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metemmods Player Information
» Name: Angie
» Date of Birth: 11/30/1978
» Journal:![[insanejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/ij-userinfo.gif)
mindsplinters
» Contact: shortcakegreen @ gmail dot com, Sappho13
Deity Information
» Pantheon: Greek
» Deity: Ares
» Reference: bloodshed and war
» Divine Family: {mother & father} Zeus and Hera; {spouse} none; {siblings} lots and lots of halves - Athena, Apollo, Artemis, Hephaestus...; {children} Immortal sprogs - Deimos, Phobos, Harmonia, Eros, Anteros, and Adrestia by Aphrodite, Enyalios by Enyo, Kydoimos possibly by Eris
Mortal sprogs - a fair amount but the most notable would be Alkippe for whom he stood trial, pretty much all of the Amazons (but definitely Antiope, Penthesileia, and Hippolyte), Diomedes of flesh-eating horse fame, Cycnus of temple-built-of-bones fame, Remus and Romulus
» Mythology:
An unpopular god usually regarded as bloodthirsty and uncouth and unprincipled even amongst the Greek gods themselves, Ares was the son of Zeus and Hera and given the sphere of battle as his own. However, he was the opposite of Athena in her battle goddess glory. His was the bloodlust and the raw brutality and the thoughtless violence. His totems were the dog and the vulture and he rode in a chariot drawn by violent horses and accompanied by Phobos and Deimos, egged on by Eris and Enyo.
Rarely does he show as anything other than brutish or even childish in myths. He was just not a very nice guy. He had a lot of anger issues and violence in him. Perhaps ironically, though, the thing he is best known for is his long-standing love affair with Aphrodite. He and the goddess of love and beauty were an enduring item despite her marriage. She bore him numerous children and he sided with the Trojans during their eponymous war despite promising Hera and Athena otherwise because of Aphrodite’s influence. He was possessive of Aphrodite, too, and clearly did not think much of her husband. One version of the Adonis myth features a petty Ares taking on the form of the boar that gores the youth as punishment for distracting her too much. On the other hand, he looks just as ridiculous in the other story revolving around their tryst. Alerted by Helios about the lovers, Hephaestus strung a fine but strong net and caught them inflagrante, hoisting them up for ridicule. Ares, it can be assumed, sulked a lot after that. Certainly sulking is what he did in spades after Athena aided the Greek hero Diomedes in putting a spear through his stomach during the Trojan War and then, when he still insisted on sticking his nose in, flattened him with a boulder herself.
On the other end of things, there are a rare few more sympathetic tales. In one story, two giant brothers trapped a young Ares in a big bronze jar. Luckily, their mother took pity on him, reported the situation to Hermes, and he was released. There was another instance where he came to the rescue of Thanatos who had been captured and bound by the mortal king, Sisyphus.
While it can be argued that there are no stories about him violently ravishing women (his partners seem to have been remarkably amenable and there was a long-term element to a number of the relationships), he fathered a dubious range of children. To his credit, though, he was a doting, protective father in his own way. Even such violent children as Cycnus spurred him to attempt a rescue though he was unable to do more than gain an injury from the enraged Heracles and see his son killed anyway. Ares was more successful in protecting and avenging his daughter Alkippe when a son of Poseidon attempted to rape her. He slew the offender which led to Poseidon pressing charges and a right royal divine court case. Ares was acquitted because, well... Because the Greek gods apparently were less cool with those not themselves doing the raping and they were all for Dads being righteous.
Character Information
» Played By: Jeffrey Dean Morgan
» Journal:blood_dog
» Current Name: Lukas Volkov
» Birthdate: 10/14/1969
» Height: 6’5”
» Distinguishing Marks: various tattoos, none of them in color, some of them acquired when drunk; usually sports a beard or scruffy 5 o’clock shadow
» Family: {mother & father} Alexander and Stephanie Volkov; {marital status/spouse} Candi Volkov, ex-wife; {siblings} younger sister Theresa; {children} none, thank heavens; {pets} Tank, a male mutt that is mostly Rottweiler, slightly stupid, slightly insane, slightly adorable
» Occupation: ex-Army Ranger Staff Sergeant, currently a hunting guide/survival expert with a supplemental income as a pulp-novel writer of stupid action serials
» Currently Residing In: His post office box is in Seeley Lake, MT. His actual home is more remote and towards the Marshall Creek game lands.
» Ability:
Active Ares has a knack for bringing out the worst in people when he wants to - ie he can encourage emotions into action, a berserker sort of lashing out based on strong emotions like anger and fear.
Subconscious: Superior martial skill, particularly with a sword or spear. Instinctive grasp of any weapon put into his hand.
Passive Ares is quicker, hardier, and stronger than your average bear but can still be injured. He will heal faster from such injuries (but will be a complete baby about it).
UPDATE: Weapons master - Ares can turn anything into an effective weapon and use it with deadly precision.
