i hate

19/M/6'2. As a child Cadet was always out playing. Scraped knees, chasing cats with his friends, swordfighting with sticks from the forest and all that. But as he grew older his friends stopped wanting to play, started snapping his sticks in half etc. etc. And so it came that Cadet stopped going outside unless it was to get to and from school. He spend his afternoons and evenings with his face in a book, usually from the fantasy genre. In those books the sticks were actual swords and snapping one in half meant death. It hadn't meant death to him. Only sadness. A sadness he's never been quite able to get rid of, and as an unfortunate result of this he's got little to no self confidence and would rather take the blame for everything than start up an actual conflict. He tries his hardest to be nice to everyone, even though inside he's boiling with hatred and anger.

He wears a white dress shirt underneath a knitted sweater, thus making the collar of the shirt lie neatly over the sweater. His hair is a dirty blonde shade that's starting to get too long and his eyes are gray, framed by round glasses.