Andrew Worth
Ravenclaw
blood status:
Muggle born
age:
11 | October 2 | Libra
gender:
Cis male
personality:
Andrew's mother, Dr. Amanda Worth (née Hallcrest), was always the more vocal of the Hallcrest siblings. Outspoken and ever-ambitious, Amanda wasn't ever preoccupied with what other people thought. It would be nice for Andrew to say that he took after his mother in that respect; he never knew her well enough to say.
Amanda Worth and her husband John Worth died in the Hallcrest Estate fire of 2013. Andrew's uncle, Alexander Hallcrest-Wyrm, adopted him immediately.
Over the past four years, Andrew's blended as well with the Hallcrest-Wyrm family as one might hope. The transition made as painless as possible by way of an already close relationship with the second youngest Hallcrest-Wyrm girl, Hero. The two were born on the same day, and raised more as siblings than as cousins, even before the fire.
In point of fact, it had been Hero who'd dragged Andrew from the wardrobe he'd been hiding in when the Estate fire strarted. Hero who'd slung her cousin's body over her back when he'd fainted. Hero who'd dragged him to the lawn, as emergancy vechiles tore down the driveway. To say Andrew goes more than a few days without point out his cousin-turned-sister's tendency to live up to her name would be a brazen lie.
Hero and Andrew are more or less inseparable. Which can be a problem when a dispute surfaces between the two; neither of them likes to lose. Their arguments are few and far between; Andrew usually wins. Both Andrew and Hero know from that start that eventually, her temper is going wins out against her ability to form a rebuttal.
It's Hero who taught Andrew about the tides. About the glaciers that shaped the cliffs. Hero that feeds his incessant need to move his hands with $4 trinkets from the pawn shop she frequents, that nobody is hurt by him taking apart.
If you asked him, Andrew'd be hard pressed to come up with a memory that didn't involve his cousin in some fashion. Even during his trek to the Point for his 4AM crab-observations – the ones Hero refuses do with him, because sane people sleep; Hero's the one who showed him the best way to sneak around the fence that bordered the parking lot near the ledge.
Smug | "I told you this was a bad idea."
Cerebral | "Let's worry more about what he said and not how he said it."
Inquisitive & Nervy | "...poke it again."
Determined | "Well, no. Your idea was awful. But say we tried it like this."
Impish | "Trust me, it'll be hila-a-arious."
Squeamish | "I think... I think I'm gonna be sick..."
Competitive & Jealous | "Oh, come on. Anyone could have thought of that."
Amanda Worth and her husband John Worth died in the Hallcrest Estate fire of 2013. Andrew's uncle, Alexander Hallcrest-Wyrm, adopted him immediately.
Over the past four years, Andrew's blended as well with the Hallcrest-Wyrm family as one might hope. The transition made as painless as possible by way of an already close relationship with the second youngest Hallcrest-Wyrm girl, Hero. The two were born on the same day, and raised more as siblings than as cousins, even before the fire.
In point of fact, it had been Hero who'd dragged Andrew from the wardrobe he'd been hiding in when the Estate fire strarted. Hero who'd slung her cousin's body over her back when he'd fainted. Hero who'd dragged him to the lawn, as emergancy vechiles tore down the driveway. To say Andrew goes more than a few days without point out his cousin-turned-sister's tendency to live up to her name would be a brazen lie.
Hero and Andrew are more or less inseparable. Which can be a problem when a dispute surfaces between the two; neither of them likes to lose. Their arguments are few and far between; Andrew usually wins. Both Andrew and Hero know from that start that eventually, her temper is going wins out against her ability to form a rebuttal.
It's Hero who taught Andrew about the tides. About the glaciers that shaped the cliffs. Hero that feeds his incessant need to move his hands with $4 trinkets from the pawn shop she frequents, that nobody is hurt by him taking apart.