» History:
Ares has been a soldier in every major conflict since his days as a full god. He has never been a highly ranked or even memorable soldier, though, and he never survived past the final days of the war to find peace. None of the lives made much of an impact on anyone aside from direct family which, for Ares, was strangely fun. Prior to coming back as Lukas Volkov, his last life was as a British paratrooper landed east of the River Orne on June 6, 1944. He died within the next 24 hours.
Born to a cheerfully middle-class and law-abiding and church-going couple, a car salesman and a secretary, Lukas seemed to have the American Dream all sewn up and slated to be his future. Both of his parents were third generation American, they had a perfect little brick house, they were in a nice section of Dearborn, MI, and things went pretty swimmingly for the first five years of his life. A little bit angry and prone to dark sulks but Lukas was still a pretty good kid. Things went a little rocky when he entered kindergarten; Lukas had some trouble Playing Well With Others. Mom and Dad’s solution to this (as well as to his boundless energy) was to enroll him in a soccer league. As time went on, they added or rotated through additional group activities - peewee football, softball, karate. It appeared to work and little Lukas began behaving... Or at least channeling any aggression into socially acceptable past-times.
When he was ten years old, the world changed pretty much beyond his willingness to cope. Which is an overdramatic way of saying Lukas really did not welcome the birth of his new baby sister Theresa. At all. With the attention split between two children, Lukas began acting out again and, despite the new round of activities, his parents were hard-pressed to keep him on any kind of leash. As Theresa proved to be a perfect angel with brains and grace and good manners, Lukas grew ever darker and more sullen with resentment. He drew away from his family and spent more time with unsuitable friends, running half-wild in the streets and picking fights. He took up drinking and smoking but resisted drugs - less out of good sense and more out of disgust at how they affected his friends. By the time he was 15, he had been suspended twice and, with his next infraction, due to be expelled. In desperation, his parents withdrew him from public schools and thrust him into a local private boys’ academy known for its strict regulations and rigid adherence to All Things Right.
In reality, what it did was make Lukas smarter about his rebellions. His bullying became more systematic and his anger cloaked in cold disdain. He applied himself just enough to his studies to graduate, intimidating weaker boys into helping him get through the classes he found less interesting. The only class he ever really seemed invested in was, strangely enough, creative writing and, even then, he would only turn in half of what he wrote - deliberately sabotaging any praise for his sparse but interesting prose. While he never captained any of the teams, he was always a valued member and received a football scholarship upon graduation. He had no desire to go to college but, in yet another one of his sporadic attempts to gain his parents’ favor and approval, he took the scholarship and entered University of Michigan. He still counts the look on his mother’s face on the day of his graduation as one of his happy memories.
He made it through his freshman year with some great stories and a miserable GPA. Knowing this would not improve with time, Lukas dropped out and moved home at the end of the school year. That lasted exactly one month until he made his mother cry during an argument. It broke his heart and, tail between his legs, he left the house he had grown up in. With no better idea in his head, he marched over to an army recruiter’s post and signed up. His obvious physical strengths recommended him highly and he tested well enough to get some choices. When he displayed a remarkable lack of give-a-damn, they tossed him in the army and sent him off to boot camp. There, he sank happily into the world of rules and physicality and violence simmering just beneath the surface. He used his knowledge of pecking orders and the techniques learned at his old school to insert himself into the appropriate position of his unit and he soon became known as a hard-ass, a good bro to have but not someone you want to cross.
When he was 21 and designated a Private First Class, Lukas was put through a series of tests to determine what to do with him next. He aced them in a rather bored manner to the amusement of his CO who had already made up his mind that the tests were just a formality to get the young man into Ranger School. Roughly 65 days later, he had made it through with an impressive record. The only black mark was one that would remain on his files for the next decade and a half - PFC Lukas Volkov had a temper and a well-controlled disregard for high command, ie he thought the brass were idiots but followed orders.
Neither of his parents came down for the graduation ceremony and it was one of the RI’s who pinned him. To say Lukas was hurt would be an understatement. To say he handled it well would be a lie. Despite having immediately used his returned privileges at the end of school to call his parents, he broke off all contact until he received deployment orders roughly six months later. Even then, all they got was an abrupt postcard. “Gone to war. Be back later.”
He was gone for the Gulf before they even had the pathetic note in their hands.
Lukas spent the next 16 years in and out of war zones, walking the fine line of insubordination at times but always proving his worth and converting other’s dislike of him into grudging respect. He performed in any number of maneuvers, any number of raids and battles. Over time, he moved up to the rank of Staff Sergeant. It was perhaps a slower climb than some others but he did it on his own terms and was happier for that. It was also made slower by the fact that, every so often, he nearly got himself busted back to PFC based on his mouth or a bit of brawling with his unit-mates. The temper hadn’t left him; it was just on slow simmer.
