COOPER, lucas james.

[erica]

LUCAS JAMES COOPER
you and i should meet.

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GAZE INTO HER KILLING JAR
i'd sometimes stare for hours[/color]
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name: lucas james cooper.
age: twenty.
birthday: august fourth.
band name: mess of me.
position: drummer.
play by: oliver sykes.

LOOK IN MY EYES.

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you're killing me, killing me.[/size][/center]

likes: challenges, alcohol, strobe lights, thunder, dark colours, virgins, loud music, rap, moshing, video games, cold weather, hotels and energy drinks.
dislikes: hypocrites, fake people, hospitals, heat, spaghetti, smoke, drugs, coffee, cops, country music, romantic movies and being looked down to.
habits: biting his lip under pressure, stumbling over his words when he’s anxious, strumming his fingers to whatever song’s stuck in his head.
secrets: was bullied all through school. his father died of cancer.
overall personality: Through the early stages of school Luke had been a laid back, easy flowing kind of dude, but it was until his sudden passion for the hardcore scene that things changed. He began to dress differently, his wardrobe consisting only of graphic tees and torn-to-shreds skinny jeans. He cut his hair straight down the sides of his face, and began to obsess his time over his music. The I-could-give-a-shit-less attitude was dropped the day of his first fight. It was first semester of grade nine and he had been outside in the parking lot, when some large looking senior had shoved him up against the brick wall. He had been called anything from an emo faggot, to a good for nothing pussy. It had gone on for a few minutes before the guy finally took his first punch and the routine continued for weeks before finally rage began to build up inside him. Finally, the pressure caused him to crack. The feel of being defenseless up against that brick wall was unbearable and so Lucas took his first hit. It only caused the strikes from the other guy to become more brutal and painful and the abuse and fighting continued.

Any little flaw from others can irritate the hell out of the boy, and the only way he can relieve himself from the rage is through violence. He’ll only ease up and start to feel comfortable around you if he’s known you for quite some time, or you seem like you’re not a threat. He doesn’t hang around with vain people much, because he feels so insecure. The smallest comments can cause him to snap and retaliate when he feels vulnerable and exposed. The only time he’ll socialize with everyone and anyone is when he’s hammered. Which lately, is often.

Lucas is certainly a victim of mood swings. Not anything too severe, thankfully he isn’t bipolar, but he can act from anything like a straight out asshole, to a sensitive quiet guy depending on introductions, and how you appear in his mind.

I'M AN ADDICT FOR DRAMATICS
i confuse the two for love

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mom: nicole lynn keenan. (forty eight, accountant.)
dad: brian mitchell cooper. (deceased, lung cancer.)
siblings: younger sister; grace elizabeth keenan.
other important figures: step father; ryan jones keenan (fourty nine, mechanic)
overall history: Lucas James was born into the good life. His father was a doctor at a local hospital in San Francisco, and his mother an accountant for a car molding company. The two had it good financially, not enough for some big town mansion or anything, but a lovely looking home. They had been nothing but compassionate towards their newborn son, and things seemed almost perfect. Besides Brian’s little nasty habit. It seemed he was downing a pack a day, and his spouse was doing nothing but worrying. They still spent most of their time caring for their only child, but it was hard with Nicole attempting to pressure Brian into any nicotine anonymous class possible. She was the type of mom who wanted nothing less then an absolute perfect life for her baby to be raised in. But life had something else to offer. His kindergarten years had been brilliant, and he was a respectable child until the day daddy went for a business trip. And never came back. The memory was all too permanent. Luke was at the age of four and he had been sitting at the counter, his feet swinging against his wooden chair to some childhood melody; attempting to portray the beat of london bridge. His smile stretched across his face as the smell of fresh spaghetti was tossed through the air. The clock fingers reached for six o’clock and his father finally scooped noodles onto plates and carried them to their small little dining table. Luke’s mother sat across from him, and his dad to his side. Everything at the time had been nothing but ordinary. Until the coughing started. It had only been a few short ones to begin, but they increased, and the sound was horrible.
It wasn’t just coughing though, he remembered perfectly how he had screamed and cried as his father stumbled to the sink and filled it with blood from his mouth. The scene stained his mind, and his mother had quickly drove them to the hospital.

