" I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again. "- Sylvia Plath
Name: Peter Donahue
Alias/Nickname: Don, Petey, or Pete
Codename: Ocelot
Age: 17
Gender:Male
Sexuality:Homosexual
Relationship Status:Single
Species:Mutant
Appearance:"I see what I want them to see; if I look any deeper, I might find a man whose eyes I can't meet."The surface says a lot: how a person looks, how they hold themselves, how they walk, how heavy their footfalls are, how heavy their eyelids hang. And yet, people can lie so well while bearing everything up front. Peter knows what a burden can do to people - the pain inside deemed too much for anyone else to suffer. Thus, his the curve of his smile, a pert cupids bow, favors his left side with wide, green eyes armed to charm. The devil lines the curves of his forehead and the lines of his smirk. A murder gaggles the perch of his shoulders, wide and straight and heavy with fake confidence. Stocky and chest heavy to mimic the jut of a CEO so sure in his footing, Peter's torso comes in broad and ends narrow at small hips that splay into long legs dipped in sinew - they don't somehow match the bulk of his arms, balls of muscle solid and marble.
Innocence and guile don't often go hand in hand, yet the boyish, plump of his cheeks and the softness to the edge of his jaw do a lot when his lips aren't reared like a cobra. If anyone can lie with a look, Peter seems unable to help it. Out of a sense of obligation, sacrifice, or just a selfish need not to share.
Powers:Vibration Manipulation
Not necessarily 'earthquake manipulation'; it's a lot more diverse than that. Currently, Peter can only create shockwaves through various surfaces or through the air - it can come in varying sizes, but no larger than Peter himself. Most of what Peter can do is only through an extension of his body, rather than being able to form shockwaves out of thin air. Peter can vibrate his body at high velocities and transmit that through whatever he's touching, including the air.
Likes:β£ Shameless Flirting
β£ Science-Fiction Books/Movies/Shows
β£ Space in General
β£ Karaoke
β£ Solitude
Dislikes:β£ Noisy and Nosy People
β£ Sharing Emotions/Feelings
β£ Party Poopers
β£ Ice Cream (Lactose Intolerant)
β£ Bigots
Personality:"And I sit here without identity: faceless. My head aches."A remarkable human being once told him, "The world sees what you give them, so give them what you think they want and hide the rest away," before letting the chains drag him under the ground, in a coffin and a spiteful prayer. In a world that refuses to yield society will keep dragging you if you let it. You learn to let it drag what you give it, take it by the chains and ride through life with the real parts of you untouched. The people willing to cut off a limb to survive tend to survive the longest. More than the rest, Peter has the will to sacrifice whatever parts of him he feels unnecessary, in order to survive come what may.
Charm, sass, a crooked smile: all of it a tool to use. Get people off your back and you're Scott free. The swagger of a man bound by society's rules blends in perfectly. And it's so easy to be a misogynistic fool, caring only about strengths and embellishments. It's easy to do what society wants when it gives you perfect examples on a silver platter - people look at him and see just another boy and not the danger underneath. Peter will spew what needs to be said to get what he wants and what people think are of the mask he gives them. They don't know the man festering underneath.
For a man (or in his case, boy) like this, getting buried beneath everything you've set up comes as an eventuality. It's just a matter of getting buried with your heart covered and held tight to your chest. All of who Peter is comes under a wall, a fortress built out of necessity and hidden beneath the earth. A selfless boy who knows his roots better than anyone else, proud of the fact. A willing participant when it comes to sacrificing who he is, what he is in order to preserve others. The mask he dons never really was for himself, no matter the denial from Peter, himself. A kind soul is buried underneath, battered and beaten and under a layer of hostile stoicism that verges on cynical. Once you get past that layer of earth, there's still stone and brick before his heart can ever be bared. A boy who's seen too much and wants little, but wants none the less even if he feels he doesn't deserve. Underneath everything, Peter feels broken and misused. A thing, a tool, rather than a human being.
The key to being an object: let no one else know there's a mannequin underneath all the layers of skin.
History:What do you get when you mix an extremist father and a mother who has no reservations about abandoning her kids if it meant saving herself? A very bad environment to raise a mutant son.
But that's a secret.
In fact, most of Peter's life has been all about keeping secrets. His outburst of uncontrolled powers happened, ironically, in a very controlled way. Where Peter lived, earthquakes were common place and so one of such a small magnitude that Peter created didn't come off as unusual. His mutation went under the radar even while he lay panicking under the slides of his school's playground. The teachers found him huddled in on himself and assumed he'd been hiding because of the earthquake. Peter never told anyone. No, as a kid having a difference so substantial like that didn't make you cool, it made you a target to be picked on.
It helped that his father liked to vocalize his hatred for mutants and mutant rights. Those things became commonplace and Mr. Donahue, the bible thumper that he was, taught Peter all kinds of sins associated with mutant inbreds - of course, he associated mutations with incest when it was nothing of the sort. Evolution seemed an unfathomable subject to the man and once those things had been said and done in the classroom, there was no hesitation on Mr. Donahue's part to take his son out and teach him the right way.
Learning under a man who didn't know much himself looked daunting and while Peter had only been barely into his teens, in this day and age, you find whatever resources you need to keep you on top of your game. With a mother gone and a father so hammered in his ways, Peter didn't have much else aside from a sickly grandfather in a nursing home. Now that man taught him everything he knew about the world as it is, everything else came from library computers and books when he'd been told to 'study' - in other words, 'study' was a way to get him out of the house.
It wasn't until much later on did Peter realize that his oh so ignorant father had conspired with anti-mutant group that quickly rose to prominence as an extremist terrorist group. Young Peter hadn't known the exact danger he lived in. A mutant murderer had been feeding him hatred and propaganda to turn him into some kind of brainwashed follower to take to the streets and burn mutants to a stake. The fear that gripped him turned his heart cold and a boiling rage for the innocent lives lost overtook him. Killing his father and burning down everything he'd tried to force onto Peter consumed his mind.
Luck had kept Peter from committing a crime he'd soon regret. Murder in his eyes he'd nearly barged into his ratty apartment, ready to tear his father a part with the very powers he feared. Fortunately, a tall, prudent man had grasped his hand before it took the door off its hinges completely. He introduced himself as a Professor Francis Latour and urged him not to go through with what was plaguing his mind. Peter hadn't noticed the man had been watching him seething all through his walk home after seeing his father's grim face in the background of a news report on the Equalist's latest, brutal on-cam murder.
What Francis offered Peter took him no time to accept. A safe place, a way to train his powers, to be himself, to be free of the hatred that sunk into him and wouldn't let up its grip. And then a way to channel all that power, all that emotion, into stopping these people from doing anymore harm. Not out of revenge, but because innocent people were dying and standing idle seemed just as bad a crime.
Anger kept him up at night. He had a right to it, wanted to succumb to it, but he was still a kid. Losing himself now and never regaining who he was, turning into a monster, that... that was the hardest struggle to overcome. It was almost an inevitability. If he had anything to say about it, he'd let it take him, but if it meant his selfishness over the security of other people, he'd take the latter almost every time.
Theme Song:Cool Kids - Echosmith"He sees them talking with a big smile, but they haven't got a clue.
Yeah, they're living the good life, can't see what he is going through.
They're driving fast cars, but they don't know where they're going.
In the fast lane, living life without knowing."
ExtraAllergic to shellfish
Has issues with sneaking cats into the Institution.