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Matt Walker

Wizard. Or ex-wizard, depending on your perspective. "I don't think I'm cut out for this, mom. Don't you remember that time I cried for three hours because I trod on the cat's tail?"

0 · 266 views · located in Cedar Heights

a character in “"Hey, Wizard!"”, as played by Script

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You put on your robe and Wizard's hat ..

Description

Image
Name: Matt Walker (or Matrim Planestrider)
Age: 17
Role: Wizard Turncoat

Appearance: Something of a boy-next-door, weedy Matt Walker has always been a fragile-looking slip of a boy, shorter than average, thinner than average and generally looking like the word sport might send him into a panic attack. No, far from an athlete, Matt is something of a mathlete and despite not really gelling with the typical geek crowd spends a lot more time with his nose in a book or a computer than in the mud during a football game - and he looks it. At a glance his well-done hair and fashionable clothes might make him appear 'cool', but really they're more the design of his helicoptering mother than himself, and left to his own devices he'd be more likely to turn up to school in a snuggie with bed-hair than in whatever fashion she's stuck in his wardrobe as of late.

Personality: Jumpy and panicky, Matt is fragile in his manner as well as his appearance. Having never been good under pressure, the sudden dawning of an apocalypse hasn't done much for his nerves, even though he's supposed to be on the winning side. One key flaw in his usefulness for taking over the world is his loathing of hurting anything - from an irritating fly to an irritating non-wizard. That said, Matt isn't entirely useless. Who knows, maybe being told to set fire to the world will finally be the point where he grows backbone enough to disagree with a word his mother says.

Bio/Short History: Matt has always been a momma's boy. Overprotective and frankly quite terrifying, Alice Walker (or Alyssia Planestrider) has dominated Matt's life since he was very little. Determined for her little boy to be the best he can be, to excel at everything and to have more friends than he can shake a magic wand at, her helicoptering influence has dictated most of his interaction with the world. To her credit, she has mastered the art of the stealth-chopper, flicking a switch in the presence of his friends to go from pandering overbearing dictator to chilled 'cool-mom' in an instant.

As a result, Matt has always been fairly popular and privileged - his mother's efforts helped along by a fairly endearing personality, albeit a bit scatter-brained outside of academic matters, of course. When Alice told Matt that she was a wizard a few years ago, he first thought it was a joke. Then she set fire to a house plant.

He took her seriously after that.

From that point onwards, Alyssia Planestrider nurtured Matt to be the best little wizard she could ever have hoped for, but she didn't bargain on one thing - that he might eventually develop free will. When crunch time came and she told him to put his hat on and start blasting the non-wizards, he said something to her he'd never said before.

"No."

In a war between mother's influence against his terror of harming people, natural teenage rebellion tipped the scales in favour of his better nature, and Matrim Planestrider ("No, it's just Matt, for god's sake mother") ran away from home with his cyan hat firmly stuffed into his backpack.

So begins...

Matt Walker's Story

Setting

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Character Portrait: Matt Walker
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#, as written by Script
The swing in a small playground on Maplewood Avenue squeaked pitifully as it swung backwards and forwards. The playground and street were empty but for a single figure sat upon that swing, staring mournfully at a cyan hat in his lap. With his hair styled up with painstaking care and dressed in designer everything, Matt was considerably overdressed for the end of the world. But of course, when his mother had hawkingly overseen his preparations for the day, she'd been expecting him to be rather more on show than he was now.

He'd have to look his best to stand out from the others, she'd said. Nobody was going to remember the scores of wizards in robes or other silly outfits, but they'd remember the one that looked like a supermodel.

"It's always been about what people thought, hasn't it mom?" Matt muttered, kicking the ground, "About you being better than everyone else, and making sure they know it."

Being a wizard had sounded cool at first, but when his mother had told him that their first order of business was essentially terrorism, Matt had been more than a little turned off from the idea. It was likely she hadn't realised yet that he didn't share her passion for lording it over everyone else, given that he'd always meekly played along with her high-school level scheming to avoid her ire.

He had the feeling most of his wizarding peers shared her viewpoint. It was all about them being better than the 'normals', and how unfair it was that they had to pretend to be so boring and mundane when in reality they were so much more. More embarrassing, maybe. Even before he'd known that they were all wizards, his mother's dinner parties had seemed like something of an occult gathering of the mysteriously-better-than-everyone-else-in-every-way.

Even Matt admitted that there was something to being able to think of himself as 'more' than his peers. He was a wizard, he was powerful. He could make people burst into flames with a flick of his wrist. But unlike some of his mother's clique, he just didn't want to. He hated hurting things - from bugs to feelings. Or as his mother would put it, he was an overly sensitive wet blanket. Sometimes people had to be trodden on to get to the top, but quite frankly Matt was afraid of heights, so he was quite happy on this particular rung of the ladder for the moment, thank you very much.

And so he brooded on. Eventually, he thought, he was going to have to decide what he was going to do next. He certainly wasn't going to go around setting fire to things, he thought, but was he going to do anything else? Maybe he should just keep his head down and then say he'd gone around setting fire to things when everything quieted down (or not, if the wizards lost, he supposed).

He couldn't just sit here, either way. Someone would come by sooner or later and he didn't want to count on them not tattling on him. Sighing, he put his feet on the ground and halted the swing. He shoved his hat back into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder as he stood. Making his way out of the park with apprehension painted plain as day upon his face, Matt started to walk. He had no idea where he was going. He'd probably figure it out when he got there.