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•O° [Leander-The Puppeteer] °O•
"You'll move to a dance you never even knew you knew."
[•O°]The Picture on the Outside[°O•]
- - »Say it like you mean it;; Leander Markus Dubrovskiy
- - »How they know me on the streets;; Lee; The Puppet Master; The Puppeteer; Toy-Man.
- - »Maybe I've seen to many sunrises;; I'll give you 21 (twenty-one) guesses.
- - »I promised them my life;; Freak Show
- - »Doctor, doctor!;; Chrome. 46; XY
- - »My heart for the taking;; Unsure/ Not decided
[•O°]What stares back in the Mirror[°O•]
- - »Reaching for the stars;; 6'2" (188cm)
- - »Makes me fall way to fast;; 175 lbs. (79.54Kg)
- - »Pull it tight, so it can hurt;; White/Silverish
- - »They make me think I'm crazy;; Deep Turquoise
- - »Look at me and laugh, everyone else does;;
He's lean, he's mean, he's a fighting machine. No, really, he's practically more machine than he is human any longer. So much so to which he can hardly be classified as human at this point, which would explain his distant tendencies. He lives with more artifical replacements than what can be percieved with one's eye. Leander does very well at hiding what he does not wish to be seen, and he likes to keep it that way. With his right arm, left leg, and left eye all pieces of his cyboric self, it is no wonder why he keeps things "hush-hush".
Leander no longer has many of his own major organs, his innards are a jumble of metal, plastic, flesh and blood. A morbid image for most, but beauty for others; others being the doctors who implanted these things inside him. One would not expect this sort of thing from the appearence of his body, or at least what he allows to see of it. As long as his surgeries were drawn out there was surprisingly minimal scaring. A small scar traces from the top of his bellybutton to his sternum, faint and unless one is searching for it, not really all that noticable. Behind his left ear is another scar, tiny and yet more noticable than the one stretching allong his torso.
Yet another scar lies underneath his plated eyepatch, covering the place where his left eye should have been cradled within his skull. A scar from brow to tear duct, it is, with, not a hole, but silverplated sphere with a shiny red center. The center, a red lit circle in the center of the silver sphere, sits in place of his lost eye. It works just as well as his natural eye, perhaps at even a higher level than that of his mortal one. But still he hides his eye, conceals it with the eyepatch he is never seen without.
As Leander conceals his eye, he also keeps his other, more apparent replacements hidden as well. As his right arm is no longer his own it is not merely hidden by the gloves he so conveniently wares, but the shoulder region is covered by a fake skin. Organic in its making, this skin looks and feels like skin should look and feel. Though it does not extend to cover his entire arm, he is content with hiding his abnorality with the arm gloves he very rarely removes from either arm.
For as few know of his false arm there even less, not even half that number, that know of his artificial leg. Though this is easier to hide, much like his eye, he is usually not seen without long pants on. The organic skin on his shoulder was all the doctors would budge to provide him with, so his leg went untouched but such science. This, however, was not to say that he had not had his foot and ankle graphed as his shoulder had been. Leander is not always seen with shoes on, and when he is it is a standard black combat boot with silver accents.
Leander himself is not at all an unattrative man, to say the least. A mess of edgy white, shoulder length hair is a statement to his youth; or perhaps mockery of age. Smooth, shiny, softy and almost fluid in motion, this head of hair is simply that and much more. Catching light in odd ways, causing depth where it is not, and shallowness where it ought not to be. A constant sea of stroms and as graceful as his eyes are bold. With feirce blue and green hues swirled together, this man's eyes are daunting if not stunning or intricate. Deep turquoise in hue, they are alluring as they are fearsome; qualities that befit the idea of falling into one's eyes.
Both ears are pierced a total of three times: one in the upper middle cartilage, one in the side cartilage, and one in the ear lobe. He usually wares these ear rings, though he has been known, on occasion, to take the linking chain from them. This is espically done before he fights, though not always; dependant on how confidant he is in a battle if they are sported or not. The same goes for thoes chains around his neck and arms, light weight as they are he will remove them only in a fight.
Speaking of battles, of fighting and dispute, Leander wares a sword at his hip at all times. A long sword, sharp and sleek, quick and quiet. The sword's hilt is wrapped tightly in black leather material, the end of this hilt is marked by a skull. One visable eye with a patch on the remaining, as well as an open grining mouth. The patch of the sword's hilt skull is the opposite of that on Leander himself.
Leander, like his fellow Freaks, sports a tattoo on the back of his neck of a star and moon hanging together. As he carries the mark of a freak, so he sounds like one as well. The bells are on his hip, laced though the belt loop of his pants at his right pelvic bone.
[•O°]Story told on Pages, sorry I Ripped some out[°O•]
- - »Makes my feet curl up tight;;
•Warmth_=_ For he rarely feels its embrace against his own skin.
•The Dance_=_ The dance is what Leander calls swordplay, in his case fighting; he enjoys this deadly dance.
•Chess_=_ He likes a good game of witts, Chess is just the easiest way to come by it.
•Toying with people_=_ He likes to play with other's minds, toy with them, mess with them.
•Soft (or fuzzy) items_=_ These are the feelings that keep him sane; keep him alive.
•Honey_=_In a world of putrid bitterness, you need a little something sweet now and again.
- - »The shadows in the corner;;
•Ignorance/Stupidity_=_ "I don't care what you are doing, but the idiotic way you are doing it." Would be a good quote for Leander as well, idiots irritate him to no end. Don't be ignorant or he'll be sure to put you in your place.
