NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC

[waitingforsuperman]

 

GENERAL

NAME: Max Ainalani Pendergast.
NICKNAMES: [EVP RECORDER SCREECH]
AGE/DOB: 17, February 23rd.
BLOOD STATUS: Halfblood.
GENDER/PRONOUNS: Male, he/him pronouns.
SEXUALITY: There are too many unexplained things in the world to worry about what people have, don't have, or get freaky about. Did you ever consider that maybe they’re not even real people?

[X-FILES THEME]

HOMETOWN: Kailua, Hawaii/Gruene, Texas. He takes a portkey back and forth on the not-at-school weekends and holidays to visit both parents. Unless his parents have decided to hang out together; then they all hang out in one place and play jenga.

CONCEPT: Intrepid adventurer hunts for cryptids, doesn’t realize he is one.

PHYSICAL

HEIGHT: 6'2! TALL BOI. MUSCLE BOI.

PB: Alex Aiono.

PERSONALITY

LIKES: THE UNEXPLAINABLE! CRYPTIDS UNRECORDED FAUNA AND FLORA! EMPIRICAL EVIDENCE! EMPIRICAL RESULTS! HIS CAMERAS! GHOSTS! HIS EVP RECORDER! THE LAKE MONSTER, PROBABLY--SHE JUST NEEDS SOMEONE TO TREAT HER WITH KINDNESS AND UNDERSTANDING! SOLOMON, HIS BROEST OF BROS! THOSE GEL-CENTERED CANDIES WITH WRAPPERS THAT LOOK LIKE STRAWBERRIES, WHY DOES NO ONE ELSE LIKE THEM, THEY'RE SO GOOD! SURVIVAL TRAINING! SURFING (A METHOD FOR WOOING THE LAKE MONSTER?)! TOLKIEN! MOVIES! DID HE ALREADY SAY SOLOMON--YES HE DID! COMICS! COMICS!! COMICS!!! AND DRAWING COMICS!!!!

DISLIKES: BIRDS! GOOSEBERRY'S LACK OF GLUTEN AND LACTOSE-FREE OPTIONS! BREAD! WHEN THE WEATHER IS SO BAD THAT HE CAN'T GO OUTSIDE BUT WATCH HIM DO IT ANYWAY! PEOPLE WHO TAKE THEMSELVES SO SERIOUSLY THAT IT'S LIKE SEVERELY DEPRESSING, LIKE BRO COME ON, WE ARE A MEDIAN AGE OF SIXTEEN HERE, CHILLAX! BREAKING A STRING ON HIS UKELELE BUT SOMETIMES HE JUST GETS SO ENTHUSIASTIC. RACISTS! XENOPHOBES! THEOPHOBES! COLONIALISM! JUST LET PEOPLE LIVE! 

PERSONALITY:

(◡ ‿ ◡ ✿) Idealistic. He's probably the literal personification of the CO-EXIST bumper sticker that you see plastered on every car in Yuppietown USA. We are all (probably) human beings, stuck together on this muddy piece of rock hurtling through space towards a slowly imploding star as we spin on an axis moved by forces we don't fully understand and maybe will never entirely understand, and some people want to feel some kind of way about a girl kissing another girl like it has aaaanything to do with them. He's very pro "do whatever you want, whenever you want, however you want, as long as it isn't harming anyone else." You wanna go to class in your underpants? Max supports that and will walk you there, my friend. You wanna smooch that cute boy in your club? You do that, after asking him if it's okay. You wanna burn a crop circle into the grass to summon the aliens to pick you up and take you away at last? Coolest story my dude, Max has your back.

(◡ ‿ ◡ ✿) Tenacious. Once he's in, he's in it to win it--it doesn't matter what it is, who he's against, or what the stakes are. If he's dedicated himself to something, he will see it through to the other side, no matter what. Paired with his reckless and impulsive streak, this sometimes backfires in a truly impressive way. But you have to admit: his audacity makes it almost charming.

(◡ ‿ ◡ ✿) Impulsive. He can be a snap-judgment guy and prone to making hasty decisions if it seems like the situation would be good for a laugh.

But he has a tendency to say odd things sometimes, as if they're not alarming.

 

"I'm gonna try surfing on the lake to lure the monster to the surface. And if she eats me, then so be it. To be eaten by her would be the greatest honor of my life. Make sure you get a picture."

"Max, no."

"IT WORKS IN HAWAII, BRO, PEOPLE GET FUCKED UP BY SHARKS LIKE THIS ALL THE TIME!"

