.y1 application.

[professionalcorpse]

GENERAL

NAME: Sebastien Lacroix
NICKNAMES: Bash, usually. Or Bastien. Seb, less frequently. (His sisters tend to call him Guppy. It's deeply tragic and embarrassing and he doesn't want to talk about it. He's moved on. We've all moved on. Yup. Let's all just get with the moving, then.)
AGE/DOB: 15 . June 29^th
BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood
GENDER/PRONOUNS: Male . he/him
SEXUALITY: Panromantic Homosexual (Dudes, he may not be some battle-hardened warrior down in the proverbial romantic trenches, but his mom's a therapist. He's read some serious, textbook material in his time. Her sex lectures came with slides. And annotated printouts.)
HOMETOWN: Canarsie, Brooklyn, New York

CONCEPT: Freckle-faced disaster deserves gold star for trying. Probably.

PHYSICAL

APPEARANCE: Bastien is long and lanky and looks like he hasn't eaten a single good meal in the last decade. (This is blatantly untrue. He eats like someone with a tapeworm. Said hypothetical tapeworm even has a name. It's Frederick, if anyone was wondering.) And while he looks like his sisters, he seriously needs to have his dad around if he wants people to believe that his mom didn't just pick him up in a cabbage patch somewhere.

His clothing is often rumpled and/or missing vital bits like ties or, y'know, buttons - and, when at home, it's usually covered in tiny little-girl hand prints. But the uniform definitely is a thing that mostly happens. It definitely tries to happen. Outside of class, his shirts may or may not have ridiculous pictures/sayings on them and his sneakers may or may not be an alarming shade of lime green. (He'll throw on his uniform blazer occasionally, though. Just to keep things classy.)

Independent Sister Survey has provided the following sound bites: "Jesus Christ, Bash. Put on a some clothes. Nobody wants to see that shit." "Are those my pants? Those are my pants. Why do you even fit in those? Take those - Not now, dipshit!" "What color even is that? How do you not know how to dress yourself by now?" "Guppy! Get out of my - Why the hell do you have a tape recorder? You know what? No. I don't even want to know. Get out."

Whatever. His mom says he's handsome.

HEIGHT: 5'6"

PB: Cameron Boyce

PERSONALITY

LIKES: pastries, sourpatch kids, rollerball pens, terrible movies, caffeine (he's generally not allowed to have it, but he likes it), babysitting, Godzilla, jellybeans, video games, gigantic monster puppies, taking care of people, naps, boys, physical contact, dancing (poorly), zombies (well, not actual zombies because that would be horrible), eating

DISLIKES: sad-looking females, clowns (creepy fuckers), glitter, spiders, people pinching his cheeks, babysitting, ADHD meds, parental disappointment, hair ties with metal bits, actual zombies, the taste of envelope glue, non-flavored chapsticks

PERSONALITY:

Sebastien Lacroix is a person of -ests. He's grew up trying very hard to be the loudest, the funniest, the smartest - probably because he wasn't naturally, but the point still stands: It's all about the -ests. He compulsively collects them. He speaks quickly, gestures expansively, and acts as though everything that comes out of his mouth the Most Important Information that you will ever hear in the entirety of your life. Because it is. He swears it to whatever gods you feel like worshiping at that particular moment.

Bash throws himself into any and all situations like they're an Olympic sprint and he needs to win gold or his country's going to sacrifice him after the race is over. He overcompensates and tries to cover as many bases and physically possible. He doesn't lack social savvy or even the understanding of restraint, he just sometimes lacks the means to exercise restraint. Kid needs some handling, is all.

And he absorbs information like a sponge. Granted, a lot of it is useless information and random bits of pop-culture, but he retains it and is able to spit it all back out on command. Like a child who was locked in a hyperbolic chamber with nothing but streaming video of commercials, TMZ, and VH1's 'I Love The (Insert Time Period Here).' He spent a lot of his time on a couch with his dad. They're really good at Jeopardy. When he bothers to apply this to academics, it's somewhat intimidating how eagerly and enthusiastically smart he can be. Often lost in segues and needing to be forcefully tugged back to reality by his ear, but smart. (He's getting better about it. Possibly because people have learned to just tell him explicitly what they expect him to do.)

Bash's good with the minutia of things - he likes seemingly irrelevant facts and the small, fiddly puzzle pieces. (Like when there's a whole puzzle of blue? Dude, he's entertained for hours. Pulling out his hair - but entertained.) He doesn't exactly possess the genius for invention. He can whip up simple things in no time at all, but he's far more successful with taking the things that others have made, ripping them apart, and putting them back together better. He can see all those little places where things have holes. And he knows what to metaphorically fill them with. If your potion's going wrong, he can tell you exactly how to fix it with great enthusiasm and copious detail. If his potion's going wrong, however, it's probably because he got distracted by yours and left it there to explode.

