BAEK, yoon ki | no place like home *

BAEK, yoon ki Mar 7, 2012 15:43:10 GMT -5

Post by yoon-ki baek on Mar 7, 2012 15:43:10 GMT -5

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yoon ki baek.

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PERSONALITY...

likes.
mints
desserts
bubble tea
red wine
cats
books

dislikes.
grass stains
disorganization/disorder
elevators
basements
cigarette smoke
most sodas

strengths.
decent culinary skills
frightfully sharp memory
overwhelming determination
able to nap anywhere, anytime
uncanny aim with pointy things
proficient in martial arts

weaknesses.
cannot hold his liquor
doesn’t drive
somewhat clumsy at times
unable to swim
poor sense of direction
snappy temper when stressed

fears.
the dark
crowds
the idea of drowning
failure
rats

quirks/habits.
falls asleep in bizarre places
persistent when he's least wanted
tries very hard not to lie if he can help it
plagued with the urge to fix things

aspirations.
give hello kitty a mouth
turn the moon into cheese
learn all existing languages/instruments
meet people who writes fortune cookies

misc.
has a very complicated relationship with his glasses, which he fiddles around with a lot despite always wearing them; they constantly slip off the bridge of his nose and he finds it irksome. takes forever and a day to select vegetables.

secrets.
rumor has it he has a disability from a car crash in his youth rendering him fearful of driving and inexplicably accident-prone in the dark. in actuality, a nasty bout of bullying toward the end of his last year of high school resulted in a head injury that left him colorblind. along with the fact that he was diagnosed with ocd at the age of fourteen, he's managed to avoid informing anyone of this.

overview.
yoon ki is the sort with his ideals and decisions set in stone, who’s willing to go into heated debates to defend his point of view. he’s painfully honest if not wry and skeptical at times, and people have learned not to ask his opinion on hairstyles or clothing choices. he’s the kind of person who actually enjoys giving instruction and likes knowing that he’s making progress and overcoming obstacles. he hates making mistakes and he becomes easily frustrated when other people do so as well. he’s hard on himself, always striving to improve, but others around him don’t escape his critical nature either.

he’s almost freakishly organized, and won’t tolerate any form of uncleanliness in his living space. interrupt him when he’s in a cleaning frenzy and he will become incredibly frantic and violent. despite the somewhat cynical attitude with which he combats others, he does have a measure of fondness for his students, although it’s rarely exhibited.though he's blunt, he isn't loud, and he's not fond of large gatherings that stretch his few socializing skills so thin. it's not uncommon that's he's mistaken for being too quiet, or bitchy, or boring, or even stupid, among those who don't know him too well. sometimes he can be petty, as he's easily slighted with a very sharp memory, but overall he's merely hardheaded and determined to make something of himself.

APPEARANCE...

his facial features are on the softer side, fairly pleasing but largely forgettable. he has a small nose, prominent cheeks that transition slowly to a rounded chin, thin lips and faint dimples when he smiles, even if he doesn't mean it. there's a bit of a pout his mouth settles into at times without him realizing it and his cheeks have suffered constant abuse from enthusiastic old people's pinching. overall, his build is stocky, with shoulders broader than you'd expect (most of which is hidden by ill-fitting dress shirts and jackets) and he barely scrapes a woefully inadequate 5’6’’.

HISTORY...

ever since childhood, yoon ki has been a little peculiar. his handwriting was startlingly impeccable, and he’d always had the habit of rewriting his homework multiple times until he was satisfied. he made it a point at a young age to always be honest to himself and others, to never sugarcoat anything he’d ever said regardless what opinion was asked of him, and this led to the perception that he was somewhat tactless as he grew older. his father was a doctor and his mother was a researcher, both so ingrained into science that yoon ki had a difficult time trying to pursue other interests (though in his youth he’d taken up guitar, piano, martial arts, drama, composition, and creative writing). everything about his personality was directed toward the arts but a mixture of implicit parental expectations and the smallest spark of interest in chemistry led him away from that path later in life. not that he has the heart to study chemistry anymore.