(◡ ‿ ◡ ✿) Inquisitive. Don't ask him how something works unless you really want an answer. Don't ask why something is the way it is unless you long for a dissertation on that topic in a Hawaiian accent. Once presented with an unfamiliar concept or topic (or device), he has to take it apart and dissect it until he knows it as well his own hand (@God will this hangnail ever die). It makes him prone to overthinking sometimes: when an idea occurs to him, good or bad, sometimes he can't help dissecting that to death either. Sometimes it works to his benefit and he's able to see several sides to a situation. Other times it's awful and leaves him up at night, quietly throwing small paper balls at Thaddeus to see how many it takes to make him stop snoring.

(◡ ‿ ◡ ✿) Affectionate. Max is of the opinion that you can't be a good bear without giving good bear hugs! He's the type to enjoy semi-constant contact with his friends, arms over shoulders, legs (he has a lot of leg to deal with, come on) in some unfortunate soul's lap, offers to piggyback or princess-carry his friends when the ground is particularly muddy (friend gets to be mud-free, Max got his survival training in for the day, everybody wins AND they bonded!) It's obvious 99% of the time that his touches are strictly platonic and friendly. And when they're not, you'll know.

(◡ ‿ ◡ ✿) Principled. True to form for a kid who grew up in a (hippie) commune, Max is 100% Dedicated to an ideology of fostering a sustainable coexistence between mankind and Mommy Earth. (Yes, even for evil birds!) He's peaceable and not prone to getting into petty arguments (because...they're petty, you guys, that's lame...), but he gets pretty intense pretty quick when argument escalates past decency, even for teenagers. Being intentionally cruel is more than his little vegan heart can stand, and he'll call anyone on their BS, friend or otherwise

(◡ ‿ ◡ ✿) Disciplined. So...his commitment to that sustainable co-existence ideology is maybe a little concerning. Hey ho hey ho, that Ebonhide perfectionist streak he does show-- [*jaunty whistle tune here*] For as free-spirited and lackadaisical as he comes across, he's a Scheduler and sticks to his regimented itinerary with a vengeance. He has this mildly disturbing habit of waking at the buttcrack of dawn (or disappearing a, rain or shine, sleet or snow, to go sprinting (not jogging--sprinting) on the Gooseberry paths, and always with a weighted hiking bag on. He's either training for Greenpeace Missions or an Auror Hit Squad and nobody's really sure which.

...or he'll tell you that it's important to be fit and in good physical health if you're planning to track creatures of unknown temperament through the wilds while carrying all your gear and equipment on your back. Danger could come to punch you in the face with a glowy feathered fist at any moment! You gotta be prepared! 

Just wave as he passes by and he'll wave back! 

SKILLS

LANGUAGES SPOKEN: English, Hawaiian Pidgin ("It's called local, bro"), Barely Existent German because everyone in Gruene is so proud of being """German""" that you tend to pick up a phrase or two whether you want to or not, and some Welsh but it’s barely more useful than his """German""". He tried teaching himself Samoan once, with the aid of an ancient grammar book that the Texas library system took weeks to ship to him and sketchy articles on the World’s Slowest Internet but all he really remembers is how to count to thirty. Which will be useful, probably, when he goes to Samoa and needs to count the exact number of bad ideas that led to this life choice.


PATRONUS: He's highkey terrified it'll end up being a bird of some sort. IF he could cast one (he's working on it!), an ocelot. 


SKILLS:

(◡ ‿ ◡ ✿) Photography. A side-effect from lugging around his Mom's old Polaroid after his unfortunate PUNCHING INCIDENT in Texas. He started taking photos for the express purpose of evidence, should punchy bird and his ilk show up again for round two of feathery fisticuffs. The practice was an added bonus and he eventually became his family's go-to media guy for family photos, family movies, and family protest videos to MACUSA against some new anti-environmental policy being enacted. Double added bonus: The kid with the camera gets to snap pics of cuties...both ghostly and not-ghostly. 

(◡ ‿ ◡ ✿) Music Ukelele! His skill here is fairly sing-ular. Oh man, that was punderful. Anyway. His musical talent extends only to his ability to do some mad shredding on his tiny tiny ukelele. Kuku is one of those grandpas that sits on his own front porch on a Saturday with an unlit cigar  clenched between his teeth, strumming out old aimless melodies that are just a little too melancholic...so it's tradition, obviously, and his grandson has to be able to do the same thing when he's old and gray, if he survives long enough and stops chasing nonexistent animals off cliffs.

(◡ ‿ ◡ ✿) Surfing. God, yes, it's a stereotype and one he embraces WHOLEHEARTEDLY. He can often be found in the warmer months, gently trolling the Boating Club by using the Tide Charm on his board to make (what he would define as) small waves on the lake. You know--to keep things interesting and maybe get the beautiful Goosey to show her lovely face.

