings, Billie’s Hogwarts years are filled with the constant fretting and doting and scolding, a mother’s love, sure, but honestly, a bit much, what with the Bill, darling, don’t you think it’s time for a haircut, and we’re so proud of your OWL scores, dear, only-- don’t you think Curse Breaker is a bit... well, dangerous?

It takes moving to Egypt for three years to give her the space she needs to be anything other than the child her parents wanted, the brother her siblings looked up to. The Curse Breakers she works with are a rowdy lot -- overachievers, like she had been at Hogwarts, but mellowed by time and adrenaline and the easy skillfulness with which they navigate the cramped tombs and sidestep certain death. Young and beautiful and reckless and brilliant, they inspire her, teach her how to be a little more free than she’d ever let herself be.

One, in particular, a handsome wizard a few years her senior with hair dyed and shaved like he ought to be in a muggle punk band, takes a liking to her, and Billie Weasley falls in love for the first time. Around everything else, they spend hours lying in bed talking about the world, about their world views, and he’s a strong believer in reinventing yourself without the influence of parents who expect too much of you. She doesn’t know if she agrees that her parents expected too much of her, but she does start thinking about the places where her heart doesn’t meet their expectations of her.

four. She comes out to Charlie, first. They were always the closest, their shared drive for adventure keeping them in a lockstep through most of their childhood. She came out to him first, too, when she came out as being bisexual, at sixteen, and that feels... harder, than it is now. Harder than it is to write him a letter saying, Charlie, I’m a girl.

She doesn’t know, for a long time, how to tell the rest of her family. Charlie accepts her without question, of course he does, he’s always been the type. Fred and George couldn’t care less, tell her she’s got to make her name something that still begins with B or else all those jumpers will go to waste. Ron doesn’t seem to notice that anything is different; he’s much the same as their father, that way, adapting in a slow and halting way to pronouns and the like, harmless and well-meaning. Percy thinks it’s all daft, rolls his eyes, doesn’t speak to her much at Christmas.

Ginny, eight and lonely, is ecstatic to have a sister, insists on braiding her hair and sharing her jewelry and talking about boys late at night and all the things she’s always wished she had someone to do it with. Billie humors her, holds her close, doesn’t let her notice that when she presses her face close into her sister’s hair, there are tears in her eyes.

Molly... tries, bless her. Not hard enough. But she tries, in her own way. It’s almost enough not to hold it against her. It’s enough to pretend not to.

five. She comes back to England after three years in Egypt. Temporary leave, they call it, but what it is is a bloody desk job. She can’t be trusted to do her job anymore. No, there was a tomb, just outside of what was once called Thonis, a tomb they weren’t supposed to go into -- too dangerous, one of the senior curse breakers had said, forget about it. He’d wanted to go in anyway, asked her to come, and she’d thought: it’s not safe. And in the tomb, there was a trap he didn’t notice, a rogue curse. The Healers tell her it severed his jugular, that it likely took several minutes for him to bleed out, alone in there, before he stopped breathing.

What she hears is: if you had been in there, you could have saved him. If you hadn’t been a coward, he would be alive.

She comes back to England a shell of the person she was when she left, a hollow thing. She moves back into her bedroom at the very top of her parents’ tall, tall house. It had been Percy’s, after she left, so he could have a room to himself; she doesn’t redecorate.

It is the first time she sees what has become of Britain. The first time that she, as an adult, fully wraps her head around what her world has become. And about what she has become, in her parents’ shadow. She goes to work every day, at a little desk in a back office in Gringotts; she reads the paper, every day. Starts to see the news about executions. Adjusts without much difficulty to the presence of muggles in their formerly closed-off world (he’d been a muggleborn, showed her his Sony Walkman and a handful of CDs one of their first nights together, told her about telephones and televisions and tele-everything, and it’s all she can think of when her dad buys one of each, every gadget he can get his hands on, a brand new Macintosh Classic that costs enough that Molly swats him across the head with her Witch Weekly when he tells her how much he spent).

She drifts.

six. No one can be stagnant forever. It festers.

