Name: Zachariah Tania Australis
Tier: D-Tier [Novice]
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Sexy-sexual (He likes sexy people)
Age + Birthdate: 18 -- 4/30
Country Affiliation: Heliohapt
Race: Human
Specialization: Strength
Personality: "Do... You know what friendship is?"
Right away, most people could take Zach's stride and way of holding himself as one of someone who sees himself as higher than anyone else. This isn't further than the truth. In honesty he doesn't think himself higher than any honest citizen. The look on his face, is simply that of a man without purpose. He looks past people, deep in thought even as he walks. Nothing much lies beyond that gaze, except to wonder what he could be thinking about.
Having lost his memories, his only true memories aside the common language, is just a single word. He doesn't truly understand the meaning of this word, yet it's in his mind and ceaselessly eats at him; 'friendship'. He presumes that it's one of the last words he'd heard before losing his memories. Zachariah, however, treats everyone as if he is the very definition of the word in a person. He gladly helps out the poor, he can be the life of a party, and always takes the moral highroad, unless someone innocent is in danger, then shit gets serious.
When shit gets serious, he finds that he has a great deal of martial talent in his body. While his mind doesn't entirely grasp what he's doing, his body is fully aware, as if he's got experience. This leads to an odd sort of feeling when he fights. His body is ruthless, and the only thing he can do with his mind is hold it back from killing his foes. It's such an odd experience when he fights, which is why he only does it when the moral highroad will solve nothing.
Likes:
- Beauty: He likes all things that are beautiful. From people, to items, to actions.
- Acts of Heroism: He admires heroes and one day wishes to be one. However he'd pull that off, that is.
Dislikes:
- Terrorists: People who cause fear to try and get a point across. No matter how great the point, there is never a need to cause innocent people to fear you.
- Dungeon Beasts: He doesn't know what these are from experience, but if he ever met one, he would be disgusted by it.
Phobias: Friendship -- Why would one fear friendship? Especially when friendship is just about the only thing they think about... It's sort of an eerie feeling he gets when he thinks about friendship. Most people look forward to the day when they get to experience what friendship has to offer them, whereas something deep within gives him the feeling that friendship hurt him at one point. Most people would tell him that friendship is one of the best things you can experience, but he fears it that much more because of such.
Aspirations: Friendship -- How can something that you fear so much become the driving force behind your actions. If someone were to plant a seed, and tell it how great the sunlight was, would it not grow? Even if the seed feared such an entity as light? Zachariah wishes to experience what he fears in its fullest. To be enveloped in sunlight, to know that there is nothing to fear in it. He wants to be proven wrong. In this something deeper lies, he wants to know why he fears friendship so much to begin with. Most people, if not everyone else in the world, view it in a positive light, why would he be any different.
Face-Claim: Byakuya Kuchiki -- Bleach
Weight: 64 kg
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Slate Gray
Height: 5'11"
Rukh Alignment: Oddly enough... Black. Will convert to white slowly.
Special Traits: He's lost his memories of his past, with only the word 'Friendship' lingering in his mind as a part of his past.
Appearance: He's a rather tall, handsome fellow, who's more pale than one would expect from a setting like the desert. Making this more odd, his general attire, appears to be the sort that one would inevitably get tanned in. His attire is a very pompous looking top, dark brown in color with a golden embroidered pauldrons, as well as other golden accessories which slowly disappear as he finds a need for money to survive. His pants are very plain for the era, except for being black in color, which makes his outfit 100% sweltering to even look at.
According to his body language, he doesn't mind. Often when he's walking around, he'll not even be sweating, unless everyone in proper attire is also sweating. Instead, his eyes distantly look past everyone around him. He has this very egocentric way of moving which causes people in his way to instinctively dodge him. He never moves aside while walking, not on purpose anyways. When speaking, he holds himself in the most upright posture appropriate, and speaks with minor gesturing at his most casual. The only time he gets more grand than that is when delivering speeches.
History: Zachariah used to be your textbook ancient anime villain. He was a man on top who earned it through years of practice in the martial arts, as well as many great achievements on the battlefield, never using terror as a means to an end. However, once he was on top, his mental state had begun to crumble, and this caused a particular group of people with paricular motives, to hone in on him, and took advantage of his weakened mental state.
He was the main puppet in the performance we know as life, and in the end it would become obvious how mad he was going. He'd felled many aspiring heroes in his time, but he was soon confronted by something fearful. A party of tightly knit heroes who would take down the figure head with their mighty power of friendship. In his last moments as the warrior champion, he saw nothing but fear itself in the massive flourish of power, and could link it to nothing else but friendship.
