Uriah Hart | Criminal ●

[Uriah Hart]

Name: Uriah Augustus Hart Age: 24 Gender: Male Sexuality: Pansexual Faction: Criminal Occupation: Architectural Designer Playby: La Storia Della Arcana Famiglia, pace Traits Positive Convivial Creative Modest Persistent Romantic Versatile Willing Negative Masochistic Highly Hedonistic Easily Manipulated People Pleaser Unstable Cynical Cruelly Detached Someday, for sure, I promise \o/ History Uriah was the product of a loveless arranged marriage. His father’s family was extremely wealthy (though if any light had ever been shed on how that money had been gathered, they would likely all go to prison), and they didn’t want their money going to “just anyone”. His father was the first born and the only child, so therefore he was to be the inheritor of the family’s wealth. The marriage was arranged between him and the daughter of one of the family’s “business competitors”. It was supposed to erase all the bad blood between the families, it was supposed to be something beautiful, it was supposed to fix things. The biggest flaw in this plan was that, much like himself, Uriah’s mother and father were both extremely unstable. They were never diagnosed with any mental disorders (seeing a therapist would bring shame on the family), but it was clear to anyone who spent any amount of time around them that they had some very real problems. The problem that clashed the most was that they were both highly volatile. Not even a month into the marriage, Alexis was hospitalized after Dominik pushed her down a large flight of stairs in their home. The incident was hushed up, and it was also revealed that Alexis was about a month pregnant – the fall didn’t seem to have hurt the fetus, thankfully. If anyone believed the pregnancy would fix their relationship, well, they were as wrong as everyone else with that line of thinking. The hormones only increased Alexis’s volatile nature, and they made her even more unreasonable. Dominik wasn’t anywhere near close to being able to mentally handle her, and after another incident where the fetus was endangered, Alexis’s family sent her to a villa in Rome with two of her sisters for the rest of the pregnancy. Doubtlessly Dominik cheated on her more times than you could count on all of your fingers while she was gone, but at least the baby was safe… right? Alexis enjoyed her time in Rome, though. She didn’t care if Dominik was cheating, she didn’t give a damn what he did. She went to the beaches with her sisters, and she may have had a bit of fun herself despite her condition. Either way, after the months passed, Alexis went into labor. For her first birth, things went smoothly enough. Uriah was born after ten hours, and since Dominik wasn’t around to voice his opinion, the baby was named after his grandfather on his mother’s side instead of after Dominik’s uncle like they had planned. Alexis even went as far as to make his second name after her eldest brother, excluding every part of Dominik’s family’s names entirely. The Harts were furious, taking this a personal slight. They moved to annul the marriage or get a divorce, but Alexis’s family warned that it “would be an insult not soon forgotten.” The families argued back and forth until Uriah was two years old, with the Harts finally insisting that the baby who looked so like his mother couldn’t belong to their son anyway. They demanded a paternity test, and the families came to the agreement that if Uriah didn’t belong to Dominik, the marriage could be ended with no insult. Quite unfortunately, however, Uriah absolutely belonged to his father. In his two years of life, the boy had already seen more violence than anyone ever should. He’d seen bloody fights between his parents, watched his father bust a man’s head with a baseball bat, and other things besides. While he has no memories of these incidents, the violence has surely stuck with him throughout his entire life. And it’s not like it would stop as he aged, quite the opposite really. As his parents’ hatred for each other grew, their violence toward one another did as well. His entire childhood was basically just a blur of screaming fights that escalated into bloody fights. He would somehow gain three new siblings before he reached ten years of age. Only one, the youngest, would belong to both of his parents. Another, a boy of eight, belonged to his father and some random woman. She ended up dying, and his father had to "care" for the boy. The other, a girl of six, belonged to his mother and some Italian man she met on vacation. Uriah was not the big brother that he should have been. He had already grown used to the screaming and the fighting, he had already learned how to block it out. His brother Markus, who hadn’t joined the family until he was seven, was constantly shrieking and crying. His sister Annabella kept trying to get between the fights, and ended up severely injured on one occasion because of it. After that, she stayed with her grandparents mostly. His youngest sister, a girl of five, tended to hide in closets and cry when their parents were fighting. As far as Uriah was concerned, Gabriela was the least annoying out of all of them. He was happy when Annabella left, and he was hoping that Markus would get taken away sometime soon as well. He didn’t understand why they had to be such babies. He didn’t understand that deadpanning and going into a different world every time his parents started screaming wasn’t exactly normal, though it was an understandable coping mechanism to be sure. Nothing very interesting (as far as he was concerned) would happen until he was about thirteen. All of his siblings, save for Annabella, still lived in the house, and he did well enough in school. He excelled in art