Emmy
☽ 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝓎 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹 ☾
Arrow on the second page and favorites section on the third scroll sideways.
Luke
REQUISITE
FULL NAME:Lukas Elliot Easton
AGE:twenty-two (but actually ninety-four)
GENDER:male
SEXUALITY:heterosexual
OCCUPATION:dilated pupils towards the teller at any bank gives him all he needs.
ETHNICITY:caucasian
BIRTH/DEATHDATEoct 21st, 1927 - dec 26th, 1949
APPEARANCE
what's the worst that could happen? i'm already dead
HEIGHT:
6'2"
WEIGHT:
180 lbs
eye color:
hazel with gold flecks
hair color:
dark brown, almost black
body mods:
he's got some traditional american rose tattoos on his left bicep. an old silver antique ring with a rich red ruby centered might as well be a part of his body.
body type:
slender with toned muscle mass
PERSONALITY
favorite food:
risotto
favorite drink
dark rum
favorite color
red
favorite artist
frank sinatra
favorite book
1984 by george orwell
favorite film
the outsiders
VIRTUES
• loyalty • orderliness
• confidence • cleanliness
• commitment • courage
VICES
• anger • arrogance
• impatience • recklessness
• wrath • jealousy
HISTORY
early life
Lukas was born not long before The Great Depression hit the nation, devastating a lot of families and businesses. Unfortunately, this did not exclude Lukas' family. His parents were just as loving as they were poor and so, they tried their best to make the best of every situation for their only child's sake. By a miracle, his parent's bakery business survived the hardship. He grew up playing with little toy figures while his father baked bread in their shop. As he grew older, he took on more and more responsibility within the business. When he was ten years old he rode his bicycle to deliver the freshly baked bread in an old and worn basket, later he would become a baker right alongside his father. The plan was for Lukas to take over the family business someday. Sadly, that would not be the case.
Throughout his life, he was a good kid. He was highly dependable and a hard worker. He had to be in such a time. He was sweet on one girl in his town from the time he was fifteen up until his death. He enjoyed music far too much, often being told he was wasting time by sneaking into bars just to catch performances from artists like Frank Sinatra, Glenn Miller, and Bing Crosby.
his death
It was the day after Christmas in the year of 1949 when his life as he knew it ended. He had been sent out by his mother to grab a few necessities; bread, eggs, and things of the like. He drove his father's red 1949 Ford Lincoln through the snow and sleet as the sun was beginning to set, stopping briefly to sneak a kiss from his girlfriend through her bedroom window on the way.
By the time he had picked up everything on his mother's grocery list, the sun had set and the sky was dark. He made it about halfway to his car when he was grabbed, brown paper bags falling from his arms and eggs cracking on the pavement. He blinked once and suddenly he was not in the parking lot of the store any longer but in the woods behind the establishment. He swears he never got a good look at the man- No, the monster that took him. He was faster than what the human eye could comprehend, stronger than a bear, yet he was incredibly graceful with every movement. Lukas' shrieks rang out into the frosty air, though no one heard. Bite marks littered his body; his neck, his shoulder, his arms. Bloodied and dizzy from the blood loss, he laid on the stained snow beneath him and pleaded for death. Anything would be better than slowly dying in the woods, he was sure of it.
The creature laughed, cold and cruel. He said he'd never had a meal plead for death in all his years. Just from spite alone, the man told him he was giving him a gift far greater than death instead. He forcefully fed Lukas his blood, slicing his own wrist with an old pocket knife and holding the wound to the young man's lips. At first, Lukas protested as best he could, but the more he consumed, the more he realized he didn't feel death's grips tightening on him. He began to drink with fever through thickening confusion. Eventually, the man pulled his arm away with a growing smirk, his hat hiding his eyes that Lukas could only imagine were as black as night.
Just as a very dumbfounded Lukas had pushed himself up from the snow and attempted to turn to look at this strange man, his neck was snapped and he was right back where he had just climbed up from. Only, this time he was dead before his body hit the cold ground.
He woke up alone, though he wasn't cold as he should have been- he was burning up as if he had the worst fever known to man. A strange silver ring had been slipped onto his finger, but he could barely see it as his eyes squinted against the sun that hung high in the sky. His teeth ached with such severity that he was positive it was giving him a deathly migraine. He was starving, so he wasted little time in stumbling out of the line of trees and back onto the grocery store's property. Finding his keys amongst the broken eggshells from the night prior, he drove home to his worried parents.
He ate everything he could get his hands on, screaming at his mother to shut her mouth as he raided the fridge and pantry for everything it was worth. Nothing satisfied him. His hunger only grew. He was in pain and he didn't understand why he swore he could hear the very blood flowing through his mother and father as they stood at the doorway, fear, and concern etched into their faces. Then he looked at them, black eyes that were once hazel settling on his mother's neck as he breathed in the sweetest scent he had ever smelled. It was blood that he craved, his whole body screaming at him to obtain it at all costs.
It didn't take long for this new animistic and predatory nature to completely take over any thought process he had. In seconds, moving just as fast as the man that had done such a thing to him, he was sinking his aching fangs into his mother's neck as his father screamed and cried. He drained that woman for every ounce of blood she had and then did the same to his father. He didn't have time to sulk in the aftermath of his actions, he knew he had to flee and leave behind the woman he loved.
present life
After killing his family, he went on to kill more people than he could count all over not only the United States, but neighboring countries as well. It wasn't that he didn't try not to, he was simply out of control of his own actions and that hunger that always returned. He found he not only had inhuman speed, but strength, immortality, and the ability to manipulate the mind of any human he came into contact with. He had all the money he could ever want due to such power, never again having to work another day for the rest of his life. He lived ruthlessly, leaving behind his old life. He wasn't a poor young man, he wasn't a World War II veteran, he wasn't a man loved by the sweetest woman to walk the earth- He was an impulsive vampire.
When his old lover turned 65, dying in a hospital bed of Leukemia and dementia infesting her mind, he returned to his hometown and paid her a visit in her last moments. It was proof enough to him that he hadn't completely lost his humanity. The interaction broke the heart he had, the one that had grown calloused and hard over the years.
From that moment he didn't go on anymore ruthless killing sprees. Well, he tried not to, but sometimes things just don't work out the way you planned for them to. He learned how to control his appetite better, started pursuing his sexual needs in women he deemed fit even if they could never compare to his lovely Rosaline, and eventually reemerged into the land of the living as if he were one of them. He still killed, just less frequently and a lot less obviously.
He returned to his hometown with plans of owning up to some promises he and his mother had planned out for his future all those many years ago.
FAMILY
ELIZABETH MARY EASTON
death
december 27th, 1949
relationship
mother
TIMOTHY LUKAS EASTON
death
december 27th, 1949
relationship
father
i said,
that's life
and as funny as it may seem, some people get their kicks, stomping on a dream. but i don't let it, let it get me down
'cause this fine old world, it just keeps spinnin' round.FRANK SINATRA
THAT'S LIFE
THAT'S LIFE
code by butterfly aubade