After being completely demolished by a grand spell such as that, he would wake up completely unable to remember anything in his past. Everything from his birth until just before the word friendship was ingrained into his memory was simply a smudged area in time, with no relevance to the now. As he would travel through the Desert of Forgotten Souls, his mind grew ever more hazy, until he would black out once more.
When he awoke, he was in someone's house. Because people are too nice in backgrounds, he was given a short-term home and was fed decently. He learned little bits about the world, like how money was all one needed to become happy in this world. Well, it actually went a lot like, "We live this way because we don't make enough money to live any other way." but it was the underlying message.
Soon he would be ejected from that home, because "the world is strange. It'll nurture you until you can be your own man, and then feed you to lions." While these messages stuck with him in a more positive note, he would travel into the city known as Heliohapt, where everything was golden, and the city even shone at night.
Role-Play Sample: - Ehehehehehe.....:
BREAKING NEWS: BIRCH PEAK CLOSED DUE TO WATER MAIN BREAK
The headline that started this adventure, in a way. Damon had woken up and been ready for work by the time that his main supervisor would give him a jingle. Picking up his cell phone, he spoke, "Hello?" His words seemed a little tired despite him being wholly ready to work by that point. From the other side of the line his ears were hit with a transmitted blast of vibrational energy, also known as excited yelling, "Damon! Check the news on the TV!" The other line hung up with a text message soon following it as Damon would have turned on the dorm-rooms TV to the news channel. He would drop the remote and fall to his bed and sigh with depression.
A water main break was the last thing he'd expected to happen. The worst part of it was... it was a pretty bad one. He would look towards his phone which had a text message on it, and he would flip it open and began to read it, "Don't bother coming into work for a while. We've got a projected 2 weeks off for repairs. No pay though. ( ._.)" Damon would then gently drop his phone on the ground. His eyes would fill slightly with tears. "Two weeks without any pay? How am I going to eat?" he would ask himself. His workaholic tendencies sort of got the best of him, he usually refused days off, but now it was mandatory... it was almost like being fired! It was only two weeks on the projection, but what if something else went wrong? It could be even longer!
He would gain an aura of depression around him, the cloud overhanging him would be all but palpable as his dorm mates would cheer happily and ignore their workaholic friend's woes. It was like a snow day for them, no a snow week! Month, possibly! As they would suddenly appear to don swimming trunks. They would then head of to Flam Bay, which was actually named as a pun off of Flan, not Flambe! This left the workless employee with nothing more to do than to ponder his pointless existence for a little while. His mind wandered gently from subject in his life to subject in his life. Up until he got to his old swordsmanship classes. Which reminded him of something, which brightened his day just a little bit.
An opportunity that he'd been waiting to take for the past few years. Damon's parents always told him he wasn't allowed to partake in this event because it was too dangerous, and this year he was held back by his job. However, it was now a good time, no, better than ever to finally accept the invitation to the Arizu Clan's invite. He would dig through his stack of paper's he saved for a rainy day, and he would eventually pull out a very fancily written invitation card. He could probably sell this invitation card for a small fortune, but he was always far more polite than that. But his parents weren't, which begged the question as to why the Arizu clan kept sending the invitation to him. Well, his parents were the rich ones now, not him.
Inside, he would read:
'Mr. West,
While I know that you are still probably bound by some outside obligations, and sending you this invitation will probably just fuel your money-obsessed parents to sell it off to the highest bidder causing me to have to kill yet another intruder, I would still like to personally invite you to the 212th Annual Arizu Clan tournament.
In case you weren't allowed to read the previous cards personally, I'll explain my persistent interest in your arrival. Back on the day of the fencing tournament you were disqualified from, I noticed a flourish of power not quite like any I've seen before. It was extravagent, and your skills were unmatched by anyone in that tournament, not even in the Adult League. This lead me to want to see what you could do for real. I know you're probably rusty by now, but maybe you can pull off some of that old talent you had, and impress the clan. I still think you could even win.
So while I lack confidence in your arrival, I'll keep sending you invitations until you either die, or show up. Like I promised you last year, though you may not have read that...
Signed, Mazahs Arizu
P.S.: The prize money this year has been boosted from last year. Thought that might help you out.'
