t h e R O L E P L A Y E R
Alias:
Meow
Gender:
Female
Experience:
Er, give or take three years; intermediate?
Characters:
. . .
Comments:
Nuthin' whatsoever
t h e C H A R A C T E R
t h e B A S I C SName:
Demyx
Nicknames:
Dem, Demmy, Mullet-Boy
Alias:
IX, The Melodious Nocturne
Age:
Twenty years of age
Gender:
Male
Race:
Nobody
Alignment:
Neutral
Sexuality:
Heterosexualt h e A P P E A R A N C EPicture:
[ ix ]
Face:
Demyx from Kingdom Hearts II
Appearance:
Not one of the tallest of the Organization, Demyx stands at a reasonable height of five feet and eight inches, managing to surpass that of Roxas and Zexion. Height is not the first thing to be on his list of worries; as a matter of fact, the blonde doesn't care to think of it. Afterall, in his personal opinion, height is a meager thing and means nothing in terms of strength or durability. Surely he would hate to be standing so tall, towering over those much smaller than him. A smaller stature is easily left unnoticed and thus, is possibly the more beneficial - in other words, petiteness comes in handy, overall.
Demyx's hair-style isn't elaborate and out of this world, but you don't see many people with mullets running around the vicinity very often. With that being said, the Nobody has a golden-hue to his blonde hair, being kept rather neat and tidy. Most of the soft locks are found atop his head and down his thin neck; this is where you see most of the golden quality, whereas at the sides, where it seems more shaven, the colour turns into what you could call dirty-blonde. Despite being rather meticulous about it, a few stray locks of blonde hair fall onto his forehead from the middle of his hair-line, not quite long enough to obscure even the slightest bit of vision.
Perhaps the most crucial part to Demyx's appearance is his face: though he may be a Nobody, and automatically dubbed as unfeeling as others of his kind, his face displays such emotion and character that it makes it stupendously hard to believe that such a care-free man could be heartless. If one cares to find what may be on the musician's mind, all they truly have to do is sneak one glimpse of his face - that is all it takes to clearly understand his reaction/opinion. The minor features come together to make realistic emotion come to life, effectively showing what is up. This can all be foretold by the way his eyebrows either descend or ascend; by the way his lips quirk upward or downward; or even by snatching a glance at his eyes. Commingled together, it truly throws you off guard. When you add Demyx's movements (i.e the motion of his hands and how he steps backwards or sidesteps as if offended) along with those facial expressions, it all stacks up to something easily comprehensible. In any case, the Nocturne's face is a careful complexion of pale hues, giving off a nearly morbid look, if it wasn't for his usual cheerfully lit face.
Stature-wise, the blonde-haired musician's frame is no where near as muscular or buff as that of Lexaeus', nor as slim as Axel's. Instead, the Melodious Nocturne's build is what you would call in between the two; at an equilibrium. Thus, his strength, speed, and stamina is balanced out, which is good enough for the musician.
When it comes to clothing, it is obvious to deduce that Demyx accompanies those of the infamous Organization XIII. The attire has become something of a trademark, both recognizable and memorable. It's hard to forget seeing one of the black-clad members, especially when spotted during the thick of the day when it is the most hottest. Nevertheless, the traditional black trench coat, sometimes varying in length depending on the member wearing it, suffices for the higher Nobodies. Like most of the other members, the hoody attached to the simplistic coat, which practically covers every and all features, is often pulled over the face to cover it in shadow. Except when around others known, or when it is not needed, of course. From either side of the starting of the zipper, a silver chain is clipped, as is two beaded chains that hang loosely downward. The said zipper runs down the whole length of the trench coat through the middle; however, it is left unzipped from the waist down, revealing darker-black pants. It also proves to be helpful, making maneuverability efficient. His feet, like the others, is sheathed in boots no different in colour than the rest, perhaps being a lighter shade. As well, dark-leathered gloves encase both hands; perhaps to protect, or just for show.
