LASKARIS, SIRIUS (WIP) Jul 9, 2015 18:07:13 GMT -5
Post by sirius on Jul 9, 2015 18:07:13 GMT -5
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Sirius Laskaris is a raging intellect hidden behind a somber exterior. He very rarely smiles or laughs and regards all situations with the utmost seriousness. He understands jokes but refuses to humor them. However, his demeanor is not exactly "sullen". There is nothing to suggest that he is upset or sulking; he is merely unemotional, preferring to keep a stoic face. The crux of the matter is that Sirius has a very limited emotional range and what he does feel emotionally he does not express. He remains on a tight leash of control, one that does not allow for little "mishaps" like outrageous emotional outbreaks. Those are simply unprofessional.
Had he been given the proper resources, Sirius would have become an unrivaled intellect. He is already more intelligent than average, absorbing information like a sponge. He watches and learns, largely self-taught in subjects such as mathematics, physics, and chemistry. He will read for hours if given the opportunity and often likes books more than people. Socially, he is inept. People regard him as too serious and sometimes awkward as he has a rather notorious habit of diverting the subject from himself. However, he is a selfless guardian and prides himself on his ability to take care of others. In fact, it is one of the reasons he has difficulty identifying as an individual. He cares too much about others, to the point that he loses himself, his interests, and ultimately his well-being.
Having lived a difficult life, it could be easily assumed that Sirius is afflicted by depression or self-pity. However, this is not the case. His past saddens him significantly at points but it is never enough to currently effect the quality of his life. He is remarkable in his inability to pity himself or feel remorse. He does what he can to the best of his ability and so long as a subject has seen closure he can live with the end results, no matter how horrible. Despite his stoicism and his seeming lack of interest in everything aside from knowledge, Sirius has a vivacious love of life and a need to continue. He is resilient in the face of abuse and hardships. Now in the Menagerie, Sirius has enormous potential to grow as an individual and perhaps take the life he loves so much a little less seriously.
It is 2286. The location is Athens, Greece. The month is unknown. The date is unknown. It is 2291.The location is Rio de Janeiro, Brazil in an underground breeding facility. It is 2298. The location is Detroit, Michigan, in the house of Brennan O'Conner. It is 2307. The location is the Menagerie.
Sirius Laskaris grew up with this: steel cages, white walls, rows of desk with children just like himself. They dressed the same. They ate the same things. They trained the same. They were born the same, merely to different parents.
Bruno Galleti ran this facility. He was a shapeshifter himself, twenty-one years before the invention of the Menagerie, he operated a small mockery of it. These children were shifters, animals like dogs and cats, nondescript things that could be both house pets and guards as they grew. His employees searched the world for shapeshifter children, kidnapping or blackmailing parents in order for their children to be taken to the "facility". It was at the state-of-the-art "facility" that Galleti trained these children. His plan was genius. They became guards that were rented out or sold to very wealthy individuals in need of protection.
Enter Sirius Laskaris, taken from his bed in Athens, Greece, from his parents, both shifters. He was five years old. The following seven years consist of hard training, of learning to forget the love of his mother, and adapt to the harsh climate he was raised in. He became accustomed to his surroundings, to the mindless, violent children he was surrounded with. He became accustomed to the harsh hands of his trainers and teachers, how they were not afraid to strike him if he went against their whims. At the age of eighteen, he was rented to a drug trafficker in league with Galleti. He was an American, living in Detroit, Michigan, but he had connections all over the North Americas and in some European countries.
With that being said, his range of crime was a broad one, from human trafficking to the drugs he dealt with so readily. He rented Sirius Laskaris and a boy named Amaro Ramiro--who was actually a close friend of Sirius--due to the fact he knew Galleti well, and he suggested that he have some form of "protection" against enemies and unruly clientele. Thus, Sirius was branded and driven away from the hellhole he had been born in for the first time, seeing the beaches and the people, following in the footsteps of his new master, Brennan Smith. He was trained to be a dog, and that's the form he took, strapped to a leash aside Amaro Ramiro.
The paperwork it took to get them onto the plane was ridiculous, and yet, they arrived to Detroit some time later, shaky and uncertain. A new chapter in his life began, one of intense training. Brennan hired men to work with the "children", to teach them defensive and offensive tactics, to kill a man with their hands or with their jaws. It was training that they had already gone through, and Brennan was pleased to discover that they had an extensive knowledge of combatants. The drug dealer became notorious for being followed by a savage, rangy looking Malinois and a large Beauceron. It is needless to say, however, that Brennan was not always a kind owner.
On the contrary, there were two sides of him. He was all at once a charismatic con man, capable of wooing even the most stoic, much less Sirus, who was trained to obey him, beaten into him the belief that he was merely a dog. It was this side of him that would smile at his "boys", or if they were in their dog forms, play with them. He allowed them to lounge on his couches and greet his guest's with smiles rather than teeth. But the other side of him was much darker, red-eyed and sleepless, with a penchant for violence and whiskey on the rocks. You have to believe that Sirius grew to love him, however. No matter how many times the man raised his hand against him, Sirius loved him. It was blind faith, devotion. It was because Brennan was also the only man in Sirius life who, aside from Amaro, ever showed him kindness.
