Post by Deleted on Dec 31, 2013 2:26:32 GMT -5
rory benedict wood
CANON OR ORIGINAL: Canon
AGE: Seveteen
FACE CLAIM: Robert Sheehan
YEAR: Seventh
HOUSE: Gryffindor
OCCUPATION: N/a
BLOOD TYPE: Halfblood
WAND TYPE: 12 inches, Veela hair, Walnut
PETS: N/a
ABILITIES:
"Nothing, mate. I've got nothing. I'm pretty skilled on a quidditch pitch, but that's sort of the family trade, innit?"
freestyle
'Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby
Yeah, I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby
Yeah, I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby
"Hallo there. I'm Rory Wood." Rory stuck out his hand. Which was, of course, attatched to his gangly arm. Gods, did he look like a giraffe. He cracked a large smile and nodded, pulling his hand back and fixing his hat, "Yeah, yeah. I'm his son. Puddlemere United's finest Keeper, eh? Nothing like him, though. I swear. I reckon he's a bit different than you remember, more of a stick up his..."
Rory shook his head, wiping that stupid signature smile off his face and standing a bit taller. He had to keep in mind, this was an adult he was speaking with. Not his mates, not his siblings. There was no need and no room for his "class clown, comedian" act here. He cleared his throat a little, "What was that? Yes, yes. Seventeen years old, almost eighteen though. I think I'm one of the oldest in my year. Or, at least in my house. It's Gryffindor, by the way."
"Yeah, Dad was especially proud of that. 'My boy, sorted into Gryffindor. Just like 'is dad, he is. What'd I tell you, Alicia.' Mum couldn't care less. She just wants me to do well." Rory had to admit, he did a killer impression of his dad. The infamous Oliver Wood. He'd say he hated being his son - solely because everyone always asked, "Rory Wood? You aren't Oliver's boy, are ye?" and he'd always reply, "Yup." - but, it wasn't all that bad. Growing Up Wood sounded cheesy and horrible, but he'd be a liar if he said he didn't enjoy it. In fact, nosy fans of his Dad's were the only downside, "You can have a seat if you want, yeah. What's this for? Really, he's being honored. That seems a bit extreme."
"Of course I'm proud of him, we all are. Mum, my sisters and my little brother, too." Oh, Rory's sisters. Listen, being smushed in the middle of the two of them on Christmas cards - and, in life - was not his favorite thing. But, they all got along just well enough. He seemed to always be the instigator, in sibling disputes. Or the enabler. Either way, he was eternally in the middle of most things. He was always the one in trouble, in any case. Thank the Gods for Charles, that baby face got Rory out of too many messes. And there were plenty of messes. He was probably closest to Charles, despite the age difference. The little spitball was his only brother, of course he was close to him.
But, as a unit, the family was great. They traveled quite a bit, the five of them. Mostly staying with family friends; the Weasley's or the Potter's or the What-have-you's. That's how he met his best mates - or, his singular best mate, Rose Weasley, "Even my best mate, her names' Rose, she came over for our Wood Family Dinner. It was an absolute mess. My older sister, Kailyn, she was goin' on and on about this..."
"Sorry, yeah. About me, um. Well, I'm Rory. I already said that, didn't I?" He chuckled a little, out of nervousness and out of habit. Gods, he couldn't take anything seriously, could he? Rory Wood, notorious for being a little obnoxious and somewhat of a dirtbag. Why not say that? Don't say that. Oh, no. Rory, do not say you're a dirtbag, "And I'm a bit of a dirtbag. The family black sheep, I guess. I'm just...I'm a bit more crude than all of them, perhaps more honest. Who am I kidding, I'm definitely more honest. I just told a reporter I'm a dirtbag. Dad and Mum'll love that."
He was still a little confused as to why the reporter wanted to know anything about him. The article, the honor, everything was for his Dad. Why did Rory matter? Not the first time he'd asked that question. "Childhood was great. Lots of good people around. Lots of interesting places. How much detail do you want me to go into? I spent quite a bit of time at the Potter house, actually. Dad was good friends with Harry. Basically, my life has been a parade of semi-famous people and their children. Famous, heh. Is that the word?"
