Post by Deleted on Oct 21, 2013 1:06:03 GMT -5
* - - Robin. Thatch. Carroll. - - *
Name ;; Robin Thatch Carroll
Nickname(s) ;; Robin, Doc, Char, Dr. C, Uncle, Thatch Patch
Age ;; 24
Birthday ;; June 22
Gender ;; Male
Species ;; Demi-God
Immortal Parent ;; Venus
Years at Camp ;; 10yrs, Retired
Celebrity Claim ;; Rupert Grint
Appearance ;;
Not quite the biggest guy in camp, he's still a rather tall individual standing at 6' 1" with a light amount of muscle on him. Lean muscle that hides just below his fair skin, he's worked out well enough to be a good fighter. Not a power house like some of the others, but perhaps the type of muscle you'd find on a child of Mercury, or other finesse based fighter. While he can adjust his hair color, even how curly or straight it is, it's naturally a copper color with the tendency to curl just a bit towards the ends. Soft as down when you touch it, he's rather proud of how much people like to touch or even try to braid his hair. Complimentary olive green eyes have a slightly mischievous twinkle to them. The type of eyes that can see right through the face you put on to the public. His lips, often pulled into a gentle caring smile, have a soft pink hue to them.
Personality ;;
Robin tends to give off that feeling of a friendly counsel, someone who cares about you and wants you to excel. Perhaps because that really is the type of person that he is. He loves people, genuinely cares about every person that he meets and what they are going through. Though he had been known to be a bit judgmental in his youth, he's come to learn that there really is no way to judge a person by how they are on the outside. He will never compare one persons anguish to anothers, knowing that each person deals with things differently. What may be painful for you may not be painful for them and vice-versa. Talking to people is not only a pass time he enjoys very much, but it's also part of his job. He's fairly happy every day of his life because of that decision. To do forever something he loves to do.
Something he has found in himself, but will not tell others, is how broken up he still feels about the passing of what could have been his family. He does this while advising the people around him to never keep something to themselves. He knows how to best handle himself, but refuses to, perhaps out of that simple Roman stubbornness. He's a bit afraid to love others, and entirely afraid of people truly loving him. Knowing the pain of loss all too well, he tries to help other people over come it without taking his own advice. He knows this is stupid and counter productive, but he hasn't found anyone he wants to talk about it with. Perhaps if he found someone he trusted, and was comfortable with he'd allow it to come out on his own. Though he'd never offer it up as free information.
To ladies, no matter who they may be, or their age, he will act as a gentleman. For guys he'll be a friend, and polite to everyone. Offering his arm and slightly flirting with girls is normal for him, and takes a little bit of thinking to avoid. He means his words playfully, without attempting to gain attention from a female, and will immediately stop should he be asked. He doesn't pursue anyone who prefers to not be touched, however he is up for hugs from anyone. He offers them freely, because everyone needs one at sometime. Though he is a firm believer in hugs being as necessary for a healthy person as vegetables, he won't attempt to push his beliefs on you.
Powers ;;
Robin is able to sense how someone feels about another person in terms of how much and in what way they love them. The love of a friend, or child, parent, sibling, or lover are all different and he's able to tell which and how much they feel for each other. He is also minority able to control the feelings of love and lust. He can not outright make someone fall in love, but he can start or dismiss, little crushes or something similar in all the forms of love.
Minor glamor is also a part of what he can do, changing his hair color or eye color a bit isn't hard for him to do. He can't change mass or anything, just the hue and body of his own hair and eyes which will go back to their natural color when he's unconscious. Skilled in the art of fashion and coordinating he can do make up, or design clothes, though chooses not to leaving the natural skill underdeveloped.
Family ;;
History ;;
The little bundle of joy that was Robin, was left to his father Phillip. He was a loud obnoxious child, crying easily and often. His father had no idea what he had gotten himself into at first, having a one night stand with the most beautiful woman in the world seemed like a great idea at the time. She was more loving and caring than any woman he had ever known before. He bought her clothes, and gifts, and ran wild with her the short time they were together. Months later he had a child to take care of by himself. Thankfully it was a boy, and if nothing else he hoped he could handle a little boy. If he had a girl he was fairly certain his wallet would never be full.