classes, which his father assured him were useless, right before he back-handed him to the floor. He couldn’t tell you the exact moment that he became an object of his father’s abuse (and his mother’s narcissistic emotional abuse), but he simply handled it the best he could and moved on. He was numb to it, even when it was happening to him. However, something would happen to shake things up "a bit". His mother and father would get into a fight, pretty normal. Markus and Gabriela insisted on coming into his room and crying and being the annoying little shits that they tended to be. It would be his mother’s shriek that alerted him to the fact that something was different this time. A morbid curiosity, more than anything, was what drove him to his parents’ bedroom. What he found there was enough to concern him, and that was saying something, really. His father had his mother dangling by nothing but her nightdress over the balcony. He took two steps forward, he can still remember it, remember everything. He can remember the way the room smelled, like his mother had just run her bath for the evening – the scents of the bath salts and oils clogging up his nostrils. He can still see that half-crazed look on his father’s face, the bead of sweat that dripped down the end of his nose, the way he swayed slightly, drunk. He can remember the exact look his mother gave him when she realized he was there, he can see it perfectly when he closes his eyes sometimes. What he remembers most of all was how loud it sounded when that nightdress ripped, his mother’s scream cut short as she splattered on the ground below. Then silence. Horrible, deafening silence, and the knowledge that his mother was dead or soon would be. His father gaped for a moment, like he couldn’t believe what had happened. And then, he turned, seemingly only just realizing that his eldest son had witnessed the murder of his mother. Uriah knew he needed to run. He turned from the room, stumbling slightly as he made the sharp turn into the hallway. His father chased him, and in some kind of mess of limbs, he ended up forcefully tumbling down the very stairs that had alerted his parents to his life those fourteen years ago. The pain in his right arm and leg was unlike any he’d ever experienced before, more than he could bare. His lips parted, and that horrible inhuman sound escaped them. His siblings ran from his room, only to be shoved back in by their father. The man descended the stairs, but there was nothing Uriah could do to escape him. Dominik then proceeded to grab his broken leg and twist it, causing another of those screams to escape him. He may have passed out temporarily, he can’t remember, really. What he can remember was the way his father snarled the story of what had happened into his ear as he twisted his leg, the way he screamed and promised to tell it and get it right – anything to make the pain stop. And so, the story the police were told when they were called not very long after was this: his mother had been acting funny for about a week. She kept trying to give him her things, even things he couldn’t use like her clothes or hair products. He had been on his way to the bathroom when he noticed something strange going on his parents’ room out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look, and witnessed his mother and father struggling on the balcony. His father was trying to pull her back in, but she wiggled away. In a desperate attempt, he grabbed her nightdress. The dress ripped in his hand, and the woman toppled over the railing. In Uriah’s haste to get to a phone, he accidentally tripped and fell down the stairs. His siblings backed up the story, and without much investigation, the case was closed as suicide. Of course, no one in either of the families believed it, but a murder would tarnish their reputations far more than a suicide, so they remained silent. Uriah’s recovery was a long and painful process, even with the best doctors money could buy. His siblings tended to him hand and foot, though. Perhaps if he wasn’t already so warped by the abuse he would have recognized they loved him, and were taking care of him for that reason. But it never even occurred to him to question their intentions, and he simply accepted it with the same numbness he accepted everything else. His father’s abuse continued even before he was fully recovered, and trying to explain the bruises to the doctors started getting more and more awkward. Eventually, though, he would heal. He has a long scar down his right forearm where a metal rod had to be inserted, and another down his left shin as well. The scars are straight, pale pink, pretty as far as scars go. Eventually his sister Gabriela would plead with her grandparents to send her overseas for school, and they obliged, terrified that another death would not be so easily overlooked. They offered to send Uriah as well, but he refused. He claimed to see no reason to leave; his mother’s death had been a terrible accident. His brother Markus, bastard as he was, was given no such offers. No kind of kinship or brotherly love would develop between them as they both endured his father’s abuse, though Uriah got the most of it for looking like his mother and for his “goddamned name.” At some point, though, Uriah would no longer be numb to the pain. No, it was almost as though he had learned to like it. Somehow, his mind had finally twisted the abuse into something he could make sense of. It was just how his father expressed love. The fact that Dominik had murdered Alexis only meant that he loved her more than he could stand, the fact that Uriah had been beaten the most out of all of his siblings only meant that he was loved the most. Yes. That had to be it. The boy would also