SPOTTED: MIRAY DURMAZ in new york city! heard the THIRTY ONE year old belongs to THE CAVALRY as a WEAPONS COMMANDER word on the streets is that they can be INTELLIGENT AND ADAPTABLE, but they can also be CUNNING AND GUARDED.
𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.
name. Miray Durmaz Del Castillo nicknames. None birthday. August 30th zodiac sign. Virgo siblings. Aslan Durmaz, Esra Durmaz time in NYC. 3 Years occupation. Weapons Commander for The Calvary | Owner of The Foundry character inspiration: Katherine Pierce (The Vampire Diaries), Letty Ortiz (Fast & Furious), Jane Smith (Mr. and Mrs. Smith), Evelyn Salt (Salt)
𝐓𝐋;𝐃𝐑.
Younger sister of Aslan Durmaz and Esra Durmaz.
Raised in a financially desperate household where debt and fear consumed most of her parents' attention.
At six, Aslan was sent away, leaving Miray and Esra behind.
At thirteen, the girls came home from the movies to find their parents murdered and their house ransacked. Miray never made it past the front door.
With no other family, no money, and no way to find Aslan, she and Esra decided to run.
Spent roughly a year and a half moving across Turkey and Europe under fake names, drifting from town to town before Aslan eventually tracked his sisters down, but couldn't stay with them, and the three were separated once again.
At nineteen, Miray stole from the wrong man and caught the attention of the organization he worked for. They gave her two options: join them or die running. She chose survival.
After joining, she was brutally trained in tactical weaponry, hand-to-hand combat, and explosives. She eventually became a weapons dealer, sourcing illegal arms and arranging covert trades.
Reached New York with Esra while still bound to the syndicate, knowing an attempt to leave would mean death. However, once the organization was destroyed, she joined her brother in The Cavalry as Weapons Commander where she's been ever since.
It was in New York where she met and fell in love with Emiliano Del Castillo, and the two of them recently got married.
𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒.
Miray would take a bullet for her siblings or husband without hesitation.
Her signature scent is YSL Black Opium.
Married to Emiliano Del Castillo. Don't look at him
Owns The Foundary.
Loves to drive fast, sue her.
If someone disrespects her or tries to start an argument, she never engages—she’ll just quietly pull out a gun and end the conversation her own way.
Doesn't tend to talk much however get her drunk and she suddenly forgets how to stop talking.
Not religious whatsoever.
Emiliano gave her a Saymoed puppy for Thanksgiving. She named him Alfie, and again—don’t look at him either.
Usually wears black. Not intentionally; it just happens to match everything.
Alix Harrigan is her emotional support blonde—and, also, don’t look at her.
Loves Jersey Shore and DJ Pauly D
She never raises her voice.
Still doesn’t sleep well, but the only way she can rest is in total silence and complete darkness.
Sleeps with a gun under her pillow, another taped beneath the nightstand, and one hidden in the vent by the bed.
Can disarm someone in three seconds flat.
Has perfect aim.
Can assemble and disassemble a gun while holding a steady, casual conversation.
𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘.
Miray had been shaped by loss long before she ever learned to weaponize it. Even in childhood, she understood that love in the Durmaz household arrived in thin, uneven portions—offered only on the rare days when her parents were not drowning in debt, arguments, or fear. They were not cruel people, merely hollowed out by life, stretched too thin to notice the fractures forming in their three children. And so Miray learned early to comfort herself, to move quietly, to disappear into corners and survive on her own.
Danger seeped toward them year by year, slipping through the cracks of their fragile home until the day it finally stepped inside. Miray was six when Aslan left home. Her memories of that day existed only in blurred fragments—her brother’s familiar presence one moment, his sudden absence the next. Their parents offered a vague explanation, something about what was "good for the family," but even as a little girl, Miray felt that had been a lie. The truth—one she would not learn until years later—was far crueler: Aslan had been handed over to a Turkish crime syndicate as living payment for a debt their father could never repay. After that, they saw Aslan only rarely. A letter might arrive from some unnamed corner of the country, its words careful and distant. So Miray clung to her older sister, Esra, the only person she had left.
The night everything changed, Miray was thirteen. She and Esra had gone to the movies, walking home beneath a sky still warm with the last traces of summer. But when they reached their house, the world split open. They found their parents’ bodies inside and their home destroyed and ransacked. Miray never went further than the doorframe, she couldn't. She was frozen in place at the front door while Esra’s screams tore through the silence. Whatever remained of her childhood died right there, in that narrow frame of splintered wood.
With no way to find their brother and no other family left, the sisters ran. For nearly a year and a half they drifted across Turkey and into Europe, moving like ghosts through train stations and border towns, living in cheap hostels under borrowed names. They survived on instinct and improvised lies. Miray learned quickly to read danger in a single glance, and how to vanish into a crowd. One night, while the sisters sat in a small bakery in a coastal European town, Aslan had managed to find them. He had spent the same year and a half pulling apart the truth of their parents’ deaths, following every thread until it led him to his sisters. The reunion was jagged, desperate—a mixture of grief and relief—but it didn't bring the safety that they all had longed for. Aslan couldn't stay. He was still bound to the organization’s control, and running would mean death for all of them. Instead, he protected them from the shadows, arranging forged documents, hidden caches of money, escape routes, and a coded system through which they could reach him once each year to let him know that they were still alive.
At nineteen, Miray’s life veered sharply again. In a cramped hostel in Eastern Europe, she slipped a few hundred dollars from a man she thought would be easy to steal from. But he noticed—because he belonged to a syndicate feared across continents for its mastery of weapons, poisons, and the art of making enemies disappear. Miray expected death. Instead, however, she'd been offered recruitment.They admired her nerve, her instincts, her silence. They gave her a choice: join them or die running.
Miray chose survival.
The organization molded her into something precise and dangerous. Tactical weaponry, hand-to-hand combat, explosives, covert infiltration—skills taught with unflinching cruelty. They carved away softness and left steel in its place. Fear became a thing she controlled, rather than something that controlled her. As the years passed. She climbed the ranks, becoming a weapons dealer —sourcing illegal arms, arranging covert trades, carrying secrets other people died for. By the time she and Esra reached New York City, Miray was still bound to the same syndicate knowing that leaving meant death.
Eventually, the sister's had found Aslan once more. When the organizations that had destroyed their family finally fell, Aslan founded The Cavalry and Miray followed him without hesitation, taking her place as Weapons Commander.
