Post by lukas on Feb 12, 2012 21:58:37 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 390px; border: 10px solid #1d1715; background-color: #e5e5e5] LUKAS SANTIAGO FULL NAME lukas connor santiago NICKNAMES luke, lucky. GENDER male. SEXUALITY straight. AGE & DATE OF BIRTH seventeen, may twentieth. MEMBER GROUP high school student. ABILITY oneirokinesis. OCCUPATION cashier at starbucks. FACE CLAIM matthew hitt. THE TRAITS Relaxed when it comes to social situations and other people, an only child, has never really cared for social and family expectations, has a closet problem with alcohol, is afraid he can't make his father proud, loves being around people, but likes being alone when he's not in a good mood, considered a 'social butterfly', extremely intelligent but doesn't apply himself, likes observing people and seeing how they work, can act incredibly self righteous and arrogant in certain situations, never had to work but chose to for dignity reasons, incredibly charming around woman, tries to skate by in life, can be annoyingly distant, doesn't like to get too close to people because he's afraid of being hurt, hates that he can't control his power and it lowers his self esteem. THE STORY Lukas Connor Santiago was born in the dismal town of Portland, Oregon. Lukas was the first and only child of Christina and Percy Santiago, and they loved him with all of their heart. Percy was an accountant, not a very exciting job, but a job all the same. And Christina was a stay at home mom, who cared for her baby more than anything. But they were never normal - despite what Lukas had always thought and believed. In fact, his family was as far from normal as could be. You see, Percy Santiago was actually a mutant. Not like, tentacles coming out of his stomach, and he didn't turn big, green and angry. But, he was a mutant, all the same. He had the power of Illusionarykinesis, and he kept himself under check. He'd spent years trying to get a grip on the one thing that made him what he desperately wanted to be - normal. He hid it and shoved it away, and when he had his son, he hoped - for his son's sake - that he wouldn't have the same burden and curse. Of course, Percy passed on his mutant genes. Lukas, although not developing Illusionarykinesis, developed Oneirokinesis, the ability to view and manipulate people's dreams. He wouldn't know this, actually, until the later years of his life. Lukas always had a knack for making friends. From a young age, he was always the one who tried the hardest to make everyone he knew fell included. He wasn't a very good painter, and he wasn't very good at anything - really, just meager at everything, but people still admired him for his behavior. He always reached out to those who weren't included, and although he sometimes used the excuse that he 'knew what it felt like', he really didn't. He just reached out to people because he pitied them, because they didn't have the gifts he did, and he wanted to help them be included. This social behavior continued all through elementary, where he warmed the hearts of the teachers, and made friends with a good majority of the kids at his school. And when Lukas turned twelve, he started growing taller, and his voice grew deeper. But that wasn't the only thing. During class, when his mind drifted into a thoughtless slumber, he was suddenly plunged into dreams that weren't his. He freaked out, respectively, and told his parents - who he was convinced wouldn't believe him. And next thing he knew, he was being moved out Yucca Mountain, Nevada. Lukas learned that his father had always known about Yucca Mountain. He'd considered running away to the city when he was child, simply because he'd always wanted to be accepted into society. Now, Lukas lives here with his father. His mother, although kind and gentle in her ways, refused to move to Yucca Mountain. She wasn't a mutant, so why should she have to come? Now there's a strain between Percy and Christina, although they are still married. Lukas went through high school, being himself. He's still open and amiable, and he's relaxed and sort of arrogant when it comes to life. Lukas never really committed to anything, either. He's not on the sports team, and he's not a part of any club. He doesn't excel in school, he gets distracted easily, and instead booms in the social aspects of life. He can't control his power, which makes him rather irritable and self conscious. And he's had a drinking problem since he first unlocked his dad's liquor cabinet when he was fourteen. BEHIND THE MASK ALIAS heart bby. AGE almost seventeen. c: ROLEPLAY EXPERIENCE six yurs. FOUND US char. <3 CODE WORD admin edit OTHER CHARACTERS none c: ROLEPLAY EXAMPLE delicate. harmless. was that was she was? this obscene, undiscovered beauty that lay before him? (she reminded him of pirates on a treasure hunt - always looking for the goal but never really finding it, having to bury deeper and deeper into the pits of whatever might have remained {and when those who were lucky enough to find it finally find it, are they gleeful? are they happy? or are they mourning the loss of their brothers on the trip over?} always reaching for the unfathomable and falling further and further into a despair |
but as his eyes wandered (for he could not stop them, no matter how hard he willed and no matter how hard he fought - they always seemingly found their own path to the things that the brain had reminded them subconsciously were fascinating) from the faint traces of her lips (his eyes dragged along them now rather hungrily, whether he noticed it or not {it was probably some muted desire, like that of a dog. an instinct that had been buried so deep that he had seemingly never been able to harness it - could not fathom the power that it had over him and the lust it possessed} and we would like to think that he didn't notice it, for his fragile innocence would soon be wearing thin) to the curve of her nose (it was rather beautiful, compared to most he had seen {the curve reminded him of something almost roman[/u], which intrigued his curiosity to a breaching point} but then he couldn't say that he had wandered around simply observing noses) to the deep blue of her eyes. and they were, to say the least, unbreachable. alex would like to think (as would most people) that there was a depth to his own dark irises that held the secrets of a thousand centuries, buried so deep that one couldn't help but want to discover them. but as he peered into her eyes (which he found himself doing more so than he would've expected, because who couldn't stop themselves from looking at them?) he saw the secrets of the dead. and if it could been even described with such a simple word, it intrigued him to a point of self-destruction. he was trapped in her eyes (and for a moment he wondered if sitting behind solid bars would feel as caged as the feeling that was burrowing it's way into his chest - would it be so awful to be trapped behind bars such as these?) but he didn't fight the feeling that rose. instead, he welcomed[/u] it. he wanted to pry through her (in the sense of her mind, what she thought, how she worked) and discover her secrets. he wanted to know her favorite color (something as simple as such shouldn't be hard to discover) and he wanted to know what was her deepest, darkest desire. she made him want things he couldn't understand, things he had never felt. and it was like a whole new world was being put on display, in a glass tank he couldn't quite open, but only touch.