He would blink and see the ticket at the bottom. "So... my parents were hiding a tournament from me. They always said it was a dangerous adult party and it was sent to the wrong address," he would say with a sigh. Damon always believed his parents back in the day, but maybe they were trying to stop him from becoming more successful than they were. They were always pretty shrewd about letting him enjoy stuff for too long.
He would shrug and begin to pack a few essentials into a backpack, which he usually used for packing civvies so he didn't have to get go back to the dorms to get dressed then get back to the rides. He packed a couple of outfits, deodorant sticks, a toothbrush, toothpaste, his laptop, a survival kit, his phone, which was now slightly damaged from being dropped, and most importantly his credit card, which had enough on it to eat for a few weeks if he stuck to a single cheap but filling meal every day. He would then take out a piece of paper from his pile of paper for a rainy day, and a pen, and he would begin to scribble down a bit of info for his dorm mates. He taped it to the TV screen and he would leave, with his backpack and his pen.
The note read:
'Hey bros,
I'm gonna be gone for a while. Don't freak out. Just have a cool event to attend.
Damon'
After a short bus ride he would arrive at the air port. He would walk through the port before he was stopped by a security guard. "Hang on kid, do you really have the fare to pay for a flight?" the guard would say to him. Damon would read into his jacket pocket and pull out the invitation, "I have this, does this get me anything?" The camera would pan over the security guard's face and he would let out a surprised gasp. "Certainly, right this way, sir," the guard would declare.
It would be a quick walk, bypassing the metal detectors and stuff to a private jet. "It's been 5 years. What took you so long to respond?" the guard would ask him. Damon would answer honestly, "My parents kept selling the invites." The security guard would have his jaw drop, that was the answer he was looking for, which meant Damon was actually the real Damon! He looked so young though! This was the prodigious swordsman that was disqualified from a fencing tournament 5 years ago? He couldn't have been more than 13 at the time! The guard would pull out a night stick to try and test him, but Damon just walked right along ignoring him.
The guard stood confused... did he not feel the Ren? Who was this kid to catch the attention of the prince without any understanding or knowledge of nen?
The flight would take off now, and Damon would enjoy the rather vast supply of various treats available. His enhanced senses managed to without really thinking about it, avoid all of the food that was poisoned, yet he tore away at what food was available to him like it was the first time he'd eaten in a week! The pilot was a little worried. Many precautions had been set up to avoid making the Prince have to kill another invader to the tournament. But Damon just bypassed them like they weren't anything to him. Still, his confidence showed, as he would open his laptop and begin to reminisce about his good old days of fencing and practicing battoujutsu.
He would look at the by-then-viral video of a young him slicing his foes sparring foil clean in half with the exact same quality of sparring foil using a battoujutsu technique. At the time, he only recalled being disqualified, but now that he actually watched it, he realized what he was called for. Murderous intent or something like that? It wasn't much to call him on really, the other person was laying down the attacks just as hard as he was. It wasn't even like he was doing something uncharacteristic of fencing by the looks of it, however a second glance showed that he used battoujutsu to fake a sheathe and then a quick draw using the momentum of his hip torque with a solid in-step which placed him past his foe, but he'd sliced their foil in half. To the normal eye it just looked like a lunge gone right, but anyone with better than average vision would know that it was more than that.
Soon he would arrive at the destination. The pilot would come to the back and speak up, "We've arrived at Dolle's Port. I'd suggest you be on your guard, since you've got a reputation around here as the Prince's Favorite." Without much further ado, the door would open and Damon's ears would pop. He would walk outside of the plane and immediately was assailed by a trio of participants, each wielding a weapon, one a spear, one a sword, one an axe. Damon would watch this occur and take a step back as they would suffer from the three stooges syndrome and get stuck in the door frame.
Damon would look over and speak up to the pilot, "It appears the door's jammed." The pilot would sigh, and responded, "Alright move over." With little else to say on the matter she pulled off a full 540º spin, and slammed her boot heavily into the middle man, destroying his sword and blasting him out of the door frame, and he went soaring, forming a little diamond in the sky as he would fly away. The rest of the assailants would scatter away from the plane, and would wait for a new opportunity. Damon would look over. "Those guys wanted to kill me, but I couldn't feel their killing intent. What's up with that?" he would ask.