It doesn't necessarily look like it at first glance - and if he doesn't actively respect a person, it won't look like it at the thirteenth glance either - but Bastien is someone who is very good with authority. He works hard and listens to people he considers to be in charge of him with an unusual attention to detail. (Well, an unusual attention to the right details.) Being given direction is good for him - and he's good at taking directions. It makes him a good Prefect, despite all external signs to the contrary. There are rules. He's supposed to follow them. So are you and here is an itemized list of the reasons why doing so is probably a good idea. Several of them involve the gradual unraveling of your future, a life of listlessness and potential drug addition, and possibly living in a box on a street corner with bad credit, few prospects, and no friends.

(Okay, so the parental lecture on the importance of balancing a checkbook possibly traumatized him for life.)

At the heart of it, Bash really is a dedicated little shit. He loves his family and will defend his demonic horde of sisters with every last wiry and ineffectively-built-for-combat-situations inch of himself. He's the same way for people he considers his friends. (Particularly girls. He holds open doors and remembers birthdays and will totally go and get you tampons at three in the morning because he loves you and, hell, why not? Anything that even vaguely resembled shame within him had been purged from his body long before he got to Gooseberry. You want your horrifically embarrassing feminine hygiene products? Sure. He's your man.)

HISTORY

FAMILY MEMBERS:

Oliver Lacroix . Father . 51 . Muggle (with Magical Siblings) . Former construction worker. Current rolling-person writing sarcastic shit on the internet for money.
Rose Lacroix (nee [OPEN]) . Mother . 48 . Squib . Therapist for MACUSA, working primarily with Aurors suffering from PTSD.

Elizabeth . Sister . 30 . Half-blood . Kindergarten teacher. Like another mom. But more willing to smack him upside the head.
    Anthony . Brother-In-Law . 34 . Half-blood .
    Sarah . Niece . 5 . Small.
    Grace . Niece . 2 . Smaller.
    Megan . Niece . Infant . Smallest.

Georgia & Winnie . Sisters . 19 . Half-blood . Freshly graduated and with no idea what the hell they're doing with their lives.

Ariel . Twin . Squib . Rude.

They are the collective disaster that happens when your older siblings are allowed to name you. (He called her Fins. She called him Guppy. Which, let's be real frank here people, is totally inaccurate. Sebastian's the crab. He doesn't understand why this shit even happened. One of the two stuck. And it wasn't the one that ruined her social life for thirteen years. Naturally.) She's amazing and is about 87% of his social checks and balances. He's a bit lost without her and mails her constantly. It's probably an actual problem for the postal system. But she also laughed at him when he found out that he made Prefect. So she's kind of an asshole. Don't get too excited.

Gram . Maternal Grandmother . Half-Blood . Flat refuses to tell him what she did for a living. About 99.8% sure that means she was a hit-witch.

Veronica [OPEN] . Maternal Aunt . Half-Blood . Curse-breaker.
    Steven [OPEN] . Uncle . Half-Blood . Auror.
    [OPEN] . Cousins . Second battalion of the demonic hoard.

HISTORY:

Sebastien Lacroix grew up with a healthy respect for women. No, more than healthy. Possibly something more akin to a persistent, low-level terror.

He was the final product of a brief, but impassioned quest for a son to 'Not leave me alone in this goddamn madhouse, Rose.' One that really just spiraled into a hostile takeover by individuals of the female persuasion. Bastien has four older sisters (his dad likes to say that it'd be less, but they came in pairs - Bash really isn't sure who exactly this is meant to insult, shit's a bit up in the air with that one), his gram lives in the apartment on the third floor, and he's got three nieces. (So far.) He's like some poor bastard that got abandoned on Themiscyra. It's horrifying. He's had way more enforced manicures and make-over failures than any man should be expected to endure and remain even questionably sane.

His parents lived a life that straddled the magical and non-Magical world with a sort of teeter-tottering enthusiasm that came both with great opportunity and awkward skittering around secrecy and misunderstandings within both cultures. His father was the non-magical sibling of two accomplished witches and his mother was a Squib born into a long line of mixed-blood branches of a family tree with deep roots. His father shrugged off the dishes washing themselves and guests Apparating into the hall with a well-practiced ease and his mother stormed MACUSA with a PhD in Psychology from Columbia University. They had a Nintendo 64 in the living room and Fanged Geraniums in the front garden. He and Ariel crammed their asses onto the same bus back home from Squib School every weekend.

He grew up in a house that was loud and fast and constantly busy and, as the youngest (barely - thirteen minutes doesn't count, Ariel) brat in the menagerie, learned very quickly that if you wanted to be noticed you had to make some serious and concerted effort. (Also: That if you wanted to use the bathroom in the morning you had to use teeth. And not feel reluctant to push people of a female-persuasion into walls.) So Bastien was loud. And Bastien moved fast. And Bastien was constantly being dragged around somewhere by someone, so he was pretty sure that counted as being busy. So that was a pretty decent amount of life-goals achieved before he'd even hit double-digits.

