AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
Occupation
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Koko
Offline
Nov 27, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
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Tag me @pole
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Sept 29, 2013 1:43:29 GMT -8
The Japanese woman looked slightly flustered and quickly put a shirt back, assuring Feliks that she wasn't going to buy everything she had in front of her. Feliks felt a little bit bad about that. He sincerely hadn't meant to embarrass this woman with his question. After all, he was something like the equivalent of a curious tourist here: the man without any particular degree of wealth in a store that was unequivocally meant for the wealthy. The goal was that he would observe and interact with the exotic place and its inhabitants, the Higher Socioeconomic Class, without causing any harm.
But the woman was confessing to the source of her trouble now: “I'm just a bit... confused. I like all of them, but I can't afford more than two items. I really want to take these home with me.”
Ah, so she wasn't absurdly rich or anything. The man found himself smiling; this looked like a fun conundrum. He hoped that this could be an easy, friendly encounter. No awkwardness or embarrassment necessary for anyone, just some fun conversation and an eventual solution.
“I can totally help you pick, if you want!” Feliks offered. “I'm Feliks, by the way. Feliks Łukasiewicz, but you don't have to try to pronounce my last name.”
He looked closely at the pile of fancy items, not even remotely self-conscious over the fact that any one of those things could have bought what he was wearing three times over. “If you like those slippers, you should totally get them,” he mused aloud, nodding to himself. Everything here was just so very nice, and he was decidedly envious of anyone who could afford even just one or two items.
There was no bitterness about it, though, just a wistful feeling. “I don't think anything you pick would be wrong,” he commented. “So no pressure. Whatever you get will be great.”
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
Occupation
|
Koko
Offline
Nov 27, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
GMT-5
Tag me @pole
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Sept 27, 2013 19:49:51 GMT -8
Upstairs, where the bomb was likely to have been. Where whoever had set it might still be. Where there was almost certainly more destruction.
Well, if that was where he was needed, there was no question that Feliks would go. Lives depended on it—his own being the least of them (not that he had anything against his own survival, but in a situation like this it was necessary that other things be prioritized higher). He didn't even care whose lives, really. He understood from the title “Sir Bondevik” that it was someone of some importance, but that simply didn't register as much as the information that it was critically important to prevent more death. And he needed someone to help him with the mission. It would be best if it were another Agent, since they were there to provide protection rather than to enjoy a party, and therefore would be more likely to be armed and not out of their minds with panic.
Scanning the chaotic room once again, this time seeking out his coworkers, Feliks thought he saw—wait, was that a man in a penguin* suit?
He blinked and shook his head. When he looked again, the mysterious tuxedoed bird was gone. However, he did see a much more welcome sight: Liesel Friedmann, one of his coworkers. The Pole walked quickly in her direction, hoping she would notice him approaching.
Once he thought he was close enough to be heard over all the other noises in the room, he called, “Liesel! I'm going upstairs. There's a Sir Bondevik who's gonna die otherwise. You wanna come with me? Or can you point me at someone who would?”
With his fellow-Agent, his voice slipped back into its normal cadence. They knew each other already; there was no danger that he would make the mission seem unimportant or himself appear too incompetent to work with. The situation itself was enough to prove that this mattered.
*You know, and I know, and Eirík knows, that Feliks is seeing a puffin, not a penguin. However, the two look remarkably alike at a distance in a recently demolished room containing a large number of people, and so hopefully Feliks can be forgiven this misconception.
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
Occupation
|
Koko
Offline
Nov 27, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
GMT-5
Tag me @pole
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Sept 24, 2013 22:35:45 GMT -8
Feel free to use either of my muses (tha'd be Poland and Kosovo, and I'm trying really hard to get 'em both in under the AC) in songfics all you like.
Also please excuse my half-past-2-AM grammar.
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
Occupation
|
Koko
Offline
Nov 27, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
GMT-5
Tag me @pole
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Jun 29, 2013 17:33:00 GMT -8
Maybe Feliks couldn't afford to actually buy anything at a place like the Pucci Outlet, but he still very much enjoyed taking an hour or two to wander around and admire the place and its merchandise. Sure, his outfit (today, a blue V-neck shirt with white jean shorts) looked distinctly cheap when surrounded by the fancy clothes for sale, but he definitely wasn't here to look at the clothes he already had. Much more fun to fantasize about the (probably never-to-come) day when he might be able to wear the light, lovely, ridiculously expensive things that comprised the summer collection here. And if people looked at him oddly for being the poor man in a store for the rich--well, who cared?