Robin didn't exactly grow into the nicest child. He knew how to deal with people, and did what it took to be the center of attention and get his way. He never bullied people physically, but verbally and socially he did it easily. Mocking other kids, even in elementary school he was harsh and demanding. Teachers loved him, he knew exactly how to play the adults. He wasn't the smartest, but he did try. In truth he envied everyone around him. The families, the friends. All he had felt artificial. His father loved him, cared for him as best he could, but was often busy. He bought him gifts for all the major holiday's, his birthday, and even just because it was something his dad thought he would like. As he grew older he felt he wasn't loved. His father simply bought him gifts, that wasn't love. In middle school he watched kids hug their parents after plays, or soccer games, or something of the sort. He was never that good at sports, so he gave a try at drama club. Staring in a few plays, his popularity easily getting him whatever spot he wanted. His father would always come, always be there and it made him happy. He never hugged him, or patted him on the head, or shoulder, anything of the sort. Though the words of praise seemed to make him feel a bit better.
Then his father sent him off to that terrifying wolf, leaving him to the wolf house with only a small explanation. He trusted his father, he never lied to him, except maybe about the Easter Bunny, Santa, the Tooth Fairy, Mounters, maybe a few other things. Still he trusted him, that his mother was Venus. He wasn't sure exactly what that meant, he was ten and History or Religion was not at the top of his list for things he knew. He knew what gods were, kind of, and he was half that. Fighting his way through the wolf goddess' training, there were a few times she threatened to eat him. Still she praised him with words, and a nudge here or there. It wasn't the complete lack of human physical contact he had for years with his father. It was kind of nice. He grew really attached to Lupa, and worked much harder for her than he thought he would.
The time came to leave, and he had grown much stronger. Sucking it up he didn't cry leaving his mentor, though sad to leave, and fought his way to Camp Jupiter. Upon reaching the camp he was exhausted, the heavy scent of an Olympian demigod with little natural skill for fighting, or special powers over the elements. It was difficult for him, but he managed some how. He trained harder than any of the other probatio's that were with him, he felt he had to. Some part of him didn't want to let Lupa down. Miraculously he was sorted into First Cohort, sending a message to Lupa despite finding out that she trained everyone. He wanted to keep in touch with her, even if she couldn't exactly reply back. He learned of offerings, and wondered how many people sent them to Lupa, how many people remembered her after she trained them to be able to survive their way to camp. There was actually a smaller number than he imagined.
He fought hard, and while there where plenty of people who could beat him it was hard to beat him for long. He learned. Specifically the way you fight, the way a person does certain things more often than others. What side you favor, your style, way you move. He remembered it all easily. The parts in your armor that weren't done correctly, seams that were weak. An unusual way for him to use an ability of clothes and style granted by his mother. Still there was always one girl he would think he had figured out, and she would change again. A daughter of Bellona herself, she was a fighter. Well disciplined, and could change her fighting style on the drop of a hat. Fighting her was his best practice, and made him get better faster at the analysis. At times her favorite way of distracting him was simply to wear a completely off color pair off shoes. That Venus nature. She wouldn't play that card all the time though.
That was when he was training, there was still plenty of free time he used to play. He entertained himself just as much as anyone would expect of a Bacchus kid. Getting to know the Mercury kids a bit too well and passing them money to acquire things for him. There was nothing you couldn't get if you knew the right Mercury kids after all. Eventually the mysterious Bellona girl, Anthora or Kit as many people called her, had become praetor, and she would get on his case anytime she saw him drinking underage, or doing any thing else one might expect of a teenage son of Venus.