He was in the Gulf, in Bosnia, in Afghanistan. He rarely spent much more time than he had to State-side, crashing at small apartments on base or dive motels. He visited his parents even more rarely, dropping a postcard or a phone call once or twice a year, actually visiting every couple of years. When the heartache took him, he would try harder but something would always go wrong and there would be shouting and tears and he would leave in a sick rage. He drank and smoked rather too much in between deployments. He slept with a lot of women and picked a fair number of bar fights. Sometimes those things combined and, when he was 30, he woke up with a raging hangover and married to a woman he vaguely remembered from the previous night’s strip club. Once he learned her name (Candi), he got cleaned up and took her for breakfast and they talked and he thought, what the hell, maybe it was time. To his credit, Lukas really did try to make their marriage work and they found a nice apartment to share when he was home. As he got to know her, he liked her well enough, found that she could make him laugh, and the sex was really, really good. Of course, the fights were also out of bounds but he was always careful to resist any temptation to lay a hand on her. So the knick knacks suffered as time went on but he stubbornly worked at their marriage. They kept it going for five years, fighting and making up and being passionately devoted and fighting all over again. Lukas was astonishingly faithful and he likes to think she was, too. If nothing else, he never got a Dear John letter and their final break up was face to face. Bitter and accusatory and nasty but at least it was in person.
Lukas went on one hell of a bender afterwards and sobered up just in time to ship out again. He was in Iraq when his sister Theresa, the Golden Child, graduated law school. He might have sent a card. He can’t remember. It was too soon after Candi and he couldn’t bring himself to give a damn. Especially when he got a letter from her telling him all about her wonderful job with the district attorney’s office and and and...
He doesn’t remember too much about the next four years. It was work and leave and drinking and smoking and women and a building anger. He started getting into more off-duty fights, he closed off from the rest of his unit, he generally became a grumpy testy bastard. More so than usual. He still performed his duties well and led his men and obeyed orders but there was a new noticeable strain to him. After all, it was hard to miss the new verbal assaults though he still avoided throwing fists at anyone in the company.
Five years ago appeared to be the final straw and, while on a mission, he disobeyed a direct order. The result saved the unit but it was still a problem and his CO at the time had a growing dislike of him and... Well, a civilized dressing-down escalated into a shouting match including some ill-advised threats. Lukas kept himself from throwing a punch at the man but he did do some serious damage to the walls outside the office... and took a swing at one of the other staff sergeants who came to try and calm him down. Almost before he knew it, he was facing a few options, none of them particularly palatable. He accepted an other than honorable discharge with gritted teeth to avoid a court martial. Tail between his legs, he returned home to his parents. His time there was spent between hiding in his room, running endless miles, and getting into blazing barfights. It was at this point that he started to have the dreams and memories, further fueling his inner rage and turmoil. Eventually, even he got sick of himself and left their house on somewhat good terms (ie there was no shouting match when he said goodbye). This, not coincidentally, matched up with the day he finally accepted that he was possibly crazy and most definitely Ares.
He spent the next year and a half traveling the country, looking for something to do. If it got him killed, well, then so be it. After a few more months of that, though, he reached the limit of his patience with his self-declared emo-bullshit. After a bit of research and as much soul-searching as Lukas ever managed, he made his way to the middle of the country, looking for game lands and wilderness and quiet (aka far away from people likely to piss him off). Within a year, he had gotten the appropriate certifications, found a small cabin, and thrown together a crude website to advertise his services as a guide. Within another year, he had established himself to the point where he could be a little more choosy about his groups.
Two years ago, in the depths of winter, Lukas found himself feeling strangely bored and isolated. He was snowed in, had chopped all the wood he could need, cleaned all the guns and the cabin... He had also read all of the books, magazines, and newspapers. So he opened up his laptop and started writing again, what he considered a nonsense short story about a man abandoned on a jungle planet as punishment. Three weeks later, after a bottle of tequila, he submitted it to a fiction magazine and promptly forgot he had done so. A month later, he had an acceptance letter and had to scramble for a pen-name. Since then, Lukas has been writing off and on as a supplement to his income and an outlet to some of his darker impulses. Five months ago, he applied to have his discharge upgraded to general. He’s not holding his breath but he’s hoping. Meanwhile, he watches the news about the godlings and waits.
» Personality:
As if to go against the saying about old dogs and new tricks, Ares seems to have learned a few things over time that have tempered his earlier personality. A little bit. Somewhat. Kind of.
Oh, who am I kidding? At his base, Lukas is still a very angry man. He has a deep well of fury and suppressed violence in him that even he can’t understand. It could be as simple as an anger management issue never dealt with properly but it is very certain that being Ares doesn’t help the situation. He gets annoyed easily and suffers fools not at all gladly. It is hard to predict what will set him off exactly, though there are a few hot button topics. Tragically, he has never learned to use words as full replacements to action and, when frustrated, he finds himself unable to articulate the issue. So he punches it. What really makes the situation worse, however, is that Lukas has a level of self-awareness that Ares never possessed before. In other words, the poor jerk knows that he’s an angry, violent, unreasonable asshole and most likely overreacting when he feels the need to punch you in the face. It’s just that he can’t quite seem to do anything about it beyond the knowing. So he is currently trying to work around that by living in the middle of nowhere as a virtual hermit and letting the nearest town think he is either the biggest nut ever or else a tragically broken man. He doesn’t care which so long as it keeps people at arm’s length which, in turn, lessens the chance that he might strangle someone. When he does have to go into town and interact, he does his best to be as polite as possible and he is very careful to not touch anyone more than necessary.