In his wanderings through the store, Feliks spied a rather pretty woman, by her appearance probably Japanese, who appeared to be sorting through a number of the items that Pucci offered. She had probably ten things, and looked a bit troubled. Rich? Probably, at least rich enough to look seriously at these things. The young man did wonder, though, what was bothering her.
"Are you going to buy all that?" he wanted to know. Inspecting the pile from a slightly closer distance, he found that she had some very nice-looking things in it. "Good taste."
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
Occupation
|
Koko
Offline
Nov 27, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
GMT-5
Tag me @pole
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Jun 29, 2013 17:07:38 GMT -8
Feliks wasn't exactly the sort of agent who could be detailed to the party itself. People would generally notice an eccentric hairdresser trying to mingle with the elite, and his cover job meant that he couldn't go anywhere high-profile without being identified as exactly that. Not that he minded: the more presentably classy agents typically described such duty as being divided between their professional alertness and plain human boredom. That given, the young blonde considered himself lucky to be assigned to the more interesting place of wandering around outside. He could do whatever he wanted as long as he stayed alert and close enough to the Maximantics building to act as instant backup. Not a bad deal for him, all considered: he enjoyed the chance to observe a different sort of people, and his perennial "I like pretty buildings" excuse was true enough to keep him going for a while.
There was a pretty fountain outside the building, with a low, wide wall around it perfect for sitting on. Feliks had been lounging there for some time, wondering in philosophical fashion about whether the people he was watching now were more or less happy than those of his significantly lower social class, when his mild reverie was interrupted by a tremendous blast from inside the building. Glass sprayed out from a window a few stories up.
Instantly, he was on his feet. His role to play here was that of the "heroic bystander," who responded to a nearby emergency by doing whatever good could be done. Maybe he wasn't strong enough to be doing the hard things--things like, say, tackling escaping saboteurs or lifting fallen walls would probably be beyond his capacity--but a healthy pair of hands and an alert pair of eyes could do some good.
The Agent charged into the building, carefully avoiding the broken glass blocking the way, looking for things that needed to be done.
It was easy to tell where the party was, and from the doorway he could take in the overall shape of things in the dusty room. There were the silhouettes of three men rescuing someone from beneath a fallen chandelier--Feliks would not interfere, since he suspected he would only cause greater problems. A clump of people huddled in a corner, apparently terrified. And in the middle of the room was a single, composed figure. Feliks approached that one.
As he drew closer, waving the dust away from his face as he did, he could tell that that person was a doctor. For this unusual occasion, where he needed to be taken seriously for once, Feliks shifted his voice to a lower register than was his wont and affected a much more regularized accent. "Doctor. What kind of help is needed?"
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
Occupation
|
Koko
Offline
Nov 27, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
GMT-5
Tag me @pole
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on May 23, 2013 18:23:53 GMT -8
| Feliks Tadeusz Łukasiewicz
A genius who would never be taken for a genius, Feliks is a girlish, resilient young man who acts as hairdresser by day, a pony breeder by evening, and a secret agent by night. He is personable, if annoying to a lot of people, and excellent at keeping secrets. Of course, he deliberately makes himself seem to be less intelligent than he really is. It's amazing how much people will underestimate you that way. |
170 cm | 54 kg | Blond hair to shoulder |
Green eyes | Light-skinned | Slim |
Upon meeting Feliks for the first time, most people assume that he is a high-school girl, a brainless idiot, or a brainless, idiotic teenage girl. This is deliberate on his part. In reality, Feliks is a lot more intelligent than he lets on--more intelligent to the degree that his hobbies include codebreaking, and even code making when he's really bored. Sometimes, for fun, he communicates with a few select friends through coded messages hidden in posts on My Little Pony forums, which are always signed "Rarity." The coded messages, once deciphered, often turn out to be in Polish or Latin, depending on whom the message is for. However, not every post he makes contains these messages; sometimes, all they mean is what they appear to mean. Many other members of such forums admire him for owning, breeding, and training a small number of ponies in real life. He has also been known to play with gadgets and doodads and invent things once in a while. When he gets the chance and some materials, he happily produces all kinds of things--some more immediately useful than others. These are just a few of many things he does simply because he likes exercising his mind; others include reading literature from all over the world, playing with the mathematics that go into everyday life (for instance, he knows, thanks to a couple hours of boredom and a few quick Internet searches for measurements, exactly how much weight every major bridge in London can hold assuming they are all properly maintained), and predicting the phenotypes of the foals his ponies might produce. The intelligence that lets him do all this is hidden because Feliks has quite a stubborn and proud nature that leaves him hating to be ordered around. He deals with this by constructing a facade that will let his intellect go unmolested and undiverted to things he has no interest in, and (with this and other strong aversions) sometimes putting on a false personality that allows him to dissociate himself from his situation. "Fake Feliks" is selfish and airheaded, easily manipulable and completely unaware of basic facts of life, and would never think of, say, slipping that secret message containing incredibly valuable information to the friendly agent who is pretending to explain something to him because he is clearly too dense to understand the obvious things being explained... The real Feliks can be self-serving at times, though not nearly to the extent that he