In any case, Demyx has no other clothing and is only seen in the Organization's black trench coat.
t h e F I G H TWeapons:
> > S I T A R < <
The only equipment that Demyx has and uses is his trusty sitar, a musical instrument and a tell-tale weapon. Seeing as this sitar is about its master's height, and looks extremely heavy to boot, you would think that it would be difficult to wield - much less hold up - especially for the likes of Demyx. But apparently, the weapon weighs nothing at all, as the musician can effortlessly spin it around elaboratively with one hand. Though if struck by the instrument, the victim would probably disagree with the fact of its lightness.
The instrument isn't of a dull colour; the sitar is of vibrant blues, a shimmering white, and consists of some colourful yellow thrown in. It's trimmed with the white, the strings being the same colour; the frets are of the bright yellow, whilst most of it is a dark blue and the rest more of a dull-like blue. At the end is three "spikes," tipped with the blue-white colour; this is the part of the sitar that is mostly used to attack an opponent in close-quarters - unless Demyx feels like smacking them around with the blunt end. His sitar looks remarkably like the Nobody symbol.
There's a short process to be made before the Nobody can summon it: by thrusting his hand above his head, he can assemble particles of water found in the air together to form a decent-sized globe. Afterward, the mass of liquid convulses, spanning out into the shape of his notable sitar. Once the water speedily evaporates out of existance, the blue-and-white sitar is left in Demyx's gloved hand. It doesn't take too long to fabricate, although it may seem so.
Abilities:
> > P O R T A L S < <
Demyx is not at a loss for means of transportation. Every single member of the Organization has the capability to use the portals, which are made of solely nothing: even the lowly neophytes have been granted the simple ability. An incantation nor a gesture is fundamental; all the user has to do is give a second's thought and energy toward conjuring the mass of nothing, and it appears without a moment's hesitation.
The portal is useful in mostly any situation; whether it be a necessity to escape a dangerous conflict, or to get somewhere instantly. It beats the like of a gummi ship. Possibly the only downside is the temperature when going through; it's as if the contents of the portal are stuffed with gallons of ice, inducing a freezing ambient.
(This is how I imagine the portals are like going in. There is no solid evidence of this fact that I am aware of. If it's not acceptable, I'll revise it accordingly.)
> > W A T E R . B A R R I E R < <
The name of the ability is as it's implied: Demyx can summon a withstanding barrier made purely of water to slide up from the ground, which is seen as geysers spaced closely together to encompass the musician's surroundings. Nothing can, ultimately, get pass this "shield" in a frontal attack; the action is severely rebuked, sending the instigator flying a few reasonable feet. However, if one has the leg-strength (or ability) to clear the aquatic barrier, it is possible to land a blow from above. The shock of it would mostly likely counteract the protective geysers.
> > G E Y S E R S < <
Unlike the ability above, these geysers aren't made to be side-by-side to protect its user. Instead, Demyx can make the vehement rush of water erupt from the ground in an explosive burst, another one following in suit in front, and so on. The act is done quickly, and so, in the span of the ten seconds that it takes, five to eight geysers have been expelled from the ground. This ability is generally used when an opponent is directly confronting the Melodious Nocturne, as it is typically easy to dodge otherwise. It can only go forward: turns are not made optional.
> > B U B B L E . B E A M < <
Another ability that can be easily avoided. Like the geysers, the "bubble beam" only advances in a straight line, incapable of moving to the left, right, or to pursue the intended victim. Though it is still handy, and makes a good long-range attack if the foe is unheedful, or is using an attack that is weaker than the bubble beam and is unable to be disengaged. Although, the chances of the attack being weaker is low - it seems the shot of bubbles is mostly efficient in aggravating the enemy.
> > W A T E R . D U P L I C A T E S < <
Again, the name implies what the ability can do. With a smooth movement of his fingers against the sitar's strings to produce a small bout of music, clones of water come to life, appearing to come from Demyx himself. Obviously, they are replicates of the water-user, and no where near to his original strength. Oftentimes they are used as a distraction, or to irritate an offender in battle. They aren't hard to destroy at all, and one can make use of them when one of the clones turn into a music note, a signal of an imposing attack. By grabbing the end of the duplicate and swinging it over the head forcefully, the opponent can wipe out nearly all the others without breaking a sweat. If they're close enough to the blonde-haired Nobody, they can easily get to the man before the note expires. In that case, they can use the clone to hit him hard.
