Robert East - Character Design

Danielle Laing 1800706

Name: Robert East

Age: 44

Species: Low-level Gifted Human Male

Occupation: Freelance Field Researcher (self employed)

Bio:

 Robert East was a younger and far less permanently anxious looking man when the Re-Awakening took place. A man without direction, he had been halfheartedly pursuing a number of scientific fields at varying degrees of uselessness in an attempt to find his passion; Cell Biology; Zoology; Anthropology, the list goes on. Though he may have been a jack of all trades, there was no question about him being a master of absolutely none. Magic was just another one of the things on the list of skills he was passably adequate when the power manifested in him.

However, with the breakdown of modern society he had finally found his drive; making sense of the absurdities that had been unleashed on the world. After all, if you can touch and measure, regardless of how aggressive or violent it is, you can perform research on it. Robert gathered what he could carry, armed with a small portable lab and a seemingly endless array of journals. The only thing that outweighed Robert's crippling fear of these ghosts and ghouls was his curiosity and blind luck, so he set off on the absolute suicide mission that was documenting this new and terrifying supernatural world - dissecting lore from fact and delivering information to the masses, earning him a reputation as one of the most idiotic, lucky sons of bitches on the entire Silk Road.

Example Scene

The one good thing about the Internet ceasing to exist was how well everyone kept their libraries nowadays, Robert thought. After all, the last thing the world needed after crumbling as they knew it was plunging even harder into the dark ages - no, it was definitely for the best that everyone collectively remembered how to read. Then again…

“No bones? How the Hell is that supposed to work?” he mutter furiously to himself so as not to rudely shatter the silence.

This old hand-bound book on Bulgarian lore was so spectacularly helpful that he may as well forget to read, honestly. The offending tome is placed delicately back down on the frustratingly wobbly oak table that's been bothering him since he sat down - because no matter how mad he was at a book, he would not dare risk damaging the already-crumbling binding. After all, somebody might like to read this after him some day and laugh and laugh at the prospect of vampires being boneless - eel-like, it had said. What a waste of time it had been tracking this one down, and now the only thing for it was to pout. So Robert folds his arms and pouts in angry silence, apparently attempting to glare a hole right through the cover of the blasted useless book. Then he stops, because he's worried the magic might kick in and then he really would stare a hole right through it. And then there was this whole debacle with the magic-

The one in attendance at the library - so, the librarian, - watches this all in a great deal of amusement from the front desk, for it was difficult not to find great amusement in a forty-something year old man pursing his lips and frowning with silent fury at an inanimate object written by a long forgotten pilgrim whose name disappeared out of history over a hundred years before the Re-Awakening ever even happened.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” The librarian asks across the room, innocently.

“Yes I found it. Thank you.” Robert answers back weakly.

--

Robert borrowed the book anyway, once he'd gotten sufficiently embarrassed at his overreaction and calmed down again. Some of the legends still proved helpful, but he had to make a conscious effort not to think about the vampire thing - God, how would they even bite anyone without bones? They would have no fangs - no, no, he wouldn't dwell on it.

No, now Robert had been called up to a little settlement in the Carpathian Mountains to train some locals on the identification of supernatural beings and how to deal with them. He really did hate calling them ‘supernatural’, but he'd yet to come up with a new term that didn't sound utterly ridiculous. he would work on it.

He'd seen worse classes, anyway. After his arrival, a short break to sleep, a bit more - calm - light reading, he'd rounded up the people who would then teach the rest of the population. It was an inoffensive little band of mildly gifted humans and people who had once been teachers or scholars, plus the small band of hunters that went along with any self-sufficient burg.

Tracking; that was another thing Robert had become pleasantly okay at in his travels. It didn't take long to pin down a fairly harmless - I.E. not immediately lethal - creature that was common as dirt in the region. A Spiriduş, as it was known to his students. They looked a bit like small people, though if the size didn't give them away, the odd face and sharp teeth would. None too pleased and justifiably peeved at being caught up in a net and manhandled for an audience, the little biter struggled and protested furiously as Robert gave his lesson.

“-These Spiriduş can be found throughout the mountains and valleys of the region, and while they may not be an immediate danger, it is key to recognise them by sight and avoid them where possible - You wouldn't believe the sorts of nasty tricks they're capable-”

The gathering watches on idly, and nobody says anything when the little spirit finally chews a hole through the net and slips out. It rolls up its little sleeves and stomps up to Robert's leg, no higher than the knee.

It waits until Robert looks down at the empty net, where he stares blankly for a moment, processing the issue. Then he looks down a little further, spots the irate spirit, and lets out a girly shriek.