When god made Foster he mixed two teaspoons of ginger, a dollop of apprehension, and then a whole heaping bag of existential crisis. The epiphany of a middle-child, Foster lives obsessively by routine and has wore the same pair of sneakers for two years. He enjoys company but reacts like a poorly executed science experiment in awkward atmospheres and just might say something stupid (and he's very sorry for it).

Foster grew up in Glasgow with his older brother and younger sister in a well-to-do home. Not rich and not poor the Clives rest somewhere in the middle, where their children can live comfy and naive but still not yet spoiled. Second in line to attend Hogwarts, Foster's expectations are moderately low and his parents' even lower with his sister readying for her first year as well.

While tragically awkward, Foster often claims the title of mom-friend in social groups, being a stick-in-the-mud with good intentions. His fiery mane of red hair contrasts laughably with his 'unbuttered toast' personality, while his chewed fingernails mirror it perfectly. Being a creature of habit, once he's attached to something he's likely to never let it go. He dresses cozy and mainly for comfort, and requires a good deal of peer pressure to leave his shell. However, those that do force themselves into his life are stuck with a very good friend.