It turns from depression to resentment, before she realizes it. And one day, sitting silently at dinner with her parents and Ginny -- it’s September, and Ron’s eleven now, so he’s started Hogwarts, and Fred and George and Percy too, and Charlie’s still in Romania with the dragons -- she snaps. She isn’t listening to the conversation but her father says something banal about an argument he overheard at work, something about the executions and the Minister, and her mother says well you wouldn’t want to get involved in all of that, save your own skin while you can, and something inside of her breaks.

She doesn’t remember what she shouts, hands shaking, as she stands up from the table, but when she thinks about it, it sounds a lot like maybe if you stood up for anything in your bloody joke of a life and she doesn’t mean it at the time but when she finds herself sitting in a pub in Diagon Alley an hour later next to Mary MacDonald, she thinks maybe she did mean it.

She thinks maybe there’s got to be more to life than saving your own skin. There’s got to be something worth fighting for, some adventure just around the next corner if only you’re willing to stick your neck out and take a risk.

She thinks maybe, maybe, there’s a reason the hat put her in Gryffindor after all.

INTERVIEW

Describe the recurring dream you’ve been having lately.

    ‘I’m, ah. I’m in Egypt again. Merlin, this is going to sound so bloody cliché. Right, Bill, bloody buried alive, how original--’

She runs a hand through her hair, then gets fed up halfway through, extracts it, pulls an elastic off her wrist and loops it quickly through the long mass of red, missing a few strands here and there.

    ‘Right, sorry. Ah, so I’m in Egypt, headed down into one of the tombs, and the tunnels are narrower than usual, like, barely broad enough across for me to stand without scraping my shoulders on the stone of the walls, so I can’t have my wand drawn as I make my way through them. And every time I reach the end of the hallway, there’s a fork, and every time, no matter which way I turn, it’s the same bloody hallway -- I can tell, the hieroglyphics are the same. But when I focus on the hieroglyphics to see if I can read them, to see if they say anything, they’re, well, they’re not hieroglyphics. They keep changing. First they’re, dunno, cyrillic probably? Then they’re Chinese characters, then they’re English but the letters don’t make up real words. And every time, as soon as they turn to English I hear someone screaming, from down the hallway, and it’s someone I know, but I can’t run because the hallway’s too narrow, and I can’t reach them because every time I turn I’m in the same hallway, and I must just exhaust myself, running in circles like that, because every time I wake up, I’m out of breath, and I never remember who it was screaming when I try to think about it...’

She’s quiet, for a moment, then clears her throat and leans back in her chair, only just realizing that she’s moved to the edge of it, dug half moons into her palms where her nails have grown too long for that kind of nervous gripping.

    ‘Sorry, bit morbid. But, er, that’s... been once or twice a week, now, for the past couple of months.’

What’s the most convincing lie you’ve ever told yourself?

    ‘That one person can’t make a difference. My mum used to say that kind of thing a lot, you can’t change the world on your own, all that. I think maybe she felt guilty, sometimes, after her brothers died, that she hadn’t done anything to help. Or maybe it was the opposite, maybe she was still mad at them for putting themselves in danger to try to make things better when they would’ve been safer at home. I don’t... know, for sure, why she did anything she’s done, but what I decide to do matters and if I keep hiding forever because I think I don’t matter, that I’m better off saving my own skin, I’m going to end up like her.’

What has been the most beneficial aspect of the Statute of Secrecy being abolished? What about the greatest deficit?

    ‘Well, my dad’s pretty chuffed about it, isn’t he? I’ve got to admit, having some muggle things around the house have been pretty nice -- the telephone, CDs, pencils are bloody brilliant. Muggle fashion’s amazing, too, much better than robes and all that. But, in all seriousness, I think we’ve gone about things all wrong -- none of this is about trying to make two worlds that have been separate for all this time coexist. It’s about building a world that works for everyone, even if that means starting from scratch. And I don’t think it’s working, this way. I don’t think it’s enough.’

Ten years ago, where did you see yourself today? What would you tell your younger self, if you could?

    ‘Ten years ago? I was twelve, I saw myself becoming a professional quidditch star, just like every other twelve year old whose ever ridden a broom. I know that’s not the point of the question or whatever, but it’s true; didn’t exactly have a remarkable sense of self at that age. What I’d tell myself, though? That’s a better question. Would’ve been bloody convenient to have realized I’m a girl before all of that puberty business, wouldn’t it?’