He was getting close to retiring, and while he loved New Rome with all the passion his mother could give him, he wanted out of the legion. He didn't like fighting, though he wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do. He continued to practice with Kit, dragging her out of her office if necessary. He was playful, and noisy as always, until she collapsed during a match. Having worked herself sick. Not even a second could pass before his arms scooped her up and he took her to the infirmary. Her armor and everything. He confessed to realizing she was sick, and having worked her harder just so she'd have to go to the infirmary. He knew her personality too well.
Only Robin, and for a time Kit, knew how and when exactly they started dating. You can easily picture a son of Mars and a daughter of Venus together, but most people thought Kit would either date the camp paperwork until she died, or find some dangerous fighter to be with. They weren't expected to last long, but their relationship worked better than anyone else knew. The fought, like all couples do, and would sometimes take it to the Arena, which was just a declaration of Kit being right in the end.
Robin made a big deal out of their wedding, inviting even Bellona, Mars, and Venus. He thought about inviting Vulcan, but realized how much that was not going to work. Other than that he invited their mortal families and the few friends who made up the brides maids and grooms men. She wanted it small, so he kept it small. Even if he still brought out the entire picturesque wedding. He decorated the place himself, and got some friends to cook for it. It wasn't an expensive wedding, but it was beautiful.
It wasn't long before Kit was pregnant, and still refusing to leave her Praetor duties. Robin was working in New Rome as a helper at a shop, and part time as a counselor until he could get his own place to practice. He wanted to be a counselor for families, since he had seen his fair share of damaged kids already and wanted to protect them in his own way. Everyone in New Rome seemed to be a bit emotionally constipated, and he felt like he could help with that just a little. He didn't even realize at what point he started thinking that way. Instead of the kid trying to get attention, or the teen who played just as hard as he had worked, he had evened out a bit. He would credit it all to the love of his life. The person who he honestly couldn't even imagine her not being at his side. The things he used to talk about with other people seemed so shallow, and selfish when compared to what he talked about with Kit. Even if it wasn't the biggest topics in the world it was different with her. She was the person who kept him from being a selfish needy little brat he hated being. She helped him think about what he could really do, and how he could really help. She made him want to be a better person.
There were complications with the child. The painted room, the crib, they were empty. There was going to be no Gabrielle Anemone Carroll. Both were devastated, and desperately clung to each other for support. Robin made sure Kit didn't bury herself in work, and Kit made sure Robin didn't send himself into depression. They planted a small tree to remember her by, going to the tree every year on what would have been her birthday. Eventually Robin bought a room at the building near the forest they planted the tree, a small Nymph had sprouted from it. Adorable and someone they started visiting more often. Setting up his office in that one room he focused more on being a counselor, he already had a good base from when he was doing it part time.
Trying to help people was not enough. In the last war people still ended up joining with the Titans, and Robin thought about reenlisting, though his skills were quite rusty. Not as rusty as he could have been, fights with his wife were a great source of practice. He talked with Kit about it, and agreed it wouldn't help much for him to go in. The commanders had changed, he wouldn't be used to fighting with the others, and would have been more of a liability than anything else on the front lines. He regretted that decision. He would have been fine dying in that war if he knew his wife would be sent to the underworld by it.
Robin lived in the empty house for what seemed like eternity, the walls they painted together. The furniture they bought together. The house they lived in together. Still he went to help his new influx of patients after the war, and began to see the pluses of burying yourself in your work as his wife once did. He was older now, and if that tragedy with their daughter had not occurred he would have been in much worse shape than he was now. He knew how Kit felt, she had voiced to him what she wanted him to do when sad. When hurting. He knew a bit of how to deal with it now, or so he thought. He never talked about it with anyone, hardly mentions his wife to this day. Holding back unless it's necessary, and smiling through it. He doesn't want to talk about it needlessly, because he doesn't want others to be sad for him.
Site Alias ;; Rhia
Reading;; All of PJO part of the first HoO book
Roleplaying Experience ;; 7-8 years?
Sample RP ;; See Rhiannon Warlow please
