what's hot and what's not
Age: 14 years
Build: Skinny and angular
Is: An independant thinker
No stealing, no removing the link back to this page, no ripping off my username, no claiming as your own, no taking a custom that doesn't belong to your pet (you are more than welcome to take a default adoptable, however), no altering these for your own purposes, and no matter how colorful they are, you mustn't eat them. They don't really taste like Skittles.
Requests: If we're friends
Might do painteds later.
to do: none
Drovic is what some people would deem "weird." Reclusive by habit but outgoing by nature, he's a paradoxical social hazard that not many people would choose to keep company with. He seems oblivious to how awkward he is most times, however, and enjoys life at full throttle no matter what he's doing; whether it's building a homemade car bomb, blasting foreign rock music from his hand-me-down stereo, base-jumping from the roof of his twelve-story apartment, drawing on his own face with Sharpies, baking jellybean cookies, arguing the existence of the highly endangered "rainbow baboons" (which Drovic will swear are real), or creating origami warriors for an epic battle on the dining room table, Drovic gives it his all and has a blast. The same cannot be said for his beleaguered young uncle, Stanello, who tries to balance finishing college with two part-time jobs and making sure his eccentric nephew doesn't blow up the house while he's away.
Stan is only eight years older than Drovic and the two have their share of rows, but although they have a hard time agreeing on most anything, Stan still loves Drovic and tries to take care of him as best he can. Drovic's mother had perished shortly after his birth and left the young Zafara on his own, his father having vanished long ago. Growing up in the city orphanage, shunned by his peers for his odd appearance, he had to become friends with anybody else he could, including the hobo who lived in the dumpster down the block and most importantly, the creature his hobo friend fished up out of the dumpster for him: His petpet, Harold. Drovic bonded instantly with the wretched Harris and the two have been thick as thieves ever since. Harold puts up with a lot, and the petpet is usually found passed out under the bathroom sink. Stan took his nephew in after graduating high school, sometimes joking that it was the second worst decision he'd ever made (the first being majoring in English literature).
I think I probably should have mentioned before that Drovic is an albino. This makes normal life a little difficult for him, as his condition not only prevents him from being out in the sun for long and requires him to wear special glasses, but also affects the way other people treat him; most find his appearance "creepy" or "unnatural," avoiding him or openly staring at the boy as though he were a freak on display. Drovic often chooses not to present himself to the scrutinizing eye of the public and usually does his best to avoid people. This takes its toll on the normally upbeat Zafara, turning him into a sulky and depressed cynic at his worst. Usually alone in his small, dark room, where he feels safe and wanted, Drovic finds escape in drawing. Drawing is one of the things that he loves best, usually covering the walls of his bedroom with fantastic creatures, landscapes, and patterns. Stan always makes him paint back over it, since they don't own the apartment, but Drovic doesn't really mind; it just means that he can start all over again tomorrow.
Drovic is a die-hard believer in the unconventional, the unloved, and the unpopular. Often found campaigning to save the rainbow baboons (THEY EXIST), his odd behavior coupled with his odd appearance makes him a target of derision. He's often bullied or shunned at school. Drovic has very few friends outside of his uncle or the dumpster hobo, so much of his conversation happens between him and his journal (named Steve). Highly possessive of this battered little book, Drovic treats Steve like a real person and confides everything to him; his fears for the future, his concern for his uncle, his longing for acceptance, his anger at himself for being born a mistake, his 'discoveries' on rainbow baboons, and the doodles he always has plenty of time to come up with. Drovic also keeps a running commentary in the book on the behavior of his neighbors, with detailed schedules, psycho-analysis, and ridiculous codenames. Spying through his window with the pair of second-hand binoculars the dumpster hobo gifted him is one of his favorite past-times.
Drovic has an insatiable curiosity and a love for learning, and being the bright and perceptive lad that he is, has no trouble grasping new concepts or scoring good grades in school. While this might seem like a blessing, it's actually a double-edged sword; being smarter than most of his other classmates means Drovic gets bored in class very easily, and ends up getting low marks for class participation (since he had long since lost interest in the topic at hand), or getting into trouble for disruptive behavior and being off-task. Middle school isn't challenging enough to engage Drovic, so when he comes home he teaches himself with Stan's old college books. Anything he doesn't understand he'll try to figure out for himself, since his independent nature rebels against asking for help, but when he's truly stumped, he'll drop hints to his uncle for a bit of a leg-up, and Stan, who is also thankfully pretty quick on the draw, can help his nephew out without embarrassing Drovic too much.