yoon ki was diagnosed with obsessive compulsive disorder sometime in the beginning of high school. even now, he sees a therapist twice a month and takes medication for the illness daily. he’d attempted to ignore it for the majority of the time, because mental disability was horrifically taboo with his family, and he refused to rely on pills to maintain his sanity. but it soon became near impossible to the point of ridiculousness. he spent hours on his math homework assignments because the graphs just weren’t straight enough, he couldn’t go near the stove because he was afraid of setting something on fire, he couldn’t play the guitar anymore because it was never quite tuned correctly and his fingers bled from washing his hands too many times a day. the frustration mounted until the illness began to noticeably affect his studies, which he’d always excelled in, and the sense of failure it accompanied was unlike any other he’d faced before. most days the prozac helps, but he hates being dependent on it.

there was no car accident, but the year he turned eighteen someone did think it’d be funny to push him off the boat during a field trip. in hindsight, he supposed it was probably his own fault for not being sociable enough and hanging around dangerous places. he doesn’t talk about any subsequent injuries or handicaps due to the incident, much rather preferring to not acknowledge it. it wasn’t quite that easy, however. he completed the rest of high school from a hospital bed and didn’t attend his graduation ceremony. for a while, he’d struggled internally to wrench himself out of the feeling of helplessness and inadequacy, and his parents eventually divorced, partially as a result of the stress his condition placed on the family. he felt guilty for his role in this but proceeded onward with a surge of optimism regardless. he ended up failing every chemistry lab, and took up sociology in college instead. now he teaches electives in the humanities and social sciences departments (beginner’s psychology, sociology, law, history, etc.) in high school while inching along slowly on that master’s.

[/style][style= width: 188px; height: 100px; background-color: #bda194; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; font-size: 09px; color: #656565; border-top: #bda194 2px solid; border-bottom: #bda194 2px solid; padding-left: 3px; padding-right: 3px; overflow: auto;]the lights flickered off on their own, after sensing minimal signs of life, for about the fourth time since the last worker headed home. four hours ago. haven groaned, head connecting with his desk with a thump, which apparently didn’t count enough as human activity for the lights to switch back on. he lifted his head slowly to stare at the pale glow of his computer, then conjured a dim (about fifty watts) spherical concentration of light to hurl toward the ceiling. that got the message across. automatic lights my ass. he puffed vehemently at his unlit cigarette (no time to even blink, let alone light it), and fumbled in the cabinet for a copy of the previous briefings on this case for reference.

times like this, he couldn’t help thinking, what kind of a superhero has a day job more stressful than fighting evil. although to be fair, one glance at the window (which he can’t afford to spare at the moment) would indicate that it was a little past daytime hours. the more time he spent in this field the more he thought that there was some sense in the work of a vigilante – all this procedure may be securing him steady employment but it was driving him crazy. he was pretty sure finding this cretin stealing cars all across the city and crushing his bones would be an easier task than making sense of these goddamn tower signals from the man’s cell phone. he wasn't some master of riddles, why did they expect him to know this.

he had four sentences written below the header that laid out the basics; thirty-four year old, anyang native, arrested at girlfriend’s house, alibi provided by his mother. then he looked at the maps again. “aghsjbdjhsbcd,” he exclaimed in frustration, spluttering a little due to the cigarette between his teeth. by the time he reached for his phone, fingers flying across the touch screen, he’d already started to chew on it. he was long past the stage of reason where he remembered that calling someone at four in the morning was deemed rude and disrespectful. he was pretty much desperate. “c’mon, hyung,” he muttered, dialing the number again once he reached the voice mail . he hammered out gibberish on his computer keyboard with his free hand to soothe his nerves. somehow damaging public property was calming. maybe he needed to speak to a psychologist about that.

male.

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