EXTRAS

inspo tag

details:

    wand: maple, unicorn tail hair, 11″, sturdy

    amortentia: sun cream, cider, cinnamon

    patronus: falcon

future plot ideas:

one of the things I’m primarily interested in exploring with Billie is the idea of a blind idealist who sees a sort of heroic, dramatic way of “revolution” or “saving the world” as the only way to make a difference or do something important; there’s a tension between her and Molly -- whose existence is a much quieter, more practical thing -- that I’d love to see come to a head, and see how that affects her interactions with characters like Atticus and Mary, for whom things like revolution are unavoidably a life-or-death situation. I want to see her realize she’s not entirely right in her worldview, to be forced to see things from the points of view of some of the other characters and have to come to terms with the fact that these things she believes with her entire heart aren’t necessarily as true as she thinks they are

expanded personality:

MBTI type: ENFP, the Campaigner

The Campaigner personality is a true free spirit. They are often the life of the party. More than just sociable people-pleasers though, Campaigners read between the lines with curiosity and energy. They tend to see life as a big, complex puzzle where everything is connected – but see it through a prism of emotion, compassion and mysticism, and are always looking for a deeper meaning. Luckily, Campaigners know how to relax, and they are perfectly capable of switching from a passionate, driven idealist in the workplace to that imaginative and enthusiastic free spirit on the dance floor, often with a suddenness that can surprise even their closest friends. Being in the mix also gives them a chance to connect emotionally with others, giving them cherished insight into what motivates their friends and colleagues.

enneagram type: type Eight, the Challenger

People of this personality type are essentially unwilling to be controlled, either by others or by their circumstances; they fully intend to be masters of their fate. Eights are strong willed, decisive, practical, tough minded and energetic. They want a lot out of life and feel fully prepared to go out and get it.

zodiac sign: Saggitarius

[ Quintessa Swindell, non-binary he/they ] Hey, isn’t that CHRISTOPHER “TOPHER” ROMIJN. I thought they went away for the summer? Did you hear they might be a HUMAN? What I do know for certain is that they’re 24, and they’re RIGHTEOUS and IMPULSIVE. They’re originally from LUIK, BELGIUM, and have been in FENRIRSWOOD for 2 YEARS living in FORK’S ROAD. I wonder if they still work at THE FENWAY POOL as a POOL BUDDY. Best if they stay safe for now. ( Nico, UST, they/them, 29, triggers removed for discretion )

Death tw. 

Topher is originally from Luik, Belgium, where they lived with their mother. Their mother did whatever she could to make sure there was bread on the table, and while she never showed her child, she made a lot of enemies. Topher witnessed her murder, and knowing they were an orphan now, set the house ablaze and left the city, but not before picking up their long-term girlfriend and making a run for it. 

They made it as far as Paris before the girlfriend’s family tracked them down and took her back, leaving Topher hurt by the road. 

After they regained strength, Topher spend the next four years couch-surfing, travelling from country to country and never giving a fuck. Chance let them to Fenrir’s Wood, where several acts of kindness got them a place to stay and a job. They’re grateful to the community that saved them, unaware that they are Werewolves. 

Now one of their friends has been murdered, and they want to find out what happened.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Your Name/Alias Meg Your Age 28 Your Timezone PST Your Pronouns She/her Your Discord Username [REDACTED FOR PRIVACY] Your Activity Level I live here? All jokes aside, I’m usually at home, and frequently online, and will be checking out the dash regularly throughout the day. Past RP Blogs [REDACTED FOR PRIVACY] Triggers to be Tagged animal abuse and animal death

IN CHARACTER

Desired Skeleton The Lamb Character Name and Title Lady Sérafine Carlisle, daughter of the Duke of Hamilton and Brandon Gender and Pronouns Cisfemale, she/Her Sexuality Bisexual Desired Faceclaim (May list more than one) Maddison Jaizani Introduction Oh my, haven’t you heard? LADY SÉRAFINE CARLISLE has just arrived in London! SHE is TWENTY TWO and RETURNED to London. This Author has heard all about her QUICK WIT, but it remains to be seen whether that will be enough to make up for her DOCILE NATURE. All accounts seem to indicate that she has arrived with HER FATHER and is getting ready for society. Dear Readers, This Author will be delighted to hear all about her from you!

