[b]Name:[/b] Kiril Smirnov
[i][b]Nickname:[/b] White Russian[/i]
[b]Age:[/b] 27
[b]Appearance:[/b] [hider= Extremely large Image][IMG]http://i.imgur.com/sCZMlMn.jpg[/IMG][/hider]
[b]Gender:[/b] Male
[b]Personality:[/b] 
As of growing up, Kiril had remained to be quite introverted among his peers straight through into his adult years. It was during his recruitment into the Erasure Program as an agent that his superiors recognised his fondness for seclusion. This however didn’t change the fact that he worked well within a team; his often calculating efficiency and split second decision making were a deciding factor for the success of many missions throughout his career as an Erasure Operative. Interpersonally, Kiril is a peaceful heart, speaking only short spells of words with those he isn’t close to. However, it’s not a dismissive taciturnity which keeps him from talking, but merely a bashful nature. 

He is a man of an acquired taste, and has an almost obsessive and compulsive desire for routine. Although ambidextrous Kiril will only drink scotch out of his right hand, fire a gun with his left, only smoke “Huff ‘n Puff” cigarettes and triple knot the laces of his shoes. When asked about these minor inconveniences he responded that it made him enjoy life that little bit more. To indulge in a ritual allows oneself to retain some semblance of normalcy in a world which seems so superficial and self-destructive,

[b]Writing Sample:[/b]
[hider= Writing Sample]A subtle breeze sweeping through the dust besotting plains of Traxia cooled Yannick’s exposed back. He collected a fair amount of water from the stream with his helmet, pouring it attentively over his head and allowing the rejuvenating properties of the liquid to rest upon his sinuous skin. He breathed a weary sigh, taking a moment to relieve himself from the tensions of battle. Another wave of that same gentle breeze made contact with Yannick’s soaked back, sending an invigorating rush over him. He stood up, taking a long moment to breathe in that chilled air.

He looked up into the twilight sky noticing a billion stars blinking against a blanket of darkness. It was quite impossible to imagine that upon that constellation of shining lights was the place from which he called home. It was one of those existential and often nihilistic moments that Yannick was often found victim to. Earth was just a small ghetto amongst the many backstreets of the Universe. One tragic misstep and you could miss home entirely.

Tracer fire ripped into the evening sky disturbing this fleeting moment of concord. The battle drums of artillery fire and anti-air arms cracked like thunder against that peaceful night, and it was time to take arms. Yannick rushed to strap on his armor, fastening his blinking comm. link into his ear and answering the call.[/hider]

Writing sample is a copy+paste from a previous Writing Example for a Mass Effect themed Role Play...Just thought I'd use this one seeing as I made it only a few short days ago...and I really don't want to write another Writing Sample without any context >.<