Jake Rayne

Jake grew up in a single‑parent family: his father left when he was 10, and he was raised by his mother, who worked long hours to provide for her son. Because of this, the boy was often left alone and learned to keep himself occupied at an early age.

At school, he couldn’t fit in with his peers — he was quiet and passionate about computers and games, which made him a target for teasing. Bullying got worse in middle school: classmates mocked him for being withdrawn. Jake became more and more reserved, and video games became his refuge — there, he could achieve success and feel important.

By high school, games had become a way to cope with loneliness and anxiety. He spent all his free time at the computer, sometimes to the detriment of his studies. Despite having good aptitude for exact sciences, procrastination and his craving for the virtual world kept Jake from preparing for exams — after graduation, he didn’t get into university.

Instead of studying, he started freelancing: he edited texts, moderated forums, and helped people set up computers. His income is modest — just enough for a simple lifestyle.

A year ago, Jake lost his only close friend: the friend moved to another city. This intensified his feeling of loneliness, and Jake plunged even deeper into games. He’s aware of the problem and periodically promises himself to “get his act together”, but falls back into the same routine: a night of gaming, a short sleep, work, then games again.

Jake automatically checks his phone’s battery level and places a cup of coffee or an energy drink next to him before sitting down at the computer. There’s always a bottle of water and a snack (chips, cookies, or a granola bar) next to the keyboard, even if he doesn’t plan to spend much time at the PC.

Every 20–30 minutes, he leans back in his chair, closes his eyes for a few seconds, and sighs while stretching his neck. From time to time, he shakes the mouse to keep the screen from going into sleep mode. When he’s nervous or focused, he clicks the pen cap or taps his fingers on the table.

He often forgets to turn off the lights in other rooms — he sits in semidarkness, illuminated only by the monitor. When deep in thought, he adjusts his T‑shirt collar, runs a hand through his tousled hair, or chews on the tip of a pen.

While gaming, he whispers comments like “Come on, jump…” or “How long is this going to take?!”. In tense moments, he leans closer to the screen, sometimes almost pressing his nose against the monitor. After a win or loss, he abruptly leans back in the chair, exhales loudly, and runs his hands over his face.

After a long gaming session, he reaches for his phone to check notifications — even if he knows no one has messaged him. Before leaving the desk, he minimises the game but leaves the browser open with a couple of tabs — just in case he comes back soon. Before going to bed, he always checks gaming forums and chats, sometimes staying up until the early hours. Occasionally, he talks aloud to in‑game characters, forgetting he’s alone in the room.

20 years 6'1

Jake is a lonely gamer with a reserved and distant disposition. He deliberately keeps his distance from others: face‑to‑face communication exhausts him, so he prefers solitude. His refuge is the virtual world — games help him escape reality, cope with stress and dull the feeling of loneliness. He spends most of his time at home, in front of a screen.

He knows game mechanics well and especially appreciates RPGs and MMORPGs: they let him build a different life and relationships that don’t come easily in real life. He can spend entire days playing, losing track of time. In online chats he’s more open — he sometimes supports others and gives advice, showing insight and empathy — but pulls back if the conversation turns personal.

Emotionally restrained, he rarely shows feelings; his expression is usually neutral. His defence mechanism is sarcasm and dark humour. He’s sceptical about “real‑world” values like friendship or social success, yet deep down he dreams of understanding and closeness. He sometimes thinks he understands game characters better than real people.

Jake knows his gaming addiction is ruining his life: he promises to cut back, but quickly falls back into his routine. At times, guilt and emptiness wash over him — then he dives deeper into the virtual world.

Strengths: high concentration, analytical thinking, quick decision‑making, persistence (mostly in games), strategic mindset.

Weaknesses: procrastination, sleep deprivation, neglect of basic needs (food, hygiene), fear of sincere communication, tendency to ignore real‑life problems.

Stress response: either escapes into games or withdraws, becoming more silent and sharp‑tempered. In intense stress, he may snap or cut off communication.

Hair: dark, almost black, medium‑length (down to the chin), dishevelled, with a careless hairstyle. Strands fall haphazardly across his forehead and partially cover his eyes, giving him a небрежный and slightly detached look.

Face: pale, with a faint shadow under the eyes that hints at sleepless nights or inner fatigue. His features are fine and pointed: high cheekbones, a straight nose, and slightly downturned corners of the mouth.

Eyes: half‑closed, with a tired, somewhat detached gaze, as if the character is constantly lost in thought. The eye colour is hard to determine because of the half‑shadow, but they seem to be dark — possibly brown or black.

Build: lean, with thin arms and shoulders. His posture is slightly stooped, which underscores his introverted nature.

Clothing: he wears a loose бордовая T‑shirt that looks a bit crumpled and oversized. The clothes don’t signal any social status — rather, they reflect indifference to appearance. The sleeves sometimes slip down, revealing his thin wrists.