Male Human, 26, Middling Sorcerer
Rick is quiet and tends to be a little bit of a loner. Not out of any real desire to be by himself but because of a terrible kind of stage fright. He's embarrassed of himself a little, and feels pressured by other people's presence; pressured to be real. He likes Van Gogh, and Muse. Prefers smarties to m&m's and likes biathalons, something of a hangover from childhood, plus the guns are badass.
Rick's usually got a notebook of some kind on him and a long thin dowel. It's not a wand . . . or so he says. Just a prop to help him get the job done. He also usually has several writing utensils: pens, markers, pastels, paintbrushes, pencils and chapstick. Occasionally his wallet finds its way into his pocket too.
Rick is the creative sort. Unfortunately for him, none of the arts stuck particularly well. His stage fright led him to abandon poor Ophelia in rehearsal, his lack of motor skill erased him straight out of drawing, he couldn't hold a tune or read music, computers made him edgey, sculpting made passable sand castles, and poetry was only something he could recite, not create. Thus college failed him. So he turned to sorcery, and was surprisingly fairly decent at it. Rick is an excitable, often mildly unreasonable experimenter. Though by no means a nutty professor type, he doesn't tend to make a lot of friends. Friends require socializing and intimacy: and stage fright continues to plague him. He does have a kind heart though, and tries to help when he can: "Give back to your community" his parents always told him. So he tries to be the best he can be.