hubert amadeus canard !

[huey]

"hey, aren't we innocent until proven guilty?" - huey

NAME: Hubert Amadeus Canard.
NICKNAMES: Huey, preferably.
AGE: Fifteen.
BIRTHDAY: December 2nd.
ORIENTATION: Heterosexual.
NATIONALITY: French, technically, though he certainly doesn't live there anymore.
OCCUPATION: High school sophomore.
PLAYED BY: Joe Brooks.
DISNEY: Huey – recurring character.
USER GROUP: Childlike.

PERSONALITY !

LEADER LIKE! Huey established himself to be a force to be reckoned with at the age of four. His first day of preschool, he decided he wanted a second snack at snack time. Within seven minutes, he had convinced several classmates that they should have two snacks. His teacher never gave in, but the charismatic nature of the child simply grew as time went on. After joining an organization, he began to develop more into a true leader. He began to make decisions for the whole of his troop, and was very efficient at convincing people that his ideas were good. Though not necessarily the best influence on people, he is rather good at making people feel like he knows what he's doing. He is rather friendly and outgoing, only adding to his sphere of influence. He is generally an optimistic guy, and is always willing to reach out and try to involve himself with everyone around him. He's also the one who is always speaking up and making himself known, and often very difficult to miss.
POLITE! From a young age, Huey was pushed to be a "good kid." Granted, his actions are not perfect, but he can pretend, right? He became very interested in an organization similar to the boy scouts, and it dramatically changed his behavior. It taught him how to carry around his manners in his back pocket, never leaving them out of sight. He is one of those guys who likes to prove that chivalry is not dead, and he likes to give people a good perspective of him. He will hold the door open for somebody around him, though normally a girl. He has a great amount of respect for authority figures and adults, or at least gives the impression he does. He will sit there and nod through a conversation, only speaking when being spoken to. In class, he raises his hands before speaking. If he begins to speak when someone near him does, he will stop and allow them to finish. He is always one to bring his manners to social occurances. He will remember to say "please" and "thank you." He cleans up after himself when in a place that isn't his home.
IRRESPONSIBLE! Huey isn't exactly the "smart one." He may be a bit intelligent, but he very rarely thinks things through. He is extremely bad at planning and very forgetful. He often tries to plan things out, but it never really comes together. He is one of those boys who makes plans and then makes other ones. He is not very good at remaining faithful to most people, aside from the rest of his group. He tends to go back on promises and be neglectful to those he does make. Huey also doesn't always make the best decisions. He may lie to someone about where he is going, so they aren't upset at him. He may lie to them about his actions, so that he doesn't hurt them. He may be the leader out of the group, but he often makes poor choices. He can be unreliable and duck out of that typical head honcho role he often falls into, trying to pin blame elsewhere. This isn't to say that he's a horrible person, he tries not to be, he just isn't the sharpest tool in the shed and often fails to see that his actions could have very negative consequences.

QUIRKS: He has a certain way to his speach patterns, which he blames on his hometown and learning of English. For example, he says the term uncle as unca. He always is with his phone, and often tinkering and messaging with it.

LIKES: Fireworks, ice cream, hats, pranks, shaped rubber bands, swimming, his troop, Chinese food, chewing gum, having fun, social events, birds, hot chocolate, airplanes.
DISLIKES: Detentions, report cards, ringtones that distort speakers, anything that distorts a speaker, cold weather, snow, cats, things that become "moral examples," negative people, strong perfume, cough syrup, knowing he messed up, perfectionists, ginger.

HISTORY !

France.

It's a lovely country, if ever you have the opportunity to travel there. The French countryside is where our story begins, a small town in which Hubert was born. His parents were a bit odd, his American mother and French father. He was never really out of place, of course. His parents began to educate him early, and he quickly became known as a bit of a trouble-maker. Trouble-maker. That all-encompassing term for one who raises a ruckus and eventually will be labeled either a delinquent or a revolutionary. His mother was a stay at home sort of woman, and she was the one who would have to stop by for the occasional meeting with his teacher to determine what the problem was. Despite this, he lived a very plain, happy childhood. Sure, he got away with a lot more than he probably should have, but did it really matter? He was nine when he got himself into a spot of trouble, though. He had placed fireworks under his father's chair. Luckily, they went off before the man was able to sit down, but there was still a bit of damage. The incident placed the man in the hospital, and Huey's mother decided that it would be best to send him off to live with his uncle while his father was recovering.

Huey did not get off to a good start with his uncle.

At all.

His uncle was a man who was interested in the navy, or had been in the navy, or something of that sorts. Huey was never paying attention when his uncle explained it. Either way, Donald eventually realized that his words were having no effect and when he punished the boy for misbehaving, it didn't work. He began a different approach. One day, Huey came home from school to be loaded up into his uncle's SUV and taken to a local scout meeting. Though he at first acted as if he were "too cool" for the other boys, they began to grow on him. He complained all the way home, but when Donald shrugged and said he wouldn't make him go back, Huey threw a fit. He found a new place of acceptance with the organization, a sort of boy scouts group. His behavior increased exponentially upon his joining, but he was still a bit of a tricky kid. It wasn't very long until he was at the top of the pack in the club. Many of the other boys were amazed by his confidence, despite the fact that his English was extremely shaky for the first year. Donald never expected the boy to latch on to a part of the local culture so quickly.

