Post by zaach on Mar 7, 2010 3:27:57 GMT -7
† Lukasz - Jakoby - Cook †
†Luka†
[/center]† General Information †
Full Name: Lukasz Jakoby Cook.
Nicknames: Luka or Luk.
Gender: Male.
Race: Human.
Age: Twenty three.
Occupation: Freelance Artist/Photographer.
Orientation: Heterosexual.
Health Problems: Diabetes.
† Personality †
Basic Personality:
"Okay, listen up, Fred; encase you hadn't already noticed I don't much like talking to people who look like a seagull has had a shit on their face, been run over by a horse and carriage and then dragged through a hedge backwards, right. When it comes to people telling me what to do and slash or how to do it, I'd rather they didn't to be perfectly honest with you, however; if it is necessary then I don't mind taking the orders. I have problems as you must have already guessed by the way I'm speaking to you, but there are some that you wouldn't even begin to comprehende in you little pea brain mind. As a twenty year old you would probably expect me to be stupid, crazy and out of my head; constantly drunk, stoned and whatnot - unable to understand the adult mind and the world outside of 'school', right? Well that is where you a completely wrong; I understand a hell of lot, even things that you wouldn't know about because in my 'eighteen' years of existance I have come to know that certain things are not always what they seem. People call me 'intelligent beyond his age'; and I kind of have to agree with them there - what you see now, right here in this room, is not all of who and what I am. My IQ is above normal for a person my age and even higher than a fifty-six year old's should be. At the age of five I was considered a genuis and by the time I turned sixteen years old my IQ was double the average. If you really want to know the number; it's one six four, now shut your trap and listen to what else I have to say.
I'm a bit of a fighter... well, no; that was more than a tiny bit of an understatement - I am a fighter, it's what I do. Verbal, physical or emotional, every fight I win just ups my game and adds ten points onto my confidence. I'll admit that I get a little more than 'slightly cocky' when I'm around people that I dislike - provoking them to the points where physical fights ensue and making sure that I get the upper hand before it gets out of hand... which is more than often. I have this awful tendancy of becoming out of control, going too deep with the things I do and the things I say. Call me conceited if you wish too; but I like to win and I can't stand losing. I'll tell you that if there's a fair fight to be had; I'm turning the other way - being fair in fighting is not my strongest point and I hate to disagree with you, but fair fights aren't good for showing people what life is like. Seriously though pal; if you look at me and don't believe that I can fight then you are very much mistaken and you obviously never listened to your Grandmother when she told you that you should 'never judge a book by it's cover' - brilliant that is, genius. Anyway, yes, I may look small, but that's only what you want to see, I'm far from being fragile and weak. I'm a lot stronger than I look and I can assure you of that, sir.
Oh; I think I'll take a shot at confusing you as much as I possibly can. As you are well aware of; I don't really like taking orders but I will do so if it is absolutely necessary, intelligent beyond my years, a fighter and slightly conceited, you should also know that I can be an antagonist. Provoking, daring, dangerous, easily angered, not to be messed with - the usual. I have a knack with sarcasm and confusing people to the point where they get angry with themselves and slash or me; which is always fun, believe me! What else? Oh, yes! I'm proving to be an adrenaline junkie! Fun, right?! I just love the feel of the wind in my hair, the thrill of the chase, the burning of my throat constricting and gasping for air, the thumping of my heart as the speed gets faster. Now I give up; I've had enough of explaining what I'm like to you so change the subject."
Likes:
† Order.
† Organised Chaos.
† Cleaning.
† Cooking.
† Collecting stuff.
† Making people laugh.
† Shoes.
† Shirts.
† Shopping.
† Being oblivious.
Hates:
† Mess.
† Being disturbed.
† Coffee.
† Little kids.
† Dogs.
† People taking this stuff and not putting back in the right place.
† The weekends.
† The ocean.
† The nightmares.
† Chocolate.
Talents:
† Artistic.
† Musically gifted in the piano area.
† Photography.
† Amateur magic tricks.
†
Habits:
† Bites his fingernails.
† Chews on the end of his pen/pencil.
† Eats one thing on his plate at a time
† Throws glitter around.
† Talks to himself.
† Appearance †
Skin Color: White.
Hair Color: Brown.
Eye Color: Brown.
Build: Tall and slender.
Piercings/Scars/Tattoos: None at all.