When Bash actually got around to a school-appropriate age, he fell quite naturally into the stereotypical behavior of a loud-mouthed class clown. He bounced and he twitched and he could never manage to sit still or stay quiet for nearly as long as the rest of the students. He made more than one teacher want to pull their hair out at the roots - but he was also a brilliant little thing, terrifyingly competent and insatiably curious and totally earnest about it. (He was That Kid. The one that reminded teachers about assignments and asked questions two minutes before recess because he just really wanted to know. He has since learned this is not a socially appropriate behavior if you want people to actually like you. Whoops.) So people just - Well, people just got used to him after a while. He grew on them. Like a particularly charming fungus.

All in all, it wasn't a bad existence by any means. A few of his teachers thought that he should probably be medicated or something - and they might've been legitimately onto something there - and nobody ever let him win at Pretty Pretty Princess despite his frankly unparalleled ability to wear tiaras - which was, quite frankly, both bullshit and discrimination - but they were happy. And a person can't really complain about being happy. (Well, they could. But what the fuck. Seriously. Calm down.)

The accident occurred when Bash was ten and it was just that: An accident. Nothing more than the few long blocks home from work and a reckless drunk driver and suddenly everything went a bit pear-shaped and utterly balls. His dad ended up in a no-maj hospital and in surgery before his mom was even notified. Which, not complaining or anything. No-maj doctors are awesome and being not-dead is pretty much his favorite thing for his dad to be! Just - Thing healers cannot do: Erase preexisting conditions when said preexisting conditions were very precarious and located very close to spinal nerves.

(Another thing magic cannot do: Reverse events without consequence. Even if the events are really shit. He checked. Though he's watched enough bad sci-fi and horror to know that you don't mess with that stuff unless you want to Marty McFly yourself.)

So his dad ended up in a wheelchair. A real good, souped up one. And, subsequently, a good 87% of the detentions Bash earned in his last three years at school were due to 'Escape From Alcatraz'ing his way out of the joint to show up for his father's physical therapy sessions. He was pushy little loudmouth that asked way too many questions of doctors and healers alike and borderline-psychotically encouraged his dad to get his arm muscles marathon-ready and shredded as all hell. Dude was a fucking badass and he wasn't allowed to give up and languish. (Bastien wasn't allowed to leave school either. But, hey. They worked things out.)

His scholarship letter to Gooseberry was kind of unexpected? But also not. Because he kind of massacred the hell out of the bell curve for his yearmates. (It was the only way his dad was covering his ass in the great Detention Game. But, worth it.) Months without access to his sisters was weird and kind of horrible? Like - in a Person Suffering from Lifetime Stockholm Syndrome kind of way? Cabin full of dudes was very different from household full of females. He was jittery and anxious and he's pretty sure that Ms. Rhee wrote his mom about how to handle his ass, because woman really knows how to play him like a fiddle at this point.

SCHOOL

YEAR: Sophomore (Grade 10)
HOUSE: Ebonhide
SORTING: Bash was one of those holdouts that got themselves dragged out of the Sorting Cave by their ear. Ebonhide just happened to draw the fuzzy end of the proverbial lollipop on that one as it were. It wasn't that he was being uncooperative or anything! He just - he had questions. (And, to be entirely fair, he'd been all but begging the bear to teach him how to be 'some zen-yoga style ninja of calm and collectedness, seriously my mom would be so proud of me' anyway. And he wasn't exactly joking about it. About the calm. So it worked out? Ish. Whatever, Ms. Rhee loves him.)
WAND: 9" Hazel & Dragon Heartstring
FAMILIAR: He doesn't have one. He does, however, have a Great Dane named Godzookie back at home. Zookie's a beautiful klutz. They get each other on a spiritual level.

CLASSES:

Core : Hermeticism, History of Magic, Outdoor Education, Potions, Transfiguration
Electives : Astronomy, Outdoor Education

SENIOR PROJECT: Hahaha. Right.
ACADEMIC PERFORMANCE: Bash likes to joke that he jacked all Ariel's magic in-utero - and she replies that she jacked all of his good looks and common sense. (She's way less joking. Which is frankly hurtful.) He does well in most academic courses - probably drives most teachers up the proverbial wall unless they're a bit firm with him - but he knows his stuff and goes all in for the learning process. Though Ariel was always better at Potions prep than he was. Outdoor Education is the bane of his city-dwelling existence, but Kele asked and he's a total sucker. He probably isn't failing. He just sucks and is an uncoordinated disaster.

EXTRACURRICULARS: Gaming, LARP, Outdoor Exploration (Again. He was asked. Also-again: He sucks at most of the Exploration of the outdoors around-about as much as he sucks at the Education in it.)

OOC

NAME: Jackie
EMAIL: yourbodyanditsbones@gmail.com
CDJ: andwhyevernot
OTHER PREFERRED CONTACT:
TIME ZONE: EST