If you asked him, Andrew'd be hard pressed to come up with a memory that didn't involve his cousin in some fashion. Even during his trek to the Point for his 4AM crab-observations – the ones Hero refuses do with him, because sane people sleep; Hero's the one who showed him the best way to sneak around the fence that bordered the parking lot near the ledge.
Smug | "I told you this was a bad idea."
Andrew, like most eleven year olds, understands how the world works. He's... vocal about his opinions, and "the way he figures it". Cocky, is a good word. And although Andrew's willing enough to admit when he's wrong, he won't shut up when something he's insisted on – or even just implied – turns out to be right.
Cerebral | "Let's worry more about what he said and not how he said it."
Andrew does his level best to think with his head. He's not a fan of his gut, or his heart, leading his brain into situations it can't reason its way out of. When faced with a decision or a dilemma, Andrew will, almost without fail, choose "the logical path".
This has been the root for each of Andrew's serious spats with Hero, who by and far prefers doing what feels right, rather than what makes sense.
This has been the root for each of Andrew's serious spats with Hero, who by and far prefers doing what feels right, rather than what makes sense.
Inquisitive & Nervy | "...poke it again."
Andrew thinks more than he acts. More than he speaks. He has whole notebooks full of charts and graphs. "Observations," he calls them. "Data." He won't say what he's collecting data for, but he is constantly, constantly writing.
Andrew's always eager to drag Hero to see something, and just as eager to be dragged. Despite not being the boldest kid, Andrew's got an itch to explore, to understand why, as much as how. He might be skittish and jumpy the whole time he's breaking into the abandoned glass factory down the way, but you wouldn't be able to pay him to go home.
Andrew's always eager to drag Hero to see something, and just as eager to be dragged. Despite not being the boldest kid, Andrew's got an itch to explore, to understand why, as much as how. He might be skittish and jumpy the whole time he's breaking into the abandoned glass factory down the way, but you wouldn't be able to pay him to go home.
Determined | "Well, no. Your idea was awful. But say we tried it like this."
When Andrew wraps his fingers around a question or a goal, he clamps tight and doesn't let go until it's wrestled away from him. He's lost sleep trying to complete what he calls "personal projects" by morning. He's lost friends because he wouldn't sacrifice time he had designated for studying to see them. Self control, it's safe to say, is not among Andrew's gifts.
Impish | "Trust me, it'll be hila-a-arious."
There's nothing Andrew enjoys more than getting the best of someone. He's a prankster, constantly bouncing ideas off of his cousin for the best way to goad their older siblings, or their least favorite teacher. The look on people's faces when they realize they've been made to look like a fool is thrilling, to Andrew. Especially when the person in question thinks they're somehow better than him, or Hero, or the people around them.
Putting people in their place, he thinks, is something more people should experiment with.
Putting people in their place, he thinks, is something more people should experiment with.
Squeamish | "I think... I think I'm gonna be sick..."
Andrew can't stand the sight of gore. He's been afflicted with a weak stomach since well before he can remember, and seeing something flayed or dismembered, seeing anything bent in ways they shouldn't be, trigger the reflex like nothing else.
Hero takes no small amount of glee in leaving him cartoon drawings of dead birds. Andrew, no small amount of joy in punching his cousin square in the jaw.
Hero takes no small amount of glee in leaving him cartoon drawings of dead birds. Andrew, no small amount of joy in punching his cousin square in the jaw.
Competitive & Jealous | "Oh, come on. Anyone could have thought of that."
Andrew likes feeling accomplished. He likes feeling like he's done the best he can, and he likes imagining that his best is better than anyone else's. He's eager to be on top, and although he might'nt push anyone off the ladder to get there, he'd definitely make snide comments as they climbed. And if he bumped their ladder? Well, it'd be an accident. He'd have an itch. You get it, I'm sure.
appearance:
Andrew is shorter than Hero, but not altogether short. He's lithe though, delicately built – he takes after his father in that regard. His torso's outgrown his body, leaving his arms looking too long when held against his legs. He has curly, strawberry blond hair, and skin that burns too easily.