His hand was tangled in the curly mess he called hair. Everyone always told him he needed to brush it out, but that required effort and Rory admitted to being impossibly lazy. He looked at the ticking clock across the room, behind the reporters head. It was nearly three, which meant an owl should be coming from Rose soon. He briefly considered branching out, but shook that thought away. It's not that Rory Wood didn't have plenty of friends, he did. It's just, Rose knew the most about him. And, there was no romantic undertones to their relationship, like everyone seemed to think. He never even considered her that way, not with all the things he'd wittnessed. That didn't stop Rory from hating who Rose was dating. He probably shouldn't have had a vendetta against Scorpius Malfoy, he didn't really know anything about the chap. But, Rory had heard too many stories about his Dad to let it rest.
"I'm not really sure what you want to know." He paused, "Do I play quidditch? Of course, we all do. Have our entire lives. It's sort of the family trade, innit? Giant games in the backyard against the kids in the neighborhood. Ehm, James and Albus, Lily and Rose. Hugo and Charlie would bow out, sometimes. But, for the most part, it was all of us. I play at school, yeah. I'm a beater. Dad liked that. I'm still surprised I even made the team, I'm all limbs and not a lot of brawn. But, as it turns out, I've got a killer swing."
"I'm fairly good in school. Again, I'm a little obnoxious - the whole dirtbag thing. I've probably got a record for detentions, it should be documented. But, generally, I'm very intelligent. If that doesn't sound too cocky. Ehm, my favorite class is probably Alchemy or Arithmancy. I'd like to do something with that, when I'm out, maybe. Guess I should start thinking about that soo, eh? I'd just like to shake things up, it's what I do. I don't really want to play quidditch professionally. Maybe I'll invent something, or discover something? There's always something new to discover, yeah? That's the beauty of the world."
He clapped his hands together, there was nothing more he had to say. He'd talked about his Mum, right? Glorius Mum, the doll. She was all the wonderful things you could think of. Just, eternally lovely. She cried, when Rory had left for Hogwarts. He didn't remember her doing that when his older sister left, and she definitely didn't when the younger two came. He liked to imagine he was her favorite, despite the amount of times she'd sent him to his room. She was like an angel. Always sent him this candy-filled, home-baked-goods care package type things, his first week of school.
He talked about his Dad, of course. His stern but enjoyable, light-hearted but committed Dad. How he was the firm hand in the household. How, until Rory was fourteen, his room was decked out in Puddlemere United gear. Posters of his Dad's teammates lining his walls. Bit odd, he'd admit, that Rory let them stay up that long. He knew he definitely mentioned how proud he was, didn't he. How proud he was of his Dad, how proud he was to be his son. Maybe he should mention it again? Rory shrugged, "I just....I really am proud of me Dad. He's done a lot for this family, and to think he's done the same for his team? To know that. Gods, he's...he deserves the honor, I think. I might make jokes about it, but he's my role model. You know? Every boy's Dad is his hero, right?" He nodded his head, slowly, "Mine is."
He talked about his sisters, his little brother. His friends, school. He had nothing left to say, he hated talking about himself, honestly. There was nothing interesting about Rory Benedict Wood - not really. He was sarcastic and silly and just a ball of energy at the most inappropriate times. Nothing special, somewhat of a cliche, "That's about it, though. I'm glad you've come. When can we expect the issue?"
That didn't sound as polite or enthusiastic as he meant it. Gods, he was right. Rory Wood was a bit of a dirtbag.
'Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby
Yeah, I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby
Yeah, I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
HEY MY NAME IS HARLEY, AND I ALSO PLAY SLOAN MCKELLAN. I FOUND THE SITE THROUGH THE GOOGLE THING.
TEMPLATE BY ELIZA @ SHADOWPLAY & RCR
[/div][/div][/div]