[hider=My Hider] Name: Connor Lloyd Parents: Benjamin Lloyd/??? Age: 12 Gender: Male Race: Human Weapon: N/A Semblance: N/A Personality: Exuberant and endlessly curious. Connor was, and is, the kid that will always ask “why”. Not to be a pain, but because he’s genuinely curious. Always eager to make a friend, and always eager to play some sports. Underneath the surface, though, he’s a lot more mature than most kids his age. He has the tact to know when to ask certain questions and when not to. Appearance: Average height for his age, but more toned than most. Connor is a tanned, brown-haired kid with a wide grin under soft brown eyes. His hair’s a little long, and more than a little messy, but it’s hard not to see his dad in the way he beams at people. Jeans and t-shirts are the norm for him, even though they’ll be dirty more often than not halfway through the day. Biography: Connor was born a few years after BASL, now highly experienced hunters and huntresses, parted ways. It happens to most teams; they stick together for a while, preferring to work with the people they know, but they eventually drift. Take their own jobs, working with their old partners less frequently. BASL stuck together for a good long while, and still keep in touch, but they too eventually drifted. Connor’s mother disappeared not long after he was born, and Ben hasn’t elaborated on her identity. Story: “But Daaaaaaaaad.” “No buts, Connor.” Benjamin Lloyd chided his son as seriously as he could through the half grin crossing his face. The younger Lloyd reminded him a little too much of himself to be taken seriously, sometimes.He’d taken the same tone with his own father. “You know the drill. You’re not old enough to be home alone so long.When I travel, you stay with grandpa. Buddy you [i]like[/i] staying at grandpa’s.” “Yeah…” Connor’s admission was a little reluctant, but he didn’t shy away from it. He didn’t try dragging his feet to delay the inevitable, either. He hadn’t since he was ten, and Ben was thankful he never kicked up a fuss, but he couldn’t help but wish Connor wasn’t so resigned to it. He was just used to it. “How long’re you gonna be gone?” “Couple of days. One to get there, one to get back, and one to kick the monster’s butt.” Bastille’s old leader gave the same sort of cheeky grin he used to give the team, and was rewarded when Connor gave a wide smile. Against his will, he made it clear. The corners of his frown twitched, and twitched, and finally gave way to that bright expression. “Promise, I’ll be back in three, four days tops.” He gestured out the window, north through the thick forest. Towards Redwood, even if they couldn’t quiiiite see it yet. It’d be in sight in a few minutes, and it was only another fifteen minutes til the station. Ben knew the trio by heart, now. Could time it to the minute by glancing outside. He made it every few weeks, and the same trip back a few days after that. Probably should get frequent traveler miles, honestly. “Grandpa’s waiting at the station, buddy. He’ll pick you up when we stop. I heard he got you guys tickets to the Vytal Festival this year, they start this Saturday. I’ll be back before round two, I’ll tell you all about the hunters we see.” “Grandpa doesn’t like hunters, Dad.” [i]Well. he’s got me there.[/i] “Yeah, but he knows you do. He might not watch them by himself, but he loves taking you to games.” Connor was quiet a moment, which really only meant one thing. Ben could hope, and wish, and pray it wasn’t so… But it was. He’d hit dog-with-a-bone status. “Why doesn’t he like hunters?” “... Well, he didn’t want me to be one.” The elder Lloyd started, crossing his arms while he thought about the question. There was no good way to go about it, but he couldn’t wiggle out of it, either. “He thinks it’s dangerous.” “Is it?” “It can be.” He admitted, glancing at the massive, worn teardrop shield leaning against the seat next to him. A faint hint of a wry grin crossed his face. “It [i]is[/i], honestly. If you’re not good at it. And you don’t have someone watching your back.” “So…” The smaller Lloyd looked at the shield, frowning quietly to himself. You could hear the cogs turning in his head. Ben could, at least. Same ones that used to turn when his dad told him it was dangerous. His dad had the same thought, even if his conclusion was different. And Connor’d get to decide for himself, too. “Why do you do it? If it’s dangerous, why can’t someone else do it?” “If everyone said that, who’d do it?” “... No one.” “Exactly. If everyone turned away because it was hard, no one’d do it. I do it because I can, and because someone needs to.” “...” Connor took a deep breath, and stared at the ground for a long few minutes. “... I think Grandpa was scared you wouldn’t come back.” … “Are you scared of that?” “Is that what happened to Mom?” “No.” [i]That[/i] was a curveball. Ben frowned, drawing Connor into a tight hug before he’d even really realized. The knight’s first thoughts were of wringing his own dad’s neck, but it wasn’t his fault. Connor wasn’t spouting off his grandfather’s old tirades, these were new. And genuine. He didn’t even need to think about it to know. He always thought Connor might worry about whether he’d come back one day. His old classmates, at least the ones that were parents themselves, said the same thing. But this one never occurred to him. “No, it isn’t. Your Mom’s fine, she just can’t be with us right now.” “Slate never gets left alone. Amy or Lauren stay home, they don’t go on missions at the same time.” “Yeah. I know.” His grip tightened, while he tucked his son’s head under his chin. “I know, Connor. I… I’m working on it. A few more jobs. Then I can just do work in Vale, make sure I’m home every night. Just need to save up a little more money first.” “Just want you to be around.” Connor said quietly, hugging his dad tightly. “Don’t want to go to Grandpa’s anymore. Just want you to be home. Mom too. Just want… Wish we could [i]all[/i] go see the Vytal Festival. Like Slate’s family.” “I know, buddy.” Bastille’s old leader said quietly. “Me too.” [/hider]