Absit Omen RPG

He wasn't yet used to having so many helping hands, and smiled gratefully at the wizard at the supplies cabinet as he handed Robin what they would need for the allergy test - as well as the stuff for the other blood test. A cursed bite by a vampire always seemed more dramatic than any other bite; even a werewolf bite.

One day he would die like any other wix, within a single lifetime. Eternity did not appeal to him.

Hands laden, he crossed the ward back to the bed and nodded at Athan as she joined him. "I think that's a myth, isn't it?" Robin raised his eyebrows, unsure himself. "But if I had to guess, I'd say they were in bed together."

The tall wizard set down the little blood-drawing knife, and the two pairs of elixirs and bowls. Rooksby slept on - looked upon by mediwitches with more tenderness than some mothers offered their kids.

"Paints a picture, if he's allergic.." he glanced from patient to colleague, smile a touch playful. "They decide to try something new, doesn't go the way the vamp knows it's supposed to. They panic, maybe they take out a chunk of him without meaning to."

People, beings, they all could panic if they were doing something they weren't meant to be doing. Robin handed the knife to Athena and picked up one of the elixirs himself, to prep the test.

He observed, lips twitching into a smile, the fussy mannerisms of the Deputy Head Healer. Some people were tough to read; they hid themselves behind flashy gestures and depthless eyes. Misslethorpe seemed the opposite: his existence announcing itself for what it was.

"It was a Healers beyond borders deal," Robin answered as he thoughtlessly ran his finger around the rim of his teacup saucer. "Most of north America, some of south."

A good run, he thought. A life without commitment to anything besides one's own ethos, and the correspondence of friendships. "Most of my clinics were near beast sanctuaries, that kind of thing."

Robin drank some more tea - it was strong, like every cup he'd been served since arriving in this part of the world. His smile widened a little at that; it felt ludicrously English to be taking tea with another grown man. The clinking of porcelain and silverware.

"London might be my biggest challenge yet," he raised his eyebrows. "Cities are no less wild, are they?"

What was he doing here?

Robin Louvelle appeared on the summery terrace of the Spectre Estate with nothing but the clothes on his back and a duffle bag that had seen better days. He took a moment to orient himself - he was facing a forest on one side, that seemed to dip and rise on hilly terrain.

"Jesus," the wizard muttered as soon as he turned to see the house in which shadow he stood.

When Balfour had told him about growing up in a manor, nearly fourteen years ago, he described it as one of the lesser pureblood homes of Britain but it was nonetheless bigger in reality than it had been in his imagination. It was also warmer in appearance, of old stone and that immutable quality of places actually lived in.

He hesitated. Their correspondence had dropped three years past, through Robin's own doing. Balfour's letter[1] was more than cordial but they'd not laid eyes on one another in so long. Robin half-expected a stinging refusal. That wasn't like Bal, though.


Once he braced himself to knock and wait, the doors creaked open. Beyond them, the sound of dogs barking. And then a figure, about Balfour's height, but definitely not the Scotsman himself.

            “Robin!” a deep velvety voice exclaimed, and it came as something of a nasty shock not to be greeted by his old friend first.

"Johann," Robin repeated the name in a dazed, surprised moment as he reached to take the offered hand - grasping it by the wrist without thinking, his own particular way of shaking hands.

A pair of brilliant white Huskies and a black German Shepherd appeared to be part of the welcome party. He laughed, breaking the awkwardness of his shock and entering into the hall with a wondering look around him. It was old old.

"Uh, journey was fine," he let Johann charm away his bag, and kicked off his shoes - the dogs were all noses. "Took the train in from Paris and apparated here."

Robin felt entirely out of his class. How the hell did a place like this produce a guy like Balfour? Or the Balfour of fourteen years ago anyway.

He looked at Johann properly now, taking in the unusual face and dark curls. A marvel, said the letter. He did not disguise his interest. "You're not what I was expecting," his words came with a smile, friendly. "Nice to meet you. Bal not around?"

1.	9th August - As Far As the Eagles Fly

Robin glanced up a second, just long enough to nod a greeting at the Healer-in-Charge. He smiled a little to himself as she started quizzing Rooksby - Marrowbone had a smoother bedside manner, and something to emulate in the future.

When you spend most of your life patching up foolhardy beast handlers in the middle of nowhere, you forget little things like that. Oh, civilisation.