He never did hear from his parents after that.

Early on that path, he found his partners in crime – the Dewey and Louie to his Huey, the other two musketeers to get him through life. They were inseparable from the start, three peas in a pod. Now, in high school, Huey has learned that he can rely on them for anything. They compliment him perfectly, and all together, they are unstoppable. Individually, they seem unique, but they are truly a unit. They know each other perfectly well, Huey once more taking the position of leader to get them into all sorts of havoc and mayhem. Through the childhood days of playing with whoopee cushions, to the nights spent talking about everything from girls to matches. They are his best friends, his brothers, and Huey wouldn't have it any other way.

SAMPLE !

He had been trying to set a few ground rules for the household. He knew the differences between things, he knew what not to do. But his roommate? The other young man seemed confused and lost in the realm of Los Angeles. He had come to town for God knows what reason, and gotten absorbed without being fully aware of what was happening. Thus, Christian had been finding ways to show him what he ought to do. Normally he only gave him little morsels of advice, with the intention that they added up into a set of life guidelines to keep the other man from going out and doing something incredibly stupid. He should never be out alone. He should never think he is safe. He should never try to stop a gang member with a gun – especially not a Bruiser. He should know that even the girls can be dangerous, especially girls who were Bruisers and had guns.

The lesson of the night?

If somebody comes to the house after nine o'clock, you don't want to answer it.

Of course, Chris could go through all of the limits until he was blue in the face, but it didn't mean anything. His roommate had to figure out whether or not to trust him – that was another one, be wary of who you trust – and had to actually enforce these ideas. Still, it wouldn't hurt to try. Maybe some of it did go through, and he was saving himself from having to pay all of the rent. If there was one thing that he hated to part with, it was his money. Though his family had wealth, most of it didn't actually go to Chris. He was a bit of an embarrassment, he imagined, for his parents. Sure, he knew how to stay alive and could pull strings all throughout Los Angeles, but he was a gangster who went to college for a year before dropping out. He may have been one of the experts on how not to get killed when getting your groceries, but he wasn't prestigious. Thus, his brother received financial aid while Chris had to hunt down a roommate who either wouldn't kill him or wouldn't run about, trying to get killed.

"What the –" he began, his brow creasing, as he let the words hang in the air. He sat up from his spot on the dusty couch, scowling slightly. Midnight? He had been asleep since he had turned on the nightly news close to half an hour ago. In the back of his mind, he considered simply ignoring it. His eyes slid shut, and for a moment, he thought he was going to get away with it. Then came shouting of someone: female, young, a familiar voice, though he couldn't remember off the top of his head how. Shortly after, came a call from his roommate, telling him to get off his ass and go get the door. He smirked faintly to himself. So the boy was learning, however slowly, to leave the drama for Chris. He had a job in the morning, he probably just wanted to roll over and close his eyes again. Chris brought himself to his feet, folding his arms as he began to shuffle slowly down the hall.

"Coming, coming..." he responded as he reached the heavy door, his voice just loud enough to hear outside, his tone almost mocking. Chris peered through the peephole, his eyes widening. "..Dear." His brow creased. No, no, no. What was she doing here? This wasn't good. Although, he was pretty sure that he hadn't been arrested for anything recently, and he had paid off everything he owed. He thought. He swore softly, quickly looking around. Nothing blatantly stolen or illegal was sitting out, that was good, and his boys weren't all completely lost causes. He hesitated for a moment more, before slowly opening the door a bit. The deadbolt was unlocked, yes, but not everything allowed her to just barge into his abode. A pin still connected from the wall to the door, slid into place and with the chain giving just enough space for him to see seen staring out as he stood there. He ran a hand through his messy hair before it fell to his side.

"Can I help you?"

A faint smirk was evident on his face as he leaned against the wall. Oh, boy, he could just picture the kick the neighbors were getting out of this. How were they supposed to react to some girl in leather showing up at his house with a few guns? His mind was racing, panicking a bit. What was he going to do? Her type of people didn't just casually show up, armed. There had to be a reason. But what? Was it something he could get around? Or did he just have to actually listen to her? He needed to be at least a step ahead, but that was difficult when he didn't know what was going on. She knew him too well to let him get away with being ahead of the game.

ABOUT YOU!

OHHAITHUR, I'M QUINN AND I'M A PRETTY MUSICAL PERSON. I'M SEVENTEEN, BUT DON'T FRET YO, I THINK THIS PLACE IS AMAZING. I'M SO GLAD I FOUND IT THROUGH AN AD. OH, AND JUST SO YOU KNOW, MY FAVORITE DISNEY MOVIE IS TREASURE PLANET.

[caitcat]