THE WHO
WEATHERED. PROTECTIVE. SIMPLISTIC. Lucas Connor O'Shea
AGE. 29
BIRTHDAY. January 5
OCCUPATION. Auto-Mechanic
BIRTH PLACE. Lampton Hill, England
NATIONALITY. Irish
ORIENTATION. Heterosexual
PREMADE TITLE. N/A
PLAYBY. Hayden Christensen
THE WHAT
WEATHERED. Seen in the bags under his eyes and the scars on his pale skin, the man was weathered in every way. Having been tossed through the ringer since the age of 16, Luke was never one to live a very peaceful lifestyle. Back in the early years of O'Shea's existence, it had seemed that there wasn't a day with out some brand new stunt or scheme to plan out, or some new and exciting substance in his grasp. Years later however, it had seemed that all the drinking and drug abuse had left his personality stained from prior decisions. Cautious of everyone, observant of his surroundings, he was a man well traveled in getting by with nothing, but knew nothing when it came to getting by in today's culture. There was a soft paranoia for the authorities in his mind, along side a deep distrust in most people he meant on a daily basis. But being untrusting came with it's perks after all, the street wise kid was a hard target to take down.
PROTECTIVE. Family. It came above all and was everything to him. Protection for what meant most to him, meant that he would never lose it. He would never let it get hurt. He would never let it be harmed. For a man who grew up with nearly nothing for years after his families abandonment, protection of the things he never wanted to be with out came above all else...especially his neice, Holly. Ok, so it might have been a little over the top some times to thoroughly inspect every person for drugs, weapons, and disease that came in contact with the three year old before letting her play, but it was for her own safety. Once a person found their way onto it's list, it was near impossible to fall out of. After all, it had been years since Luke O'Shea had found himself in the midst of a loving family - and it was was no exaggeration to say that he would do anything it took to stay there.
SIMPLISTIC. Having years of nothing under his belt, even the smallest of "somethings" were something. Something big. Something beautiful. Something to call his own. His small studio apartment in Lampton wasn't just some hole in wall, no, it was a quaint domicile. His thrown. His home. He was proud of the most humblest of things, and having to work for everything in life, satisfied with the most demure lifestyle. Extravagance was just wasteful, tacky and almost vulgar. Money was just some kind of currency, not something to hoard and strive for. There was no need for a six bedroom mansion with jet-skies, a hot tub and an indoor bowling alley. All you needed was yourself, your family, and a little bit to get yourself through the days. Or at least, that's the way Luke saw it. His life was simple, drama free and full of purpose, uncluttered by pretentious materials and people. It was how it should be.
LIKES. his job, a cold beer, petite women, the beatles, dark-green, politics, family, simplicity, old cars, hannah barbera cartoons
DISLIKES. excessive force, ignorant people, fighting, past-times, modern pop music, teenagers who try to be all wayward and cool, twilight books, the fact that he has no love life
THE WHY
BEST MEMORY. "My father and I were extremely close when I was little. He was a car mechanic as well, and the happiest days of my life were spent at his side in the garage with the radio on blast, listening to old seventies rock or political debates while working on an engine. We'd hold our own little disputes over the motor of the old Chevy, arguing different sides with each other and having Mom judge the winner. Who ever won got control of the TV after diner."
WORST MEMORY. "It was after coming down off of two bags that I found her crying next to me. I hadn't even realized it. I didn't know why she was there. I felt..horrible. I kept asking: How long had she there? Did she know? Maybe she was just crying on her own over something. Maybe it wasn't me. But after she looked at me and tried to form words I just kind of lost it and agreed to go home. I had never been truly ashamed of my self before that moment. I wanted to die."
Lucas' parents were simple folk. They were both born in Lampton, raised in Lampton, married in Lampton and bred in Lampton. Small town people with the stereotypical small town careers. His mother, Elizabeth Grove, was a small time baker down-town, his father, Nicholas O'Shea, was a prime-mechanic. The two met at the communal cathoic church and it was love ever since. Days turned into months, monthes turned into years, and as their prime passed they were married and had three children, bringing their heavy faith along with them. The first born was Nathaniel, born July 13, 1977 in the usual manner, later on loosing his only-child title at the birth of David two years later. Then once more for Lucas in 1980. The five settled into their first home together prior to Lucas' birth on Roderick Avenue and lived out their days happily together (or so they hoped too).
The O'Shea household was a conservative one. Family came first, the lord came next. All things after. Although there was many nights spent laughing over the hood of an old car with his father, there were an equal number that involved an interminable sermon on how dangerous is was to stray from the righteous path, how the devil wanted his soul, and how he would burn in hell if he didn't follow God's way. It was a very pessimistic lifestyle on nights that didn't involve the garage or some kind of trip for ice cream, but, as God taketh a sane family atmosphere, he giveth as well. And he gave-eth to look, in the form of perhaps, the most beautiful girl he had ever met in his life. Sophie Flemming. From day one, the two had hit it off - both being from religious households and both in desperate need of some where else to go. They'd spend the good days at the O'Shea's in the garage together with her father and the bad at the Flemming farm. Growing up was easy at that point with her at his side, but apparently...god had other plans.
David was the first to shake up the standard oppressive Irish-Catholic life style. On a Thursday night after asking Lucas to pass the green-beans, he found it necessary to announce that he was gay. Lucas coughed and spat up the mound of turkey he was in the middle of eating, but continued with a small shrug with the savory meal. His parents, how ever, took things a little more extreme. Counselors were called, appointments were set up--this plague of homosexuality had to be stopped. It marked the point in Luke's life that his parents had realized how wrong they had been about raising their children. Family didn't come first any more. The lord did. Working on cars together turned into bible time and ice cream trips meant going to mass another two or three times a week. Family interaction had turned into a religious affair, and what with the fear of being exiled as David was over his head and no family support, it was almost expected of Luke to turn in a wayward direction. Nobody expected the severity though.
In his teen years, Sophie didn't seem to be enough from keeping him to dive in deeper waters - the social introvert experimenting with new social groups, new people, and new substances. Having her and his older brother Nathaniel as the only things constant in his life, he felt confident in his exploration stages of drug usage. Starting as harmless, it began with cannabis. Then inhalants. Then prescription pills. Next cocaine. It was at the age of 19 he had found himself snorting heroin with his girlfriend of the time out of the back of some paint truck in London. It was at 20 that he had graduated to a syringe and dropped out most of his ties from the world to become a full blown addict. All ties, except the one with the girl he had loved of course. And it was thanks to her, Sophie, and his brother that he had found his way into rehab at the age of 22. It took seven years of dropping in and out of the programs, methadone treatment, relapsing, assisted living, and therapy before he had been labeled a clean and sober man.
Now at 29, he was out of the darkness and into the dawn of a new day. A new day that involved Sophie Flemming married to his brother and a humble job at the local auto-repair place with little to no interaction with his family at all. It was a life that he hadn't anticipated, to say the least.
THE HOW
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