Magic:
> > W A T E R < <
Having the ability to manipulate water, Demyx can mold and shape it to his needs, and it is often found being exploited in the thick of battle. Though water in any shape or form near by is not necessary, the Nocturne's water-based attacks are made noticeably more powerful when found near the liquid. Since it is only taking what is already there and then manipulating it to his will, it takes no strength as making water out of nothing does.
> > C U R E (curaga) < <
No-one is left without this useful spell at hand; what would you do with yourself when injured excessively, without a potion at hand? The facile spell takes barely any time to come under effect, and is also proved more beneficial in the thick of combat. While pulling out a potion during a nerve-wracking fight takes a few moments, possibly more when under pressure, a simple gesture and uttering of the magical word curaga takes less time and is practically done with the snap of the fingers.
Summons:
- Heartless
- Dusks & Dancers
- Sitar
Drive Forms:
None
t h e P E R S O NPersonality:
To others at first impression/appearance, the one word to describe Demyx might come across as cheerful; or rather childish. The blonde, in a manner of speaking, likes to keep contact with his innerchild: it's as if he is afraid that if he doesn't, he'll forget the wonderful sensations and bombardment of feelings, like what a child figures out along his or her life. It is because of this that he misses and yearns for his heart, more so than most of the Organization. But he doesn't allow that to put down his spirit: it's rare to see the blonde-haired musican broodful or flat-out gloomy, even if it were to be false, pretend emotion. In all intents and purposes, Demyx never attempts at hiding his thoughts, clearing communing them through his facial features. Though the higher ranking members may reprimand him for such a thing, since they can't feel emotions that come from the heart, it doesn't quite effect the easy-going musician. He'd be like a puppy; redundant. No matter what they may say, he tries not to let them influence him. Albeit, the water-user can come off as "bi-polar," switching moods every so often. Though it is not so common, it happens: like it had in the incident at Hollow Bastion upon his second encounter with Sora and friends.
Believably, Demyx is not a lover of carnage, bloodbath, or battling. If given the opportunity, the musician would sidestep anything that involves drawing out a weapon and engaging in combat; he'd rather be kept whole and unbeaten, thanks. If anything, pain is unbearable to him - and pain always accompanies that of battle. They are a constant pair which he is clearly disdainful of; if he could, the sitar that has become both a liable weapon and instrument of music would only be used to produce soft-spoken melodies. In result, others may find that the blonde is in no way like the stereotypical lion that braves absolutely anything: instead, it is assumed that he is cowardly. Perhaps he is, if only a bit; when forced into a situation of life or death, Demyx does take a stand, if reluctantly. A stray dog may not seem as a threat, but when cornered, the animal fights back savagely - a perfect comparison to the Nobody. Maybe not as savage, though.
Because the Melodious Nocturne is picked on for either his "cowardice," weakness in combat, or hair-style, the Nobody takes to sarcasm. If no-one will stand up for him, he might as well, right? And sarcasm is the perfect way to do it. That, or be slightly antagonizing to the insulters. Either way, Demyx does get fed up with the nettling, if he no longer has the patience to ignore them. When that occurs, he mostly takes to his sitar to calm his frayed nerves instead of being sarcastic or antagonizing. Being the accomplished musician he is, music is his one solace, the only way to escape the worries of life and to elude the reality that he can't feel. It also helps him to forget, if momentarily, the fact of his non-existance - the cruel fate of a Nobody. By playing something alike to a serenade, or notes that speak of tranquility, the Nocturne's mind becomes calm and he immerses himself in the song.
Usually, his mood is determined by the melody that is played from the sitar. Chances are if the flow of music is slow and calm, almost soothing, he is in a composed state of mind. When the notes sound harsh and quick, it's obvious by listening alone that the mullet-haired musician is in a ferocious mood, which isn't that characteristic or common. The same goes with every kind of mood out there: if you care to pay close attention to the beat of the music being played, you can assume what it can be.
Homeworld:
The World That Never Was
Companions:
None
Background:
Before his joyless days of a Nobody, Demyx had been someone. Someone who had truly existed, who had a family to call his own. Back then, he had been known as Myde.
