Post by IKARUS RICHARDS on May 8, 2012 20:32:14 GMT -6
i can't take back the words i never said
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,3,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign, top][atrb=style] IKARUS TWENTY-SEVEN MEDICAL EXAMINER'S ASSISTANT PANSEXUAL alias/name: skye age: 22 country: usa face claim: nicolas bemberg how you found us: cait! <3 | [STYLE=width:345px; font-family:courier new; color:000000; font-size:25px; text-transform:lowercase; padding:1px; letter-spacing:2px; border-left: 10px solid #000000; border-bottom: 1px dashed #000000;]back to basics -- ♠[/style] NAME: Ikarus Adam Richards [STYLE=width:345px; font-family:courier new; color:000000; font-size:25px; text-transform:lowercase; padding:1px; letter-spacing:2px; border-left: 10px solid #000000; border-bottom: 1px dashed #000000;]personality -- ♠[/style]NICKNAMES: Rus, Ikky, Karu BIRTHDAY AND AGE: 19 September, 27 years GENDER: Male SEXUALITY: Pansexual MEMBERGROUP: Senshi Allies PERSONALITY SUMMARY: My sister often calls me ‘mister responsibility’. I won’t deny the accuracy of that nickname, I’m proud to be a responsible human being. I’ve never been into or even curious about drinking, doing drugs, or gambling. I do smoke, but not often enough to really earn the label of a habitual smoker. The one time I cheated on an exam, I confessed. I do my taxes, am almost always polite, drive the speed limit, keep my apartment neat, and recycle. I’m not much of a risk taker; I like to weigh decisions, hash out all of my options, and determine all of the consequences before acting. Athena would sometimes say it wasn’t always a good thing, though; pointing out that I put everything on myself. Other peoples problems and the like… She would tell me to take better care of myself and let other people deal with their shit. She’s probably right, but it was and is never something I think about. It’s just…my nature. I think when most people meet me for the first time they think I’m a humorless, emotionless robot. I don’t really know why, but by the time I’m comfortable enough around people to start making jokes they always seem, well, shocked. I guess I do come off a bit serious, but I don’t want to assume anything about a person’s sense of humor and then end up offending them. Maybe I’m being overly analytical, I don’t know. It’s just something I’ve noticed on several occasions. Learning has always been something I’m passionate about. People, language, science, culture, history… I love it all. I’m not much for politics, though I do try to keep up with world events and the goings on in my state and country. Most of my apartment walls are covered in bookshelves, but even that’s not enough room for the number of books I own. I’m not very good with animals and I don’t have much of a sweet tooth. I enjoy being outdoors, but hate humidity - with the exception of being at a beach. Like my mother, traveling is extremely important to me. Admittedly, I have a bit of a temper. Patience has never been an easily attainable virtue; frustration and raising my voice comes all too easily. Athena is the only person who ever knew how to calm me down, and Paul is the only person who could set me off without a word. I’ve never been violent toward another person, but sometimes it helps diffuse the situation if I can hit or break something. My greatest fear is losing my sister, emotionally or physically. I don't know what I'll do if she isn't in my life; I sure as hell won't be able to cope with the loss of our parents without her. My loyalties run deep, regardless of the bullshit people put me through. I am neither religious nor spiritual. HISTORY SUMMARY: The short of it is: I shouldn’t exist. The circumstances of my birth symbolizes everything wrong with the world. Why my mother went to term and kept me is beyond my comprehension… This all probably sounds over-dramatized, but you see, she was raped. I don’t know any of the details, and frankly I’m not sure I would ever want to. What I do know is that it was someone she knew, and, from what I’ve gathered, he was never apprehended. In fact, I’m not certain she ever filed a report, had a rape kit done, or anything… Though I mostly take after my mother’s side of the family, like all people I do share some resemblance to my “father”. Don’t get me wrong, I have no idea who the bastard is or what he looks like; but there are times when she would look at me and I could see… pain and fear etched on her face. Needless to say, my relationship with my mother had always been a difficult one. From a young age, I knew she had trouble loving me. Growing up I did everything I could think of to try and make her happy, to try to stop whatever it was that seemed to be eating her from the inside out. It wasn’t until I was about fifteen that I understood why my efforts were most often a failure. The way I came about the information of my mother’s rape was really not how any of us wanted it to come out. My step-dad butted into an argument I was having with my mom and he blurted it out. I never argued with my mom again after that, but my step-dad was another story. We just couldn't seem to get along. Never did, actually. We argued almost every time we talked, so I tried to do as little of that as possible. They met in Greece when I was about nine. My mom and I were on vacation -- it’s her favorite place in the world, and it was sort of a tradition to go there every year. She was obsessed with the ancient Greeks, hence my name (and my sister’s). Anyway, we were on vacation, and Paul was there working on a film that never ended up being very popular. It was sort of a love-at-first-sight kind of thing. They got married after six months, then some months after that my sister Athena was born. I think that was the happiest we’ve ever been together. I was only ten, but I knew instantly what a wonderful person she would be and how important she would be to me. Despite our age difference, I loved spending time with my little sister. It was the first time I had ever really experienced unconditional love, and I think she really helped me to realize that I could never force our mother to feel a certain way. And in some ways, it was almost enough just to have my sister love me. It was pretty hard on us both by the time I went away for college, but we made good on our promises to talk to each other as much as possible. From the time I was about seventeen, Paul and I were constantly at each other’s throats. My mom almost never sided with me and I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed out of that toxic environment, needed to see the world and nurture my passion for learning. I left Oregon for Tennessee and began studying anthropology for my bachelor’s degree, ultimately taking an unofficial focus in forensics. My maternal grandfather paid for my college, allowed for several study abroad programs, and has helped me get amazing internships. I barely spoke to either of my parents during that time, mostly passing messages on through Athena; though they’d never admit it, I’m pretty sure they were happier that way. I left Oregon for Tennessee and studied anthropology for my bachelor’s degree, then focused on forensic anthro for my master’s. My maternal grandfather paid for my college, several study abroad programs, and helped me get amazing internships. I barely spoke to either of my parents during this time, mostly passing messages on through Athena; though they’d never admit it, I’m pretty sure they were happier that way. So after my college adventures, I moved back to the west coast and got an apartment near my parents’ house. My degrees and experience landed me a job with the county’s medical examiner’s office. Not the most glamorous, but it certainly doesn’t get boring. A year later, it was my sister’s turn to leave for college. She went to New York to pursue her art. She was truly talented; even her toddler scribbling and finger-paintings were pretty impressive. Two and half months after getting to New York I stopped hearing from her. Two weeks more and I received a call. Athena was dead. Someone would need to come confirm the identification, and claim the body. After I hung up, I hopped the next flight to New York and called my mom from the airport. In retrospect, I probably should have told them face-to-face, but I wanted to be the one to see to her and her things… So here I am. A couple of days after I arrived in New York I experienced some sort of... attack, I guess is the best name for it. I was attacked. Not mugged, but attacked. I wish I could explain it, I'm not even sure I fully believed what happened... Or what happened afterward. I've started to remember things. Things that didn't make sense. Like a, a "past life" or something crazy like that. Nothing particularly coherent, just fragments. Feelings. The strangest part is, I have this almost obsessive need to find something. I can see it when I close my eyes and feel when I'm getting close... What have I become? |
