#kind of turned into a malachai headcanon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gonedreaminggg · 4 months

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ITS TIME ITS TIME

my unhinged laurance zvahl headcanons 🫠

- Laurance has a BUNCH of ear piercings. Candenza made him swear not to get any facial piercings, and she's one of the only people he listens to. He did get a belly button piercing to spite her tho :)

- He has a lot of nervous ticks. He used to play with his hair when it was long, but when Cadenza cut it, he started cracking his knuckles and picking at his nailbeds. When Aphmau notices him doing this, she lets him play with her hair.

- GARRANCEMAU. POLYCULE. It was kind of unspoken for a while, and then Garroth got left behind in the Irene Dimension. So, Laurance and Aph got really close. However, nothing was official so she got with Aaron. Laurance and Garroth only ever realized after he had died. Garroth understood, he knew that the polycule wasn't too serious. However, Laurance on the other hand, didn't understand that. Plus, he was dealing with the calling and whatnot. There was a rift in the relationship for a while after that.

- All of the kids in the village love Laurance. I mean, we know he was one of Malachai's biggest role models, and Laur had also grown attached to him. But, he also kinda becomes Naoki (Nekoette but less problematic) and Dmitri's babysitter. He's always been good with kids, but MY IRENE he cannot handle Naoki. Leona also likes to hang around him, as well.

- Laurance used to have a fascination with fire when he was little. (i mean the man has adhd and u know how we r with fire.) He would stare at it for hours. It was the only thing that really calmed his brain. But now, he can't stand it. He can stay near a fire for warmth of course, but he's never the one to start or feed it. He can't look at it anymore. Too many memories. The fire is literally a part of him now. His new body was forged from it. There's no need to stare into the flames. He just has to look in the mirror.

- He's still blind, somewhat. His eyesight wasn't miraculously healed. He has to wash his face in the fountain of Lady Irene every so often, or his vision will completely blur. Even then, there's still spots that never go away, mostly on the outer field of his vision. He has reading glasses, as well.

- He's very physically affectionate. He plays with Aphmau's hair. He grazes over Garroth's hands constantly, running his thumb on all the marks in his palm or his scarred knuckles. When he was younger, he would always find something to fiddle with on Cadenza's clothes.

- He would model for Cadenza a lot. Before becoming a Shadow Knight, he was very comfortable in his body and his masculinity, so playing dress up was honestly very fun.

- Laurance always has to do something with his hands, so he takes up a lot of different crafts. Tying knots, woodcarving (thank you @xerith-42 for that one lmao), making jewelry. (In my hc my OC taught him how to make jewelry, but we don't have to get into that now haha)

- Laurance has Brazilian heritage, and even though he was an orphan, there's a large Brazilian population in Meteli and he was raised around the culture. Hayden kept Laurance very informed on his roots, and in turn Cadenza got to experience all of this as well. (I wanna go into this further at some point but I want to do the proper research first.)

- Since SKs don't need as much sleep, most nights Laurance just wanders Phoenix Drop. That's why he's usually the first to know when something's wrong.

- Before Laurance became an official guard, he was sort of a... vigilante. Bringing justice in the dead of night type beat. When he was younger, in his early teens, there was a high crime rate in Meteli. So, if Laurance saw someone stealing, or trying to break in somewhere, he'd tie them up and leave them outside the guard station for the authorities to deal with them.

Alright have fun with this one crazies

#the voices #they're telling me to make more laurance content #i must abide #laurance is so goobercore #aphblr #aphmau #aphmau mcd #aphmau minecraft diaries #laurance zvahl #mcd laurance #minecraft diaries laurance #minecraft diaries #laurance mcd #aphmau laurance

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noahetkin · 3 years

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➵ BASICS

NAME: Noah Etkin GOES BY: Noah AGE / D.O.B. 30th October, 1994 [26 yo] FACECLAIM: Ronen Rubinstein GENDER & SEXUALITY: Cis-Male, Bi. HOMETOWN: Chicago, Illinois. CURRENTLY: Sunset Park, Brooklyn, NYC. AFFILIATION: NYPD. / Law Enforcement. [Formerly, Syndicate] JOB POSITION: Intelligence Officer/Cop. EDUCATION: High School Diploma, Police Academy. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Involved. ➵ Blair Diaz, girlfriend, living together, one year relationship. CHILDREN: None.

➵ TRAITS

POSITIVE: Determined, Humourful, Autonomous, Resourceful. NEGATIVE: Naïve, Evasive, Untrusting, Blunt.