His parents were simple people; his father, Cristovao, had been a fisherman while his wife, Lorenza, stayed at home and knitted things that were necessity, from scarves to blankets: to make a long story short, anything that could be made from yarn, she produced. They lived quite contentedly in a small village, christened Lockenhart, near an untainted sea teeming with life. The population barely surpassed one-hundred, and thus, no-one was a stranger to each other, unless they had come to visit from the other village a few miles away. Nevertheless, the village people were satisfied with their small, passable community.
For a long while, Cristovao and Lorenza felt as if cursed. Every attempt at having a child had been in vain; more miscarriages than they didn't dare to count, and one still-born. Quickly they were growing dubious, ready to give up on the aspect of ever having a child to call their own, even one. And, eight months after their last failure, it was like their dismay had been answered with a happier call; Myde was born, if premature, and it was all they ever could have asked for. Now proud to call himself a father, the man stood joyously by his overjoyed wife, and there they declared their new son as Myde.
Being their one and only son, the small boy grew in a tender surrounding, and tended to be somewhat spoiled. They tried to make his life merry: because if he was happy, they were happy. Myde came to learn quickly that he was the light of their lives at an early age, and thus, he went out of his way to be a good-natured kid, who tried not to quarrel with his parents nor make their lives difficult. Mostly, he did what they asked without complaint: plus, since he had been born premature and was their only child, his parents were over-protective. Though he put up with it, if thinly.
Soon enough, when Myde's attention span broadened, which was at the age of five, he began to grow curious as to where his sire went every morning. When the opportunity arised, Myde innocently asked his beloved father where he waltzed off to in the morn. Of course, his father obliged, and demurely told him of his trips out to sea to catch the fish that put food on the table. With this newfound knowledge, the blonde unhesitantingly asked to accompany him one day. However, his father insisted that he was too young; he could tag along when he was a little older. Though Myde's resolve was steel, and he eventually won over his parent. It was the next day that he found himself in the small boat, right smack in the middle of the sea with only his sire as company. At first it was mind-numbing, and the sensation of the boat being lulled and rocked by the undulating waves instilled fear. Although with some reassurance on his part, Cristovao coaxed the young boy out of his fright and showed him the wonders of the sea; how it couldn't be tamed by mortal men; what it was like when the sun set below the horizon and spooled vibrant colours over the surface; et cetera. Now in awe of its magnificence instead of its turmoils, Myde rapidly became enraptured with the sea, and anything to do with it; thus, his love for water was born.
Upon coming back to the warmth of their home later that night, Myde had been denied the privilege of fishing along side his father, much to his disappointment. Perhaps if his mother hadn't been so fearful of his safety, the five-year-old could have convinced his father with a hard-wrought tantrum; his mother was uneasy to make yield, and he knew trantrums would not throw her off course. To quell what he saw as an injustice, Myde frequently visited the sea, silently studying it by either a close or far distance.
Even a few years later, when he was eight, did Myde admire the sea. It was almost like an obsession - at least, that's what his mother saw it. Determined to get him interested in something else other than the dreaded mass of water, she approached the only man who knew the ways of music among the small populace. After a short discussion, it was decided that the old, retired teacher would find the one instrument that would catch Myde's attention, and instruct him on how to use it. After several attempts, the white-haired man found the one object of the boy's desire; the sitar. Happy to have found another thing to do, Myde eagerly threw himself into the subject of music, readily listening to all that his teacher had to offer. In the space of a few weeks, he was accustomed to the instrument and could play a few simple laments and serenades.
By the time he had grown up and turned the age of twenty, he was known throughout the whole town to be a successful and accomplished musician, much to his parents' glee. Whenever there happened to be a wedding - which wasn't occasional - Myde would be invited to play the music there, and he serenely accepted every offer. Though he had acquired a love for the music that was produced from his instrument, his admiration for the sea never did burn out. At days when he had time to himself, the blonde-haired musician took strolls down the shoreline of the sea, often sitting down on a protuding rock (the shore had few sand; it was mostly a rock-like terrain) to balance his sitar on a knee and play music for himself.
