Name: Weylyn (Lyn, for short)
Age: ≈23
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Asexual (Even though he flirts a BUNCH)
Appearance: Weylyn is pale with ink-black hair down to his chin. He often ties it back with a small hair tie, although prefers to leave it hanging in his face when off-duty. He has a scar that travels from his left temple to his collarbone, and another above his right eyebrow. His eyes are amber and sharp. His typical off-duty outfit is khaki cargo jeans that fall to his mid-calf, a plain black t-shirt and "dad sandals". His on duty outfit is a bit more professional—black leggings that allow for quick movement, a black long-sleeved shirt, and a white neck wrap. He always wears his custom gloves on duty, the left glove fingerless and the right leaving only his thumb, index and middle finger covered. Finally are his skintight boots, capable of supporting him in the roughest terrain and of letting him creep around silently at will. He refuses to wear any armor unless ordered to, which is highly unusual of a guard. Asides from the aforementioned scars on his face, he has two suspicious, shiny patches of skin around his wrists, suggesting a lasting imprisonment a long time ago. His right forearm has a long scar from the palm of his hand to an inch below his elbow, as well as a smaller, intersecting one running right through it. His left shoulder has an 'x' where two more scars intersect, and another about the span of three inches on his lower neck, the left side. The front of his torso has several, the worst of which is a long scar that runs right over his heart. His back is, surprisingly, spared, and no one has ever seen any other part of his body uncovered enough to see if there are any more.
Personality: Weylyn is surprisingly aloof and friendly for the way he looks. As well as incredibly flirty. When speaking to new people, he maintains that friendly exterior, even despite the clear suspicion he displays as he analyzes their every movement. He's prone to taking risks to protect the people he cares for, but knows enough to take care of himself. He's prideful, and would rather suffer in silence than admit he's been hurt, but also incredibly perceptive when it comes to people hiding their own injuries. He will call someone out on it in a heartbeat, and yet react with such clear surprise if anyone ever called him out on it, that it's be a total understatement to call him a hypocrite. He tends to fall silent if he's truly unhappy, whereas he'll complain loudly if he's even mildly inconvinienced or doesn't get his way. He also has a habit of sneaking up on people or eavesdropping on interesting conversations. He loves to climb anything and everything, always enjoying showing off his impressive balance and dexterity.
Backstory: Weylyn was raised in an essential pit of despair. Or at least, from his point of view. Really, it was more of a hovel that he and three assassins shared. He has no clue how he got there, who his parents were or why he was forced to learn the art of killing from the three adults, but he sure as hell remembers all of it. Training was brutal, mistakes more so. It's a miracle he's still alive, in all honesty. Between the countless bloody fights and missions he'd been forced to take part in, Weylyn became quite the angel of death. If it hadn't been for him devising his own strict moral code, he wasn't sure he'd even be sane. Laugh all you want—an assassin with a moral code sure sounds hilarious. But Weylyn was sure to never kill anyone who hadn't caused significant harm to another person. Even when ordered to, he simply refused. This often brought on punishment in the form of being chained to the wall and starved or beaten, but he didn't care. Especially not when he was told to target the princess of their kingdom. It was that straw that broke him, and he fled that night, despite knowing full well the three would hunt him down. In fact, he was counting on it. He waited until the three had tracked him down before unleashing all the pent up fury that had been building over God knows how many years—he didn't even know how old he was—on them, with the help of some traps he'd set up. The fight was short, and though it left him heavily injured, Weylyn came out victorious. He wandered for a while, before eventually deciding to apply for the position of a guard in his kingdom. After all, what was the point of his strength if he never used it? He got the job, and, with time and constantly proving his loyalty, was eventually assigned to Adrestia. The two were relatively close, but Weylyn never once disclosed his past. And things were fine for a while. Until the night the kingdom burned. Even Weylyn, in spite of his suspicious nature, never anticipated the severity of the betrayal of Adrestia's fiance, and lingered behind to try and draw the attention of the enemy away from the princess. It was there that they were separated, and he was very nearly killed again that night. He'd managed to escape death and, after giving himself a little time to heal, began searching for signs that Adrestia had survived.
Other: His preffered weapon of choice is his daggers, although he's proficient nearly every weapon imaginable. He has the tendency of stealing weapons from enemies if it gives him the advantage. His loyalty cannot be swayed by anything—whether it be bribery or threats to his personal safety. He could care less about those things, truth be told.