makes himself appear to be. This is partly an artifact of how much time he spends inside his own head, since his thoughts are often very difficult to share. He does not always realize when he is being offensive, because people often react to his innocent behavior as if it were and he has had to lose sensitivity to such reactions in order to get by in life. As for the cross-dressing part? While he's aware that people tend to estimate fashionable young women's intelligence as fairly low, the primary reason that he dresses as one is just that he enjoys it. His preference for dressing like a girl sometimes puts him at odds with his religious authorities. He is a devout Catholic, but his nature and intelligence is of a kind that means he does not always accept everything he hears--particularly when his nature is the subject of debate, as he has come to the conclusion that by now he is indeed aware of what is going on inside his own head. His religion still matters to him enough that he continues to attend Mass regularly despite the rather enormous demands on his time inherent to holding three jobs. |
Mathematics, particularly when they are actually useful. He has a talent for numbers, but quickly gets bored if they aren't doing anything he cares about. Codebreaking is a particular favorite application. Ponies! He has a childish (some might say "girlish") love for all things equine, and a particular fondness for the small variety. Especially if they have ribbons braided into their manes. Speaking multiple languages. He can switch between English and Polish at the drop of a hat (having been raised bilingual) and delights in using whichever one someone he dislikes will have a harder time understanding. He also likes to hear himself talk, partly because he thinks rather highly of himself and partly because he is fascinated by how different his own voice sounds in different languages. Because of this, he's picked up a few other languages along the way, and knows how to sound like a brainless teenage girl in all of them. Swishy skirts. He likes the way it looks and feels, and it doesn't hurt that people tend to treat him differently when he dresses like a girl. Watching their varying reactions interests him. Confusing people, as might be clear from the rest of this list. People fascinate him, and he is so different from most of them that he has become accustomed to seeing the whole range of human emotions just in reaction to his actions. He also has a bit of a devious streak that can make all this more pronounced. Reading anything and everything that comes his way. It serves him as a steady diet of new information to occupy his mind with. | Being treated like a lackey. He hates having his talents demanded from him, which is part of why he behaves in such a way as to persuade people that he doesn't have them. The British food known as "bangers and mash." Don't ask him why if you value your life; the story is a sensitive point with him. Clashing colors, especially on clothing. Why would anyone wear things that don't look good? Boredom. He is easily bored if nothing is happening or if he isn't involved in anything, which is another big reason why he acts so oddly. He is forever looking for something to entertain himself with. "Dumb Pole" jokes whenever they cycle back around into fashion. Even if he makes himself out to be less than brilliant, he resents that his ditzy behavior is treated as representative of his family and the entire country they're from, particularly since his real intelligence is much closer to the typical case among Polish people. Bullies of all stripes. After being bullied for a long time, it's nearly impossible to avoid either hating bullies or becoming one yourself. Though he's thoughtless sometimes, Feliks is not a fan of people coming to actual harm, and he particularly hates bullies who still think it's okay to pick on him. |
Saving the world. Why else would he have gone along with becoming a secret agent, if not on account of having grandiose dreams of the good he could do with such a position? He's aware that it's asking an awful lot--but still, a guy can dream, can't he? Maybe the next mission will be to take down some villainous plot to destroy everything that is just and good in the universe. Finding someone to love. This is also a really tall order for a spy, but that never stopped him before. He's very conscientious about not putting himself or whomever he might fall for in danger--but, drat it all, he gets lonely. One of his ponies winning an award. What? Sure, it's only a cover job, but it's a cover job he loves. Of course he wants to excel in that too. | Being alone. He gets very lonely when he has no one to talk to, and sincerely believes that he will go insane if he loses everyone he cares about. Confinement. The idea that he could be trapped and unable to protect himself or get free utterly terrifies him, though if he ever found himself in that situation he would probably able to keep the panic down enough to find any possible way out. Weakness, or more specifically being put into situations where his physical weakness can be exploited. His strengths are almost exclusively mental, and his small, thin physique does nothing to alleviate his lack of arm strength. It's not that he's in bad shape, he just lacks muscle, and he knows that if he gets in the wrong place that could be very dangerous indeed. Forgetting about something that matters. He treasures his knowledge and his relationships with others, and fears losing his memories of them. Even the bad experiences he has had, though in one way it would be a relief to be free of them, are important: if he forgot about those, wouldn't that mean that he wouldn't know it if something of the sort was about to happen again? Spiders. He's perfectly aware that they are useful to humans, that they get rid of icky flies, et cetera... but that doesn't stop them from being creepy. And some of them can kill you. |
The son of Polish immigrants, Feliks was noticeably different from other kids starting at a very young age. When he was a toddler, his best friend was his next-door neighbor, a girl about a year older than himself, to whom he gravitated for reasons inexplicable to his parents. Like every child in that neighborhood, male and female, he attended plenty of tea parties in pretty dresses; the unusual thing was that, unlike the other little boys, he never reached a point where he grew bored with it and gave it up. The tea parties started to become less and less frequent when he was about six or seven, but his friends kept loaning him skirts until he was old enough to buy his own.
