Damien Costas || 19 || Male
This is a ruthless world and one must
be ruthless to cope with it.--
Charlie Chaplin
So clever,
Whatever,
I'm done with these endeavors.
Alone I walk the winding way.
(Here I stay)
It's over,
No longer,
I feel it growing stronger.
I'll live to die another day,
Until I fade away.
Why give up, why give in?
It's not enough, it never is.
So I will go on until the end.
We've become desolate.
It's not enough, it never is.
But I will go on until the end.
Breaking Benjamin--Until the End
Height: a towering 6 feet 4 inches
Weight: 187 pounds, all of it dense packed muscle and bone.
Eyes: Very dark brown, almost black around the outer edges, but as you near the pupil gold flecking lightens to sometimes give them a warmer glow, but most of the time it just lends to a fierce glower.
Skin tone: Light for the most part due to his Russian father, but thanks to his Greek mother he does not look pale, and if exposed to the summer sun he will form a bit of a tan before he will burn.
Hair: A glossy black that will reflect almost blue in the right lighting. It is always messily swept back from his face, his hand constantly reaching to push strands back out of the way. He keeps the top at a length most people would consider bordering on too long, while the sides are cut shorter to prevent it from laying on his neck and ears, something he cannot stand.With an intimidating silhouette Damien can bluff his way out of many bar fights, but when the bluff fails he has the features to back it up, working very hard to keep his form. He is not a man whose muscles come easily, he has to work for them and even so he still remains lean for the most part, his shoulders being the most muscled out of anything. He relies on the long reach of his arms, his stamina and his ability to take a punch, resulting in several broken noses. The expression he most often wears is annoyed neutrality, but when he does choose to express himself his eyebrows do a very good job of conveying what he is thinking, whether he is staring you down with hate or wondering if you are worth his time. He keeps a light shadow of stubble on his face but never grows it to anything you could call a beard, and his lips, when not curled around a cigarette, are often pulled down at the corners in the hint of a frown. He has no body modifications, but he has plenty of scars, each with a story, and he wears them like a badge. He has several on his torso, back and arms, and one particularly large one on his left thigh.
perѕoɴαlιтy:
Cold and aloof is what he most often hears himself described as, and he thinks that is just fine. The fewer people who try to approach and get to know him the better, he functions best as a loner, and he likes it that way. Upon meeting new people he is quiet and calculating, watching them to file away every little detail of their personality for later use. Their fears, their hopes, and their weaknesses are his particular interests, and once he has you in his memory banks, he will not hesitate to use and manipulate you for his own purposes if he finds a reason. He doesn’t care who he has to step on to reach where he is going, and once he’s there he digs in his heels and does anything he has to to keep his position. He has brawled, fought, and clawed his way to the top of many situations, and is not afraid to get his hands dirty.
There are three types of people in Damien’s eyes, the useful, the useless, and family, though the last has a bit of a unique definition. The people he deems useful are the people he files away, the ones he sees potential in and the ones he thinks he can use. The useless are the weak small people he doesn’t deal with because they are exactly that, weak. And those he considers family are off limits. He tries his best to keep them out of his wrong doings, and watches over them like a shadow. A mere blood relation is not enough to keep you safe from Damien, but there are a select few who are considered family even in the absence of blood. He has to find them worthwhile, someone he admires, and someone he can trust. Not many people fall into this category, he can count them all on his fingers and still have some to spare.
Sarcasm and brutal honesty flow freely from his lips, and if he offends someone well that’s just a bonus. But he is not completely unpolished. When he wants something that requires him to be a bit less rough and a lot more charming he can flick the switch and make himself into a very likable fellow. He has learned over the years that there are some things easier obtained through charm, and he has become very good at painting that mask, a mask he has found also useful when it comes to women.
While his boundaries are spare and his morals downright rare he does have them. Children, for one, are off limits, and women, while not above harsh words and threats are never struck. Killing is avoided when at all possible but let’s faces it, casualties are to be expected, and drugs and drinking are kept to a minimum. He hates the cloudy murky effect they have on his mind; he prefers to be alert and ready at all times. Cigarettes are his only major vice. Loyalty runs to his core, though it’s earning his loyalty that is the hard part, and when betrayed by someone he truly trusts it cuts him to the core.
нιѕтory:
How Damien came about is a somewhat interesting story in its self. His mother was a daughter of Greek immigrants who came to America when she was only five years old, growing to become an artist in New York City. She loved to travel, and while on a trip to Moscow Russia, she met up with Damien’s father, leaving him without a thought when she went back to New York the next morning. It was about a month later that she realized she had taken some of the country with her…
So obviously growing up Damien did not know his father, after all Russia was a large country and without a name or even photograph there wasn’t a hope of finding him. There were male influences in his early life, thought all of them were fleeting and never permanent, and none of them knew what to do with the dark eyed Damien. His mother looked after him well enough, made sure he was fed and clothed, but she herself didn’t know what to do with him either, so he always ended up being a background noise, there but not in the foreground. He became distant and independent at a very young age, and was often dumped off at his grandparent’s house on nights his mother went out. He hated staying there, he couldn’t understand what they were saying and they were always asking questions, and around the age of ten he started slipping away out the window almost as soon as his mother was out of sight. He grew to hate his mother and grandparents, but his baby sister, Olivia, is someone he would die for. She is nearly ten years younger than him, and is one of the only people he calls family.
He had natural street smarts, and as he got older his reputation grew from the kid who trailed the older kids to a guy you didn’t mess around with. He was kicked out of every high school he attended for fighting and attendance, and at age sixteen he committed grand theft auto, at seventeen possession of narcotics with intent to sell, and assault with a deadly weapon. He was in and out of the court systems, appeared in juvie a few times, and was ordered countless hours of community service for a laundry list of misdemeanors. When he turned eighteen he was taken in for assault and attempted murder and had almost been sent to prison, but was noticed by the administrators of Vandyke. He was given a choice, prison or the institution, where he would be monitored and watched carefully, always on the edge of being slapped in cuffs and hauled away. Damien isn’t stupid, he saw the benefits of a place like Vandyke, and found it leaps and bounds better than sitting in a cell. He has been here a year now, his favorite and best classes being marksmanship and hand to hand combat.
((Finished. Let me know if you would like me to change anything. ))
