[@Heat] [@Rawk]
[hider=Béla Kovács, Psy.D][center]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/BeSKDrD.jpg[/img]
[h1][color=LightCyan]Béla Kovács, Psy.D.[/color][/h1]
[sup][i]The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts.[/i][/sup]
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[b][color=LightCyan]Profession[/color]:[/b] Clinical Psychologist

[b][color=LightCyan]Nationality[/color]:[/b] European Confederacy

[b][color=LightCyan]Age[/color]:[/b] 38


[b][color=LightCyan]Gender[/color]:[/b] Male

[b][color=LightCyan]Appearance[/color][/b]
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Like many others chosen to fill the Genesis Arks, Bela carries a sort of tiredness with him carried since the Three Day War, and it shows in the crease of his brow, the rigidity in his neck. He carries himself with an air of purpose, but is without a sense of-self importance - his presence is noticeable, but only just, as his demeanor is more subdued than commanding. His body language and posture is of someone who is deliberate and controlled, yet there is something svelte and feminine about the way he walks in the [i]Vitae[/i], swifty placing one foot gingerly in front of the other. But there is a real stiffness to him - a crook in his arms which are usually tucked into deep pockets, a slight gauntness about his face. So it goes. 

As many of his colleagues, Bela dresses very predictably - always some neutrally colored twill pants, a crisp, cotton button-up of some sort, and generally a woolen sweater. The only exception to his bland manner of dress is his worn, leather dress shoes, smelling faintly of turpentine. There is a hazelliness to his hair that might have been quite attractive at some point; and he is, though his external appearance is otherwise unremarkable. Bela is of medium height - around 5’8” - rather lanky, and sports a generally trim beard.
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[b][color=LightCyan]Strengths[/color][/b]
[indent]● [color=LightCyan]Mindful:[/color] Conducting himself with great care, Bela is very considerate in his dealings with other people and is not quick to engage in conflict. He is composed and methodical, and communicate well with others.
● [color=LightCyan]Doc:[/color] Kovacs has ample experience as a psychologist, and his clinical interests include cognitive-behavioral and mindfulness-based cognitive therapy.
● [color=LightCyan]Cultured:[/color] With a well of knowledge relating to literature, history, philosophy, and the arts, Bela has the capacity to give those interested quite an earful.
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[b][color=LightCyan]Weaknesses[/color][/b]
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● [color=LightCyan]Irreverant:[/color] Bela holds most government-associated superiors in disdain, and is particularly distrustful of those in military positions. This can lead to considerable strain on his interpersonal relationships, given the personnel of the [i]Vitae[/i].
● [color=LightCyan]Withdrawn:[/color] With a great deal of survivor's guilt and a good mix of existential dread, Kovacs sometimes uses his method of mindfulness as an emotional crutch. And in doing so, represses and ignores what he actually feels - so at times he seems very emotionally withdrawn and ingenuine.
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[b][color=LightCyan]Bio[/color][/b]
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After the madness of the Third World War, Bela grew up in the shadow of the fall of the European Confederacy. Back when culture had meant something, his great-grandfather had been a composer in Debrecen, which had flourished in the mid-21st century as a cultural capital in Hungary despite the encroachment of Russia. Supposedly, it had been a beautiful city - beautiful in August, when musicians would perform in the open-air gardens for polite groups that savoured the scent of flowers in late summer. There was unspoken hope at the beginning of the War - before any real talk of proceedings had even happened - that Debrecen would remain unscathed, regardless of what had happened. In February 1945, the cultural capital of the German states had been firebombed in a display of unrelenting brutality, creating a small vacuum in Eastern European cultural and artistic heritage. The destruction of a cultural landmark with such little strategic significance would be remembered. 

There were words, and sometimes pictures which pieced together a memory of pre-War Europe. There were smaller cities in what used to be Hungary that survived in the governmentless states after the war. The cities in postwar Europe had gained some semblance of normalcy by the time he was born, nearly one hundred years after the start of the Third World War. Reorganizing and rebuilding infrastructure. New passages of trade and communication materialized amidst the rubble - life would have to continue. Cultural memory having disintegrated, especially with the loss of language and elder generations, recollections of the past were scattered. Bela was taught to speak and write in English, and the Hungarian he knew was a facsimile of the real thing. As were the memories, clumsily handed down to him through a scattering of recollections: from his mother, a description of the speckled, rotunda-like village churches; from his father, a description of the flower festivals, and of the narrow style of rectangular windows that characterized the fortresses, the small houses, the town buildings. There were many romantic images, so much so that the image of prewar Europe was perhaps more idyllic, more beautiful than it actually was.

They persisted. And though the authentic memories of Europe had all but been decimated - physically and digitally - there still existed deep histories, memories of Europe before the Third War entirely. Bela spent his adolescence ferverously consuming what culture he could, the culture that had existed before. He read of French philosophers and ancient castles and looked at the paintings of the [i]Peredvizhniki[/i]. He learned that Russian novels contained every facet of life, but Czech novels did too - but were substantially shorter. He dreamed of the PreSocratic mode of living, felt distraught that Marcus Aurelius had lost 7 of his 10 children. He obtained a copy of Seneca’s [i]On the Shortness of Life[/i] for a girl that later broke his heart. This is how he grew up. 

Bela had been in his first year of University amidst the Three Day War, studying literature. The War had dramatically changed what society had come to value, and again any semblance of culture was eschewed for [i]practicality[/i], as the times called for. Bela studied cognitive science and psychology, then. He would become a doctor and somehow contribute to the harried mess that had been the United Earth Council as society pivoted to focus fully on scientific progress and technological advancement. Likewise, Bela was quickly churned out of the educational system with a doctoral degree in psychology, all in record time. And though the depth of passion wasn’t quite there, Bela more than excelled - and why not? Humanity had already been contemplating its own problems since the time of Plato, and the thread of thought that had first emerged more than two thousand years ago seemed novel again in Bela’s retelling of it. 

There were questions that himself and his colleagues had puzzled over, which had probably been answered in a different form long ago, though no philosophical predecessor of any of them would have ever contemplated [i]their[/i] specific frameworks. While Bela acted as a traditional clinical psychologic, this sort of contract work through the university was certainly interesting. How should relationships occur, given a controlled population and other logistical problems (quite complicated, though a mathematician after Hall might disagree)? What was the best type of therapy to combat concerns with identity and existence in the modern, technologically-driven world? These were the sorts of questions Bela occupied himself with while the world spun out of control and culture went to shit. 

It was with a feeling of resigned acceptance that Kovacs accepted his post aboard the [i]Vitae[/i]. 
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[b][color=LightCyan]Personal Effects[/color]: [/b] 
[indent]Some clothes and well-worn shoes. A fountain pen and a small set of journals containing memories and thoughts. An electronic notebook containing a library of novels, journals, and images. A scratched-up, silk eyemask. [/indent]

Spaghettos. 
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