it’s southside time with the obsessive amateur philosopher, besties!!!
basic stats !
Full name: Emir Eldar Erdogan
Date of birth: October 23rd, 1976
Zodiac big three: Scorpio sun, Virgo moon, Taurus rising
Gender & pronouns: Cis man & he/him
Sexual orientation: Bisexual
Education: Final year at CCU (Philosophy)
Enneagram: 5w4
MBTIi: INxJ
Temperament: Melancholic
Moral alignment: True Neutral
Various inspirations: ...a character I played in 2020...
background !
triggers: implied abuse, briefly mentioned homicide attempt, a lot of toxic masculinity fahsdlj
Emir was born in Istanbul, Turkey... but you would be hard-pressed to find anyone with that knowledge who wasn’t his own Father (with a capital ‘F’).
Shortly after Emir’s birth, word came in from one of his Father’s associates that a location in the USA, the South Side of Cherry, had become a prime spot for business. Thus, his Father stole him away!
Naturally, Emir grew up with little knowledge of his mother. He connected to her culture through activities such as reading through the Qur’an, the Holy Book of a religion that his Father had abandoned in the name of power long ago. Moreover, this expanded his world. The tragic and clichéd story of ‘the kid raised on the wrong side of the tracks’ would not apply to Emir, a fondness for classical music, Camus, Dostoevsky...
To back up, it was not long after the move from Istanbul to Cherry’s Southside that his Father had a daughter with another woman. It as as though his Father had been able to predict it, the way he seemed to observe Emir’s protective nature over his sister as something that solidified his worth as a man. Willing to kill or be killed, he would be an excellent leader -- an excellent successor. His Father’s contact had made a wise decision putting him in touch with the seedy underbelly of that sweet California town.
“Don’t life the veil, Emir. Keep them under the illusion of happiness.” What was underneath the veil, what Emir was able to witness while sitting in on meetings between the big dogs, did not trump his own illusion. Happiness anywhere outside of the Southside... he couldn’t picture it.
When his Father began talking about expansion with the other two, all the possibilities changed. Everything they would lose if they were to succeed in their expansion, a community that would cease to exist, love that would disperse... Emir knew, logically, that that was the best way to go. Financially and territorially speaking, it was the next great move. But he was a cursed man: he could never choose between head and heart, and his heart told him that he should do whatever he, in his limited ability, could to put a stop to it.
Rifts between himself and his Father became more common than ever. He had always known he was meant to be a blank slate for him, that some greater purpose was being written out, but he no longer cared for it. He cared for his home. But what could he do? How much could he really accomplish? How much of his life would be fate and how much would be free-will? Who dictated fate? Who chose free-will? Which spell had he fallen under? It became an obsession.
There was a moment that he believed he would do one thing or another: execute free-will, or become the master of fate. The underground slid a small bottle of cyanide into his hands, and he poured just enough cyanide into his Father’s drink at one of the meetings. He had had it with the violence at home, most man when he threw the punch. He had had it with the man’s blatant disregard for everyone but himself. He needed to do something...
But fate caused him to trip, or free-will prevented him from serving it.
Thus, Emir now must grapple with the expansion plans. As he tries to ignore the begging to go against his Father’s wishes, as he prepares to ‘integrate’ into Cherry Proper, he must hope his Father is the designator of fate. Free-will begs him to stop the charade, to sabotage it. Fate tells him there is nothing he can do. What is a man to do when posed an impossible question?