Lenka (Done)

Nickname(s): [None]

Age: 19

Race: Special Human. The good kind.

Gender: Male

Organization: Independent

Organization Rank: Mercenary [None]

Lenka stands 5' 1" weighs 110 pounds, leaving him at, at first glance, thin and lanky appearance. However, he does maintain a good amount of muscle to be able to complete the work he does. He possesses red eyes, and short platinum blond hair, though it's a slight greenish when he swims in a chlorine pool, or an ashey grey if he wears his helmet for a while, due to the cleaner he uses upon the inside, a somewhat stubby nose, and all complimented by relatively pale skin. He's shaved off his stubble and mustache. Stuff like that gets itchy.

As clothing, he wears a black version of the 1937 pattern British battledress (BD) uniform, the one with long sleeves, complete with Toe-Capped black Ammunition Boots, matching trousers, a Mk II British helmet with a black hessian (burlap) cover, black 1908 Pattern Webbing, a grey Haversack, and black finger-less gloves. He wears non-prescription glasses (Similar to those you would use at a shooting range, The squarish angular ones that go slightly around the edge of your eyes. His are tinted red.)

However, when not in battledress, he wears a multitude of jeans, his shirts either short or long sleeved, with a combination of black/white stripes and angles in one form or another. The same rule applies if he wears a jacket.

This young man prefers to keep himself polite at times, though most of the time he keeps a professional attitude, having a relatively deep voice for his size, learning the art of utilizing a commanding tone and getting orders across straight, and to the point from his father. He understands the times when he possesses authority, and those times when he does not. He's not quite as strict as to keep to the same routine as his father, preferring to branch out more into... questionable areas of employment. However, he does garner more income.

He's focused, calm, and likes to think about things rationally. He has no problem dealing with combat, though also has a taste for the finer things in life, such as cats, a nice chat with the employer, some booty, or indulging in some nice breadsticks at Olive Garden. He's a fairly social person and can easily pass the time chatting with others.

M1911: A black, government issue version, firing from a 7-round magazine, of which he carries six total. Three in a pouch, two in the holster for easy access, and one in the gun. .45 ACP.

Kel-Tec RFB: A rifle firing 7.62×51mm NATO ammunition, from a 20 round magazine, of which he carries six total. One in the weapon, and the other five in ammunition pouches. Lenka posesses the Target version of this weapon, which has a 32" barrel, and is 40" overall. He has a 3-12x50 variable zoom optic on the top rail of his weapon, and a red dot at a 45 degree angle to it, on the left side, allowing for easy close-range aiming.

Grenades: Lenka carries six No. 36M grenades, carrying twice the charge of modern hand grenades such as the M67. Dat effectiveness.

Lenka, being a mercenary with a fairly good (for his age group in the company) amount of training, is quite proficient in the use of his rifle, sidearm, and grenades. He can also cook on his own, and drive in either an offroad environment, or normally on the streets like a decent person. Having done a few jobs requiring it, he can talk his way out of some situations, though it's not heavily relied upon. Being relatively small, he's also trained himself to be more nimble, quite fast even for someone of his size, able to quickly duck, roll, jump, and perform parkour. He also abuses his somewhat feminine form, trying either to lure enemies into a false sense of security, and surprise them later, or maybe troll a friend or employer. Heh.

The mercenary was born with a mutation in the Thalamus due to an insertion during DNA replication at his birth. He has a harder time differentiating between hallucinations and reality as a result. The influence of his imagination, after he reatched relative maturity, was able to be extended from himself to act upon reality for short periods of time. However, overuse of the ability gives rise to migrains, and after repeated overuse, could damage his brain due to the stress, as it'd not designed for such a thing. Each time he manipulates an ability, he becomes somewhat more exhausted, depending on how close that ability came to maximum capacity, the field being more tiring of the two.

Ability:

Lenka was born in Copperfield, a small town in the deserts of Arizona, quite close to the Mexican border, a mutation in his DNA due to an error during the film of life's replication at his birth, his body developing in accordance with its booklet of nucleic acids. His father owned and was an operative of his very own PMC, which was the family business for those who desired to join in. (Mostly the males, though a very few select females.) As with any good, american dad, Lenka was taught at a young age the importance of firearms, and other weapons, in the defense of freedom. By that, he was taught how to shoot his daddy's .22, then, as he became older, he proceeded to be told and understand more of the family business. Having been home-schooled, and not having a fair deal of contact with children outside his extended family, he, like most children, saw only the glory of war. As time went by, he became aware of the darker sides, however, by this point, how cool is it to be quite fit, and be able to go into other countries, complete assassinations, protect drug shipments, the like? Dayum, that's like the embodiment of freedom!

At the age of eightteen, his father finally approving of his ability to look after himself, and be mindful of those he worked with, ensuring the saftey of the team, he was invited along to a simple escort mission, which happened to go off markedly well, aside from a small problem, in the form of two wannabe gangsters, one with a knife, the other with a gun. The latter of the two items was a capgun, the former, a small, 2" pocketknife. You see, this was so incredibly pathetic, only the sixteen year old had to even do anything, or rather, could do anything, other than laugh. The young man then proceeded to bestow divine asskicking upon the two in the form of a rifle stock, a piece of a device which had been loaned to Lenka from the organization, seeing as he wasn't quite old enough to actually own a weapon yet.

Now, one year later, he's become quite a bit more experienced, having now dealt with his share of actual kills, real combat, and enemies who don't just linger around, waiting for their doom to drop from the sky like a four hundred pound pallet of whoopass onto a steel object. He now completes contracts on his own, quite liking a medium-long range sniping format, however finding himself effective in close quarters due to his small size and nimbleness.

Sitting bored in his apartment, one fine afternoon, he was extremely distraught. His internet was out, and there was nothing to do. His head laying on his desk, he could no longer bear this incredible boredom, desiring to see something break. With a slight sigh, he flicked at his water glass. Lo and behold, it arced across the room and shattered against the wall, due to his want to see something break, thoughts having drifted to throwing it, however, he didn't have to go quite that far. Confused, he attempted this several times with a foam block, as not to break anything else in the room for real, eventually figuring out if he wanted an object to go flying in a specific direction, he could do such a thing through contact. However, when he went to try moving his refrigerator with a poke, he found it did not move, only groaned slightly. So he made abstract guesses about the limits, fine-tuning them over time. Eventually, this was tried with his grenades, (In the deserts far from those who could watch, as this is not normal, he was careful to be sure none would observe) which he found he could direct reasonably accurately a fairly good distance. In light of that, he now, still lies bored in his apartment, looking for a new contract.

Off, to greater adventures, and more contracts!