#about luz

[witchscribed]

In fitting with canon, I just wanna clarify something.

My Luz is still proudly female. While she is canonically gender non-conforming, it doesn’t mean she’s necessarily rejecting her femininity, at least that’s how I’m interpreting it.

She’s a girl who wants to define what being a girl means to her. So she won’t “dress pretty” or “act properly” as society expects of her, and rejects the notions of phrases like “lady-like” and “proper woman”… she will however dress pretty because she wants to, as an example.

Just like Eda told her she has to be her own witch in Witches before Wizards, Luz is finding her own identity as a young woman, and being what she feels like that means for her, and not accepting what anyone else says about that.

Berrie is the same way, except she might be a little more exploratory on being either agender or gender-fluid… but she still generally uses she/her pronouns.

[witchscribed]

// I’m adopting it

// Luz is as much of a tuba virtuoso as a freshman in high school possibly could be.

// she enjoys how much people underestimate her abilities on such a large instrument because of her size. (If you’ve ever played tuba you know it needs a TON of air.)

// she lives for the shock factor

[dualityindarkness]

Headcanon: Cielo and Rayo

She'd be hard pressed to say anything to anyone, but sometimes being around the twins makes Luz just a tad bit uncomfortable. She loves them both, but she can't help but be reminded of Kelly--the friend she blinded back in Virginia--when she looks at them.

There's a deep guilt in her chest when she sees them when she's already feeling down.

[dualityindarkness]

Headcanon: Sunburn

Luz's mutation makes her skin less sensitive to the sun's damaging rays. For a ginger--and for anyone, really--she rarely gets sunburned; even after hours spent outside in the afternoons without any sort of protection from the sun.

Similarly, she's unable to get a tan.

[dualityindarkness]

Headcanon: Lightpainting

One of Luz’s favorite things to do at night when she can’t sleep is create little patterns in the air with light. With the amount of focus it takes her to create lasting streams of light in the air, she begins to forget whatever was occupying her mind and keeping her from sleeping. But it’s a trade off, because once she starts, she doesn’t stop until she’s too tired to keep her eyes open, or the lights lit. She will sit in the bed and just paint brightly lit patterns and pictures that tell stories until she nods off and the lights fade to nothing.

She’s yet to show anyone her hobby because while it’s useful to her for falling asleep, she doesn’t think it would be useful to anyone else.

[dualityindarkness]

Fear.

[What is it that my character is most afraid of when it comes to their own personal demons?]

She still fears one side of herself, and she likely always will, to a point. It doesn’t sit well with her, it doesn’t feel right, but then again it feels too right.

 And that’s what scares her.

 [Do they suffer from feelings of inadequacy, helplessness, worthlessness?]

Luz has her low moments. Sometimes those moments stretch out to days, weeks. So yes, in those times especially, Luz bears those burdens.

 [Do they fear change?]

Yes. But she also fears stagnation.

Change, to her, brings up memories of almost-hot, too bright, white light pouring out of her skin and eyes and hair. Change is blinding her best friend. Change is being kicked out of her home—her family—for being who she was born to be. Change is walking for miles and miles along the highway after running out of bus fare and half-hoping no one offers her a ride because she knows she’d take it.

But change is also approaching two strangers and not being able to make up her mind, choosing the both of them. Change is not having to sleep with her shoes on, ready to bolt. Change is lights strung up in her room because she finally has a room.

Without change, the hatred that mutants (and other groups of people) face on a daily basis will never go away. Viewpoints will never shift. She knows change is necessary, despite whatever fears she has.

 [Not having enough?]

She doesn’t want to go back to how it was when she was running—scraping by, just barely—but she doesn’t necessarily fear it. She knows now that she can manage that way for a while.

 [Being vulnerable?]

Luz does fear physical vulnerability; that’s why she was so eager to start training, that’s why she hasn’t left the mansion without tagging along with someone else.

Her scar still seems to hurt sometimes.

 [Mourn lost opportunities?]

She doesn’t exactly mourn missed opportunities, but she thinks about them a lot. She tries not to, but she does relive the past. She knows nothing can come of it, that nothing can change what happened, but Luz likes to run through ‘what if?’ scenarios at night when she can’t sleep.

[dualityindarkness]

Headcanon: Education

Luz only ever told one other family member—an aunt she thought she could trust—about her gifts and what had happened with her stepdad in hopes that she could stay with her and her kids until she was done with school.

The woman agreed not to tell anyone else, but she didn’t want Luz around her kids. That's when Luz left town. She never finished high school.

[dualityindarkness]

Headcanon: Affection

Luz came from a family that liked to show appreciation for each other with little gestures that used their talents. When her dad was still alive, he would make things for “his two best girls” out of wood: he’d whittle a little figurine for Luz, or build a new spice rack for his wife. Her mother would make a big deal out of fixing her husband’s favorite meals and sewing new clothes and quilts for her daughter. Little Luz would draw pictures that would hang proudly on the walls and the doors and the refrigerator until a new wave replaced the old ones.

Luz was the last one to stop.

When her father ended up in the hospital, Luz and her mother came by every day to see him, and her mother began to rely on store-bought meals. And every night at the same time, after they got home and sat and ate reheated mac and cheese, Luz would sit down and draw him a picture.

She drew them all together under starry skies, or at the beach, or at home. She drew her parents together in the park and sketched “Get Well Daddy” in big kindergarten letters on a card she made just for him, and she drew sunsets and boats and cars and the last figure he carved for her. She drew the dog they used to have and her friends and herself.

But he never got to see her last drawing.