Unless you want to be touched because he’s cool with that, too. Hermity mountain man he may be, Lukas still has a need for the occasional bout of companionship - often in the form of a pretty lady. He also has a complete weakness for kids and will go out of his way to protect them even if he also scares the heebie jeebies out of them. He is not a gentle man or someone who can tell a pretty white lie to help a kid sleep better at night. On the other hand, he will rip the heart out of anyone who tries to take advantage of or hurt a child. He has no patience or sympathy for those who abuse or rape and deals with such things the same way he always has... He punches them. Hard and repeatedly.
On the other hand, beyond the rage, Lukas is actually surprisingly charismatic and, when not actively simmering, can play well with others. His extreme alpha-maleness translates into a level of respect from most and, if he finds you interesting, he can put some serious weight behind his attention that is very flattering. He has an infectious laugh and a wry sense of humor mixed with heavy sarcasm that stops just short of being personally nasty. His dark amusement is reserved for the world; you and everyone else are just travelers with him on the big blue marble. Of course, he also has a bad habit of being vulgar just for the sake of shock value but a quick observer will pick up the twinkle in his eye and his faint smirk to clue them in. Overall, Lukas presents himself to the world with a devil-may-care attitude that is usually interpreted as the epitome of self-assured and capable. While he is both of those things, the attitude is just another way for him to cope with his anger issues; if he tells you he doesn’t care, then it’s easier to pretend to himself that he doesn’t care. What can we say? He is not the most emotionally mature or even honest person around. He might know himself but he isn’t keen on you knowing him too well... If you want to pretend, though, it’s no skin off his nose.
Lukas is a mule-headed so and so and once he is set on a path it is nearly impossible to redirect him. That single-mindedness helped while living as a Ranger but it makes for more friction in the civilian world - yet another reason that he lives alone and runs his own business where he can boss his clients around with impunity. He pays close attention to the physical world but, due to his own tendencies, often misses the finer details of emotional cues. Unfortunately, when he does pick up on emotions, sometimes it is not to anyone’s benefit. He reacts instinctively - warmth to warmth, cold to cold. This means that he is a trust-worthy guy, unlikely to dissemble or fake his emotions. On the other hand, this also allows you to know when he is dismissing you completely. Lukas is particularly hard when it comes to perceived weakness, either in himself or others. He doesn’t know what to do with it and so he just refuses to tolerate it. He thinks quickly and is overflowing with practicality and street smarts. It goes a ways towards balancing out his disinterest in the more scholarly pursuits.
In short, he is a deep-down asshole but he is trying to avoid rubbing it in your face. That counts for something, right?
» Other Notes: Straight as a ruler, Lukas has never even thought of another guy as attractive (competent, yes; hot, no). He would not have a single clue how to react graciously to a man hitting on him.
A top level shooter, sniper certified. Adept at krav magra, wu shu, and jujitsu. Conned a Marine buddy into adequate training in MCMAP.
Can drive just about anything with wheels but is hopeless with flying machines and only somewhat better with water vehicles.
Has complete and well-thumbed collections of Louis L’Amours, Ian Flemings, and Ron E Howards.
» Sample Journal:
0600 is what I told them. I should have said that’s when the big hand is on the 12 and the little hand is on the 6 and it’s still a little bit dark out. That might have made things simpler for these pampered rich boys. Then again, I should have taken away their bullets and just taken them to the kids’ park and had them push each other on the swing set. It is a wonder that none of the idiots shot themselves. At least, when I take these sort of assholes out, I know Bambi and Thumper are safe. The only thing in danger out there is their wallet as I begin to charge extra for stupidity after the first 10 dumb questions.
» Sample Log:
Sitting on the edge of the sparse army-issue mattress, SSgt Lukas Volkov looked down at his hands. He saw them shaking, trembling, and closed them into careful fists. That stopped the worst of the tremors. On the other hand, it just reminded him of what he had done.
He grimaced and lowered his head to stare past his hands at the cold concrete floor. He was sunk. Completely and totally screwed. FUBAR with a capital F. Damn it. Nearly twenty-five years in service down the fucking drain. No hope of reprieve either thanks to that SOB in the office. Not that he had helped things by decking Collins.
He would be lucky if he escaped lock-up, let alone a court martial.
He felt the frustration boil up again and grit his teeth against it. Hot and cold sleeted over his skin and the increasingly familiar red haze slipped over his eyes. He wanted to hit something again, to tear things apart, but he knew it would just make his case worse. He tightened his fists until his knuckles went white.