Equally unusual, at least in the eyes of his school, was his academic talent. Many things came easily to him once he discovered that there was a purpose to the boring parts--he resisted maths and letters at first, until he was dragged past the early stages and found that in the harder stages these things meant something with which he could entertain himself. He did have a bit of trouble with certain aspects of Western European history, because like many students he could never tell the difference between Charles, Charles II, Charles II, Charles V, and Charles V or between Louis, Louis, Louis, Louis, Louis, Louis, Louis, and Clovis, though he found the history of Eastern Europe significantly easier to understand. The names were easier to remember, and seemed far less foreign to him than to his natively English classmates.
It is an unfortunate fact of life that any child who is particularly unusual amongst his classmates will necessarily be subject to a certain degree of bullying which is greater than the degree typically experienced in that group. Feliks would have very much liked to be the exception to the rule, but sadly he was not. He was the subject of a great deal of bullying starting very early, even before he grew his hair out and began wearing skirts to school, over his unpronounceable last name and his perceived "know-it-all" status. Between that and the way the teachers talked to him, Feliks began to disguise his talents in the hopes that people would leave him alone. The bullying never really abated, but it changed tenor to something that didn't bother him quite as much, and that was almost good enough.
When Feliks was about twelve, he finally had sufficient control over his own appearance to grow out his hair to the shoulder-length style he has maintained ever since, and to begin occasionally showing up to school in a girls' uniform. The bullying that redoubled at that point still occasionally gives him nightmares, though he is past every other artifact of his awkward preteen phase. This was when the infamous "bangers and mash" incident occurred, which still makes him angry to think of, and he has never since touched the dish. Even the smell of it makes him sick to his stomach now.
We shall not speak of what happened to him in high school, but it includes the reason his fear of his own weakness is so vivid.
This is not to say that he did not have friends in school; his neighbors and one or two others had largely just accepted that he was odd and stuck up for him when they could, and if his parents did not precisely approve of some of his clothes they made no effort to stop him from dressing like a girl once he made it clear that he was determined to do it at least some of the time.
University treated Feliks considerably better, aside from the reactions to his now-habitual ditzy facade that generally amounted to, "what's (s)he even doing here?" When he graduated on time, the general belief held that he had probably either cheated or paid someone off to get the diploma, but that was all right. He knew, and those responsible for ensuring he had done so knew, that he had earned his way.
However, before he graduated, Feliks had taken up certain unusual pastimes. He had started his enjoyable nights as an amateur cryptographer during high school, and had used it to communicate with the few friends he had in the middle of class without anyone noticing, but it was during university that he had taken his hobby to more ambitious heights: developing stranger codes and sneaking them into increasingly public places. His talents had caught the notice of someone at MI6, and once he graduated they offered him a job. Feliks was a little dubious about his ability to perform the vaunted action-y side of spy duties, and he still is, but after some substantial consideration he accepted.
Every single day of his training with MI6, he showed up wearing a fluffy pink bunny-ear headband with whatever else he felt appropriate for the day. He justified this because nobody who saw a spy in pink bunny ears would ever remember anything else about him. He does not usually wear the ears anymore, but occasionally he will pull them out just because he can.