Choice of Clothing: Shirts and jeans.
Other: He likes hats.
† History †
History:
Well honestly, if you must know the life and times of Mister Lukasz Jakoby Cook, all you had to do was ask. He was born to a couple of weird parents who were completely devoted to strange, random and 'exciting' things. The weird and wonderful, eh? True, completely true. His parents had the weirdest names ever, and he and his brother, also had the weirdest names ever - so says Lukasz anyway; his brother was called Casey. Okay, so maybe Lukasz didn't think that 'Casey' was as weird as 'Lukasz' but that doesn't matter, right? Anyways, he was born and brought up in Paris - that's in France, encase you didn't know, haha, sorry. His father's name was 'Neptune' and he drank like a fish. No, honestly; he did. He was an alcoholic, but not one of those abusive alcoholics, just one of those ones that goes into a stupor and passes out before hitting the deck, so to speak. His brother, 'Casey', his mother 'Agnes', and himself had to take care of him. Apparently he had some sort of illness and was always depressed; it was kind of scary for the two young boys.
Growing up in Paris really wasn't all that it was supposed to be cracked up to be. People were making fun of their names left, right and center, and they dreaded going to school, but somehow dealt with it all. I emphasize on 'somehow'. As Lukasz and his brother grew up, they learned the powerful magnetism of music and picked up on the English language equally as easy, but not really. They are pretty good at speaking English if I do say so myself, but times changed quickly and it all started to go downhill. Very quickly, and it wasn't even that long before their parents announced that they would be moving from Paris to London, England. Being only fourteen at the time, Lukasz didn't think that it was that much of a big deal, however it was for Casey - who was sixteen at the time and just getting to his exams.Their promised his transfer school would take care of that. Five days later the Cook family were unpacking their stuff in a new house, in London. It was fun and sure as hell going to be an adventure. Lukasz had started to love it already.
Lukasz started school and then everything went downhill; again. His father drunk himself into a stupor that he didn't wake up from, and then Casey went and got himself arrested and jailed for drink driving whilst under the influence of, not only alcohol, but also drugs - or more precisely, meth. Agnes went spare, she kicked him out of the house and started to invite 'guests' over. In the end it all got a bit too much for Lukasz to handle. He gritted his teeth and bore with it for the last few months of his 'seventeenness', once he was eighteen, he left home and found himself an apartment which he used up all the money he'd ever saved on. His father was dead, his brother was still in jail, his mother was a prostitute and Lukasz? Well, Lukas never stopped believing; he found himself a girlfriend who he's been contently screwing for the past three years. He also started up a little freelancing career with his artistic and photographer skills. Sometimes he also likes to run around the parks and put on amateur magic shows for all the little kids.
Mother/Father: Agnes & Neptune Cook.
Siblings: Casey Cook.
Offspring: None.
Other: Zuleika, girlfriend.
† RP example †
Denial, denial, denial. Utter denial!
A defence mechanism, that’s all it was. Jared was so unbelievably in denial. Here, Dallas had presented him with a fact that is apparently, too uncomfortable for him to accept, so he decides to reject the implications instead and throw everything that the two of the ever had out of the window because he was in denial about ever loving Dallas. And Dallas didn’t understand, or didn’t want to understand. Either way he loved Jared and always would. That was a certified fact to be sure.
Dallas loved the boy in front of him, more than anyone would be able to understand. Sure it was a fickle word for some people, but Dallas genuinely believed in the word love and always would. Even if it was just any number of emotions related to a strong sense of affection and attachment – it was clear that Jared was afraid of being attached to him, there was enough evidence to support this. The word ‘love’ just refers to a variety of different feelings, states and attitudes. Why didn’t Jared see this?! Why did Dallas have to explain everything to him. He was so attached to Jared that it corrupted his mind, he didn’t understand why the younger boy had to be like this after all that he’d done for him.
Truth be told it scared Dallas.
Then again, everything that he’d said about loving Jared could have been generic – in the sense of ‘I love your eyes’ (and he did love his eyes. He loved the way they held so much of him inside of them; the color and the intensity), or was it the profound version; intense interpersonal attraction – in a sense of ‘I love you’ (saying a wife to her husband, or in this case, a boyfriend to his boyfriend).