When not engaged in pogo-sticking around the apartment building, cooking strange and questionably edible things he finds in old cookbooks, or drawing pictures of rainbow baboons, the quirky Zafara enjoys annoying his uncle, exploring the city by night with Harold on his shoulder, and daydreaming about a girl named Atris. Drovic is firm in his affection towards her, as she is one of the only people outside his little internalized universe that shows a preference for hanging out with him. She discovered Drovic one evening in a tree in the local city park, binoculars to his face; Harold had gone missing. Atris offered to help the albino boy find his petpet, and over the course of their adventure that night (it turns out Harold was curled up under Stan's writing desk in the apartment), the two became fast friends. Often going out of her way to show companionship to lonely Drovic, Atris is a kind and (Drovic thinks) beautiful girl, and he loves nothing better than when they can spend time together just talking or sometimes cooking at Atris's house; the two are in different classes at school, so they only get to see each other on weekends. She's always promising to take Drovic to the beach, where her family owns a local tiki-style restaurant, but they both know that since Drovic would burn to a crisp in an instant in that kind of direct sunlight, it's more of a running joke between the two than anything else. Atris also helps Drovic in social situations, helping others to breach the awkwardness of his behavior and unusual appearance by treating him as though he was the same as any other person. In return, Drovic provides her with undying loyalty, hilarious conversations, and many great adventures fueled by his love for life and his ability to turn anything mundane into something special.
Next year, Drovic is starting high school and he and Atris will be in the some of the same classes. While Drovic is intensely excited about this new development, his uncle Stan has misgivings.
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Dear Steve, how have you been today? I hope you're nice and well-rested from your nap under the sofa. Man, how do you get so lucky? I wish I could fit under the sofa. Anyways, me? Pretty boring, I guess. Nothing too bad, though. I woke up this morning and there were these really weird noises coming from the bathroom. I grabbed the Creeper Beater bat, you know, the one we keep near the door, just in case the Tralfamadorians had come back. I was totally gonna beat the snot out of them, but it turns out the weird noises was just Stan singing while he showered. Go figure. He's really mad at me right now for whacking him around the head through the curtain (he should have locked the bathroom door, it's not my fault), so he's sent me to my room. It's okay though. He's leaving for his Anthropology class in a few minutes and then we can sneak out; there's a ton of leftover paint that Mrs. Thyler downstairs said I could have. We're going to use it to redecorate the Lair again. Hehe. Oh, and I bought some Gummy Bears last night so we can re-enact a few Lord of the Rings: Return of the King battles with those too. Then throw them in some cake mix and turn them into brownies. That'll be fun. I gotta go, need to study for a test tomorrow.
March 17th, 2010.
Dear Steve. We're out of peanut butter. Call in reinforcements.
March 18th, 2010.
Steve, I've been so bored today. When I got home from the longest day at school ever, I took Harold bungee jumping; got a few rubber bands and lashed them together for the cord. Then I tied it around Harold, took him up to the top of the apartments, and I threw him off the roof. I bet it would have worked if I'd remembered to tie the other end of bungee cord onto an anchor. It's a good thing Harold landed on a busted old mattress that somebody had dragged out to the dumpster. Speaking of the mattress, once I'd gotten down there (stupid sun, why does it have to be so bright?) and made sure Harold hadn't broken anything significant, I found some very nifty springs just poking out of the thing (the mattress, not Harold) that I decided could be used. I took Harold and the springs back up to my room and I made Harold a robotic combat suit. It was very awesome. But Harold didn't like it. I think. It's hard to tell with the guy. Atris called on the phone today and we got to talk for about an hour. Her life is so much more interesting than mine. She told me about her family's awesome restaurant on the beach, about how beautiful the sunset is there. I want to go to the beach and see the sunset too. When Stan came home today I asked him about it, but he didn't seem very into the idea. He mainly just grunted, something along the lines of "not a good idea," and then dragged himself onto the couch and fell asleep. At least, he would have fallen asleep if he hadn't have sat on Harold, who was still covered in pointy metal mattress springs. Ouch.
May 10th, 2010.
Sorry, Steve. I haven't written in a while. Haven't felt much like it. Nothing exciting happening. Why are all the lights in the house off again? I can't see what I'm writing; hope I'm spelling everything right. I guess it would help if I took off my sunglasses too. Maybe I'll go turn some lights on. Stan isn't home yet. I'm getting worried. He's always home by now. Oh, he just came in the door. Thank heavens. Stan's really annoying, but I don't know what would happen if he... I mean. I don't want to even talk about it. I'm always scared I'll have to go back to the orphanage. Selfish, isn't it? When my uncle goes missing all I can think about is how it will inconvenience me.