PLOT DEVELOPMENT

Personality Traits Witty, docile, intelligent, quiet, acerbic. Birth Date/Zodiac Sign October 2nd, 1790. Libra Sun, Cancer Moon, Libra Rising. MBTI Type ISTP Biography (This must be at least 600-700 words, and can be done in any form you’d like. If you want to write this as a traditional third person biography, feel free, but it can also be done in the form of a series of letter correspondences to or about your character, a series of scenes from their life, journal entries, or anything you’d like. Feel free to get creative with it!)

TW: This biography contains references to domestic & child abuse, as well as suicide.

Marriage has always been a strange beast to Séraphine Carlisle, a sort of locked room that she has never understood how to enter, a book in a language she does not know how to translate, something that she was constantly told she would understand when she is older. She is older, now, and yet still, she does not understand it.

Her mother, a French woman born to Persian parents, fled her home country at the beginnings of the revolution, and it was in London where she met Aurelian Carlisle, and sought refuge from the guillotine within his arms. Marriage, by that metric, should be safety, should be security, should be refuge.

But marriage was miserable for Béatrice, who, upon her marriage, became Lady Béatrice Carlisle, the Duchess of Hamilton and Brandon, and the shoes of her predecessor were far too big for her to fill. Aurelian’s first wife had been an English rose, the picture of grace and humility and subtlety, while Béatrice was bursting with life and swung wildly from one extreme to another. Happiness would drive her into something akin to mania, until she was crying with her own joy; sadness, for her, was so deep and dark that it would make it impossible for her to rise from her own bed. And her marriage to Aurelian was not a happy one, at least, not after the first year, not after she was pregnant and bore him a girl, not a boy. He already had a girl, a little wild thing named Isabella who came from his first marriage and who, despite all his best efforts, still had not managed to melt into the wallpaper and fulfill her feminine duty of being neither seen nor heard.

His first wife had been appointed into sainthood in death in his eyes, as she’d died bringing his only son into the world, only for the infant to follow her into the grave hours later.

After Séraphine’s birth, Aurelian had no time for his newest daughter –– to the surprise of no one, as he certainly had no time for Isabella –– and he began to run out of time for his wife, as well, spending long hours away from the home and then long hours in their shared bedroom. Séra can remember, earlier than anything else, the sounds of screams and shouting and breaking glass coming from her mother’s room, and Isabella glaring hatefully at her.

This is your fault, her glare seemed to say. And when her father would sit at the breakfast table in the morning and stare at her without seeing, his gaze seemed to say the same, except –– detached. Less hateful, but only because he did not have the emotions to spare for her. As if he never cared about her at all. When Béatrice would join them, sometimes she would have a cut on her cheekbone, or bruises on her upper arm, and Séra began to wonder what sort of twisted version of safety was found within marriage, if her mother was so often bumping into sharp things.

She was eight when the screaming stopped, and a different sort of screaming started, a scream within her own chest that she could not seem to voice, could not seem to give sound to.

She was eight when she found her mother in her bathtub, the tub shallowly filled with thick, viscous blood, rather than water.

She was eight when her father and her older sister stopped looking at her with hate in their eyes, because they stopped looking at her at all. Marriage, she was told, was something to aspire to, something she needed, something that was expected of her. But she overheard an aunt at her mother’s funeral confiding quietly to another relative that perhaps it was marriage that killed her, and how could marriage be safety? How could marriage be security? How could marriage be anything other than a terrifying and horrible beast that took her mother from her?

From then on, little Séra was often left to her own devices, her father unwilling or unable to care about his daughters, and so she often spent her spare time in their library, in their ballroom, reading and dancing alone, practicing her curtseys in front of the mirror, practicing her smiles, practicing her soft little laugh with no one but the books to listen to her, or keep her company. She was aware, distantly, still, that marriage would be expected of her one day, but did her best not to think of it, thinking, naively, childishly, that perhaps if she could make herself into the perfect daughter, then she might be spared from the kind of fate that had befallen her mother.

