lev. • bodyclaim. • headcanons. • isms. • threads.
BASIC INFO
full name — Lev Storm Rojas age — forty-five (october 30) gender — cis male, (he/ him/ his pronouns) orientation — homosexual occupation — former soldier gone private security deity connection — poseidon horse name — stormrazor weapon — spear + scale armor clothing style / armor — casual, functional, fitting / scale armor
PHYSICAL INFO
face claim — Pedro Pascal hair — brown / eyes — brown height — five foot & eleven inches build — kinda like a T, broad af shoulders, muscled torso, slutty waist (it be thin ok), tho he has decently thick thighs, too but not insanely so as his focus in training is topside scars — a faint one across the bridge of his nose, another faint one down the left side of his cheek, a few on his back and chest, a circle on his thigh from a tracker he cut out and eight long/semi-long scarred stripes across his back - all huddled up randomly across his lower back tattoos — a paw on the back of each thigh, date of when he signed up with the army because re-birthday, special ops insignia on his lower back to cover up scars, the us army insignia on his chest - left side above his ribcage piercings — he had a lip ring, but army forbid him to keep wearing it, so it’s a distant reminder, but also the reason he has no piercings special characteristics — he's quiet and grumpy when he doesn't get to throw punches for a while. sexual preference — bottom switch
PERSONALITY
alignment — true neutral positive traits — protective, loyal, strong-willed negative traits — callous, short-tempered, stubborn hobbies — training sessions (both to improve + strengthen control on his urges), judging others
MEDICAL INFO
mental — ptsd, disruptive mood dysregulation disorder (dmdd), love (romantic or platonic) is a myth and shall be violently fought physical — was his by a shrapnel cluster after an explosion, but no lasting effects unless you can see inside his abdomen phobias — claustrophobia, pisantrophia eyesight — 20/20 although avrae tends to disagree dominant hand — left hand drug use — nop alcohol use — nop diet — health nut galore, although due to his strict schedule + workout sessions, he does eat food that’s not the most nutritious - like white bread etc.
BACKGROUND
birthplace — san antonio, TX parents — Victoria Rojas (biological mother probably) & Ramon Ortega (step-father) & Poseidon (biological father) fuck them all tho. siblings — half siblings due to poseidon being his father, but otherwise n/a pets — storm, his lil’ horsie education — high school graduate notable skills — very disciplined, impeccable aim with guns and hatchets, close combat, krav maga, determination to address everybody 30 and younger kid
BIO
(child abuse tw)
Love is more than a feeling - it’s a choice.
Everybody has to make that choice for themselves, some daily - some weekly. Some decided to never choose at all, but Lev understood early on that his father had chosen not to love him. No, it wasn’t just that. He’d chosen to despise him, which weighed much heavier on a child’s heart than a simple lack of parental affection. But then again, love never really had been part of Ramon Ortega’s own personal little dictionary. Maybe once upon a time he felt something for Lev’s mother, but whatever that feeling had been - Lev doubted it’d been love even back then, it died when Victoria Rojas found out she was pregnant.
One would think both parents lived happily ever after when they found out God had blessed them with a child after years of trying, but no… not this time. Not Ramon and Victoria. The reason for that was … uncomfortable for all parties involved and yet somewhat amusing. Ramon was not a good man, never had been. Rumor has it he was born with a knife in his hands. Nonsense, but .. not untrue. He had no love in him, for nobody - probably not even himself. So when his wife announced she was six months pregnant, when Ramon had not set a foot out of jail in over two years, one might suspect … unfair play. It wasn’t .. that, per se, but it also was. Victoria hadn’t been happy with Ramon in years, had only stayed with him because she was afraid of the repercussions if she tried to leave her violently abusive husband’s side, so when a handsome stranger began to give her attention and affection, who could blame her for falling for him? Right? Ramon sure did.
Lev was born at home, with only his mother and a friend nearby - the longest night Victoria ever had, but it all went well. He was born healthy, happy - at least for a few months and it could’ve been even better than that, but despite Ramon’s rather vehement urging, she decided to raise her son herself instead of giving him up for adoption. She didn’t want him to land in the system. So close, yet so far. He knew that, in hindsight, she regretted her decision, but never quite found bravery within her to admit as much. And Ramon? Oh, he made sure to let the boy that wasn’t his blood know he was merely tolerated in his own home.
Growing up and being told over and over again that you never should’ve been born, that you were wrong and that the world would be better off without you …. did quite a bit to a child’s psyche. Some would retreat, some would falter, some would hide within themselves. And then … there were those kids like Lev. Those who lashed out. At everything. Everybody. But most of all other kids. In kindergarten he was deemed a wild child, scolded and sent home with a letter for his loving parents, who - in response locked him in his room, or - when the caretakers demanded either of his parents come in for a chat, his closet. Ramon believed in violence, so that’s what Lev thought was a natural way to react to .. everything.
Life didn’t get better in school. Not for a while at least. Ramon refused to accept Lev as his son, despite the obvious similarities in characteristics ~~(the violence)~~, his mother was too afraid to step in, so life continued as was, only that - with Lev growing older and therefore more violent in nature, Ramon decided it was time to discipline his son and teach him the respect he was lacking - according to him. Safe to say a belt, or fists did not fix Lev’s anger management issues. Neither did the School Therapist, though mostly because Lev refused to speak. He did so, generally. Be it in school, at home, anywhere. He wasn’t much of a talker, though until he was expected to express himself in school .. nobody ever really noticed, or cared. Most of the boy’s life had been fantasy in his own mind, words weren’t needed for that. His mind .. was quite demanding in general, always running high, pondering every decision he made, wondering if it had been the right one after all.
