Travis, Trent

Name: Trent Oswald Travis
House: Gryffindor Alumni
Occupation: Muggle Studies professor, has been around for seven years now.
Age: Thirty-three. December 28th.
Face/Celebrity: Andrew VanWyngarden
Blood: Muggleborn
Sexuality: Super hypersexual bisexual. Honestly, Trent will try to sleep with anyone whether he's attracted to them or not.

Wand: 10 1/9 inches. Inflexible, Runespoor Fang core, Padauk. It's blood red in color with floral carvings along the hilt; its indents are painted white.

Personality:
The short answer is that Trent is an absolute asshole and loves making people miserable.

The long answer would be, that Trent is the schoolyard bully that grew up with a shitty life and a shitty outlook. He was always a ragamuffin, constantly dirty and ready to fight. Hatred is all Trent really knew, and it's a feeling that still fuels him today. Being introduced into a loving adoptive home when he was eleven eased a lot of Trent's abandonment issues. He learned to express his anger through art, particularly guitar, and slowly became a reasonable human being. Despite this, Trent is constantly on guard. There is only so much he can grow, and there's only so much he can let go of. While he's no longer a complete menace to his peers, he's still kind of just a needless jerk and can be hard to be around sometimes. He makes jokes at the expense of others, all the while hiding his own sad, little, pathetic feelings from the rest of the world. Trent wants desperately to be loved, but doesn't believe it's possible. He hides those feelings behind constant one night stands and treating everyone around him like dirt. His adoptive parents divorcing around his nineteenth birthday caused a disturbance in him, and he isn't really comfortable with relationships anymore.

He hates working, but it beats eating room temperature toaster strudels by himself in a bathroom. He resorts to having his class watch muggle movies most of the time, while having an occasional assignment to keep them ready for OWLs and NEWTs or whatever, he doesn't care honestly. Oh, I should add that he creeps on girls (and guys? but mostly girls). Wasn't sure where to shove that in, but it's a thing, he's gross, get used to it.

Likes:
Writing and photography; guitar and bass; creativity in general; Quidditch (but good lord, he'd never play it); crushing egos; bromances; girls who put on lipgloss before a kiss; girls who can kick his ass; traditional wizard robes; long hair on absolutely everyone; butt touches; sleeping nude; incense; strawberry scented everything; scented lotions; not wearing underwear when in class; deep conversations with people he just met; walking in the dark; cats; "ethnic" food; chocolate; unexpected company; sitting by the fire in the common room; the concept of fire fighters (ooo so manly ooooo); tongue kisses; student drama, he luvs watching teens suffer; bad movies; talking shit; parties-- that includes student parties, he attends every party he hears about and absconds if shit goes down.

Dislikes:
People seeing him naked; manly men who act all tough with their muscles and whatnot, bruh get a room with yourself; unnecessary confrontation, and when people leave in a fit because he chewed them out; girls who think they're safe from his temper because their girls, and treat him poorly because of it; going to class; doing work; extreme temperatures; discrimination against creatures; people who make a big deal about his behavior; hypocrites; people who have the idea to "fix" him; showers; affectionate couples ("PDA that isn't with him"); being lectured, he's too old for that; traditional romances; the concept of marriage; his shitty apartment.

Skills: DADA. Dark Arts. Excellent pickpocket. Despite how big he is, he's pretty stealth and nimble at getting away.

Weaknesses: He sucks at sports and flying. Arithmancy (hell no, he didn't drop that class, it was an easy O if he bullshitted properly), and CoMC, because he just cannot be liked by living things.

Pets: An old, gray tuxedo cat that walks slowly with a limp and hisses for no reason. He has no name, but students tend to call him Oscar the Grouch. Sometimes Oscar answers Trent's questions with a hiss, and Trent accepts it as an answer.