           "Bit by a dog, Mr. Rooksby?"
      "Sodding vampire!"

He barked out a laugh as he closed up the wound. Arteries patched up and flesh swimming over blood and pulse, not quite filling in the lump of it that had been so unceremoniously ripped out by their absent vampire friend. Robin briskly pulled his wand away just as the next spasm took hold.

"Rotten's right," he muttered with a rueful grimace at Athena, and uncorked a blood potion. "But I've cleaned it out, he shouldn't have more than few shakes left in him. It's the saliva, right?"

Like a mosquito, he thought distractedly, leaning over Rooksby and slipping a hand behind the man's head with surprising gentleness. "Just a couple of gulps fella..." Robin intoned while he administered the potion. "Right, dreamland for you in a sec. Think happy, unfanged thoughts."

He straightened and handed the empty bottle over to Mediwitch. "You want to play Sandman?" Robin looked to Athena, eyebrows raised. "I'll get the stuff for the allergy test."

The best thing about working in hospitals instead of clinics was that they always had everything you needed. In a pinch, though, he would have bet a few galleons on Brooksby being definitely allergic.

Emergency Ward, 0100 hours.


He was in the middle of the late shift, signing off on a prescription for painkiller potions when his badge went off.

"Trouble calls..." Robin winked at the mediwitch across the counter as he handed her over the slip. She accepted this with a wry smile, and off he went down the passage straight for the emergency ward. The night had otherwise been slow. He was in the right mind space to work, though he looked forward to crashing at the end of it.

           "Off! O-off me!" a wizard shrieked.

Most of the beds in the ward were empty and it was easy peasy to spot the trouble; a pair of mediwizards struggling to secure a frantic patient into his bed. He was with them in a lick, wand drawn - but they had already used charms to bind the man's arms and legs down.

"Jesus that's a helluva bite," Robin muttered as he lit the tip of his wand and drew the light just over the shoulder area. "Vampire."

Patient was a young guy, stocky build in little more than his boxer shorts and a white t-shirt.  The blood was stark, the vamp had done more than suck - it had taken a chunk out of him. Irregular. Did it panic? Was this malicious?

Above the messy wound, the man's face was rabid - he was convulsing intermittently, eyes rolled back in his head, lips blue, screaming at them to get off.

"Blood potions, I'm going to close this up," Robin spoke up without looking away, the gears turning in his head. "I think this guy might be allergic."

He had changed out of his Healer robes after the working day shift, and slipped up to tearoom for a moment to himself.

Robin wasn't entirely at home yet. It was weird, starting out somewhere new this late in life - and starting out with an eye to settle down, no less. His nomadic lifestyle made it easy to adjust to new environments but it was hardly a week since he arrived from Paris. There was still the nervous focus on trying to understand different accents, the awkwardness of smiles exchanged with colleagues still strangers.

He didn't like to return to Balfour's right after work. Robin was apartment hunting in London and it was London he needed the most getting used to; better to linger here, and then to walk Diagon or visit shops.

            "Louvelle."

The wizard glanced up from his tea and book, where he'd been casually making notes for a case study.

"Misslethorpe!" he repeated the name with a laugh of recognition. "I recall. Join me?" Robin nodded at the spare chair across, drawing his notebook back in and closing it. "Kind of you to remember me, Deputy Healer."

The hospital was ruled over by a terrifying creature married to one of Johann's relatives; and at her side, this guy. Robin wasn't sure of their dynamic. He assumed Misslethorpe was the good cop in a good-cop-bad-cop situation. But even good cops weren't all that good.

"I'm getting by alright," he blew on his tea before taking a quick sip, eyes on the other man. "Just trying to get comfortable." Robin smiled loosely as he stuck his quill behind his ear. "Been a while since I worked at a hospital this big."

[Name of Character:] Robin Louvelle
[Age:] 39 years old
[Face Claim:] Pace, Lee
[Example:] <------

Character Name: Robin Louvelle
URL Link to Biography: https://absitomen.com/index.php?topic=21350.msg197198#msg197198

Type of Creature: Werewolf

How did they become a creature? Robin was bitten by an unregistered child werewolf whilst he was working as a Healer on Peru. He and a fellow Healer had been camping together when they were attacked.

