Personal Message
Description
— ❛ full name : park chanyeol
— ❛ birthdate : november 1992
— ❛ orientation : demiromantic
— ❛ occupation : private military contractor
— ❛ preferred genres : drama, angst, action
— ❛ timezone : gmt+8
— ❛ love interest : error 404
— ❛ deity : ares
extra information about your persona
— ❛ current (mortal) : all the commissions he had done in his career were straight to the point— finish the target and leave no man behind. it was quick and easy; all he had to do was plunge his dagger in, pull the trigger, push the red button, or whatever the job specified and he was done. so when simon brown tasked him to set out for moirai and camp there for future assignments, he felt like a fish being forced out of water. however, like magic, that feeling changed when he arrived in the city.
it was the very first time he felt something akin to home. yes, chanyeol was still lost but he knew he was fine; he had to be and he will be.
— ❛ personality (mortal) : charismatic. eccentric. fervent. dutiful. resolute. if he can, he will; if he can't, he persist. problem solver.
— ❛ personality (deity) : chaotic. misfit. turbulent. reckless. violent. i don't care about what you want. trouble maker.
personality traits; q&a; etc
▪ ― likes : cigarettes. daydreaming about the day that he will discover freedom and find out who he truly is— not who he should be according to his contract. death. sunsets. his lost sibling.
▪ ― dislikes : contracts. ingratitude.
▪ ― hobbies : working out. profiling. playing the guitar in contrast to his adrenaline-filled career.
▪ ― talents : hand-to-hand combat. weaponry.
▪ ― goals : make sure his sibling walked the right path. buy a small island and freely live his life.
▪ ― fact(s): he is loyal to a fault but only to a certain few. he is not afraid to stomp the law if it meant achieving his goal. he does not like disputes but this is overpowered by his distaste for defeat.
i see nothing but crimson, i hear nothing but battle cries— all of them were chanting a name, a name i couldn’t quite hear despite the volume. i don’t know whether it was to ask for guidance or condemn the man; but all i know is that whoever they were calling, it was me. because as i stand my ground, waiting for my cue, i feel their spears piercing through my body like i was a pilgrim needed to be touched.
a little something about his (mortal) past
chanyeol was a destitute child— he had a for a mother and a junkie for a father; and, as expected, they struggled to nurture him in his first few years of life.
for investment.
at age three, his parents kicked him to the curb to beg for spare change and he wasn’t allowed to return until he had enough to last them a day’s worth of meal (and/or drugs). at age five, he learned a quicker way of earning money; thievery. he had springs on his feet and nimble hands to match. chanyeol first targeted purses of the elderly; but as he grew older and learned the streets like the back of his hand, his targets changed to all walks of life. anything that was in downtown was his for taking. and no one could stop him— not even the police. after all, he was a young immature boy.
at least that was the case until he was captured by human traffickers.
he was ten years old, at the time, when he landed in england and caged in a pig pen. contrary to the extravagant suits his perpetrators wore, their minds were buried in the gutter deeper than the crooks back in his hometown.
for entertainment.
it was his first time to hold a dagger— not to steal but to kill. chanyeol was pitted against a kid twice his size inside an octagon. there was a huge screen above their heads, illuminating the colors they wore (since they didn’t want to name a dead kid) and the amount of bets on their side. he clearly had little to his color but after a long fight of endurance, chanyeol proved victorious; and, his feat earned the attention of simon brown, a notorious man.
under simon, his new and first contractor, he then was trained to be a lethal behemoth.
from the refined techniques of martial arts to pure instincts of bloodthirst, he absorbed and wielded them all like it was innate. and it didn’t take long after his fourteenth birthday for his first assignment— infiltrate the enemy base, take out everyone on sight, and bomb the place. everything came easy until he heard the cries of an infant bellowing from the ravaging flames. but if you think, he ran to save the child, you got it wrong. instead, he only prayed to the stars for her soon-to-be departed soul. it was either his life or hers.
for survival.