Days. Weeks. Months. Years. Always the same story. Daddy had made it out of the clinic fine and feeling wonderful. But he had to go to an urgent business trip. And it would take awhile for him to find his way home…Always. Always this was the cover. And soon Lucas had grown accustomed and attached to this idea. Until the day Ryan came. He was at the house more then what should have been allowed, but the boy was only seven at the time and had no say. Supposedly this man was a close friend of daddy’s, but Lucas had caught him doing naughty things with his mother, and he had grown furious. He saw the man kiss his mommy, and hold her like daddy used to and he despised every moment the man was in his house. But it never changed. And soon, he got news of a new arrival. Grace. Now he had been lectured for hours of how he shouldn’t be envious of his new little sister, and how he should treat her with kindness. But since the girl was born into this new, and strange family Lucas was compassionate towards her. After all, he pitied the girl, and the kind of father she was stuck with. His father was ten times the man, and he felt bad for the baby. Years passed and he put in as much effort as possible to be the best role model for the girl. His goal was to convince her to look up to him, instead of the awful man. He refused to call him anything remotely close to dad, claiming that his daddy was going to come back.(He insisted on this, even after they explained to him the story, and even after eleven years of him being gone.) Highschool had started and things seemed somewhat standard, he had even gained some decent friends. It was until one of his friends had taken him to a local metal concert and he fell in love with music. From that day on his life had been devoured by anything loud and accompanied with a good beat and some respectable lyrics.

Ignoring the torment he received at school, he joined his first hardcore band, and they played a few gigs before the arguing became just too out of hand. Too many people were eager to get what they wanted, instead of what the band needed. Soon Lucas discovered rap, and with the screamo he was already into, he started searching for a band who could merge the two of them. Finally he found a few other dudes into the same genres as him, and they formed the band “mess of me.” And the moment opportunity appeared, the band signed themselves up for the ‘dance in the dark’ tour.
rp quote:

“I told the prick never to touch my mother in front of me. I told him that.” Fury consumed his words, even muffled they sliced the silence like a lethal knife. The boy lay across his bed, with his face obscured by his hands, and his mind fogged with anger. It would have stunned anyone, the kind of reply that came to Lucas’ statement. “Please don’t call him that. He isn’t that bad…And it was just a hug Luke.” The voice was so soft it was barely audible, but it caused Lucas to practically jump from his bed and flush the darkest shade of red. “I..I didn’t mean..You know..He’s not…Well I..sorry Grace.”
His hazel eyes searched his sister’s for a moment, before glaring back at the bed sheets. “I just…I don’t like it. It’s not right for her to do that to my father.” He recognized the look that plastered itself onto his sister’s face. Pain and pity. The same emotions everyone always revealed when his father was mentioned.
“Lucas…You’re father is gone. And he isn’t going to come back. I’m sorry, I really am.” His face twisted with rage once again. He glared daggers at his sister and she almost whimpered as his hand clenched into a pale fist. “If you were, you’d keep your godamn mouth shut. You know nothing about my dad, and you know nothing about even having a good father. Yours is a good for nothing cheater who couldn’t find his own love and had to take my Dad’s.”
His teeth sunk into his lip and repressed the scream of anger that wanted to burst from his lungs. He ignored the taste of blood as his teeth drew crimson. Hazel eyes had found their way back to the pale gray sheets he lay against. Luke couldn’t bare the sight of his own sister at the moment. How could she even imagine such a thing about his dad? His dad would have never left him, not forever with this awful man to steal his mother away. The sound of a clicking metal against smooth wood informed him that his sister had exited the room, and by the sounds of a dulled cry she wasn't too pleased about the words he had practically spat at her. Grace didnt deserve it, and he knew that. But he also knew that she needed to learn, and he would never lie to his baby sister.

I DONT WANNA KNOW ABOUT EVIL

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i only wanna know about love[/color][/center]

name/alias: erica, or taryn, either one is cool with me.
age: fifteen.
experience: well i did for a couple years, then stopped and just decided to start up again. (:
password: admin edit.

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this was made by heather. lyrics came from tons of bands, so yeah. dont steal or she will send boo the ghost to eat your face and your mothers face.