Either way it was such a diverse word. It had many uses and many meanings with complex feelings; it was so unusually difficult to define, especially compared to all the other emotional states. And especially for a pair of teenagers, one ‘knowing’ what love is and the other drawing a blank and refusing to accept the knowledge that he was incredibly and irreversibly in love with the other.
What about this so-called ‘divine intervention’ that Dallas had been talking about earlier? That wasn’t anything special; just a fancy word for saying ‘miracle’. Was it really a miracle that Jared had turned up in the streets, at two thirty in the morning and just happened to come across Dallas? Well, Dallas thought so, but then he also thought long and hard about that fact. Maybe it hadn’t been divine intervention, maybe it had just been a coincidence. Yeah.... that sounded like a better word to use.
Coincidence.
An alignment of two or more events or circumstances without obvious casual connection. Oh, because neither of them had realised that the other would be out this early in the morning – or this late at night. It wasn’t like Dallas had actually planned this. He’d been awake for the better part of three days. Drinking. Always drinking. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions. This coincidence, it wasn’t purposeful, it was almost a probability; but that was just a tool in the works.
Dallas would give up everything for Jared. Everything.
He was so deeply hurt that it was showing physically. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was sinking into the dark depths of unholy depression. The state of low mood and aversion to activity – bar the consumption of alcohol whenever he could get his hands on it. He was either ‘depressed’ or he was ‘sad’, either way it was non-clinical and some might even say that it referred to a conglomeration of more than one feeling.
Dallas was almost always irritable, he felt empty and anxious, often paranoid about the doors when they opened and closed, half expecting Jared to walk in and sweep him off of his feet. His sleeping pattern had never really been that good to begin with, but now it was completely fucked. Food seemed a distant treat to him. He hardly had any energy left to deal with his school work and as a result his grades were fluctuating immensely. His concentration levels had also fluctuated and once or twice the idea of throwing himself off of a bridge was a little more than simply ‘enticing’.
He had liked the way he’d felt whenever Jared had been around. He liked the way the boy made his skin tingle when they touched, the way his eyes sparkled when they kissed and the interpersonal relationship both had shared with such intensity and such passion that there were no words to describe. Dallas missed that. He missed all of it. He missed the cuddles they shared, the falling asleep in each other’s arms whilst watching movies late at night and most importantly?
Dallas missed Jared.
He wanted him, needed him even. Dallas felt as though a part of him was missing now. He couldn’t explain anything to Spencer, he had no words. Every day someone would come up to him and ask him if he was okay. A weak nod. That was all he could manage before asking to be excused from the classroom and fleeing to his dorm. Breaking down into a fit of tears. It sounded silly, but it was the truth. He missed Jared so much that it wasn’t even funny. And to have him here now, standing in front of him and not moving away? That meant the world and the stars to Dallas, even if Jared was being cold about it. What he wouldn’t give to hold him one more time. He just needed to get over himself.
But he couldn’t. Dallas was turning into an alcoholic and it was all over some boy. Imagine that? A sixteen year old alcoholic who couldn’t get over himself and face the facts. Over a boy, and one that was younger than him to boot! It was absolutely ridiculous. Or it would sound absolutely ridiculous to someone that knew his predicament.
Dallas heard the growl that emitted from Jared’s voice and he narrowed his eyes, but his expression remained soft and caring. He watched as he pressed his palms against his face and refused to look at him. Dallas didn’t move his gaze, he just continued to watch Jared, waiting to see what he was going to do before making any rash and snap decisions.
The words from Jared’s mouth hit him like a ton of house bricks. Dallas forced himself to remain calm and to not cry. If he didn’t care so much then why was he still in the middle of the street talking to him? He refused to believe Jared. He wanted to show him that he did care and that he should care, but maybe that was just impossible. Maybe Jared was too far in denial that he’d convinced himself that Dallas just wasn’t the person meant for him. But it was so clear, as clear as the stars in the night sky, that that wasn’t true. Dallas was the right person for Jared, why didn’t he see it?
”What if I don’t want to find anyone else?” He asked after keeping silent for an eternity, or maybe it was just two minutes. ”What if I don’t want to find anyone else because I’m in love with you, and you have your head shoved so far up your ass that you just can’t see that we’re simply meant to be?” Dallas tried to remain cool, the tears were forming at the corners of his eyes, but he wasn’t going to cry.
Why? Why cry over Jared? It was like crying over spilt milk...
† Let's talk about you †
Name: ZAACH.
Other Characters: None.
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