god will not have his work made manifest by cowards. was emerson really such a genius? (alex was an incredibly large fan of emerson's work on individuality and the purpose of the human - for what was a person without deeper thoughts than that of what would be on the menu for lunch, or what twenty dollars could get me at walmart?) and as he sat down there, on the bench (the cold was seeping through his jeans and sending chills through his lanky body {which only awoke him more - made him feel more alive than he had felt in what seemed like a hundred years - how long had he been asleep?} which reminded him of his place in this seemingly endless eternity) he couldn't help but quote such a brilliant man in his mind. alex - himself - as he stared over at the girl who had introduced herself as alice (the name still sent a shiver of delight running up his spine and to his fingertips, which were clutched together as if he needed control of his body) wondered if she had made herself a coward. she had been given a life, and what had she done with it? but merely in a moment (the moment was really almost a fifth of a second, to small to even comprehend the time that had gone by {in fact, it was almost as soon as the thought had appeared that it had disappeared} and so he let it pass with no resentment or wonder) he realized that it was not the case. she was not a coward, from what little he had heard her speak and the body language which she had displayed so openly and freely (whether she was aware or not). and he knew, almost suddenly (he imagined that it was like spiritual awakening, in the sense that he was now aware of things that hadn't seemed to exist[/i] prior to the experience) that she was made to be compatible with him. he wasn't one to believe in souls (because if he did believe in souls, where would his be right now? most people imagined them as white little beings that lived inside your chest {similar to harry potter, in certain aspects} genderless and faceless - but when something bad happened to you {as if, a crime, or a wrong-doing on your part} did your soul get a little darker[/u]? tinged with the color of your sin? because if that was the case, alex's soul would be the darkest black - like the black of the night sky, with little change of a redeemable quality) but if he had too, he imagined hers had been created to be compatible with his. it was a vain hope, but what was life without hope? life without purpose? and what if his purpose was to be befriended by such a girl? (the idea was idiotic, really, but alex couldn't help how his mind happened to function, only seemingly agree with it {like a river stemming into a lake - the water couldn't escape it's fate, so why not agree rather than struggle in a hopeless battle?}).
"i don't know; we haven't met yet." her voice. her voice. it crashed like great, bellowing oceans against his eardrums, drowning him in a water he couldn't escape - a water that tangled every part of his body in it's arms. her voice reminded him to breathe (which he had forgotten to do over the course of his thoughts, as he realized he had, indeed, been holding his breath the whole time). but his words engrained - no. burned themselves into the back of his melted, pathological brain, and he had trouble remembering why he was there. but of course he had met her. maybe not in person, maybe not here, but she had met him, whether she liked it or not. and for a moment, he gathered his thoughts, and almost delicately, he selectively released them into the air. "but you have met me," he breathed, longingly, almost carefully. "you know me better than anyone." a wicked grin stitched into his lips, his dark pools peered at hers with an ache and longing he hadn't felt in years. he wanted her to like him, and his ambition would drive him to make her want him. his whole body simply ached. "are you scared?" her words were velvet this time, licking against his eardrums, as his dark pools turned to view her once again. it was his turn, this time, to be skeptical (alex had been afraid when he was younger, but of such things as the monsters that lingered under his bed. it was only when he grew older that the monsters weren't underneath his bed, they were inside his chest, screaming and writhing underneath his skin. he was the monster[/i]) as his dark orbs traced over her face with that same wonder and awe. he wanted to whisper to her, to break the sound barrier between them - slice it in half (like the sound barrier above the atmosphere, being penetrated by a rocket or a probe - something that would distract from the natural balance that had been maintained and thoroughly kept) but it felt rather out of place, so he kept his lips perfectly stitched. but he couldn't distract himself from her. she was sucking him in, rather like a black hole (when he got to her core, would he be torn apart? would she reveal him as he really was? for the whole world to see?) but he couldn't stop. "you don't seem like you are." her touch, it sent nerves pulsing all through his skin (rather like those instruments that they used to lure people back to reality in the hospital - to take them away from their dreams of a final end to their suffering - a way to take them back to whatever damnation they were serving out) and it made him look up to her, once more. and when he spoke, his voice was so soft, so delicate, he was almost worried she couldn't hear him. "never." [/quote]
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