His lips are full; his teeth slightly crooked. His left incisor's been wedged out of place by a now-lost eyetooth, leaving him with a slight lisp. His father wanted him to get braces; his mother thought it added character. He had her smile, she said. That he'd grow out of the lisp given time, just like she did.
Andrew's eyes are gray, although he squints so often it's hard to tell that they're anything beyond set into slits.
You won't find Andrew without some kind of ugly hat. Gifts from Hero, the lot. She goes out of her way to buy him whatever visually assulting headgear she can find at the thrift store. He goes out of his way to never stop wearing them.
Hats, he says, keep his otherwise unruly, shoulder-length hair out of his eyes, and off his neck. When asked why he doesn't just cut his hair instead of having to constantly stuff it back into a hat, Andrew changes the subject.
His style of dress, hat aside, is more simple than it isn't. A solid colored t-shirt and jeans are the go to. He tries not to get very attached to his clothes; they're ruined too easily.
He wears a necklace Hero made him everywhere. The lace is three bits of packing twine, braided together. A red bottlecap with filed edges dangles from the end. Glued to the silver underside: a field mouse's femur bone-- bleached white by the sun.
His lips are full; his teeth slightly crooked. His left incisor's been wedged out of place by a now-lost eyetooth, leaving him with a slight lisp. His father wanted him to get braces; his mother thought it added character. He had her smile, she said. That he'd grow out of the lisp given time, just like she did.
Andrew's eyes are gray, although he squints so often it's hard to tell that they're anything beyond set into slits.
You won't find Andrew without some kind of ugly hat. Gifts from Hero, the lot. She goes out of her way to buy him whatever visually assulting headgear she can find at the thrift store. He goes out of his way to never stop wearing them.
Hats, he says, keep his otherwise unruly, shoulder-length hair out of his eyes, and off his neck. When asked why he doesn't just cut his hair instead of having to constantly stuff it back into a hat, Andrew changes the subject.
His style of dress, hat aside, is more simple than it isn't. A solid colored t-shirt and jeans are the go to. He tries not to get very attached to his clothes; they're ruined too easily.
He wears a necklace Hero made him everywhere. The lace is three bits of packing twine, braided together. A red bottlecap with filed edges dangles from the end. Glued to the silver underside: a field mouse's femur bone-- bleached white by the sun.
wand material:
Vine | 9 inches | Dragon Heartstring | Supple
The moment Andrew and his cousin stepped into Ollivander's, a box on the far end of the wall all but threw itself to the floor. Ollivander had slipped out from behind the counter and scooped the box from the floor. Andrew had cocked a brow. (Hero had slipped behind the counter and started pawing through cases.)
When Ollivander had plucked the smooth beige wand from its case, it jumped again, nearly out of the wandmaker's hands, toward Andrew. Andrew had his misgivings about being "assigned a wand," but conceded to Ollivander's insistence that the wand had "chosen him," after enough goading.
The wand is rather plain – too short for Andrew's tastes; it fits in his hand well. The shaft is adorned with delicate swirls, more reminiscent of a fern unfurling with dawn's impression than anything else. There's no obvious handle on the thing.
Despite it's eagerness to find Andrew's hand, the wand seems still to have a mind of its own. Rather like it wants to finish Andrew's sentence before he can, and winds up misjudging the word he'd wanted to use. "Ducking useless."
boggart:
Hero: her back turned, her mouth fixed with a sneer. Rejecting him. Telling him she's only tolerated him because she feels bad for him. That she doesn't need him the way he needs her. That she doesn't love him, after all.
other:
- The only person who actually knows what he's doing is Hero, and she's been sworn to secrecy. In return for her silence, Andrew's pledged his own, for her.
- Andrew would never admit it, but he actually doesn't love the hats Hero buys him. He wears them because she loves them.
