Post by Zexion on Apr 29, 2007 6:58:21 GMT -5
Name: Zexion
Alias: The Cloaked Schemer
Age: Somewhere in his twenties?
Height: 5'4
Weight: 120
Gender: Male
Alliance: Organization
Weapon: The sheer manipulation of mind and will, his own intelligence against that of his opponent, using their own fears and ideas against them. There is also a mysterious book he keeps with him, and his abilities with deception make such a simple item as a book seem like a powerful weapon indeed. Also strong is his sense of smell, it's uncanny the way he can know people by their scents and even know when they die by the disappearance of their scent. Perhaps this sensetivity to smell is also what makes him so keen with cooking.
Bio: Before losing his heart, Zexion's 'other' went by the name of Ienzo. Ienzo was a resident of Radiant Garden and one of the scientists working with Ansem until their foolish meddling with the darkness lead them to their own destruction, and the rebirth of a great and terrible evil. Being of strong will and heart, though, Ienzo maintained his shell and became a Nobody, taken in to the Organization and warping his name to the one he currently has with the usual addition of the 'x'. His unofficial position of power in the Castle Oblivion incident was due only to his ability to think, but it also lead to his downfall at the hands of Riku, a boy shadowed by the darkness but still fighting for the light.
Personality: Quiet, level headed, and generally laid back, Zexion's height had never been a disadvantage to him or a reason for others to doubt his ability due to his intelligence. Thoughtful, Zexion is known to be quite surprisingly domestic, having a knack for tasty foods and quite the taste for them as well. Quite mature despite his youthful appearance, but not unknown to be subject to the idle ponderings of a curious mind.
Appearance: Shortest of the Organization, except perhaps Roxas, Zexion is noticably smaller in general, being thin and lithe and quite a bit younger looking than most of them. His hair is a blue-ish silvery gray, cut in a great variety of lengths, layered, with the longest locks hanging in his face, reaching a few inches past his chin.
Picture:
Other:
Roleplay Sample: Playing with your food again, Zexion? He could hear his own voice in his head say as one gloveless hand poked idly at the last few slices of his hom emade pickles on the blank white plate, sitting on the blank white table, in the blank white room. He'd left the plate on the table out of courtesy and had come back to find several pieces still there. He'd eaten one but gotten distracted on his way to pick up the second one and so was left to sit and ponder. Number VI had been quite glad about his turn to cook but now he felt a little disco--... Felt? Hah! No. Now he was faced with the illusion of feeling discontent, and, with all his power over the illusions and his own senses, could not disband the feeling from his mind.
His still gloved hand moved up to brush the hair out of his face a little, a few strands having fallen and poking at his eye. What to do... What to-Oh? Something smelled unfamiliar. What was that, he wondered silently. His ungloved hand stilled, poised over the plate and waiting for identification of whoever or whatever he was smelling. No, he didn't know what it was. Standing, leaving the pickles on their plain white plate on the plain white table in the plain white room to sit and be ignored all alone instead of with company, Zexion decided to go investigate.
Alias: The Cloaked Schemer
Age: Somewhere in his twenties?
Height: 5'4
Weight: 120
Gender: Male
Alliance: Organization
Weapon: The sheer manipulation of mind and will, his own intelligence against that of his opponent, using their own fears and ideas against them. There is also a mysterious book he keeps with him, and his abilities with deception make such a simple item as a book seem like a powerful weapon indeed. Also strong is his sense of smell, it's uncanny the way he can know people by their scents and even know when they die by the disappearance of their scent. Perhaps this sensetivity to smell is also what makes him so keen with cooking.
Bio: Before losing his heart, Zexion's 'other' went by the name of Ienzo. Ienzo was a resident of Radiant Garden and one of the scientists working with Ansem until their foolish meddling with the darkness lead them to their own destruction, and the rebirth of a great and terrible evil. Being of strong will and heart, though, Ienzo maintained his shell and became a Nobody, taken in to the Organization and warping his name to the one he currently has with the usual addition of the 'x'. His unofficial position of power in the Castle Oblivion incident was due only to his ability to think, but it also lead to his downfall at the hands of Riku, a boy shadowed by the darkness but still fighting for the light.
Personality: Quiet, level headed, and generally laid back, Zexion's height had never been a disadvantage to him or a reason for others to doubt his ability due to his intelligence. Thoughtful, Zexion is known to be quite surprisingly domestic, having a knack for tasty foods and quite the taste for them as well. Quite mature despite his youthful appearance, but not unknown to be subject to the idle ponderings of a curious mind.
Appearance: Shortest of the Organization, except perhaps Roxas, Zexion is noticably smaller in general, being thin and lithe and quite a bit younger looking than most of them. His hair is a blue-ish silvery gray, cut in a great variety of lengths, layered, with the longest locks hanging in his face, reaching a few inches past his chin.
Picture:
Other:
Roleplay Sample: Playing with your food again, Zexion? He could hear his own voice in his head say as one gloveless hand poked idly at the last few slices of his hom emade pickles on the blank white plate, sitting on the blank white table, in the blank white room. He'd left the plate on the table out of courtesy and had come back to find several pieces still there. He'd eaten one but gotten distracted on his way to pick up the second one and so was left to sit and ponder. Number VI had been quite glad about his turn to cook but now he felt a little disco--... Felt? Hah! No. Now he was faced with the illusion of feeling discontent, and, with all his power over the illusions and his own senses, could not disband the feeling from his mind.
His still gloved hand moved up to brush the hair out of his face a little, a few strands having fallen and poking at his eye. What to do... What to-Oh? Something smelled unfamiliar. What was that, he wondered silently. His ungloved hand stilled, poised over the plate and waiting for identification of whoever or whatever he was smelling. No, he didn't know what it was. Standing, leaving the pickles on their plain white plate on the plain white table in the plain white room to sit and be ignored all alone instead of with company, Zexion decided to go investigate.