The pilot would speak up, "Oh, the Arizu Clan tournament this year has locked the use of n-- Killing intent and abnormal abilities. All participants are locked from it by various means, this year is a tournament of skill." Damon would nod understandingly, "Okay, that makes sense. And that's good for me. I don't have any special abilities, unless you could my sword skills. But even those are a bit rusty." Without much more hesitation on that he would wave to her, and with a wink would say, "Byebye! Cheer for me, okay?" The pilot would blush gently and the door would shut behind him.
It appeared that the area was actually pretty loaded with people too, it was like a flood of people. Armed, unarmed, some more than others. People of large and small sizes. He would walk along and look at the various shops that were set up amongst the crowd. Most of them seemed to be set up to sell weapons, which meant this place was primarily a trade town, not a fishing town. He would walk over to the most ugly-looking shop, poorly thrown together, by the looks of it, the man behind the counter was a mess. But it was a weapon shop. "Um... hey," he would say.
The man behind the counter would jump all of a sudden surprised as he would whip around and clasp his hands together. "Ah, hello! And welcome to my shop!" Damon would blink a bit and speak up, "Ah you see... I don't have a weapon. Would you happen to have a sword I could borrow?" The man would look slightly disappointed and then speak up, "You see, I've only but one sword... It's not much, but it's my family's heirloom. I don't let people borrow it so easily." Damon would raise his invitation and the man would see it and snatch it from his hands, "You're Damon? The one the Prince told me to wait for?" Damon would blink and nod, "I'm Damon West. I used to fence back in the day. I struck an impression with him 5 years ago and he's been sending invites every year to get me to show up."
With that, the man would hand him a sheathed sword, mostly straight, very gently curved. Damon would look at the weapon and then back up, "A chokuto?" He also noticed that he had the invite back in his hand, and as his head went to look up again, he would see that the man and his stand were both gone. Entirely. He would blink and walk along, saying, "Thanks, I'll return it after the tournament."
Finally, all of the distractions being gone and the processes being eliminated, he would show up at the designated spot. He was right on time, as the introductions had begun, with 5 people gracing the giant platform. As introductions concluded, he found that the ticket was important. "I see, it's to get on the cruise..." he would say, and he would smirk. If he was going to have free time, he was going to use it wisely, after all. A signal flare went up into the sky, as he would see mountainous ships sailing ever closer in the distance, which made him realize that is was night time.
He would need to get some sleep if he wanted to be rested enough for a good tournament. He would join the crowd that was swarming the ship with a big smile, and soon he would feel a foot upon his head. A man was rushing ahead in line by literally running atop the heads of the crowd. "Well then..." he would say as he would lift both of his legs in sequence to stretch them out, before he too rushed ahead in line, primarily to catch up with this individual. "Hey man, what's with you?" he would ask this man with a curious gaze.
The man would look over with surprise and grin, "You can do this too? This is going to be a great tournament I can feel it now, haha!" Damon would look confused. Couldn't just about anyone do this? He didn't understand too well that most people weren't like him in that they put themselves through rigorous training early in life and maintained a decent workout habit so that they could maintain the execution of their youthful feats.
Still they made it to the front of the line with little competition, some people occasionally reached to grab at their ankles, but they would be too slow for that. He would eventually wind up on the cruise ship, and he would be placed in a shared hotel room with this individual he was running with. Room 119, Damon West and his new friend Chandler Graves.
Chandler was a tall man of over 6 feet tall, who was light skinned, and wore a relatively simple set of greek attire, which was a toga, modified slightly so that it showed off his abs. A champion belt was on his hips and the rest of the toga went down to about midthigh. He wore geta sandals as the only thing on his bottom half, asides underwear. His hair war green, like Damon's, but was wavy up front, and dreadlocked in the back, tied up into a crazy ponytail, which flared out wildly. He wore a bandanna, but that didn't help him not show off his hair. There wasn't a weapon to be seen on him, but he showed excellent martial skill.
"So you usually work at that amusement park? I was there a few days ago, I don't know why I didn't see you there before," spoke Chandler. Damon would speak up, "Well as an associate the idea is that the uniform makes me blend into the background more than anything. So I just looked like another employee." Chandler would remark, "That's pretty clever. Is that some kind of Nen ability?" Damon would blink with a frown, "Nen? What's that?" Chandler would attain a large sweatdrop over his head, "Um... nevermind. Ah we should get some sleep, so that we aren't caught off guard by anything tomorrow." Damon would have continued pushing the question, but instead he would agree, having good work habits, "Right, sleep."Color Codes
Damon West = #c3e191
Chandler Graves = #ad3d3d
Message [Page 1 of 1]
