dva
are you even trying?
l u k a v o l k o v
male ; 20
november 6 ; scorpio
demisexual
6'1" ; 183 lbs
messy brown hair ; energetic dark brown eyes
luka messes with his hair when he is thinking. as of late, his hair is just long enough to look messy, so he tends to run his hands through it. when it is long and messy, like how it normally is, he pinches a strand of hair. when luka is sheepish or embarrassed, he doesn't make eye contact. his actions are impulsive, as he is just starting to get used to his instincts. his fingers twitch as if they are dancing on a keyboard, as if reliving their past life.
sloth ; wrath ; lust
humility, abstinence, liberality
skills - luka used to be a machine. he would compute numbers and remember codes like no other. this being a distant memory, he doesn't have the mental capacity to do this as effortlessly anymore, but he is still exceptional at mathematics and logistics. he hasn't found himself in another position where he can express any other potential skills that he has.
fears - luka is afraid of excitement. because of the nurses always pestering him and warning him about his body's reactions to his own adrenaline, he is still very cautious of setting off the natural alarms in his heart. he is also terrified of seeing alice in pain. because she was the only one who could relate to him, he had developed a need to protect her, and to see her writhing makes his skin crawl and his bones shake.
desires - luka only wishes for alice, and a sense of security.
regrets - because he hadn't truly been able to live until months ago, luka does not have any regrets.
choleric ; istj-a ; chaotic neutral
luka was a robot. he was bred to be - he was created to be. he lived in a world of writing reports for his division's financial records, of documenting what the department's expenses for years, of referring to a specific record out of millions, of anything that the government found him convenient to do. he never saw any light that wasn't from a monitor's screen; the outdoors meant nothing to him. nothing meant anything to him. he had one purpose, and it was to do nothing but serve. and so he did.
for twenty years.
it ended abruptly - nearly as suddenly as alice fell backwards after hitting his body with hers. in some strange, unexplainable instinct, the machine offered a hand to her, one that she didn't take. it was then that in the man's mind the flame appeared. he began wonder why he lent his hand, and why she hadn't taken it. he wondered if she was ill. he wondered. he was curious. he was like a little boy discovering a frog for the first time. not knowing how to handle such a feeling, he dove into it head first. he sat with her, tried to speak with her, tried to understand if she was ill and if he was starting to become ill himself.
the second the cameras were off, the flame had grown into a forest fire. they had touched, and on purpose, with every intention to discover more about why it was forbidden. the warmth began to fill their bodies, and they were hopeless in their efforts in containing it. it spilled over and showed itself to the cameras. they were whisked away and put under bright, blinding lights and subject to torture.
he doesn't remember it. he doesn't remember the electricity pulsing through his veins and rushing to his heart and then to his brain. he doesn't remember the feeling of his skin melting and the fire that engulfed him. he doesn't remember slipping into seizures and fits.
he does, however, remember waking up to a room full of rebels.
he ran with them in the sewers, constantly looking back at the sleeping alice in a rebel's arms as if he was a bird watching over a chick. he kept his distance, still terrified of all that was going on, but still intrigued by the woman who he maybe knew but didn't recognize. once they had emerged from the ground, luka was overwhelmed with the sight of the outside world. he saw colors that he had never seen before, and he saw people with different skin tones with different faces - even the air felt different. the exhilaration of the unknown began to override his heart, and he fell into more seizures.
he woke in a hospital bed where he would stay for days under a medication that would slow and relax his muscles so he wouldn't get too excited. even under the lull of drug-induced sleep he would wake up to check on alice to make sure she was okay. he would attempt (with great difficulty) to beckon nurses to help her when she squirmed in her bed from pain, and he would spend the last seconds of his fleeting consciousness looking at her before his new dose raced in his veins. his mind now flutters with feelings that he felt only once before or never at all, his skin catching on fire in a smooth buzz like whiskey on the lips when he and alice touch. his memories are locked away, but the ghost of his brainwashed skin haunts him, drawing him to alice.