➵ BIOGRAPHY

Laws are put in place because they are needed; they set boundaries for humanity. Pushing the walls of the books severs the moral standing your soul takes up. It is consuming, darkening – it is all too easily turned into an abyss. No man is exempt from it, no body unable to be free of it despite how strong it may be and there’s never a limit – never. Justice matters and it is powerful, do not let anyone tell you differently. You’ll be the law bringer of the City, Noah, you’ll make a great officer.

When the law stops being fundamental, the entire world will fall to chaos – Chicago will crumble. Never cross right and wrong, Noah; nothing is worth sacrificing the justice system to chaos. Not even if you die defending it, that’s how legends are forged in stone. The badge, the gun – they’re symbolic, they mean nothing if you carry them for the wrong reasons; crush the evil before it crumbles the walls of good. Blue suits you, kid.

Noah Etkin, before he was the man who looked good in blue. He was the young boy that sat in the front yard playing with drift cars, scratching plastic wheels along concrete stones and burying toy vehicles in the mud. The sounds of a child faking siren noises ringing down the street in this horrific squealing that worsened with each whir of the self-made screech. Noah didn’t dream of it; didn’t have aspirations from a young child that put him on the pathway of law enforcement. Etkin played with those toy cars because those were all he had – nobody cared that racing cars were wailing sirens; a kid doesn’t know any different.

Real sirens though, they’re louder. They make a kid’s heart race, pound up against the small fragile bones of an undeveloped pre-teen and threaten to burst. Hands covering ears, drowning out the banshee of a scream that could be heard three blocks over. That morning, mid-way through tearing up the grass beneath the racecars rubber wheels, the matching sound of burning tyres ripped across gravel.

It was a little more intense than a boy’s cries – shortly followed by a crunching of metal folding in on itself. Crashing, crunching – bones, they meshed into one absolute sickening replay of a police car in a high-speed chase down Noah’s street, his father’s racer in front. Embedded in the cornerstone of a turning, half its size, the car weaved shapes like an accordion; interior coated a crimson, his father unrecognizable from the inside. Sweeping arms, shrouded eyes – screams, so much screaming.

Noah shakes at night, a teenager torn from the world of peace, disguised as responsibility; the kind Etkin has never really faced until suddenly, he was man of the house. His mother the only part of Chicago he cared about – the part that since crumbling. He doesn’t understand, the pre-teen tries to grasp the magnitude of the sudden demons that shouldered him. The person his father was, the kind of woman his mother was – broken by grief; loss, absolute despair. Where law had been gnawed into his very core by parents who were not so angelic in their ways. Ruination came for him, first, it was soft. The gentle bites of aging and short-time care for his mother caught in the tangling web that seemed to glue her to the couch for days on end.

Then, it came with grades; school, a boy who’d been all but average, a little keen to follow rules with the belief they were they to keep order and not to oppress. Noah doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything but what he’s told. Once told by a fellow student he’d never become a man until hairs grew on his palms, Noah believed that for years – growing anxious he was never going to make himself into anything. That he’d end up in the front sear of the car his father was, squished between leather and metal; mutilated. He doesn’t want to be. He wants to be the part that isn’t the racecar – but the sirens.

He’s always had the wrong toy car.

So, the man that is Noah Etkin; the one with a history that doesn’t play him as most straight edged story, holes in blacked-out childhood memory of his. He finds some hope in the idea that all those lawful assurances he was fed as a child held some truth; that even if his family weren’t always on the right side of it, he could be. Leaving school, mediocre grades under his belt, he found that where he was good at sports and not much else; something about computers he just got. Whether he just sat there, coding his own remote-control vehicles to distract himself from the idea of committing to the thoughts that plagued him.

Did the police run him off the road? Were they protecting the world from him? Or did he need help from the darkness that had him in its clutches?

Etkin couldn’t tell you how many times he’d asked those questions to himself; wondered truly what had happened. He got older, his mother got more and more ill and the memory got darker. Law school wasn’t for him – his grades didn’t match up by the end, but the Academy; the one thing he’d been milling over since the first night he started asking himself those questions. He’d been asking the wrong ones. He should have been giving himself answers.

It doesn’t matter because you’re going to be the justice system; you’re going to play conduit to right and wrong. It was just that nobody told the late teen that it wasn’t black and white – it never was; it never would be. Its complexities stemmed for decades, the harsh grip law enforcement held was both a reality check to the childish hopes Noah once held and a realization that he wasn’t going to always win the battle of good and evil. Chicago was notorious for the latter. Gang crime in full force, most of which were intertwined with the police force already; corrupt and the non-corrupt in the losing battle. Noah, still in his rookie years was stationed as a regular in what they joked was crim central; he knew it well – figured he did anyways, just played idle watcher in one of the real cars that he wished he’d had near two decades ago. Logging behaviours, doing everything a good young cop would.