As it was, he could not stand to see him abuse his dear, dear friend, Amaro Ramiro. It was why that, when this occurred, Sirius would intervene. It turns out he loved too much, and too deeply. He could not remain detached, as Amaro had. He cares too much about both Brennan and Amaro and it was his love for these two that destroyed him. He could not stand to see either frustrated, or in pain, which is the reason he took the brunt of all of Brennan's abuse. It is why that, when Amaro dreamed of freedom, he would paint him pictures of fabulous stories he remembered from those scarce years of his childhood. The two of them were inseparable. They were constantly reacting to one another, sometimes unconsciously, sometimes intentionally--one would begin a sentence, the other would finish it.
As they became more experienced and spent longer in the house, Brennan became more and more free with his hands. It was Sirius he favored, however. It was Sirius he began to take to his bed, rather than the "cheap whores", as he came to call the women or men that would drape themselves around him whenever he met with some of his clientele. He said that Sirius was handsome, a sculpture in the making, but all Sirius would do is stand or react rigidly to Brennan's advances, taking what would come. Sometimes this infuriated him. Sometimes he hit Talos, in an attempt to get some sort of response, and then he would profusely apologize. Sometimes, Brennan did that--he apologized. He was good man who had become wretched in his line of work. Sirius saw only the good in men, never the bad, and that is why he never hated Brennan despite all of his neglect.
His first four years of work passed wildly like this. Amaro dreamed of freedom, Sirius of pleasing his master. The two of them contrasted strangely, and Sirius realized that he loved Amaro too late. Loved him not like a friend or brother in arms, but loved him. Brennan was becoming increasingly in danger, and the times Talos and Amaro had to defended him became more and more frequent. One night Brennan went to meet with a man named Ricardo De Morte, his two trusted companions by his side, and Ricardo pulled out a gun. Brennan had stepped too far into the world of crime, had messed with the wrong people, killed of one of "Ricky's" guys. You didn't do that.
He pulled out a gun, and shot Brennan with a cigarette in his mouth. He pulled out a gun, shot Amaro in the side as the Beauceron lunged. Sirius's body changed from a dog to a man, and he leaped for Brennan's fallen pistol, pulled it up, and bang. Ricardo fell, clutching his side, but he had guards as surely as Brennan did. The last thing Talos remembers is staring up into the barrel of a gun--
He woke up back in Galleti's care. It was not two months later that he was rented out to another wealthy bidder, this time in San Francisco. The instructions were clear for him to stay primarily in his human form.
- - - - -
"Who the hell are you?" Sirius said nothing, merely regarded the petite female. He knew better than to speak. Mr. Sterling entered and his daughter nearly bowled him over. Sirius watched the situation with impassive eyes, reading it, gauging the situation and the nature of his new assignment. Oh, this would be hell. He crossed his arms over his chest and listened to the argument. She was spoiled, spoiled rotten...
His job suddenly became babysitting. Sirius did not mind so much, if only due to the fact that it made it more difficult for him to get attached. Now he had to ensure that this girl stayed out of trouble. He thought that it would be easy and in many respects it was. He didn't have to worry about people shooting her, or stalking her, or killing her... not that he didn't stop watching for those things.
Now he had to worry about her hurting herself. Within the first week he realized that she was not simply a spoiled brat. It was when they were still testing the boundaries of their relationship and his job when Sirius walked into her bedroom to see her half-naked with a young man. A bottle of liquor lay on the bed beside them and he could smell the sweat and alcohol from the door. "Get out," Sirius ordered. The young man took one look at the hulking, sullen figure in the doorway before scrounging up his clothing and running awkwardly past Sirius, half-naked. He then grabbed the bottle of alcohol and poured it out in the drain. The entire time Miss Sterling was protesting, of course, angrily. She went so far as to beat her fists against his chest when he turned.
He grabbed them sternly. "Miss Sterling. I will bring you water shortly, and that Italian dish that your maid has told me you love." He did not raise his voice. He did not regard her with judgmental eyes. He released her hands and left to do exactly as he had said. He did not enter her room a second time but placed the procured items on a trey at the foot of her door. He knocked, and left it there.
She was not a spoiled brat. Sirius began to watch her. She did not ask for much from her parents aside from their attention, which they never gave. She wanted them, not their money. He watched her talk to shallow people, he watched her struggle to find attention that could compensate for her lack of it elsewhere. Her behavior began to paint a vivid portrait for him and it was a welcomed distraction from his own sorrows. Sirius realized that she must have been like this her entire life, including her childhood. Even in Galleti's care Sirius had rarely felt lonely. There had always been other children, and some of the trainers had been kinder, almost father-like. She never had that. The photographs that surrounded the house were primarily of Mrs. and Mr. Sterling. Sirius searched for weeks to find a family portrait in which Miss Sterling appeared happy, only to find none.
