HAWKIN, Sebastian Thomas

[sebastianthesecond]

...Sebastian Thomas Hawkin*
*But it knows any friend it has met once before*

[/size]

...basics*

name Sebastian Thomas Hawkin
nickname No. Just no.
age Twenty-Seven
gender I think you'll find he's an outie perfectly male.
grade N/A
hometown Edinburgh, Scotland
sexuality He's asexual, but not decidedly so. He just doesn't like anyone else enough.
personification JubJub Bird
status Dormant
face claim Benificial Cucumberpatch Benevolent Crumblebuns Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch lol

...appearance*

hair color You could stretch to call it brunette, but quite frankly it's brown. Occasionally you can see hints of red, which he despises.
eye color A cold, capturing blueish grey
build Average, and has been for much of his life.
height Very dull at exactly six foot.
clothing style Whatever could you expect a teacher to wear? A smart shirt and tie whenever he is at work. Nothing too bright or too distracting, naturally. Nothing casual; his students could where what they liked, but he didn't want to associate with them.
When he's not working, he takes a similar approach, however he might let himself be a little more casual. For example, dropping the tie.
distinctive traits "Although not a specific trait, Sebastian has a very distinctive look about him; it’s somewhere between pretentious and just plain apathetic, and almost never leaves his face."

...personal*

personality
Sebastian has the tendency to be honest. Sounds wonderful, doesn't it?

It really isn't. There's nothing quite so bad on earth than someone who'll say something insulting simply because it's the truth. He never insults someone just for the hell of it; he's not at all cruel, just apathetic. Sebastian, you see, doesn’t just speak rudely for the sake of doing so; he speaks rudely because he believes in honesty as not only a policy but a necessary, unquestionable way of life. And he simply does not realise that not everyone can handle that quite as well as he can. Not everyone cares so little about what others think of them. When someone decides to give back to him as good as he gave, there's never any more than a blink, or perhaps a small, cruel sort of chuckle accompanied by a cold, blank stare.

It's all about the fact that he simply doesn't care. He takes a completely uninterested view on the rest of humanity, except occasional bouts of hatred and annoyance when a particularly stupid example happens to cross his path. His students, especially, he tends to despise as they epitomise human stupidity, each and every one of them. He's yet to meet a student of his who really matched his expectations, though a very few have come close.

And yet, and yet...despite all of this, people seem to want to approach him. Perhaps it is something in the fact that you can always count on him to give you an honest opinion, something rare and hard to find in modern times, when white lies are so common. But there is also the strange attitude that people have that compels them to try and impress him. To gain his support, his praise, his trust, even. It's an urge he’s well aware of, and uses to his advantage often. At one point in time almost every “friend” he meets will attempt to do at least one thing, however small, to gain his acceptance, adoration, or accolade.

But Sebastian can't stand those people any more than he can stand anyone else. Perhaps, if given the chance, the sheer loneliness paired with how much he detests all things emotional could turn to depression. Depression shies away from people like Sebastian, who couldn't even feel upset enough about it all to stop carrying on with his life as it is. And by cutting off any feelings of pity or sympathy, he's got himself far in life. After all, nobody ever got anywhere without stepping on a few heads first.
past
"Born and raised in Edinburgh, Scotland, Sebastian’s life up until age four was exceptionally ordinary. He was born on an early February morning to two beaming, ecstatic parents with absolutely no complications and a trip home within the week. As aforementioned, he was ordinary. Sebastian walked when the doctors estimated he’d walk, talked at the average age, ate solid food at precisely when he was supposed to. He was far too young to notice the arguments between his parents, or the way his father came home with a slight jerk to his walk and significantly less money than was written on his paycheck every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday like clockwork. He was too young to notice that when his mother came into his room one night with tears in her eyes and a large bag in her hand and a few whispered words, that she was leaving for real and for good. It wasn’t until he turned five and a half, a whole year after she left the house, that he really came to terms with the fact that his mother was gone for good. She didn’t even leave a note.

Needless to say, that was where it all began. The shutting down, the utter hatred of people as a whole; he was only five, yes, but he felt it. Tiny at first, it only showed in flashes of anger and the occasional display of maliciousness. Being so young, the worst he did up until age seven was cut off a lock of Maggie D’Angilo’s hair because she decided to speak to him while he was coloring.