Split lips, bruises.. he’d had plenty of those, but when he literally broke his hand on another kid’s face, authorities were alerted for the first time, but nothing came of it. It was written off as ADHD, a lack of impulse control and he’d have to see the Therapist once a week. None of that helped. It did, though, put him on someone else’s radar. Several “someones” actually. One being his biological father, Poseidon. The others .. were less gentle in nature towards him. He’d meet them before he met his father, yet both at.. together. Lev didn’t spend much time at home ever since he started school, the fact he walked to school and back on his own gave him freedom he’d never experienced before. Instead of going home, he’d spend the afternoons outside, wandering, stealing, picking fights until a fight picked him. He almost died that day, but found himself saved by a man claiming to be his father, which - one would rightly assume, didn’t go over too well. In fact, it wasn’t his father who saved his life, it was .. himself. Left to bleed out in a puddle from heavy rains earlier that day, Lev found his wounds healing - in front of his own eyes, quickly. His father did take down those who inflicted the wounds upon him in the first place, though … he’d give him that.
Eight years old and finally life made sense. The disdain, that feeling of being a stranger in his own home, the why. It made so much sense it hurt and yet it opened a door Lev didn’t know existed. Summer Camp, Poseidon called it. Ramon was happy to get rid of the little menace the world believed his son, so he’d be sent to Camp Halfblood every summer and it was there that Lev learned what life could be like without total isolation. Admittedly… his short-temper and rage still posed a big problem, but they had ways to deal with him at Camp and … honestly? Being away from home for an extended duration did wonders to Lev’s psyche. The only issue was that when he returned home, back into that nightmare he almost forgot over the summer … it’d hit twice as hard, but at least he had something to look forward to…. right?
The summer of his seventeenth birthday, Lev decided he wouldn’t go home anymore. He was almost old enough to move out, though college surely wasn’t an option. Lev wasn’t stupid per se, but school was a boring hassle he didn’t feel like dealing with as much as he should have. At Camp they attempted to train him in using his powers, but ever since that one time he used it to defend himself, ... Lev hadn't been able to summon his father's powers again.
Faced with a crippling lack of talent, it didn’t take long for Lev to find himself craving something else. More than Camp, more than failing. He'd had enough of that for a lifetime. The anger and lack of control was just as big an issue as doubts spreading about Lev's apparent heritage. A son of Poseidon with no control over water? Unlikely. But Lev ... believed it. Army it was. If he ever found out he had powers, he might as well go back to learn how to control them. Controlling his powers would do him no good when he couldn’t fight for shit. And honestly, whatever rage-fueled smashing he’d called fighting as he grew up… didn’t cut it. It lacked pretty much everything, so .. mostly to satisfy his own need for perfection, but also to spite all those who wanted to see him fail, Ramon mostly, he trained almost religiously. When he left Camp Halfblood on his nineteenth birthday, he enlisted in the Army.
Fast forward to the end of that adventure. Safe to say the Army did him well. The discipline Ramon failed to teach him… came (almost) naturally in a controlled environment, or maybe it’d just come to him easier with Camp Halfblood’s influence still lodged firmly in the back of his head. Lev.. saw much during those years death, blood, experienced loss. He got the whole shebang, but made it out mostly unscathed himself. Physically anyway, but then again there wasn’t much more to mess with on that end. Whenever he left Camp Halfblood, he’d been warned about the dangers outside, yet … in all the years in the army.. the worst he saw was suicide bombers. Maybe he actually had been lucky, for the first time in his life. Or someone had kept an eye on him after all and Lev just hadn't noticed.
After a long-term almost-relationship with his superior (Jonathan Campbell), Lev spontaneously quit the Army to escape a potentially serious relationship with him, because Lev didn't want to hear any of that. Back home, Lev found himself in a world he knew even less than before, but he found work in Security and .. he tried to live life as normally as possible.
Love is more than a feeling - it’s a choice.
Lev chose not to love, ever. He chose eternal solitude. Partially because he didn’t know how to love, but also because he knew that any child he might sire would grow up the way he did. Alone, lost, afraid, angry. ~~ And then he found out early on, suppressed or not, that he had absolutely zero interest in women. ~~ Lev knew he was better off alone. Happy? Overstatement, but he was content. He managed to avoid danger, or maybe Cyclops’ and other monsters he’d spent his school years terrified off didn’t like nightclubs. Or maybe they simply weren’t impressed by his lack of interest in his powers, because once he left the Camp, one could say Lev forgot he even had them.
Or maybe he was just ridiculously lucky and managed to avoid any and all danger .. by throwing himself face-first into it in other places.
The dreams…caught him off-guard the first few nights, but Lev was impeccable at ignoring everything he didn’t want to bother with. He’d not been in Camp… in half a lifetime, he wouldn’t return now. Why should he? He was doing fine on his own. Alone. And yet, they kept coming back. Every. Single. Night. Some nights they even kept him awake and then, some.. he woke up feeling .. stressed. Talk about a good night’s sleep and feeling refreshed in the morning. He held out …for weeks, but even the most stubborn mind needed its peace every now and then.
He might as well check it out. Right? He’d tell them to leave him the fuck alone and go back to life as it was.