SSgt Lukas Volkov, he thought, you’re going to burn for this.
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» Name: Angie
» Date of Birth: 11/30/1978
» Journal:
mindsplinters» Contact: shortcakegreen @ gmail dot com, Sappho13
Deity Information
» Pantheon: Greek
» Deity: Ares
» Reference: bloodshed and war
» Divine Family: {mother & father} Zeus and Hera; {spouse} none; {siblings} lots and lots of halves - Athena, Apollo, Artemis, Hephaestus...; {children} Immortal sprogs - Deimos, Phobos, Harmonia, Eros, Anteros, and Adrestia by Aphrodite, Enyalios by Enyo, Kydoimos possibly by Eris
Mortal sprogs - a fair amount but the most notable would be Alkippe for whom he stood trial, pretty much all of the Amazons (but definitely Antiope, Penthesileia, and Hippolyte), Diomedes of flesh-eating horse fame, Cycnus of temple-built-of-bones fame, Remus and Romulus
» Mythology:
An unpopular god usually regarded as bloodthirsty and uncouth and unprincipled even amongst the Greek gods themselves, Ares was the son of Zeus and Hera and given the sphere of battle as his own. However, he was the opposite of Athena in her battle goddess glory. His was the bloodlust and the raw brutality and the thoughtless violence. His totems were the dog and the vulture and he rode in a chariot drawn by violent horses and accompanied by Phobos and Deimos, egged on by Eris and Enyo.
Rarely does he show as anything other than brutish or even childish in myths. He was just not a very nice guy. He had a lot of anger issues and violence in him. Perhaps ironically, though, the thing he is best known for is his long-standing love affair with Aphrodite. He and the goddess of love and beauty were an enduring item despite her marriage. She bore him numerous children and he sided with the Trojans during their eponymous war despite promising Hera and Athena otherwise because of Aphrodite’s influence. He was possessive of Aphrodite, too, and clearly did not think much of her husband. One version of the Adonis myth features a petty Ares taking on the form of the boar that gores the youth as punishment for distracting her too much. On the other hand, he looks just as ridiculous in the other story revolving around their tryst. Alerted by Helios about the lovers, Hephaestus strung a fine but strong net and caught them inflagrante, hoisting them up for ridicule. Ares, it can be assumed, sulked a lot after that. Certainly sulking is what he did in spades after Athena aided the Greek hero Diomedes in putting a spear through his stomach during the Trojan War and then, when he still insisted on sticking his nose in, flattened him with a boulder herself.
On the other end of things, there are a rare few more sympathetic tales. In one story, two giant brothers trapped a young Ares in a big bronze jar. Luckily, their mother took pity on him, reported the situation to Hermes, and he was released. There was another instance where he came to the rescue of Thanatos who had been captured and bound by the mortal king, Sisyphus.
While it can be argued that there are no stories about him violently ravishing women (his partners seem to have been remarkably amenable and there was a long-term element to a number of the relationships), he fathered a dubious range of children. To his credit, though, he was a doting, protective father in his own way. Even such violent children as Cycnus spurred him to attempt a rescue though he was unable to do more than gain an injury from the enraged Heracles and see his son killed anyway. Ares was more successful in protecting and avenging his daughter Alkippe when a son of Poseidon attempted to rape her. He slew the offender which led to Poseidon pressing charges and a right royal divine court case. Ares was acquitted because, well... Because the Greek gods apparently were less cool with those not themselves doing the raping and they were all for Dads being righteous.
Character Information
» Played By: Jeffrey Dean Morgan
» Journal:
blood_dog» Current Name: Lukas Volkov
» Birthdate: 10/14/1969
» Height: 6’5”
» Distinguishing Marks: various tattoos, none of them in color, some of them acquired when drunk; usually sports a beard or scruffy 5 o’clock shadow
» Family: {mother & father} Alexander and Stephanie Volkov; {marital status/spouse} Candi Volkov, ex-wife; {siblings} younger sister Theresa; {children} none, thank heavens; {pets} Tank, a male mutt that is mostly Rottweiler, slightly stupid, slightly insane, slightly adorable
» Occupation: ex-Army Ranger Staff Sergeant, currently a hunting guide/survival expert with a supplemental income as a pulp-novel writer of stupid action serials
» Currently Residing In: His post office box is in Seeley Lake, MT. His actual home is more remote and towards the Marshall Creek game lands.
» Ability:
Active Ares has a knack for bringing out the worst in people when he wants to - ie he can encourage emotions into action, a berserker sort of lashing out based on strong emotions like anger and fear.
Subconscious: Superior martial skill, particularly with a sword or spear. Instinctive grasp of any weapon put into his hand.
Passive Ares is quicker, hardier, and stronger than your average bear but can still be injured. He will heal faster from such injuries (but will be a complete baby about it).
UPDATE: Weapons master - Ares can turn anything into an effective weapon and use it with deadly precision.
