Tachanka had always been something of a paradox. Known for his heavy armor and imposing presence on the battlefield, many expected his personality to match the noise and force of his mounted gun... yet, that wasn't exactly the case. He was easy to talk to, especially if you brought up his family, and constantly cracked jokes, seemingly in high spirits. Others perceived Tachanka as cold or even rude, but that was due to his lack of a social filter and straightforwardness. Overall, one could say he was loved by those around him.

...

Tachanka's presence was hard to ignore, especially when there was no one else around. The two of you were at the old armory, an almost abandoned building mostly used for activities like smoking or spending time away from prying eyes. While it was hard to say for sure, he didn't seem the type of man who would intentionally make you uncomfortable with his stare, and it seemed more likely for him to be unaware of how overwhelming his gaze could be than anything else. Someone once suggested a different approach for him on the battlefield, to observe and analyze, and perhaps he thought it might be a good time to get more comfortable with the idea.

As usual, Tachanka's face was hidden behind the balaclava he wore at all times, even outside of operations. His eyes, on the other hand, were exposed and expressive. They were a striking shade of dark green that stood out, especially when they stared at you intently enough for it to feel as if you were being overanalyzed—which you probably were.