Name: Sacha
Age: 23ish
Occupation: Assassin
Weapon: a single thin blade that is normally pressed against his forearm and attached with straps, but can retract out over the wrist.
Appearance:

With long limbs and a leanly toned body, he stands about 5'11" tall. His sleek black hair falls to mid-back when down, but more often than not, he wears it tied up high on his head. In certain lights it can appear almost purpleish in tone, but still undoubtedly black. His eyes are bright blue and framed by short, stubby lashes. Clothes are tight fitting and black except for the long buttoned jacket he wears over top. He has a strap on his right arm (inside the jacket) for his blade and also a few faint scars on his back and arms.
Personality: Very duty bound and loyal, he does his job because it's all he knows and he accepts it. Rarely smiles because he has no reason for it. He prefers to be alone and is kind hearted despite his job. He has a history of punishing himself in order to repent for his sins and acts protectively, even if that in itself is sometimes cruel. Often, he's just going through the motions of life though, appearing dead inside.

Turning, Sacha clicked the release on his blade, not bothering to wipe it clean before it slid beneath his jacket sleeve. He couldn’t stand to look back though every part of his body knew what lay behind him, his senses oppressing him with the knowledge. So, without a single glance of regret, he hurried for the town’s front gates before anyone saw what he had done. Out in the open fields surrounded on one side by woods, cold wind tore at Sacha's close fitting clothes. Though he wore a long coat as well, it did little to keep the sudden blizzard out. Not long after the town disappeared from his view did the sun begin to drop beneath the horizon and with it, snow rushed in. Strands of his long black hair pulled loose from the tie, getting caught in the freezing blood on his cheek. The smell reminded him of reality all too much. Pressing a hand to his ear for a second, he tried to drown out the pounding going on inside his head. It smelled! Damn, he felt like he might throw up. The blood wasn't his of course. That at least gave him some comfort. The storm only got worse though and he was far from the city and no one in the area would help him anyway, even if he turned back and sought shelter in the town he had come from. The snow thickened, falling faster and faster around Sacha until he struggled to see even the line of trees not far away. He forced himself forward though, not even sure why he bothered. Except perhaps, what else would he do? Something caught his foot however and he pitched forward, plowing into the quickly gathering blanket of snow. Blinking his eyes, he caught sight of a flash of red and green. The sapling tree grew alone outside the edge of the forest and Sacha couldn’t help but think that it somehow got caught in the storm as well. "Shall we brave the storm together?" he asked as he unbuttoned his coat to swing it around where it created a tent with the plant between him and the coat. Honestly, he didn't know why he did something like this. He was a strong man and capable of surviving a blizzard if need be, but he felt he couldn't do that right now. In reality, he knew exactly why he was protecting something as insignificant as a sapling. He was punishing himself. After a kill, he always felt hateful toward himself, but today it was especially bad. There had been a child and now that child's blood was on his hands. This was his job though, even if he hated the act of killing, he was a killer for hire. He hated it, but it was the only way of life he knew. So if he punished himself from time to time, it wasn't a big deal.