Should I call him Pepe? I dunno. Maybe even he doesn’t. It doesn’t matter. It’s Pepe until I think of something better.
Reading books are boring. Unless you can blow houses up with them. If weren’t for that, Pepe would never read anything. The pen truly is mightier than the sword - provided that pen writes the scroll which casts a spell which turns whoever hapless sod happens to be holding the sword into damp little gibbly bits of ex-fighter.
Yes, Pepe is a wizard - if you’d call him that. He’s restless, easily bored, and has a well of mischeivous intellect constantly seeking an outlet. No risk, no fun. And it’s all about having fun.
Once when Pepe was but an young lad, his mother shouted at him for playing with tindertwigs. “It’s all fun and games until you burn down the house!” she said. Well it was, and he did, and she was right. As he watched the house burn he realised that it wasn’t just fun any more. It was therapy. He left home (rather abruptly) after that, and sought a life of excitement. He joined a circus and became a clown for a time. For a short while he was content with playing minor pranks and performing, but as time passed he could no longer amuse himself with such mere tricks. The performers were regularly checking the trapeeze for grease, the lion tamers were becoming good at finding catnip, and amusement was becoming harder and harder to come by. One day he acquired an old tome from a travelling wizard he’d accidetally set on fire. The book contained lots of cryptic symbols and runes, and he made a deal with the circus’ magician to teach him how to read it. It took time, but he was determined to unlock the power of chaos and set his full intellect to the task. It was many months later that he acheived his ultimate goal of being the sole survivor of a horrible magical accident which wiped the entire circus, including its audience, from the face of the entertainment industry.