She was sixteen when she met the first person who made her wonder if, perhaps, she had this whole marriage thing wrong. He was the son of a groundskeeper, and he was quiet, and he was sweet, and he would almost never look her in the eyes, as if he was too shy, as if she were too holy, and he too reverent. He would leave damask roses by her windowsill and ask her about her books, he would hum her favorite songs while he worked in the garden and she would sit by the windows, hoping to hear the faint tune drifting by on the breeze. Séra had no illusions that she could run away with him –– after all, where would they go? –– but she thought, perhaps, that if Isabella were to marry a man who would take over the duchy, perhaps she might be allowed this happiness. After all, she was the spare daughter, the one no one had asked for, the one her father didn’t even want, the one her father often derided when he was drunk and angry and could not look at her without curling his lip upwards in a sneer because you look just like your mother.

She was seventeen when Isabella ran away, off to America with some young upstart man who talked about making his fortune in a new world, and her father’s rage was so fierce and so all encompassing that she broke ties with her not quite lover immediately, out of a very real fear that if Aurelian found out she was even smiling at the son of a groundskeeper, he might very well kill him.

After Isabella’s departure, Aurelian’s temper only became worse, his drinking increasing, until Séra began to realize marriage might very well be her only escape, from the shouting, the screaming, and the breaking glass that had begun again, ten years later. But what if she married a man just like her father? Was her future doomed to forever be nothing more than one long shouting yell, echoing through the highlands of her home until there was no other sound, no other feeling, nothing, just that endless horrible scream?

She knows that as the last remaining daughter of the Duke of Hamilton and Brandon, she is required to marry, knows that she must continue on the line of her father and his father, but she also knows that if she manages to navigate the London marriage market with enough shy smiles and careful deflection, she may end up a spinster, and be able to live off of her sizeable dowry for the rest of her life, as long as she can get out from beneath her father’s thumb and influence long enough to make it happen. The only problem is that Séra’s spent years existing as little more than a sad ghost of her mother, a docile little lamb, a prized porcelain doll with cracks hidden away by fancy clothing, and she’s almost completely forgotten that she has a voice of her own, and that she need not use it only to scream.

Starter Sample (This must be a paragraph or more and include a gif or icon; this starter must be in character for the desired skeleton, and can be posted upon your acceptance to give you a jump start into the game!)

Her steps were light upon the ground, so quick and so sure that she made nary a sound as she raced through the crowd at Almack’s as fast as she could without drawing attention to herself. It was both the easiest and the most difficult thing in the world; the crowd was so thick that no Mama’s of the ton were paying her any attention, but the crowd was so thick that it was nearly impossible to make headway. Unless, of course, you were Séra, who was particularly adept at sliding through the thinnest spaces between people possible, ducking under upraised arms and spinning around a turning gentleman so she did not break her stride. It took her almost no time at all before she reached the other end of the ballroom, her eyes still fixated on her target –– the refreshments. There was a beautiful platter of almond cakes on display, dusted lightly with sugar and seeming to call out her name, drawing her in like a winged moth to a deadly flame. Just one wouldn’t hurt, would it? Or perhaps two?

She was so caught up in staring at the almond cakes, her quarry just out of reach, that she made a deadly misstep, and tripped over the train of someone’s skirt, and pitched forward with a decidedly undignified little yelp. Séra was certain she would slam into the unforgiving floor of the ballroom and braced herself for impact, terrified of what she might look like, of how she’d have to explain this to her father, only to be caught by her shoulders as the ground slipped out from under her.

“Oh!” She gasped, grabbing at her savior’s elbows, brown eyes wide as dinner plates. “Thank you,” Séra managed, her eyes still wide, her heart pounding like a hummingbird in her chest. “I’m so sorry –– I swear I’m not usually this clumsy.”

Misc. Headcanons/Pinterest Board/Playlist  CLICK HERE FOR SÉRA’S PINTEREST BOARD.

CONCERNING SCANDALS

Open Scandal (This is a scandal or rumor about your character that is an open secret within London’s ton. People may rarely remark on it, but it is something well known. Whether it is true or not is completely up to you, and will not be specified on your application –– but please let the mods know if it’s a lie!):

SUICIDE TW. Lady Béatrice Carlisle was a beautiful woman, but prone to rather ugly emotions, vacillating wildly between extreme happiness and extreme sadness, and it was that extreme sadness that led to the ugly business of her death. His Grace the Duke of Hamilton told everyone it was a sudden illness that took his second wife from him, but it was hard to hide the bandages going from wrist to elbow, something that indicated not a sudden illness, but a grievous sin indeed.