Are they registered with the Ministry of Magic?: Yes

If yes, what does registry entail? Robin was registered as a werewolf in both the US and Canada. When he arrived in the UK to work as a Healer, he registered at St.Mungo's as a werewolf. He provided the details of his turning, accompanying paperwork, as well as a temporary address at the Spectre estate. When Robin finds an apartment of his own he will return to update his address.

Are they considered a 'Dark' Creature?: No

If yes, are they currently under pursuit by the Ministry of Magic?: No

What crimes have they committed?  Were they convicted? N/A

Physical Description:
Robin's countenance is sun-kissed and lined with perhaps more years than he has lived. He has an open, friendly kind of handsomeness that did him no romantic favours when he was younger but suits him better now. Emotions leap to his face quickly and effectively. When he is warm, so are his eyes and smile. When he is livid, he can appear shockingly cold.

At 6'6'' Robin has been asked if he has giant ancestry - perhaps many many generations ago. He does not seem tall from a distance - simply lanky, in spite of his broad shoulders and strong build.

Robin is perpetually dressed in casual clothes when he is not in Healer robes. Jeans, slacks, weathered sweatshirts and jackets. Simple. Everything he wears is usually old but of good quality, and always sent to a magical tailor for repairs. Robin cleans up well in formalwear, on those rare occasions that absolutely require it.

He carries himself in a quiet, good-natured way. Confident without being flashy. His mannerisms are still boyish and expressive. He is tactile, always hugging and resting his hands on people if he knows them well.

Robin sports the scar of a werewolf bite on his shoulder - the marred, darkened flesh can be seen creeping out from the collar of his shirts. He also has a tattoo of a moon on the inside of his right wrist; it changes with the phases of the moon.

Personality Description:
Robin has always been the kind of person to simply say what he was thinking.

Nowadays, from experience, he knows when to censure his thoughts - of course they slip through all the time, a force of habit. He is far from mean spirited but he has strong opinions and strong ways of expressing them. Some may think he is more impassioned than he actually is. The illusion is often broken when he laughs things off.

On occasion, when he cannot laugh a thing off, Robin becomes verbally confrontational. He does not like to get into duels but has become a better duellist over time, because some people insist on duelling when you confront them. Sometimes he doesn't have a choice.

He puts on a forward, friendly demeanour. A little rough around the edges maybe, though he cannot hide his gentle upbringing. Underneath the forwardness are soft, fussy mannerisms. The flourish of his handwriting and the scent of his perfume, like fresh roses. The way he lounges and reads and dances.

Robin loves conversing. Heated conversations, lazy quiet ones. He has been asked to shut up many times, by groups or people exhausted by his tendency to start little debates. If you hand him enough hard cider or mead, his tongue will grow a mind of its own.

History:
Robin Louvelle was born to the wizard Emanuel Louvelle and the witch Natasha Dupont in the quiet muggle town of Victoria, in B.C. Canada.

His father was a Parisian, and worked as head editor at a French wizarding magazine that converged the French speaking populations of his home country with that of his newly adopted on. His mother was French-British; she taught wizarding Canadian children how to speak proper French instead of the Quebec French that was more popular here.

The couple had been pen pals for years and married in Victoria only a year before having Robin. They enjoyed an oft-happy but turbulent marriage until a highly tempestuous divorce the year Robin turned five. Peaceful living did not suit Emanuel, who returned to Paris.

CHILDHOOD
Robin's childhood was spent between Victoria and Paris. The first half of his year with Natasha, where he socialised with local wizard children and played games - and spent many rainy days in their quiet house among trees.

The second half of the year with Emanuel in a post-modern apartment overlooking the Seine river, a smartly-dressed boy to show off at parties full of editors, artists, writers, eccentrics. Robin didn't speak to many other kids when he was in Paris.

BEAUXBATONS (1984 -1991)
After many acrimonious discussions, it was decided that Robin would attend Beauxbatons, like his father had, in addition to Christmas in Paris. All other holidays were for his mother - and so he saw more of her in spite of being abroad most of the time.

School was bumpy at first. Robin was culturally more Canadian and his thoughtless way of speaking his mind did not always endear him to his classmates. Eventually, by third year, he had found good friends and grown comfortable. He spoke French like the French but preferred to speak English among a sprinkling of students who'd grown up in North America or Britain.

Academically, Robin worked hard to excel at his studies. He did not want to give anyone more reasons to dislike him, and was genuinely interested in many subjects. A teacher encouraged him to look into Healing as a career, believing Robin to have an inherently gentle temperament and a willingness to offer help where needed.