Sebastian’s mother left him. He hadn’t a clue why at the time, and even as he grew older and came to understand more and more, he couldn’t forgive her for not taking him with. By sixteen years of age, Sebastian was nothing short of hardened. His daily routine was set in stone: wake up, go to school, come home for an hour, work until eight at night, come home again, sit up and wait for his father to stumble in, somewhere between nine and one, depending on the day, but always reeking of gin and beer. There wasn’t much flexibility—he couldn’t afford it. Not even for school. And although Sebastian’s father never hit him, wasn’t even that mean of a drunk, he grew to loathe him. Sebastian loathed his father like he’d never loathed anything before, even his mother (he thought her extremely weak, and a pathetic excuse for a parent, but nothing more. She wasn’t worth the effort), but it wasn’t for the fact that he drank so much as the fact that he’d driven everyone else away. He hated the drinking, too, there was no doubt about that, but he hated the consequences of his actions more. Grant was, in his mind, the lowest of the low. Relying on alcohol to get him through a life that, all things considered, hadn’t been half bad before he went and fucked it all up was by far the worst possible thing Sebastian could imagine a man doing.

Because he had little else to do with himself (and this is not merely a melodramatic way of putting things—the guy was an ass, even at that age. He didn’t have many friends. Not ones he wanted to actually spend time with, anyway), Sebastian turned to reading. Or, more specifically, eating up history books. The fascination with facts—concrete, solid, rock-hard details—began when he was about ten and first learned that Isaac Newton did not, in fact, discover gravity via apple, but testing various formulas—again, cold, hard, and unrelenting. The rest was, as they say, well…history. Perhaps they helped to further push him away from the world of emotions and into the realm of unyielding, apathetic, cruel details. Then again, perhaps they were just a comfort. Something to pass the time. Either way, he still ended up an ass."
present
"Sebastian double majored in History and Education at the University of Edinburg, passing most of his classes with flying colors and a carefully controlled bored expression. Needless to say, however, he wanted out the minute he graduated. Out of his father’s house, out of Edinburgh, out of Scotland, out of his whole goddamn life. So he did the first thing that came to mind: he moved to America. It was, as he’d read and told himself thousands of times over, full of fat, lazy people equally full of idiotic ideas, but it was something different. Sebastian moved to New York the day he turned twenty-three, and hasn’t looked back since. Not even to call his father. Why the hell would he want to?

New York, to Sebastian, is hell. Then again, so is everywhere. He’s just as insufferable as he was growing up, perhaps even more so now that there’s no moderately higher authority to attempt to reign him in. During the past few years living in New York he’s met countless people and only bothered to speak consistently to a few, although never once has he actually called them his friends. They’re people he needs at the moment, not like toys but…books. He flips them open every once in a while for a quick glance, almost to see if his favorite quite is still there, and then he puts them back on the shelf again because he remembers seconds after reading said quote just how awful the rest of the story was, and how utterly pathetic the main character acted.

Really, it’s a wonder he got the job at Baum, as he didn’t even tone himself down for the interview (in case it wasn’t obvious enough already, Sebastian isn’t one for putting on masks). It’s his second year teaching now, and he somewhat suspects the reason they re-signed his contract was a mixture between the fact that his History students scored higher on almost every test than the average of the rest of the teachers’ classes combined and the fact that deep down, they want to see just how far he’ll actually go. Sebastian doesn’t mind, of course. He fucking hates his job, but he doesn’t mind one bit."
family
Abigail Hawkin, 64, estranged. A coward who ran away from her problems.
Grant Hawkin, 68, a drunken waste of space.
likes
Real Bloody History. Bloody being both a description and an expletive.
He enjoys to shock people, not with theatrics or stunts, but with his plain speaking. He enjoys the look of surprise on people's faces when they realise he's actually insulting him.
Lemon sherbets and dark chocolate, though flavours should never mix, and milk in chocolate is an abomination.
Those who understand that criticism should be used to improve, and not merely taken as an insult.
Spearmint. It's refreshing and sharp, much like himself.
dislikes
Horrid people, so, all of humanity.
Wallpaper, as it is entirely pointless, a lazy solution, and look awful
The most stupid of his students.
Any kind of fruity sweet
Relationships. While on the outside he takes the air of complete and utter disdain for them, but really he is merely scared of someone knowing him quite that well.
other notes N/A

...literature*

book title The Jabberwocky a little but mostly The Hunting of the Snark
backstory Well, basically, these dudes are out hunting a Snark, and one butcher (who hates Beavers) and one Beaver (who hates the butcher) end up going the same way, right? And they're both there about to get all up in each other's face when they hear this thing. And that thing is the badass JubJub Bird. And they go on about saying it three times and all that and then figure out they should be friends really and go on to be in a homosexual, inter-speciesial civil partnership life-long friendship, all 'cause of this bird just making a noise, yeah?

...roleplayer*

name Rudward Cullfus
age 111
gender I'm impossibly fast
rp experience And strong
how you found ouac My skin is pale white
rp sample and ice cold.
Any words in bold are direct quotes from the original app written by Scout. I have permission to use it, however if necessary I can rewrite in my own words.

[DANI]

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