begin to self-harm. Hell, he loved himself. Eventually he would turn eighteen, and begin school to be an architectural designer. No real thought was put into this profession. He picked it on a whim, and simply stuck with it. If Uriah had a skill in anything, it was tunnel vision. As soon as his brother Markus turned eighteen, the boy ran for the fucking hills. And who could blame him? Well, Uriah for one. Markus really was the ungrateful bastard that his grandparents always said he was. Somehow, though, his father’s mind began to clear at this point. The man’s rage faded, and mostly he remained in a drug/alcohol induced coma. As much as this should have been like freedom for Uriah, it felt more like a slap in the face – and not the good kind. What had he done wrong? Did his father no longer love him? He grew more and more upset, until he finally confronted the man in a screaming rage. In a way, he had hoped to get some kind of rise out of his father. Well, his hopes were dashed on that front. His father merely laughed, and said, “We really did a good job on ya, huh kid?” The young man didn’t understand, and in his newfound rage at his father, he demanded to be sent to Barclay University to finish up his studies. Uriah, despite the fact that he was honestly and truly fucked on the inside, seemed like a normal twenty year old for all intents and purposes. He made friends quickly at his new school, taking a rather large interest in his new roommate. He and the boy would get into a relationship, though it ended rather quickly, with Uriah claiming there was no way the other boy could love him – though he didn’t go into details. All of his relationships passed in this way, and it devastated him, really. He just wanted someone to love him! He didn’t understand why they couldn’t love him right. The next two years of school passed quickly enough, and he even picked up a girlfriend toward the end who just so happened to express her “love” in a way that he could understand. The two moved in together after graduation, with her more or less just using him for his money. He didn’t mind, though. He never seemed to mind, which only seemed to make her angrier. He got a job eventually, though it didn’t pay quite enough for what he was used to. It would be a couple months later, when he and this girl broke up and she kicked him out of his own apartment that he would find a good way to make some extra money – selling blueprints. He had access to them, after all. Any research he put into how a building was designed simply looked like work, it wasn’t suspicious. He began to sell these blueprints to people who wanted to rob the buildings, kidnap people out of them, whatever. He didn’t care what they did as long as they paid him. He would even begin designing buildings with secret entrances for enough money. Once he purposefully ruined the integrity of a building, so that when a small explosive was placed in it, the whole thing came toppling down. The people who had paid him for this got their man – who cared that at least a hundred other people died simply for being in the wrong place. The plans he submitted to his superiors for review lacked the small details that made the building weak, and the blame was placed on the construction workers. Six months ago, when the event happened, he was approached by a god and offered a wish. His wish was simple; he wished that the flawed blueprints couldn’t be traced back to him if someone was looking for him. He was given his insignia and power thereafter, and has continued to profit a great deal from his ‘side business’. Insignia Level 1 The Support – Level One – Uriah doesn’t actually have a power of his own, and it makes sense if you think about it. If he had a power, it would literally just belong to whoever was in the area at the moment and told him to use it. Otherwise, it’s unlikely that he would use it independently. Therefore, rather than give him his own power, he was made a ‘support character’. Basically he can strengthen the power of one other person. They have to stay within a five-foot radius of him, and his concentration can’t break while he’s doing this. Whatever toll the person’s power takes on them – the same thing happens to Uriah. So he would lose energy, metabolize at a dangerous rate, etc along with the person. This power also doesn’t increase the amount of time, or the amount of times, that a power can be used. It simply strengthens what is already there. His insignia takes the form of a reddish colored tattoo on the back of his hand. To activate his power, the person whom he is strengthening has to kiss it. The Wren – Passive – His familiar takes the form of a little wren. The thing looks entirely normal, other than the fact that it’s a lot smaller than the average wren. It tends to nestle comfortably in the hood of his jacket when he is out and about. The bird can actually copy human lyrics and sing them back almost exactly, but it can’t actually speak. It can’t fly either, and Uriah deems it useless because of this. Still, he carries it around everywhere with him. Extra Uriah believes that life is about having fun, and doing what you want. Little things like laws, and other people's feelings/lives shouldn't get in the way of that. Uriah is very cold to the pain of others, having detached himself from it long ago. While he gets nothing out of causing or seeing pain, he sees no reason to stop it. If he learned to like it, you can too. OOC OOC Name: Ellie How did you find us?: Nai <3 Other Characters: Desmond Walsh, Harper Collins, Christopher Evans, Yulia "Boris" Maksim, Bastion Lewis, Charlie Bennet

[Neko]

Accepted!! Great job, put your profile link in your mini profile and put your claims in the Face Claims and the Directory!