HEALER TRAINING (1992 - 1996)
After Robin graduated, he continued to stay with his father for a few months before applying to train as a Healer at a wizarding hospital in Alberta, close to one of the dragon sanctuaries where Beast Handlers trained.

Although he trained for two years as a Healer for poisonings, the hospital's high influx of creature injuries caused him to switch specialties. Robin was dead interested in this kind of healing: he found that he had a cool head around screaming patients and that creature injuries demanded from him the mastery of many skills.

After completing his training, Robin joined a group of travelling Healers who worked at various wizarding clinics in North America. These clinics specialised in creature injuries, and were often located near beast sanctuaries and wildnerness.

HEALING IN NORTH AMERICA (1997 - 2007)
The pay was far from great but Robin enjoyed a lot of flexibility in his work as a Healer over the next few years. He travelled a lot - from east to west of the US and Canada, with several detours on the way. Sometimes he stayed at a clinic for months, sometimes a whole year.

When asked he would tell people that he was trying to get in as much experience as he could with the injuries of different types of creatures. In reality, Robin had simply become comfortable in his nomadic ways.

He didn't have many lasting relationships or friendships, though he corresponded consistently with those few with whom he kept touch. Among them was Balfour Spectre; the pair dated casually for the better part of a year before parting ways.

Towards the end of this ten year run, Robin decided to look at positions in clinics abroad.

SOUTH AMERICA (2008 - 2009)
First to settlements in Brazil, and then onwards to towns in Venezuela and Peru. Robin followed no rhyme or reason - someone would simply say "how about Aguas Calientes for a few weeks?" and off Robin would go without a second thought.

He anticipated staying in this part of the world for years but this intention was cut short in a werewolf attack. Robin had been camping in the mountainous regions of Peru for two weeks with a fellow healer, a break from their respective jobs, when a werewolf ravaged their camping grounds one night. It had been a child werewolf, newly turned in a town at the foot of the mountain.

Both wizards survived the attack thanks to arrival of a local patrol. Robin probably survived only because his friend had been there to tend to his wounds. He returned to Canada as a different, quieter person at first.

CANADA (2010 - 2012)
The quiet did not last. Robin had never paid much attention to werewolf rights but now that he had become one himself, the injustices of groups like WALI rained down with a jolt.

He was able to retain his job; the clinics could never afford to be fussy about their Healers but Robin noticed that he was treated differently. The frankness that he enjoyed had been tempered by the sight of his ugly scar. Looks of sympathy, disgust. Even the people rallying to his defence, eyes so full of pity and righteousness, repulsed him.

Between clinics, he visited his parents. His father was displeased by the turn of events and refused to let Robin stay with him - instead paying for his son to stay at a hotel during the visit. Robin's mother was more welcoming but she also worried more than anyone else. She didn't think it was safe for him to stay.

After a couple of years of trying to find a place in society, Robin gave up. He had joined a community of werewolves in vocally promoting werewolf rights but even then, he found it painful to live life so differently in familiar places.

CURRENT (2012)
It was towards the end of July 2012 that he received word of his application to St.Mungo's in London. Robin had secured a position as a Healer of Creature Injuries - his first permanent position in an actual hospital since his training years.

He arrived in early August with nothing more than the clothes on his back, and a single duffel bag. At present he is staying in a bothy on Balfour's estate whilst apartment-hunting.


Describe your job duties and how you go about them:
Robin is a Healer at St.Mungo's Hospital. He works on Creature Injuries.

His job entails starting out each shift by checking in on long-stay patients and adjusting their treatments according to overnight changes in their recovery. For the rest of his shift, Robin is often on-call. He is very competent and level headed at his job. This worries some patients as his manner can come across as casual rather than competent.

Robin ends each shift by observing his long-stay patients one last time before checking out.

Elaborate on your expertise in your field:
Robin has trained as a Healer of Creature Injuries for two years in Alberta. Since then, he has been working more-or-less consistently in various clinics of North and South America for almost fifteen years.

Writing Sample:

Sum up your character in one paragraph:
Robin Louvelle is a 39 year old Healer of Creature Injuries. He is also a werewolf. Although originally Canadian, he was educated at Beauxbatons and spent much of his healing career in North America. Robin is currently working at St.Mungo's and is interested in joining a Werewolf rights movement. He's a friendly wizard but he isn't generally afraid to say what he thinks.