•Children_=_ They only get in the way, and they always seem to sprout up in the last place you need them; or want for that matter.
•Robotics_=_ He cannot stand what he has become.
•Greed_=_ Power hungry does not enlighten anyone.
•Authority_=_ He's a free spirit, he doesn't like to be told what to do or how to do it.
•Vibrant Hues_=_They hurt his eyes.
- - »This mask we all wear;;
What is there to say about Leander save that he is a loner by nature? He keeps to himself on his own accord, the same as he tends to live his life. Over the years he has allowed very few people very little knowldge about himself. This is something he intends to keep a habit, too. He doesn't like his personal infromation to be leaked to ears that he would rather not hear. He would rather watch, listen and learn of other's tendencies and helpful habits than to tell of his own. Suttle and very calm natured, for the most part, Leander is a quiet individual whom keeps to himself mainly, unless approached.
Leander may have a clam nature about him, but on the battle field, or in his so called "Dance", he is ruthless. Quick on his feet as he his quick witted, his mind moves as fast as his more than half cyborg body. Tactful, he is proud to say that he has never lost a fight. Though, when reminded of his robotic parts, he becomes cross with himself. Under the calm exterior lies a violent storm, just waitting to be unleased.
He may seem serious to thoes who do not know him well enough, but Leander has a humorous side. A sort of "punk" side, one might say. Once you dig deep enough you may find that he has a very rebelious attitude towards many things. Although he does not seek out attention or companionship, he does not shy away from it when it is presented to him. He does not like to be rude, though if you are not in his good favor you may find yourself sitting by youself, unaware he has moved much less out of sight by the time he is gone.
Leander holds his morals and honor strong and dear. Things such as never fighting an unarmed man, or deathly injuring a woman if he can avoid it. He does not care to fight in the shadows, though he would rather fight face to face and steel against steel. He is not ignorant, infact, he is very intelectual; and often uses it over others.
- - »Promise not to tell anyone else;;
Just as he keeps physical information from thoes around him, his lifestory is kept even more silent. But that is the choice of this young man, and for good reason. His past isn't the worst, nor is it the best. There are so many inbetweens that it is hard to tell exactly how you actually have it. Personally Leander was not fond of his childhood memories, the reminded him of what he once had...and what he would never have again. Depressing thoughts that were dull and numb by this point in his life. All but forgotten they lay in the depths of his mind, tucked away for his own safty more than anything else.
When Leander was younger he had the life of a wealthy and endowed child. He was brilliant, he was humorous, he had everything he could ever dream of wanting, or needing for that matter. That was until it was taken away from him. Leander had been what many had called "kidnapped" then, or abducted. The man that had taken him wanted many things, many things that the young lad had been told over the years. The man was clearly mental, in some form or way, and he beat little Leander often. Once he beat him so hard and long that he nearly died. That was when his long surgeries began. The man continued to beat him, though this was not the only thing the older male did to this little boy. What one feared, is what this older male did. He used Leander for realief himself, and the beatings were only a side affect of a sexual pleasure.
Not all was horrible, though not as well mannered as it should have been. The man, whom Leander had come to call "master", taught him many things; many useful things. Swordplay was one that he excelled at, one of the many things he had been taught relentlessly, though with the least mistakes and punishment for them. Cruel and unusual did not begin to describe what hell this sick man put the young child though, for many years. His stealth, his witt, his thought process, his strength, his dexterity...it had all been taught to him, as much as it was naturally there. Leander could not say that this man did not make he what he was today, that he did not teach him everything he needed to know to combat the cruel world; but it did not mean that he did not resent the man in some fashion.
He escaped the clutches of this mad man by out smarting his "master". The man thought himself tricksome and sly, but his pupil surpassed his greatest expectations. The term "escape" is a light term for the actual proceedings of the event of his freedom. Years of physical and mental torture did not drive him to hate the being he served. Served, but did not obey. A logical choice was made on that single thought, and so Leander served his master in deliverance. A deliverance that would assure that the man would not cause missery or dispair any longer. Murder was a strong word, a strong word indeed. Released, that was prettier, wasn't it? So he released his Master, served him that final time the best way he possibly could, and plucked him away from the dispaire and missery of the world.
- - »This sound that follows me, only in my head;; Move By Thousand Foot Krutch.
- - »All the rest to tight it up;; [Anything else you want to add. Pets, companions, special abilities or powers. Something you forgot or want to add]
The covered mechanical, cyborg or robotic, eye that replaces his long empty left eye socket, as the ability to disrupt a person's perception. Magical you say? Never; We're scientific, there's an explination for everything now a days! The eye gloes red when its silver plated shield, known as Leander's eyepatch, is removed. When the eye is released from its imprisonment it distrubs the person's ability of realitivity and location. In essence the eye makes it extreamly difficult to find one's own barings. Whether it be the seeming movement of the room around them, the feeling of floating, or the false perception of speed and location of objects around them. Need simple, dummed down explination, eh? Merely think of the eye as a drug, and it's aimed at your brain. Your brain's processes are slowed down, altered by the pitch--sound, noise--that is emmited from the robotic implant in his skull.
This little gizmo was a gift from his late master, as much as an experiment on his doctors' parts. It is what allows him to "toy" with others during battle, and he uses it rarely.
- - »Just a puppet to a child;; lollipop-heart-stab
POST APP.
Because the spirit needs freedom....You Are Just A Puppet On My Strings......Not A Man Of Salvation.
 ...I will aid to her call.
 lollipop-heart-stab · Thu Jun 05, 2008 @ 09:49am · 0 Comments |
