Post by Finnick Radke on Feb 26, 2013 16:55:22 GMT -5
Finn, or Finnick Bailer Radke (Bay-ler Rad-key)
Seventeen, junior, born May 7th
Lacrosse
Works at Dino's Pizzario
Appearance~
Finn is a tall, lanky fellow, standing at 6'2". He has a very slim build, but he's not particularly a twig.. so to say. He has broad shoulders and a proportionate muscle tone. The kid isn't very tan, but he's not a ghost either. Everything about him in just pretty natural. He stays skinny because of his high metabolism and being on the lacrosse team really helps with the muscle. It's kind of a win win situation.
His smile is one in a million. It's big and goofy like him and his personality, and he's always getting compliments. However, they usually end with, "You should smile more." Finn has giant, inviting blue eyes that normally have kind of a distant feel when you look at them. Thin eye brows, full lips and a slender nose. But his jaw.. his jaw was carved by the gods.
Generally he's wearing anything that's clean. He doesn't really care if it matches, just as long as it smells good. Finn owns countless long sleeved shirts and sweats, and also a few pairs of straight cut and skinny jeans. He has maybe two or three formal suits tucked away somewhere, but those are for a rainy day.
Personality~
Finn is a little timid of the world but he's learning that not everything is bad and it's better when you have friends around. He's weary of new people, but I promise, he'll warm up pretty quick. When he does start to come out of his little protective ball, Finn can be quite the clown.
He's always looking for a way to make someone's day better. He rarely argues because he hates seeing people fight, especially with him. He's always looking for a bird with a broken wing to take under his wing because in his mind, two broken people are the best healing remedies for each other. He's not selfish with that, but seeing other people grow stronger helps him to do the same.
He's definitely a lover, not a fighter. Even though he can come off as standoffish upon first contact, or aggressive during lacrosse but that's an aggressive sport anyway so woohoo. He's a pretty simple guy, easy to get along with, and one of the people you can come to for advice or a shoulder or a helping hand.
Extra Stuff~
Lives with his mom and little brother, not on campus. His favorite bands are Fink, City In Colour and Casiotone For The Painfully Alone, haven't heard them? Go listen <3 He's makes a lot of mix tapes and is all about finding cool new bands.
He doesn't smoke or drink, but he'll go to a party just to go. Y'know, be social or whatever. He owns his own vehicle that he worked very hard to get. It's not much, but it gets him from a to b without any problems. He's on a few different medications, but his Xanax is the most important one that he takes to help with his anxiety, depression and panic attacks.
If you want to know why he is the way he is, you'll have to read his story :c
Story Time~
A Broken Wing by Finnick Radke
People tell me to smile more. They say my smile makes their day better or makes them forget their problems. Sometimes I wonder if they ever stop and think 'what's he got to hide?' And to that almost always answer 'nothing.' But there is something.. lots of things. Things I don't talk about. Things I want to forget.
When I was seven, my life took a strange turn down a really beaten path that I wish I had missed. My parents weren't ones to fight, yell, or even really bicker at all. They seemed to have a really loving relationship and they loved me and my brother like it was no one's business.
One night when my mom was working late, my dad came home smelling like smoke and he reeked of alcohol. He told me that he had a present for me but I could only have it if I didn't tell Mom. I remember that I eagerly nodded my head and asked to see it. My dad sat me down on the couch and took a seat next to me.. I don't really remember where Parker was, but that was the first time he touched me.
I didn't tell my mom or brother because he said that it was our little secret and everything was okay. I was too young to realize what was going on, so I assumed that it was okay even though I didn't like it and it made me feel weird. A few months had past and nothing else had happened, I figured things were just going to go back to how they were. And they did, as far as my parents went. I stayed quiet and they remained happy.
One morning when I was nine, I remember waking up and could hear a ruffling noise in Parker's room and knew that I had to protect him. I hurried to him and wasn't really surprised to see our dad's hand raised and my brother's face swollen and red, tears streaking his cheeks. As he went for another hit, I raced to hold his arm back and told Parker to get out of there. I assumed he ran to a friend's house or something because he wasn't in the house once I came to. Mom had brought him home later that night, mad at his 'friend' who had tried to pick a fight. I'm just glad that our dad didn't mess with him any more after that, just me.
The sexual, physical and mental abuse continued for four more long years, until I turned thirteen. My mom started to notice my major mood swings every time it would happen and how angry I was starting to become. When she asked about it, I told her I was just stressed about starting high school. She believed me.
The night that pushed me to my limits was a night that my mom went out for her monthly 'girl's night.' The moment she left, I locked myself in my room. I knew what was coming. Not even thirty minutes had passed of me staring at my door and wishing she would be home already, my dad came knocking. When I wouldn't unlock it, he tried to push his way in and then got the bright idea to get the key. I made Parker hide in my closet. I didn't want him to see.
I heard him unlocking it and ran to push my weight against the door. It was maybe a ten second battle between father and son, one trying to get in, the other trying to protect himself. My dad won. He busted me out of the way which had sent me crashing to the ground. I was quick to get to my feet but he was much quicker. He yanked me to my feet by the front of my shirt and tossed me around like a child's play thing.
I didn't even bother to scream or fight back because I already knew that it would be pointless. My dad, the man I looked up to my whole life was a sick, sadistic pervert. I heard his belt and zipper which was different from all the other times. He drug me closer and ripped my jeans from my body and rolled me onto my stomach with hardly any effort.
I went to my hiding place inside my mind. It was a peaceful place where only I existed. As soon as I could feel a sudden pain, I could hear my mom's voice and could feel her ripping my dad off of me. That night, we stayed in a motel. We lived with her sister for two months while she waited for the court date.
Long story short, my parents divorced, my dad got two years in the state prison and my mom moved us away from him. We moved six hours north of my childhood home, but we still have to see him every other weekend. He doesn't really try anything anymore, but he never ceases from beating on me. He says that it's my fault that his marriage ended and my fault that he was raped in prison. I never have the guts to tell him that that is exactly what he deserves. I blame the bruises on lacrosse, and that's the only story you know.