(◡ ‿ ◡ ✿) Artsy-fartsy. Again, his skill here is very specialized. He draws comics (aka Anya is going to...draw comics...) for his own entertainment (and sometimes his friends'). He's surprisingly shy about his drawings and doesn't really show them off like he would with anything else. Art is subject and the truth hurts. He likes to keep his superheroes on their pedestals.

(◡ ‿ ◡ ✿) The ability to bullshit and keep it rolling. What an undervalued skill. It's like, necessary to life. Or at least it gets him out of most situations he doesn't really feel like being in, gets him into a lot of situations he probably shouldn't be in but made the executive decision to be in ANYWAY, and it definitely got him onto the Event Committee. No shade, guys. Mad respect. 

 

HISTORY

FAMILY MEMBERS:

Indigo Skye Brynmor Pendergast: ONCE A COOL DUDE NOW TURNED STODGY MIDDLE-AGED GUY. Max's dadmonster. He used to be a free spirited hippie naturalist, in tune with his surroundings and at peace with the world--but then his dad got all weird and uptight and "is this how you're going to live the rest of your life Brynmor, how are you going to feed yourself after I die Brynmor, INCOME TAXES BRYNMOR". So he cut his hair, shaved off a truly impressive beard, took a correspondence course, and now he's a boring CPA-dude for Gruene's local shops (both mundane and magical), trying to recapture his rebellious youth by wearing vintage band tees under his suit jackets and sporting a truly horrifying mullet comb-over to hide his bald spot and weak will. 

Cynddelw Pendergast: SUPER STRICT GRANDDAD. Nobody can recall in living memory ever having seen this man crack a smile--except like, once, when Max was A Super Baby and both "Grandpa" and "Cynddelw" were a bit out of his area of expertise. But apparently "w-w*" wasn't too hard for Maxie's wee infantile mouthhole. Cynddelw's sort of a strange fixture in Gruene, being decidedly Not The Artsy Type that populates the town. There's a running bet to see how long it'll be until he says "bah humbug"; we're getting closer every year. The townsfolk treat him with a sort of goodnatured tolerance...but they kind of have to. He's a real estate broker. 

(*Pronounced "woo-woo"; Welsh is cool, you guys)

Hokulani Kahale: THE MOMS. The true embodiment of the wandering bohemian spirit and anti-establishment fiscal irresponsibility, living in a trailer and selling the poke from one the most popular foodtrucks in Kailua. She moonlights as a artist sometimes for the commune, painting vans, trucks, and trailers and other times for the "Here Today, Gone to Maui" Surf Shop--it's totally not because of nepotism, even though her parents own it. Moms is the chillest and most supportive of maternal lifegivers.
 
Noe (Tutu) and Keanu (Kuku) Kahale: Max's grandparents; they're soft as sand and as easygoing as the tides. They own a popular surf shop well-known for its longboards around the islands, impeccably charmed for stability on the waves and beautifully painted with designs that won't fade. They've left the commune and now live above their store with their four wonderful pitbulls. 

HISTORY:

Okay, so here’s the haps, bros:

Once upon a time, a (hippie) commune from Texas took a portkey to a festival hosted by another (hippie) commune on the lovely, romantic island of Oahu. The communes threw their music and art and lifestyle festival (very illegally, might we add) on the small islet of Moku Nui, hidden from the prying eyes of Muggles. A (...hippie) boy from the Texas met a local (...hippie) girl from Kailua, thought her tattoos were really cool, and asked if he could see the rest of them. (Dadmonster had mad game back before he had to go home and conform to the system).  

The two communes continued...communing for a month--maybe two, time’s a weird thing when you eat a lot of organic brownies that do weird stuff to your perception of the passage of time as a rational concept...but anyway. Boy From Texas and Girl From Hawaii decided they were In Love, and when the mainland (hippie) commune returned to Texas, Boy From Texas stayed behind with Girl From Hawaii and they would sup together from the goblet of love--at least until Morning Sickness Incorporated knocked (up?) that metaphorical sippy-cup to the ground. Oops.

So after a nine month honeymoon period and a natural water birth that nobody really needs nor wants to hear about, Max Ainalani--

("Pen...dergast?" Hokulani asked hesitantly. "Is that how you say it?")

("It's Welsh," replied Indigo Skye, a Texan Formerly Known As Brynmor Pendergast.)

("--Ainalani Pen...dergast, then. I guess.")

So little Max Ainalani spent most of his growing-up years in the Oahu (Hippie) Wizarding Commune, mimicking frogs and eating whole grains, quinoa, unprocessed starches, and embracing veganism. He was homeschooled primarily by his Tutu Noe alongside the other kids in the commune. Tutu Noe, despite her easygoing Granny exterior, is a total grades-demon. But Max's natural curiosity and tenacity served him well and he passed MACUSA's Evil Hawaii Statewide Testing Program with flying colors each year.