So he began to take her to the diner. He got tired of seeing this girl behave so self-destructively. He did not like feeling as though he were only aiding in her self-destruction by allowing her to go to clubs with her friends, or go drink at a friend's house. He was doing as he had been ordered by Mr. Sterling... but he was not doing right by his conscience. He never pressured for conversation when they went to the diner, but he began to discuss her schooling with her, and find topics that she enjoyed. They exchanged books and television shows. He watched anime so long as she read his favorite books and for a while things were improving for Miss Sterling.
Then the Riots of San Francisco began. He had to protect Miss Sterling. They had been at the diner when it all occurred. Sirius went outside for just a moment in order to investigate the uproar. And suddenly he was faced with a horrific sight of shapeshifters fighting law enforcement, people being shot and beaten into submission, animals running panicked through the tangled legs of people. His eyes seized on a beauceron that was just about to be beaten with a baton--and all he could think of was Amaro.
He had been trained to remain calm in hectic situations. He had been trained to always remain with his assignment, his priority. But in that moment he could not. He ran headlong into the fray and roughly shoved the police officer off of the dog, which quickly ran--his mind became white with pain, nothing but pain, and suddenly he was thrashing and reacting to the people who were hurting him. He had a very clear thought in the middle of it all. Miss Sterling. He heard her voice and then he saw her through the hot, wet blood that ran into his eyes. "Stop fighting!" he screamed at her. "Stop, they'll hurt you!" He was blind to the danger he himself was in. As the baton came cracking down Miss Sterling escaped and threw herself atop of him--
"Dulcy!" It was the first time he had ever called her by name and already she was fading from consciousness. It was chaos. He lashed out at his nearest attacker, the one who had knocked Miss Sterling unconscious. He heard the satisfying snapping of a bone as Sirius wrenched the man's arm at an angle it didn't belong. He continued to fight, thinking only of making an opening in order to get Miss Sterling to safety, when a man approached from behind and hit Sirius solidly in the head.
- - - - -
Sirius was sick in waking up in unfamiliar places. It took him a moment to realize that it was not unfamiliar. It was the same enclosure that he had been held in as a child--he could tell due to the markings on the floor where, at ten years old, he had laid as a dog and dragged his nails against the concrete until they cracked and bled. The furrows were still there.
He was back where he had begun. It was hours before Galleti decided to pay a visit. Sirius had been given medical attention and he sat on the edge of his cot, staring at the ground, thinking of his failure. "I've decided," Galleti began. "That you must be bad luck. You had one of my best business partners killed a few years ago, as well as one of my best guards. You couldn't even protect a little girl from a riot." Galleti scoffed and shook his head. "We're going to have to work on re-training you. No one wants to rent a defective guard."
Sirius didn't even stir. They had been told since they were children that defective guard's had one purpose, and that was to become pig fodder. Galleti didn't have room in his budget to feed a failure. "The first lesson... do you remember the first lesson?'
"Obedience," Sirius replied, mechanically. He heard the door open and Galleti enter.
"And the second lesson?" Galleti was standing directly in front of Sirius now.
"Discipline," came the dutiful retort.
"We are going to revisit them." It was then that Galleti's brass knuckles cracked across Sirius's face and all he saw were stars. At least this pain was familiar, however, in comparison to the ache and throb inside his heart.
- - - - -
Galleti spent close to a year attempting to "retrain" Sirius. The method that Galleti had always used was fear. The children had been so young that all they wanted was life; they were feral in that regard. Now Sirius did not have that fear, because he had no fear of death or failure. He had lost all that was dear to him and forsaken the one rule that Galleti had told him never to break--to not become attached to clientele. Sirius had known for certain that Brennan and Amaro were dead; he had no need to pine for them. But he did not know what state Miss Sterling could possibly be in. He obsessed over her condition.
The Belgian Malinois is a very intense dog breed. They are often one-owner dogs, as in they do not work well with more than one person. This was what was occurring in the case of Sirius. He had lost his passion to protect and Galleti could see it. He realized that any assignment Sirius was given would be done casually, without true alertness. Sirius worked for his people. Galleti struggled with deciding how to deal with the problem. Sirius could not be retrained. He was listless.
By the time Miss Sterling approached him, Galleti had signed Sirius up for his death-bed. He had become useless. It did not take much haggling in order for Galleti to receive a generous sum of cash and he lost no profit by forking up a broken dog. Sirius was returned to Miss Sterling. It was through her that he again found purpose. She was alive. She was well. He could protect her better now--
From everything except for UNIT. When blood tests became legal without consent, Miss Sterling was one of the first to go. She told Sirius not to fight... but he couldn't watch her be taken. It was a span of several seconds in which he realized that he could not save her from this but he could, at least, follow her. He shapeshifted on spot and attacked one of the UNIT men apprehending her. They were separated shortly after, however, and Sirius has yet to find her in the Menagerie.