Isabella Carlisle will always be remembered as the picture of a proper young Scot, even after all that horrible business regarding the American man who whisked her off her feet and spirited her away from her homeland, off to ‘make their fortunes’ god only knows where. It’s such a shame; she would have made such a lovely duchess. Séraphine, by contrast, seems like a hearty wind might blow her away, let alone a long Scottish winter.

In Game Scandals (Part of our game relies on a scandal sheet known as The Morning Post – think of it as an in game gossip blog. Periodically, we’ll be publishing new scandals and gossip via The Morning Post based on current plots and threads between our members. If you’d like to participate in this, please bold your choice from the list below!)

I am comfortable being featured in The Morning Post in character / I am comfortable being featured in The Morning Post in character as long as the admins reach out to me ahead of time / I am not comfortable being featured in The Morning Post in character

I am comfortable with The Morning Post’s rumors having in game consequences for my character and do not need to be warned or consulted about them / I am comfortable The Morning Post’s rumors having in game consequences for my character as long as I am warned or consulted about them / I am not comfortable with The Morning Post’s rumors having in game consequences for my character

Please note: you are more than welcome to change your answers to these questions at any time. Just DM one of the admins or send a message into the main, and we’ll adjust our list accordingly!

SKILL SHEET

This part of the application concerns an in character skill sheet (sort of like a D&D stat block). You do not have to include this in the application itself, but it MUST be posted on your character blog as a task before you can interact with anyone in character. If you have questions, please reach out to the admins! You have THIRTY available skill points to use however you see fit to fill out this sheet. If you dip into negative points for a skill, you can count them as newly available points, but be aware, negative points will be flaws for you to utilize in character and in game! 1 point in a skill makes you a novice; 2 points makes you an apprentice; 3 points makes you a master. 0 points means you have not needed to attempt using this skill. -1 points means you are poor at this skill; -2 means you are horrible at this skill; -3 portends imminent disaster if you attempt to try this skill.

PHYSICAL SKILLS Croquet/Pall Mall & Golf 0 Horseback Riding & Carriage Driving -2 Fencing 3 Shooting (Dueling/Hunting) 1 Boxing 0

INTELLECTUAL SKILLS Literature & Reading 3 Mathematics & Natural Sciences 1 Geography & Politics 3 Languages (Please list those your character can speak/read, up to 3. If English is not their native language, please notate that here.) 3 - English, French, German Debate/Public Speaking 2

SOCIAL SKILLS Dancing 3 Witticisms 3 Penmanship & Grammar 3 Etiquette  3

ARTISTIC SKILLS Singing 3 Pianoforte & Harpsichord 3 Harp/Violin 0 Drawing -1 Painting 1

Gotham isn’t kind. Anyone who spends more than a day on the city’s streets can tell you that much, assuming they live to talk about it. Jason learns the rules of the back alleys and gutters quickly. There’s not much of a choice. His father is hardly around, and when he bothers coming by the shit hole apartment, he reeks like the bars he’s been kicked out of. Willis Todd isn’t a good man, but Jason knows he could be worse. Even so, when Willis stops coming by, Jason doesn’t look for him, doesn’t think about him nearly enough to miss him. 

His mother… she tries. Jason knows that. Katherine Todd loves him. For a few years, that’s enough. But Gotham takes its toll. Jason’s seven when she starts using again. He skips school now and then, when he knows she’s having her bad days, when her stash is starting to run low. The needles make his skin crawl. Even the sight of them makes him flinch. But he still does what he can to help. They take care of each other. And it’s not all bad. There are weeks, months even, when Katherine is doing better. She swears she’s going to quit a dozen times. Sometimes, Jason almost believes her. 

Jason is ten when he comes home and finds his mother on the floor. Katherine Todd never wakes up. So Jason gathers up his things and takes to the streets.

For two years, he’s alone. Jason never stays in one place for long. Not like the cops will give him a break for being a kid. Stealing keeps him alive and his quick feet keep him out of trouble. At lease, until one fateful night when he spots the most interesting car parked in Crime Alley. Stealing the wheels off the batmobile is stupid, Jason knows that even as he’s on his way back for the radio. And he’s still a little surprised when the Bat himself is there (but not too surprised to not hit him with a tire iron). 

That should be the end of it, but Batman keeps showing up. Jason helps him a couple times and then he’s getting an invite to the cave. But it’s more than that. When Batman offers him a mask, offers him Robin, Jason doesn’t hesitate. 

