leonidas masson [D2] - FIN
Jul 24, 2017 15:25:44 GMT -5
Post by mykie on Jul 24, 2017 15:25:44 GMT -5
LEONIDAS MASSON
EIGHTEEN
MALE
DISTRICT 2
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MALE
DISTRICT 2
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Thick, fiery hair sat atop Leo's square, angular head. Curly and unruly, the strands often needed to be tamed with gel to cooperate, though his hair decided when it wanted to obey. This thick, coarse hair also tended to sprout up elsewhere, like on the round tip of his chin and, although sparsely, on top of his upper lip. Strawberry blonde hair littered the rest of his body, growing almost invisibly (if not for the sheer thickness of it) across his arms, legs, and even his stomach.
To further his appearance as a ginger, Leo had pale skin that seemed to have never seen the light of day. Pale as the white linens he slept on, the young smithy often caught flack for the nature of his appearance. Freckles littered his skin, mainly focused in the places that often caught too much sun for long periods of time, like his nose and cheeks, his shoulders, and his back. The freckles congregated in unmapped constellations across his skin, like it was the Heavens above, waiting to be discovered.
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Tradition says that redheads are often difficult to anger, but once they reach their limit, all hell breaks loose. Such is true for Leo, though he has often been told that his anger is unnecessary or unwarranted; he's been told to hush up and be quiet ever since he was a child, causing a brooding anger to boil within, never able to be relinquished. The steam of repressed years bellowed within him, causing his stomach to turn and twist in a quiet rage, yet he keeps himself focused and cordial because Mother says that those who lash out are those first to fall.
Despite the underlying rage that Leo struggles with, the redheaded young man is rather polite. He minds his manners and speaks with respect... most of the time. Leo can find himself making snide remarks on other's behalfs, making fun of those he sees "worthy" of it. Making acquaintances is extremely simple for Leo: you act polite and smile at them, laugh at their jokes, then you say goodbye. Simple. However, making friends is another thing: differing views on subjects can cause Leo to go into an uproar, almost certainly demolishing whatever foundation there was for friendship.
His underlying distasted for the world could definitely be for the dissatisfied feeling his has for himself. Was it because he wasn't good enough? Maybe it was because he thought himself ugly? Or, maybe, it was because he was in denial about who he really was? His Mother, a widow of nearly eight years now, had only her son to further their family name, to live peacefully and happily through.
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Graced with the birthright of a luxury district, Leo has never truly had to work... but as the saying goes, "if you do something you love, you'll never work a day in your life." His family, although not the wealthiest or the most influential, were good at what they did and never wanted for anything. They were all strong, stubborn men and women who lived their lives as they wanted, without much of a care for anything else but themselves.
Born the only child to his parents, they spoiled him with whatever the child desired. He grew up with few cousins his own age and often found himself playing alone with expensive, handmade toys that his father had made for him; his favorite was a steel-poured lion's head his father had made to sell to District One on the off chance that he could create a new business selling metal pendants to be made into jewelry. The idea had failed horrendously, leaving the Masson family with a plethora of metal-poured animals.
Growing up the only child within a rather large family can be difficult. Leo was often picked on by his older family members, which fostered a resentment within the redhead. Of course, he loves his family and would protect them at all costs, he just finds himself cursing them and resisting the urge to fight them every moment he's with them.
At ten years old, the worst he could have ever imagined happened. The news of his Father's death caused his world to stop turning. He felt the wind knocked from his wind, his stomach caving in from the invisible blow. With a racing mind, he clutched to his Mother's clammy hand, whimpering. He can barely remember what they said the cause was, but it was something along the lines of an explosion? Asphyxiation? The man and woman who came to tell them the news apologized once and turned away, leaving them with the world-wrecking news, to mull it over themselves and find out what they would have to do on their own. Since that day, Mother was harder on Leo, finding everything wrong with what he did, but claimed to love him more than anything in the world. She was all he had left, and he to her... but Leo felt like he was trapped with her, like he couldn't get free.
Months after his death, Leo began work. He worked with the smiths, lugging hot metals from the furnace to the forgery, listening to the heavy hammers clang and thwap against searing metal. He worked with builders, moving heavy stones from Point A to Point B. When he grew older and stronger, he began his own work, usually small projects that didn't need to be perfect. The lion's head, which never left Leo's side as a child, was eventually placed on a thick, steel band that rests perfectly on Leo's right middle finger. The ring was forged on the second anniversary of his father's death.
Now older and stronger, Leo works with the rest of the men, whether that be building or forging. His work is nothing too extravagent, but sturdy and worth the money he makes. At least he's making his family proud...
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