Kimber T. Turner

demeanor HOW THEY COME ACROSS TO OTHERS
She projects a controlled wariness, like someone always expecting life to throw something unpleasant her way. Her Australian accent draws people in, but her reserved tone and brief smiles keep them at a distance, while a guarded gaze hints at past troubles. She’s quick to offer help when needed, though her skill might not be at the top from the very beginning, she is quick to learn.

nature WHO THEY REALLY ARE
Beneath the hardened shell is a fiercely protective heart that values loyalty and fairness. She’s haunted by guilt over so much in her past. Despite her rough edges, she cares deeply for those who’ve shown her kindness and will stand beside them through anything. She yearns for belonging, family, friendships and a warm place to finally call home.

ego HOW THEY SEE THEMSELF
Kim feels shattered and incomplete, convinced she carries permanent scars from prison. Even as she denies self-pity, part of her believes she’s damaged goods, that life behind bars have done irrevocable damage to her. She labels herself a failure, unworthy of the dreams she once had

outlook HOW THEY SEE THE WORLD
Life’s revealed a harsh, unforgiving edge, so she trusts slowly and keeps her guard up. She believes in fairness but have found that those in power rarely play by the rules. The chance for redemption feels slim. A sense of unease lights up when she’s given even a hint of kindness. Ultimately, she’s torn between cynicism born from hardship and the faint hope things can get better, even for her.





traits WHAT THEY ARE GOOD AT

• strong work ethics
  She tackles every job with a sense of duty, whether it’s washing dishes, cleaning houses or juggling odd tasks in town. Prison has also been a factor in this, for there they had the privilege to work, which dulled the mind numbing reality of being incarcerated. Now, out on her own, that relentless drive keeps her from giving up. Hard work isn’t just a necessity; it’s her way of proving she can still contribute.
  
• protective instincts
  Underneath her guarded demeanor lies a heart that can’t stand by when someone is in danger. Whether it’s stepping between someone and a fist, or lending a hand to someone who needs it, she puts herself on the line without much hesitation. It’s instinctual and visceral, a flash of courage that might be mistaken for recklessness, but is born of empathy.
  
• quick to adapt to new challenges
  She’s had to pivot more times than she can count and therefore picks up new skills on the fly, whether it’s fixing a broken engine or negotiating with intimidating strangers. If she stumbles, she rebounds. Her adaptability isn’t about confidence so much as survival.
  
• swimming
  She grew up around the ocean. wining, surfing or diving beneath the waves felt like stepping into another world. Since prison, she hasn’t set foot near the shore, partly from shame, partly from fear of rekindling old joys she feels unworthy of. The memory of gliding through water still draws her, though.

likes WHAT THEY LIKE

• honesty
  Her time behind bars taught her that words can be weapons. Promises get broken, truths twist into lies, and trust becomes a precious commodity. Despite that, she craves honesty, yet these moments feel so few and far between that she’s never entirely sure who’s being real with her. Sometimes, she can’t help but doubt even the kindest gestures, worrying that manipulation might lurk behind a friendly smile.
  
• driving on open roads alone
  Behind the wheel, with no music playing and nothing but sprawling landscapes to keep her company, she finds a sense of solitude that soothes. It feels oddly meditative, each mile creating distance from her troubles. While other people might crave conversation or entertainment, she relishes the silence. It’s a rare moment when her thoughts can drift without the constant weight of scrutiny.
  
• sleeping outside
  After spending years locked in a cell, she cherishes every chance to sleep under the open sky, cause gazing up at the stars reminds her she’s not trapped anymore. It’s a simple pleasure, but one that allows her to breathe freely and remember life beyond bars

dislikes WHAT THEY DON'T LIKE

• feeling pitied or judged
  Pity, more than almost anything else, makes her skin crawl. She doesn’t want sympathy or half-hearted compassion for her situation, despite being homeless and having a criminal record. When she catches the sideways glances or condescending tone, she stiffens, bracing for prejudice. Ultimately, she just wants to be treated like anyone else. To fit in.
  
• crowded spaces
  Having endured the confines of a cell, she dreads anything that feels too tight or congested. Even harmless gatherings can trigger memories of cramped corridors and barred windows. The press of bodies, the hum of overlapping conversations, she can’t help scanning for exits and escape routes. It’s not that she hates people; she just can’t shake the lurking panic that surfaces in crowded places. She prefers open spaces, where she can breathe and move freely, a reminder that she’s no longer locked away.