May 12th, 2010.
I asked Stan if I could have a missile as a middle school graduation present. He said no.
May 25th, 2010.
Hey Steve. SUMMER'S HERE AND SCHOOL IS OUT! Eighth grade graduation was a blast, I ate so many of those little chocolate eclair things. So glad I'm finally going to get to go to high school. Do you think people in high school will be nicer? I'm really getting tired of being called names and having my things stolen. I got to see Atris at graduation; she was in this wavy green dress that sparkled like the ocean, like her eyes. I told her she was pretty and then we all laughed when Stan showed up in his moth-eaten old tuxedo, looking like a sleepy badger stuffed in a suit. When we got home Stan showed me something really awesome: He HAD gotten me a graduation present! It wasn't a missle, don't worry. Better. It was one of those fancy sketch books like the professional artists use. I was so excited I almost threw up all those little chocolate eclair things. I can't wait to start filling it up with drawings!
June 2nd, 2010.
I told Stan I loved him. He didn't say anything but he got this weird look on his face. Then he was gone again.
June 4th, 2010
Atris came over today and we had a blast, even though I guess we just mostly talked about stuff. I swear, the entire building lights up when Atris steps through the door. How does she do that? She's been busy working at the restaurant, so I haven't gotten to see her much, so I'm really glad she was able to come see me today. Is it selfish to want people to take time out of their schedule to notice me? Maybe a little. Maybe it's justified. We talked about high school (I can't wait to go!) and all the crazy stuff they do there. There's this class called "Art Appreciation" where all you do is draw. How cool is that?! Stan probably wouldn't like that, he doesn't think that art serves a purpose. Whatever. I just still can't believe I'm going to be fifteen this fall. And a highschool freshman? I feel old. I told Stan and he said that if I was old, he was practically already dead.
June 29th, 2010.
Dear Steve, Mr. Reman from downstairs found this old guitar at a pawn shop that was going out of business. He gave it to me. It's so cool, I couldn't believe it! He said that it's in pretty bad shape, and it needs a lot of work and a new set of strings, but I didn't care; it was like a gift from heaven. It didn't seem that far gone, either. A little battered, perhaps, but nothing I couldn't fix. It just needed somebody to love it. And I knew just who would. I named it Connie and spent the whole day cleaning and tuning it up. When Atris came over later I presented her with her new guitar. She couldn't believe it! I know she's always wanted one, she's way into music. She was so excited haha, she didn't want to put it down! It doesn't have any strings yet, but she kept stroking Connie as though it did, placing her fingers to form chords that only she could hear. Atris said she could probably get her parents to buy strings for Connie, and then she hugged me. I hugged her back. We both laughed; hugs are nothing for Atris, everyone loves her. But secretly I was thinking to myself how much that hug meant to me. Me, who never got hugs. Then Atris had said that her dad had okayed her staying for dinner tonight, and I almost hugged her again. Almost. Harold decided to drag his sorry carcass into the room at that point and make a scene of coughing up a light bulb he'd swallowed, so we had to deal with that post-haste. I was embarrassed, but Atris just laughed it off. She said she wished her Petpet was as funny. Me and Atris and Harold made dinner together that night; spaghetti and meatballs with toast, and Harold stirred the Kool-Aid (after he fell in it, but don't tell Stan). When Stan got home he was pretty surprised to find the table already set and dinner waiting for him. I think he smiled for the first time in months. He's been really tired lately. I worry about him sometimes. But all that jaded weariness just melted off of him as the four of us ate dinner together, Harold under the table gnawing on a particularly well-done piece of toast. Stan seemed five years younger, he felt like one of us kids. After we all cleaned up the dinner mess (Atris kept splashing the dishwater at me and I couldn't get her back because Stan was watching, no fair!), we all played a rousing game of Monopoly and Harold lost spectacularly; he kept trying to eat his game piece. Atris got Connie out so that Stan could admire it, and he seemed mildly impressed at how well I'd been able to restore the old guitar. We bid Atris good night at around nine. She gave me another hug before she left. All in all, it was the best night I'd had in like forever. I won't forget it, ever.
thanks to everybody who's made one for Drovic!
Link back? You can take this for your own pages so everybody can be made aware of the existence of rainbow baboons.
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