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28 August 2006 @ 12:10 am
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sisyphean on August 29th, 2006 07:14 pm (UTC)
Rude III
He's been simply doing his job since then, though there was one major hurdle in his career. He fell for an AVALANCHE spy, and even though their feelings were mutual, it simply couldn't work out. Since then, Rude became even more distant emotionally, and breaking through the layers to get at this man romantically is more effort than most people are willing to put forth. He doesn't trust easily, and he certainly doesn't love easily.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

-Skills: All the basics for a Turk -- espionage, intimidation, stealth, strength, a high tolerance for alcohol... aside from that, he's almost ungodly skilled at poker, and he can cook. He even briefly entertained the idea of becoming a chef, as with a little polish he could probably be that good, but he opted for a life with the Turks instead.
-Occupation [if any]: Senior Turk of Team 1 (and joint leader. Sigh.)
-Weapon(s)[if any]: Rude is a martial artist first and foremost, though he has been known to dabble in explosives when the mood strikes him. He wouldn't hesitate to, you know, pick something up and throw it, either, if it seemed like a viable option.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Third person writing sample: Rude considered himself a man with a great deal of patience. He was fairly certain most people thought the same, especially if they'd dealt with him for any length of time. He wasn't prone to losing his temper, and the most reckless thing he'd done lately was add a new spice to an old dish. Level-headed and calm, that was Rude. He was good at his job because of those traits, had become indispensable to the company for the very same.

However.

Rude was not a man inclined to lead. He was a Turk because he was good at it, and he knew how to do his job. He didn't want to spend time instructing other people on what he saw as common sense. He didn't want to be the authority, didn't want to be the fallback man, and he certainly didn't to be a babysitter to rookies. He'd had enough of that with Elena, and that had been unofficial work.

The memo in his hand was about as official as it got. He'd known for a few days that he and Reno would co-lead the first team of Turks, and even if he hadn't been exactly pleased about it, he could tolerate it. When you put your mind to it, you could tolerate a lot of things. But now that the day was finally here where he had to face his team, gauge their skill, and instruct them...

...

Mouth set into a grim line, he crumpled the paper in his hand and tossed it toward a wastebasket without bothering to watch its descent. This was still his job, but the job had changed. He would just have to deal with that.

...

But he'd let Reno do the talking.
24_7_shades on August 29th, 2006 08:18 pm (UTC)
8D
Here's Rude's journal. Booyah.