During said training, he was advised to get a civilian job as his cover. He picked two: he now works as a stylist at a beauty salon and moonlights as a small-time pony breeder. He has been seen dating men occasionally, but he likes to keep his romantic life rather private and as such little is known about it. |
(From Manor of Fate, because I didn't like any of my TND posts this much.) Such a strange place, this manor. It was bigger than Feliks had expected, reminding him of the High Middle Ages more than anything--like a relic of a time much older than America. A plantation in the American South from before their war wiped out slavery was so very reminiscent of a fief in Europe from before anyone other than the odd Viking knew America existed, as if history had copied itself over. Or, he allowed practically, as if this were a common sign of a powerful ruling class that wanted to have all possible control over its lessers.
The similarities he noted mostly ran along the lines of how almost everything one could need to live existed in this place, except for freedom. It was the perfect setup to deny freedom to others. One could eat here from the gardens and livestock they would have kept, and never needed to leave to buy more food. The raw materials for clothing were grown on plantations like these; if they had wanted to, the masters of this place might have kept some back so that the enslaved seamsters they surely had could outfit everyone who lived there. Water and shelter were equally served by such a place, and a degree of safety was offered by the same boundaries that were also meant to keep the slaves to afraid to run away. There was even a chapel, which was where he had wandered his way to now.
The chapel was in ruins, which somehow seemed totally appropriate. From the outside, Feliks could see that the windows were broken and the walls were a dirty, sooty mess. He shook his head in half-pretended sorrow, having no attachment to this place but remembering all the times when war had meant he had to worship in a familiar church reduced to a similar state.
The door was burnt to the point where only half of it still existed, and it wobbled crazily on its hinges as Feliks pushed it open before himself. The inside still smelled of smoke and the floor was coated with ash, though every other sign indicated that the chapel had burned a long time before. Keeping the skirt of his nun* costume high enough off the ground that he would not get it dirtier than necessary, he walked deeper into the desecrated sanctuary, between the charred skeletons of pews.
When had the chapel burned, and why? It had obviously never been cleaned or attended to since, so it must have been near or after the time when the manor was abandoned, because if there had been people living there then surely they would have at least gone and swept up some of the ashes. Instead, it seemed to have been left the way it was for however many years it had been. Perhaps it was even a recent development--there was an awful lot of ash left, and it seemed surprisingly unmixed with dirt or dust or plant life--but that seemed unlikely in light of his other question: what might have started the fire? It didn't make sense that lightning would strike a small stone building in the courtyard of a much larger building that had evidently gone untouched. Any fire from outside would have left marks elsewhere. That meant the fire must have started within the chapel--perhaps from an accident involving ceremonial candles, or possibly some arsonist having fun?
Feliks reached the front of the sanctuary, before what was left of the altar, and looked up at the crucifix. Transferring the gathered folds of his skirt to his left hand, he crossed himself and bowed his head to pray silently.
That is, he had intended to pray silently. Within a few moments, he was whispering his prayer under his breath: "Kyrie eleison, Lord have mercy," switching from liturgical language to everyday tongue and back.
A thought burst in his head, marking an unsettling counterpoint to his prayer: this place, which was set up perfectly to deny freedom to the enslaved, was also set up perfectly to deny escape to the nations now.
*That would be Japan's idea of what a Catholic nun would look like, which bears very little resemblance to the real thing. |
Koko | Chatango names: WhatsAKosovo and BunnyEarsPoland | A man visits his doctor with celery stalks stuck in each ear and a carrot stick up each nostril.
He mumbles, "Doc, I'm just not feeling well."
The doctor replies, "Maybe you're not eating right." | "If I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put 'U' and 'I' together." | made by CAPTAIN of BACK TO NEVERLAND |
[/quote]
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
Occupation
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Koko
Offline
Nov 27, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
GMT-5
Tag me @pole
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Apr 21, 2013 10:57:25 GMT -8
So I'm a generally terrible artist who occasionally does something vaguely resembling decent, but last night someone let me have a piece of paper and a brand-new mechanical pencil, and I started drawing. Here, have an entire thread in case I ever do anything half-decent again. So, on Manor of Fate, I decided to make Feliks go to the costume party dressed as an anime nun. Which is very distinct from a real nun. You'd think there'd be a picture on the Internet somewhere of Poland dressed as a nun, right? Wrong. So I drew this. Took about 1 hour. Mechanical pencil on white copy paper. I shrunk the sketch above using Photoshop, but while I was in there I thought of trying to play with some tools in Photoshop I'd never really used before. Long story short, this was the result. This is, hopefully, the last stage in that project. I kept noticing imperfections and adding further details, resulting in this.
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