» History:
Ares has been a soldier in every major conflict since his days as a full god. He has never been a highly ranked or even memorable soldier, though, and he never survived past the final days of the war to find peace. None of the lives made much of an impact on anyone aside from direct family which, for Ares, was strangely fun. Prior to coming back as Lukas Volkov, his last life was as a British paratrooper landed east of the River Orne on June 6, 1944. He died within the next 24 hours.
Born to a cheerfully middle-class and law-abiding and church-going couple, a car salesman and a secretary, Lukas seemed to have the American Dream all sewn up and slated to be his future. Both of his parents were third generation American, they had a perfect little brick house, they were in a nice section of Dearborn, MI, and things went pretty swimmingly for the first five years of his life. A little bit angry and prone to dark sulks but Lukas was still a pretty good kid. Things went a little rocky when he entered kindergarten; Lukas had some trouble Playing Well With Others. Mom and Dad’s solution to this (as well as to his boundless energy) was to enroll him in a soccer league. As time went on, they added or rotated through additional group activities - peewee football, softball, karate. It appeared to work and little Lukas began behaving... Or at least channeling any aggression into socially acceptable past-times.
When he was ten years old, the world changed pretty much beyond his willingness to cope. Which is an overdramatic way of saying Lukas really did not welcome the birth of his new baby sister Theresa. At all. With the attention split between two children, Lukas began acting out again and, despite the new round of activities, his parents were hard-pressed to keep him on any kind of leash. As Theresa proved to be a perfect angel with brains and grace and good manners, Lukas grew ever darker and more sullen with resentment. He drew away from his family and spent more time with unsuitable friends, running half-wild in the streets and picking fights. He took up drinking and smoking but resisted drugs - less out of good sense and more out of disgust at how they affected his friends. By the time he was 15, he had been suspended twice and, with his next infraction, due to be expelled. In desperation, his parents withdrew him from public schools and thrust him into a local private boys’ academy known for its strict regulations and rigid adherence to All Things Right.
In reality, what it did was make Lukas smarter about his rebellions. His bullying became more systematic and his anger cloaked in cold disdain. He applied himself just enough to his studies to graduate, intimidating weaker boys into helping him get through the classes he found less interesting. The only class he ever really seemed invested in was, strangely enough, creative writing and, even then, he would only turn in half of what he wrote - deliberately sabotaging any praise for his sparse but interesting prose. While he never captained any of the teams, he was always a valued member and received a football scholarship upon graduation. He had no desire to go to college but, in yet another one of his sporadic attempts to gain his parents’ favor and approval, he took the scholarship and entered University of Michigan. He still counts the look on his mother’s face on the day of his graduation as one of his happy memories.
He made it through his freshman year with some great stories and a miserable GPA. Knowing this would not improve with time, Lukas dropped out and moved home at the end of the school year. That lasted exactly one month until he made his mother cry during an argument. It broke his heart and, tail between his legs, he left the house he had grown up in. With no better idea in his head, he marched over to an army recruiter’s post and signed up. His obvious physical strengths recommended him highly and he tested well enough to get some choices. When he displayed a remarkable lack of give-a-damn, they tossed him in the army and sent him off to boot camp. There, he sank happily into the world of rules and physicality and violence simmering just beneath the surface. He used his knowledge of pecking orders and the techniques learned at his old school to insert himself into the appropriate position of his unit and he soon became known as a hard-ass, a good bro to have but not someone you want to cross.
When he was 21 and designated a Private First Class, Lukas was put through a series of tests to determine what to do with him next. He aced them in a rather bored manner to the amusement of his CO who had already made up his mind that the tests were just a formality to get the young man into Ranger School. Roughly 65 days later, he had made it through with an impressive record. The only black mark was one that would remain on his files for the next decade and a half - PFC Lukas Volkov had a temper and a well-controlled disregard for high command, ie he thought the brass were idiots but followed orders.
Neither of his parents came down for the graduation ceremony and it was one of the RI’s who pinned him. To say Lukas was hurt would be an understatement. To say he handled it well would be a lie. Despite having immediately used his returned privileges at the end of school to call his parents, he broke off all contact until he received deployment orders roughly six months later. Even then, all they got was an abrupt postcard. “Gone to war. Be back later.”
He was gone for the Gulf before they even had the pathetic note in their hands.
Lukas spent the next 16 years in and out of war zones, walking the fine line of insubordination at times but always proving his worth and converting other’s dislike of him into grudging respect. He performed in any number of maneuvers, any number of raids and battles. Over time, he moved up to the rank of Staff Sergeant. It was perhaps a slower climb than some others but he did it on his own terms and was happier for that. It was also made slower by the fact that, every so often, he nearly got himself busted back to PFC based on his mouth or a bit of brawling with his unit-mates. The temper hadn’t left him; it was just on slow simmer.
