⟐ ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ ⟐
There’s always something about Owen that gets people. For some, it’s his somewhat intimidating presence, despite him only standing at a height of 5’9”. For others, it’s his foreboding eyes – two spheres of dark brown, staring people down or absorbing Owen’s surroundings. Whatever it is, there’s something off-putting about this boy for everyone, and that’s not even his power. If you’re keen-eyed enough, maybe you’re put off by the dark bags under his eyes; a sign of sleepless nights. You could maybe be observant, and notice the way his thumb taps along his bottom lip whenever he’s bored, or, hell, even talking to someone. Or you could notice the faint scars; the marks of abuse and punishment, or maybe even his own self torture?
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However, there’s more to Owen than just eerie looks that drive people away. There’s also that hint of sadness that can be pictured upon him; that subtle glint in his eyes as he looks down to the ground, and runs a hand through his lightly ruffled hair. The way he moves; small shuffles that make the baggy clothes he wears rock against his slim, pale frame. The fact he winces when anybody shouts, and slightly jumps if anyone makes too much of a sudden movement. See, there are a lot of things people can notice about Owen. It’s just how you interpret them that counts, and it can often help you when interacting with him.
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｢Goner ⟐ Guns For Hands ⟐ Control ｣
The simplest way to describe Owen’s power would be the spiritual manifestation of his insecurities. These are the sort of “devil on the shoulder” type things, only multiplied by ten, and there sure as Hell ain’t an angel to go with them. Most of them come in the form of Owen himself, only with slickly, shadowed skin, and varying eye colour. As suspected, these manifestations are only visible to Owen, but the more his negativity and insecurities grow, the more powerful they will become. As such, expect to see varied effects upon the poor boy, including being under their control for brief moments of time; 30 – 60 seconds, at the moment. Soon, who knows what they’ll be able to do? One upside is that they can be bargained with, despite being shady characters, and benefit Owen. However, the boy has yet to discover how to be reasonable with them. However, Owen doesn’t know the potential of his powers; not yet. His true ability makes him able to make these voices – these things – visible to other people, able to interact with the objects around them, for a brief period of time. It happens occasionally; someone will say they spotted an even creepier looking version of Owen, when he’s been in a completely different location. These are just small glimpses, however, powered by his insecurities. But the true way to unlock it is to use the power he has inside of him – the power his insecurities don’t want him to ever discover. This power would make him have full control of these “beings”, rather than the other way around, and that scares the Hell out of them.
⟐ ᴡᴇᴀᴋɴᴇssᴇs/ʟɪᴍɪᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ⟐
Obviously, Owen’s biggest weakness are the little voices in his head. Those fuckers make him weep. He’s kept up every night by their laughing; their mockery. As such, this makes him tired and oblivious, therefore making him weaker. That and the fact he has no muscle tone, whatsoever. He’s lucky he manages to eat with these voices. They all laugh at him; make him feel worthless. This has led to years of self-neglect, therefore making Owen, essentially, a runt. The scrawny boy can barely fight for shit because of this, and he’s lucky he has his repellent aura to protect him, instead. Another weakness is how anti-social this has made Owen – he has no idea how to have a normal conversation, like a normal human being. Instead, he’s forced to be alienated by others, and discriminated upon due to his power. Finally, his lack of knowledge about his true potential is probably the biggest – and scariest – weakness of Owen’s. As you can probably tell by now, this renders Owen useless against these manifestations, leaving him a puppet under their control.
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Complicated wouldn’t even begin to describe Owen. This overwhelming situation – these voices in his head, and, Hell, being dragged away to what is essentially a concentration camp – is taking a big toll on his mentality. More and more his negativity and insecurities grow, even though he knows it just makes him weaker, and the manifestations stronger. Sometimes he finds himself wanting to give up and let everything go, but there’s always that clutching at his chest that keeps him on the ground. Truth is, even his own insecurities are against him, pinning him down and forcing him to live on. Life can’t get much worse than this.
Aside from the obvious problem of being dragged around by his manifestations, there’s a hope inside Owen that’s clawing to get out. For now, though, it remains buried. However, it doesn’t mean his default emotion has to be gloomy. Owen’s often incredibly philosophical – being tortured by shadowed spirits of yourself makes you think about life, apparently. It also makes you bitter and stale, each word that comes from your mouth practically dripping with sarcasm. However, if you see past that, Owen’s pretty much your average boy, being weighed down by his power. Talking about his power, Owen wishes he never had a power. He never asked for any of this – he just wanted to be safe and free, without some stupid power that made his life Hell. This means rage has quelled inside him, and if one person were to strike a nerve? It’d explode.
Another source of Owen’s rage is the very reason he’s here in the first place – the voices. They drive him insane, chipping away at the very core of him. His sanity is slowly slipping away from him, and so is his control. The more powerful these spirits get, the more and more Owen is just a pawn to them. And do you know how infuriating it is to be a pawn? To be trapped inside your own body, helpless, as you’re completely mocked and thrown around? And the government is too petty and afraid to even help? This is potentially what drives Owen – he can’t just stay helpless; he has to do something, even if it means risking his own neck. For now, though, he has to just stay quiet, and keep his head down; make friends with the right people, and maybe he might just get the help he needs. He doubts it, though, but he might as well listen to these voices for now.
⟐ ʙᴀᴄᴋsᴛᴏʀʏ ⟐
Owen was spat on by society from the beginning; he didn’t need any fancy powers to change that. His childhood was depressing, to say the least. He grew up in a shambles of a home – shit stains on the walls, piss all over the bathroom, and two parents that jacked up every ten seconds. Of course, that led to his mother dying and him being left alone with his abusive father. This spawned years of eating disorders, neglect, and, hell, being pissed on a couple of times. No baths, no friends, no school. Owen had to always sneak out in order to get his own education, but refused absolutely when the school offered to intervene. He didn’t want anything to get worse, hell no. Despite his obvious history, however, this didn’t stop all the kids from shunning him for being different. And, of course, there was no one to give him pity when he went home – just a dirty grin, and a beer-pickled tongue shoved down his throat. That was when it stopped; he gave his father a second chance, like a rational person, and he crossed the line.
When the school did call the authorities to intervene, however, it was found that Owen hadn’t been tested, not once. So how fucking happy do you think Owen was when he tested positive on his second try? Well, he was just ECSTATIC. Ohoho, and so were the manifestations – they finally came out to play, it seems. And, so, he was dragged away, to the literal modern concentration camp. What joy, huh? Now he’s on his way, the wheels of the bus going ‘round and ‘round…
…and he’s never going back.
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Surprisingly, Owen is an avid writer and good at singing. Nobody knows this, though. Also, and this is rather a “miscellaneous talent”, he’s incredibly skilled at viewing the world in a whole new spectrum. Every leaf falling on the ground is a new story to Owen, and he takes it all into account. The different patterns in people’s movements, the instincts of small animals, even bugs; everything.
⟐ ǫᴜɪʀᴋs/ʜᴀʙɪᴛs/ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ⟐
He’s allergic to avocado.
⟐ ᴛʟ;ᴅʀ ⟐
Spiritual manifestations are mean to Tyler Joseph Owen.