The next three years are the best of Jason’s life. Living with Bruce isn’t always perfect, but it’s home. Robin is a rush and Jason never gets tired of it. Helping people feels good, better than anything else ever has. But… it isn’t always enough. Gotham takes and it takes. Jason does everything he can, but still finds himself itching. Just locking up some of these scumbags won’t change things. Arkham is a joke and the cops aren’t any better. His arguments fall on Batman’s deaf ears. 

Frustrations rise until Jason goes too far. He gets benched and knows he deserves it, even if he’s too pissed to admit it. It’s that night, when he’s digging through Bruce’s files that he finds something. Katherine was his mother… in every way but blood. There’s someone out there, someone else who might want him. Jason means to run off to search. He doesn’t get first. But Bruce doesn’t stop him, in fact, he comes along for the ride. 

Months of searching take them to Sheila Haywood. She seems too good to be true, but Jason’s too desperate to care. This is his mother, how could he do anything but trust her? His trust leads him right into the Joker’s hands. Jason’s beaten, barely conscious as the bomb ticks down. 

His last thought is certain: Bruce is coming, Bruce will save him. He’s wrong. 

The next part is fuzzy, bits and pieces of a broken mind. This is what Jason knows for sure. He wakes up in his grave and no one hears him scream. Desperation gives him strength to claw his way out, though he leaves his senses back in the dirt. Jason’s never sure just how long he wanders Gotham, filthy and barely conscious, still more dead than alive. 

Talia Al Ghul finds him. Talia Al Ghul brings him back to life. And later, Talia Al Ghul will make him wish he had stayed dead in the ground. 

Jason wakes up rabid in the Lazarus Pit. When he comes to his senses, he runs straight back to Gotham, only to find his murderer still walking the streets, like his death didn’t mean a damn thing. It’s then that Talia catches up with him and gives him another wake up call. Batman has a new bird. The pictures of the new Robin, of his replacement, stare him right in the face. 

And Jason breaks. 

When Talia offers him training, he doesn’t hesitate. For years, he trains with the worst kind of scum. Jason studies with poisoners, torturers, and assassins. He learns everything they have to teach, and then he puts them down. They’re scum. The quick death he offers is better than they deserve. And through it all, Jason plans his return. 

The Red Hood mantle is meant to send a message, borrowed from the monster who put him in the dirt. Jason finds it fits him. His return is as grand as he means it to be. It just takes one show of force (and a duffle bag full of heads) and he has half the crime lords of Gotham under his thumb. 

But of course, Batman doesn’t play along. 

From there, things get… complicated. Jason does a few stints in Arkham, but he never stays locked up for long. When he’s out, he drops body after body, until he starts to slow. He still believes in what he’s doing. There are some scumbags who deserve to be put down, but… he gets better at letting some walk away. Bruce is still a piece of shit, and Jason beats his replacement bloody every chance he gets, but eventually the anger starts to fade. 

Some of the other Bats aren’t so bad. So Jason starts to hang around. Batman has his rules. It takes a while, years, but eventually, they don’t itch so much. The pain is still there, carved into Jason’s skin, but it gets easier to live with. Things aren’t always smooth, it would be weirder if they were. He settles into a rhythm. 

And then everything goes to shit. 

Jason is twenty-five when he says goodbye to Bruce for the last time. The dome goes up and rips the rest of the world away and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. For a while, he rages. The anger doesn’t get him anywhere. It rarely does. 

Now, it’s been three years and Gotham is still Gotham. It takes and it takes, and Jason is just about out of things to give.

━━━━ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

Jason has untreated and undiagnosed PTSD. It’s gotten easier for him to manage the farther he gets from his death and resurrection, but he still suffers from occasional panic attacks and nightmares.

Pride and Prejudice is his favorite book. Jason’s read it more times than he can count and can recite parts of it from memory. He’s a pretty avid reader and has too many opinions about classic literature.

After one ill advised night of drinking, Jason woke up with a Bat symbol tramp stamp. He’s never bothered getting it removed.

Jason is still legally dead. Despite many offers, he’s never bothered trying to get himself officially resurrected in the eyes of the law. This makes living a normal life a little difficult, but that rarely slows him down. 

━━━━ 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 .