He was in the Gulf, in Bosnia, in Afghanistan. He rarely spent much more time than he had to State-side, crashing at small apartments on base or dive motels. He visited his parents even more rarely, dropping a postcard or a phone call once or twice a year, actually visiting every couple of years. When the heartache took him, he would try harder but something would always go wrong and there would be shouting and tears and he would leave in a sick rage. He drank and smoked rather too much in between deployments. He slept with a lot of women and picked a fair number of bar fights. Sometimes those things combined and, when he was 30, he woke up with a raging hangover and married to a woman he vaguely remembered from the previous night’s strip club. Once he learned her name (Candi), he got cleaned up and took her for breakfast and they talked and he thought, what the hell, maybe it was time. To his credit, Lukas really did try to make their marriage work and they found a nice apartment to share when he was home. As he got to know her, he liked her well enough, found that she could make him laugh, and the sex was really, really good. Of course, the fights were also out of bounds but he was always careful to resist any temptation to lay a hand on her. So the knick knacks suffered as time went on but he stubbornly worked at their marriage. They kept it going for five years, fighting and making up and being passionately devoted and fighting all over again. Lukas was astonishingly faithful and he likes to think she was, too. If nothing else, he never got a Dear John letter and their final break up was face to face. Bitter and accusatory and nasty but at least it was in person.
Lukas went on one hell of a bender afterwards and sobered up just in time to ship out again. He was in Iraq when his sister Theresa, the Golden Child, graduated law school. He might have sent a card. He can’t remember. It was too soon after Candi and he couldn’t bring himself to give a damn. Especially when he got a letter from her telling him all about her wonderful job with the district attorney’s office and and and...
He doesn’t remember too much about the next four years. It was work and leave and drinking and smoking and women and a building anger. He started getting into more off-duty fights, he closed off from the rest of his unit, he generally became a grumpy testy bastard. More so than usual. He still performed his duties well and led his men and obeyed orders but there was a new noticeable strain to him. After all, it was hard to miss the new verbal assaults though he still avoided throwing fists at anyone in the company.
Five years ago appeared to be the final straw and, while on a mission, he disobeyed a direct order. The result saved the unit but it was still a problem and his CO at the time had a growing dislike of him and... Well, a civilized dressing-down escalated into a shouting match including some ill-advised threats. Lukas kept himself from throwing a punch at the man but he did do some serious damage to the walls outside the office... and took a swing at one of the other staff sergeants who came to try and calm him down. Almost before he knew it, he was facing a few options, none of them particularly palatable. He accepted an other than honorable discharge with gritted teeth to avoid a court martial. Tail between his legs, he returned home to his parents. His time there was spent between hiding in his room, running endless miles, and getting into blazing barfights. It was at this point that he started to have the dreams and memories, further fueling his inner rage and turmoil. Eventually, even he got sick of himself and left their house on somewhat good terms (ie there was no shouting match when he said goodbye). This, not coincidentally, matched up with the day he finally accepted that he was possibly crazy and most definitely Ares.
He spent the next year and a half traveling the country, looking for something to do. If it got him killed, well, then so be it. After a few more months of that, though, he reached the limit of his patience with his self-declared emo-bullshit. After a bit of research and as much soul-searching as Lukas ever managed, he made his way to the middle of the country, looking for game lands and wilderness and quiet (aka far away from people likely to piss him off). Within a year, he had gotten the appropriate certifications, found a small cabin, and thrown together a crude website to advertise his services as a guide. Within another year, he had established himself to the point where he could be a little more choosy about his groups.
Two years ago, in the depths of winter, Lukas found himself feeling strangely bored and isolated. He was snowed in, had chopped all the wood he could need, cleaned all the guns and the cabin... He had also read all of the books, magazines, and newspapers. So he opened up his laptop and started writing again, what he considered a nonsense short story about a man abandoned on a jungle planet as punishment. Three weeks later, after a bottle of tequila, he submitted it to a fiction magazine and promptly forgot he had done so. A month later, he had an acceptance letter and had to scramble for a pen-name. Since then, Lukas has been writing off and on as a supplement to his income and an outlet to some of his darker impulses. Five months ago, he applied to have his discharge upgraded to general. He’s not holding his breath but he’s hoping. Meanwhile, he watches the news about the godlings and waits.
» Personality:
As if to go against the saying about old dogs and new tricks, Ares seems to have learned a few things over time that have tempered his earlier personality. A little bit. Somewhat. Kind of.
Oh, who am I kidding? At his base, Lukas is still a very angry man. He has a deep well of fury and suppressed violence in him that even he can’t understand. It could be as simple as an anger management issue never dealt with properly but it is very certain that being Ares doesn’t help the situation. He gets annoyed easily and suffers fools not at all gladly. It is hard to predict what will set him off exactly, though there are a few hot button topics. Tragically, he has never learned to use words as full replacements to action and, when frustrated, he finds himself unable to articulate the issue. So he punches it. What really makes the situation worse, however, is that Lukas has a level of self-awareness that Ares never possessed before. In other words, the poor jerk knows that he’s an angry, violent, unreasonable asshole and most likely overreacting when he feels the need to punch you in the face. It’s just that he can’t quite seem to do anything about it beyond the knowing. So he is currently trying to work around that by living in the middle of nowhere as a virtual hermit and letting the nearest town think he is either the biggest nut ever or else a tragically broken man. He doesn’t care which so long as it keeps people at arm’s length which, in turn, lessens the chance that he might strangle someone. When he does have to go into town and interact, he does his best to be as polite as possible and he is very careful to not touch anyone more than necessary.