Nobody tells the good young cops that they’re in danger before they are. He’s not the best in the field, he’s the support – he plays better from a distance where he can do electronic damage, in the form of tapping away at a keyboard and cybernetworking himself into the mainframes he shouldn’t.

A cop was allowed to do those things, it wasn’t unlawful; he wouldn’t do that.

Because where did his knack for intelligence led him to a lost signal on his radio – one he spent all of a minute hijacking to pick up static signals, he was walking into enemy territory; one of the infamous families that could make rookie cops like Noah Etkin vanish.

His investigation there got him exactly that. A cop snooping around never looks good to those on the other side of the law, the officer evidencing things he shouldn’t because he can’t do stealth in the field. He’s lucky he’s not dead, he knows that too. The offer was no less than a threat – Noah’s ability to network into computers for their intelligence, turn a blind eye to their dealings and he got to live his blue jacketed life affiliated with a gang he was sworn to take down. Fine print: You get to live, appreciate it.

Nobody tells the rookie cops that making deals with the devil never ends in their victory. He’s conflicted; always, that part of Chicago’s crime base was now part of Etkin’s life; is that what your parents were too? Questioning every life choice he ever made came with being in the ranks of affiliates; the turmoil he felt betraying his sworn oath to the law; the job he’d worked for and the change to make a difference.

He was still making a difference in one way, just on the wrong side of the good.

So, two years of surviving that, befriending every side of good, evil; the questionable left a broken cop in the moral war of his life. Pushes the threshold of what he could handle.

And then comes the complication of the cliche.

Noah doesn’t know what to call it, never did. But he knows how he felt about the woman that was born into crime and tangled him up in things he never imagined. Wouldn’t condemn her, even when he had the chance too. Cared so deeply that his own morals were skewed, and that terrified him; overwhelms the man who dedicated his life to good.

Left him drowning; suffocating in the life that he never believed she’d give up; would sink him just the same. No sight of out, not that wouldn’t end with his death.

So he ran, so fast; left everything behind; his mother in care, his friends; the ones he never should have made to begin with.

And yet, she wouldn’t let him go alone.

Knows the price of running and yet trusts that it’s the only way he can ever become the man he once was again. Self-loathing doesn’t suit Noah, at all, New York’s a new start, a quiet transfer into the NYPD that made him wonder how long he has before he’s hunted down from his former affiliation’ by the woman’s previous people; whether if he stays silent to his previous involvement that maybe, they might be left alone.

Maybe’s a rather big risk, but it’s all he’s got; and he’s making the best of it.

Because at the end of it all, he’d rather die on the good side of the law; serving justice than ever be lost to the darkness of crime.

➵ CONNECTIONS

MALACHAI ETKIN | Father, deceased. EFA ETKIN | Mother, Committed. [Chicago]. BLAIR DIAZ | Girlfriend, Living together.

➵ HEADCANONS

NUMERO UNO

Intelligence Officer/Cop at NYPD, prefers to be behind a computer than he does actually in the field.

His father died when he was around five years old in a high speed crash evading cops.

Noah’s mother is still currently a resident of Chicago, but she is committed for psychiatric help. He’s not all that keen to talk about it - he doesn’t understand entirely and given he’s hiding what he used to be, will probably avoid the conversation.

He likes cars - they’re somewhat troublingly personal to him.

He began training for the academy a year after he left school - the year out was spent volunteering for the community whilst helping his mother; it still resulted in her being committed.

He qualified for an officer at twenty and spent a further three years training for the intelligence branch of the force where he developed his already natural talent for computers.

When he first joined the force, Noah was not fully aware how corrupt his first police team was. From when he discovered the foul play, he did his best to keep to his job, be good and find himself a way to slowly pry himself out of the entanglement of broken laws he found himself buried in more every day.

His screw up that led him to being under gang-life thumbs was around his twenty-third birthday, right by Halloween and he was police intel/informant for two years before he defected.

There’s a quietness that he can sometimes fall into when he’s not comfortable, his confidence over the last two years is pretty shot. (he’s a nervous wreck, really)

Often, he has struggle with his wavering moral compass with decisions that directly violate his beliefs - and his job. It can trigger a tremor in his hands that slow his networking down.

Comic book nerd, loves his superheroes and geeks out a little.

Good cop, overbearingly good.

➵ QUICK LINKS

THREADS

MUSINGS

SELF-PARAS

HEADCANONS

#ᴡʀᴏɴɢ / * ɴᴏᴀʜ

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