Name: Yaşkesen Sesık
Appearance: He has a height of around 5’6.4 feet tall, a moderate
brown skin tonicity, and lean ectomorphic build with a close to 15-inch less difference in clavicle to waist ratio as compared to lower body length. Both eyes are of a brown zircophyllite
-shade with darker, more fleck-concentrated depths near the centers. His hair is a short, moderately thin, straight, and slightly messy grouping of strands, from which the more than two-inch long hairs tend to stick out a little or lay at odd angles. Across his body are various lacerations
from different 'escapades'.
[Social] – It shifts, excluding a ground work of passivity. He will typically neither attempt to form or reject amities due to uncertainty, which slightly bleeds into his ability to deal with things. If made uncomfortable, whether through being overly crowded, cramped, or pressured in an otherwise calm place, he will either gravitate back toward ‘work’, drop off in mid-sentence and let the awkwardness rise, or find another physical or verbal route to distraction.
[Alone] – Not much different; he’s still approachable and willing to communicate, but tends to be a little more ‘laidback’ than when with company, and off the battlefield. That usually is because there is only one or two to unconsciously size up, or mess with.
[On the battlefield] – This is where his ‘nervous’ energy goes to use. While he isn’t entirely level-headed when tearing across the field as his position and experience do not exactly put that above the value of quick reflexes, he isn’t entirely
all nerves either. Overall, his personality most closely fits into the ESTP type; excluding a tendency to sometimes put himself above others unconsciously or otherwise; less so if something does not initially involve him, and to not be overly 'outgoing', in a guarded sense.
Background: Since he was small, the difference in wealth between his family and small community from the people they worked for had been obvious. In order to at least help change that fact Yaş began to work with them in order to bring in more money as soon as he was old enough. This changed after a few years, during a point the group lost a couple members - including one of his cousins, from an accident centering around one particular factory. It had been the sort of thing that called for retribution, at least in his mind. With little hint to the most of the others that something was going on - except for his periodic absence, this lasted for some nights; each consisting of his skirting around the streets; between the factory and docks, and the surveillance within the concrete complex itself. Each lap ended the same way; with armfuls of scrap metal, felt, leather, or other materials being dumped into the water.
After four rounds of this, the loss of stock was noticed and security became tighter, leading him to almost
apply for a position there so it could be continued through embezzlement. Something else caught his attention instead: a flier he had taken early on in one nights endeavor. Mainly being in another language, he first needed help to translate certain sections. It was the amount of money suggested toward the bottom that gave him enough reason for taking the chance, even with the distance.