Unless you want to be touched because he’s cool with that, too. Hermity mountain man he may be, Lukas still has a need for the occasional bout of companionship - often in the form of a pretty lady. He also has a complete weakness for kids and will go out of his way to protect them even if he also scares the heebie jeebies out of them. He is not a gentle man or someone who can tell a pretty white lie to help a kid sleep better at night. On the other hand, he will rip the heart out of anyone who tries to take advantage of or hurt a child. He has no patience or sympathy for those who abuse or rape and deals with such things the same way he always has... He punches them. Hard and repeatedly.
On the other hand, beyond the rage, Lukas is actually surprisingly charismatic and, when not actively simmering, can play well with others. His extreme alpha-maleness translates into a level of respect from most and, if he finds you interesting, he can put some serious weight behind his attention that is very flattering. He has an infectious laugh and a wry sense of humor mixed with heavy sarcasm that stops just short of being personally nasty. His dark amusement is reserved for the world; you and everyone else are just travelers with him on the big blue marble. Of course, he also has a bad habit of being vulgar just for the sake of shock value but a quick observer will pick up the twinkle in his eye and his faint smirk to clue them in. Overall, Lukas presents himself to the world with a devil-may-care attitude that is usually interpreted as the epitome of self-assured and capable. While he is both of those things, the attitude is just another way for him to cope with his anger issues; if he tells you he doesn’t care, then it’s easier to pretend to himself that he doesn’t care. What can we say? He is not the most emotionally mature or even honest person around. He might know himself but he isn’t keen on you knowing him too well... If you want to pretend, though, it’s no skin off his nose.
Lukas is a mule-headed so and so and once he is set on a path it is nearly impossible to redirect him. That single-mindedness helped while living as a Ranger but it makes for more friction in the civilian world - yet another reason that he lives alone and runs his own business where he can boss his clients around with impunity. He pays close attention to the physical world but, due to his own tendencies, often misses the finer details of emotional cues. Unfortunately, when he does pick up on emotions, sometimes it is not to anyone’s benefit. He reacts instinctively - warmth to warmth, cold to cold. This means that he is a trust-worthy guy, unlikely to dissemble or fake his emotions. On the other hand, this also allows you to know when he is dismissing you completely. Lukas is particularly hard when it comes to perceived weakness, either in himself or others. He doesn’t know what to do with it and so he just refuses to tolerate it. He thinks quickly and is overflowing with practicality and street smarts. It goes a ways towards balancing out his disinterest in the more scholarly pursuits.
In short, he is a deep-down asshole but he is trying to avoid rubbing it in your face. That counts for something, right?
» Other Notes: Straight as a ruler, Lukas has never even thought of another guy as attractive (competent, yes; hot, no). He would not have a single clue how to react graciously to a man hitting on him.
A top level shooter, sniper certified. Adept at krav magra, wu shu, and jujitsu. Conned a Marine buddy into adequate training in MCMAP.
Can drive just about anything with wheels but is hopeless with flying machines and only somewhat better with water vehicles.
Has complete and well-thumbed collections of Louis L’Amours, Ian Flemings, and Ron E Howards.
» Sample Journal:
0600 is what I told them. I should have said that’s when the big hand is on the 12 and the little hand is on the 6 and it’s still a little bit dark out. That might have made things simpler for these pampered rich boys. Then again, I should have taken away their bullets and just taken them to the kids’ park and had them push each other on the swing set. It is a wonder that none of the idiots shot themselves. At least, when I take these sort of assholes out, I know Bambi and Thumper are safe. The only thing in danger out there is their wallet as I begin to charge extra for stupidity after the first 10 dumb questions.
» Sample Log:
Sitting on the edge of the sparse army-issue mattress, SSgt Lukas Volkov looked down at his hands. He saw them shaking, trembling, and closed them into careful fists. That stopped the worst of the tremors. On the other hand, it just reminded him of what he had done.
He grimaced and lowered his head to stare past his hands at the cold concrete floor. He was sunk. Completely and totally screwed. FUBAR with a capital F. Damn it. Nearly twenty-five years in service down the fucking drain. No hope of reprieve either thanks to that SOB in the office. Not that he had helped things by decking Collins.
He would be lucky if he escaped lock-up, let alone a court martial.
He felt the frustration boil up again and grit his teeth against it. Hot and cold sleeted over his skin and the increasingly familiar red haze slipped over his eyes. He wanted to hit something again, to tear things apart, but he knew it would just make his case worse. He tightened his fists until his knuckles went white.
SSgt Lukas Volkov, he thought, you’re going to burn for this.
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