When Max was nine, Indigo Skye Brynmor received word from back home in Gruene (that's Texas, y'all) that his mother, who had been in poor health for some time, was nearing the end of her life. So at Hokulani's urging and with her blessing, he left Oahu to tend to his mother at the twilight of her life. A few months later, he sent an owl back, explaining that his mother had passed away. He wouldn't be returning to Hawaii, stating that he wanted to stay to care for his aging father.

...nobody really wanted to say it out loud, but they all knew Brynmor had been bullied and guilted into staying in Texas by his father. (Max's grandparents had a good, long laugh about it while Hokulani rolled her eyes). His parents parted on extremely amiable terms with each other; they weren't married so there was no alimony to take each other to court over, custody was easily settled with Max staying primarily with his mother during the week and portkeying to spend weekends with his father and grandfather in Texas. Which, okay--pretty cool. He got to be a cowboy on the weekends. Nice.

But hey. The weird thing about going from the island to the mainland is that you know, subconsciously, that the island is static--nothing changes all that drastically; once you know something and are familiar with something, nothing really can surprise you much. But to go to Texas, which has an almost...oppressively open feeling of liminal space, the possibilities seem nearly endless; you could see anything.

So for Max, running into a huge-mongous glowing creature on a horse trail that he couldn't readily identify but that shrieked when it saw him and punched him in the face as it flew away--well, first of all, fuck birds forever now. Second of all--the World's Slowest Internet told him that the creature he was describing could only be an alicanto. Which categorically did not exist. Even Granddad, Grand Poo-bah (humbug) Wizard of Gruene said so. Name a six foot bird that glows living in Texas though. Name one. That's what he thought.

When he turned fourteen, a letter came in the mail from the mainland. Heavy paper--that meant either bills or an obituary. Actually, it was neither; his repeated exemplary performance with MACUSA'S Evil Hawaii Statewide Testing Program had put him on the radar of Gooseberry's Scholarship Program for Gifted Students and Would He Like To Apply? 

A chance to spend some actual time on the mainland investigating glowy punchy birds?

Um, duh. 

SCHOOL

YEAR: JUNIOR!!!
HOUSE: EBONHIDE PRIDE!!!
SORTING: At first glance, he seems like an odd fit for Ebonhide. It's a house that seems to have a reputation for lethargy being more reserved than its fellow houses. But in his own (admittedly weird) way, he fits the traits of Ebonhide well. But also, man, when the Sorting was going on in freshman year and he saw all those way uptight-looking kids being tossed into the Bear Cave, he (impulsively...) made it a Mission to Get In There And Liven It UP. So his Sorting consisted of him marching into the Sorting Cave and informing the emblems that he didn't think this system was very democratic (he was wrong, but he was also 14 and stupid) and that those Ebonbabies needed him. Obviously they were really moved by his altruism.
WAND: Eucalyptus wood, Thunderbird tail feather core, 11 (and a half) inches.
FAMILIAR: Solomon Webb.

CLASSES:

Core: Charms, Herbology, OE, Potions, Transfigurations

Electives: Magizoology, DADA

ADVANCED STUDY: Animagus Study. Listen, to be a successful cryptozoologist, you have to be able to blend in with your scenery, to keep yourself from alarming the subject and, you know, maybe accept the nature of Nature and get eaten--

If he could turn into a jackalope, that would be badass, bro. He can't (yet), but he would turn into a raccoon and give everyone MAD THUMB-Y PROPS with his OPPOSABLE DIGITS.

SENIOR PROJECT: Nobody's exactly sure what he's doing, but it's led to an alarming array of homebrew technology stashed under his bed that sometimes beeps alarmingly and that he has expressly forbidden anyone from touching. "For your own safety". Savage. 
ACADEMIC PERFORMANCE: [LOUD SPONGE NOISES] ...he's really enjoying all of his classes. Homeschooling was cool and not quite as strict as standardized curriculum, but the resources are so much more readily available here than they were in Hawaii and he's now got both the opportunity and the excuse to bury himself in the library and nobody will think it's (too) weird! Maddest props to Mrs. O'Hare though, Magizoology is where it's at.

EXTRACURRICULARS: Drama Club, Event Committee, LARP, OE. YA BOI KEEPING BUSY.

OOC

NAME: Anya
EMAIL: youpromisedmejetpacks@gmail.com
OTHER PREFERRED CONTACT: HMU ON DISCORD THO Anya#4115
TIME ZONE: EST