He regretted it at one point, however.
After a rather glorious party for the whole town, Myde went to view the sea once again before departing for home: it was late, though it wasn't as if he was worried. The town was peaceable and knew no murderers or thieves, and by now, everyone knew that his favourite area was the shoreline. So if anyone did happen to need him, they could find him there. Reaching his desired, jutted rock, the blonde made to sit - the sight in his peripheral vision halted him. Bemused and intrigued, Myde glanced over to what he saw to be a creature of some sort: never had he once encountered such a thing. It was interesting, he supposed, but he had a strange feeling about it. Inspecting it's eerily glowing yellow eyes and tiny, twitching black body, the man couldn't think of any animal that looked anywhere close to this new being. Much to his surprise, three more materialized from the ground from what appeared to be darkness. And all four had their luminous eyes on him.
Shocked and dumbfounded, Myde unconsciously backed up away from the mysterious creatures, who advanced slowly as if they knew he had no chance at escaping. Though he intended to escape, and so, he turned his attention to the sea behind him. Maybe they couldn't swim: that was his ticket out of there. Bolting just as one of the Shadows pounced forward, Myde plunged himself into the salty water, resurfacing with a gasp to turn his eyes on the Heartless. Crestfallen in seeing them standing there like watchdogs, the musician inched backwards for safety measures - the water wasn't too deep here. Although, a feeling of insecurity and warning started to tug at him. Almost literally. Realizing that he was, most unfortunately, in an undertow's grasp, Myde frantically made for shore, despite the lingering beasts there. It was to no avail, and he was dragged down into the water; the surprise of it all had lost precious air. Unable to free himself, the blonde's last thought was how ironic it was for this tragedy to occur to him.
The day after, his body was found washed on shore; the more educational people of the town assumed that he had somehow drowned. Though this wasn't so. The strong current had released Myde shortly after he had passed out, resulting in the blonde-haired man to be pushed ashore by the waves. The Shadows, having been vigilant, leaped for the chance and devoured his heart as he lay there, unconscious.
It was then that Myde found himself in a foreign, alien place, with neon lights flashing at him. Having no recollection of anything past, the musician had stumbled through The World That Never Was as if in a dream, feeling a dreadful aching numbness in his chest. He was sure that something was lost, but he couldn't think of what. In quite the reasonable time, Myde came across the Organization, the Superior inviting him to join the ranks. Still confounded by the lack of feeling in his body, the blonde wistfully agreed. There, he was dubbed as Demyx, the Melodious Nocturne; already, Myde seemed to be a far-off name.
Roleplay Sample:
Of course the casual musician never once cared to look over his shoulder to see if anyone was there. The thought never crossed his mind, and he failed to notice the Cloaked Schemer's presence quite thoroughly. Chances were if the blonde had the slightest inclination that Zexion had been there, he wouldn't have dared behaved like he had. The gloomy-looking Nobody wasn't exactly comfortable to be around, seeing as Demyx himself was, most surely, the opposite of the grey-haired teen-ager. Even if he was the shorter, and younger, he was his superior and intimidating in his own way. It was mostly why Demyx disliked lingering around the castle with his comrades; the fact of being placed higher in ranking than him was cause for nervousness, and not just with Zexion.
Now, with the lessening of the rain, the pounding it produced as it made contact with the earth was dim in noise. And that was how Demyx was brought to be aware that Zexion was there, through his clearing of the throat. Biting down on his lip sincerely, the mullet-haired Nobody carefully turned around, as if he could trip over the hem of his cloak from the simple gesture. He didn't need to see the young man's face to know who he was; his drawl was rather easy to recognize. "O-oh. Zexion. It's...a surprise seeing you here." Not really in the mood to be as formal as Zexion usually was - not like he was at all, anyway - Demyx tried for wear a smile. How long had the Schemer been standing there for? Shifting his weight unnecessarily, the Melodious Nocturne removed his wary gaze from the other member to rest it on the ground. Usually, Zexion didn't bother himself by finding out where he went, when he did leave the castle for a breather and some alone time. Did he think he was going to turn his back on them? Or do something just as treacherous? Even if not, Demyx was still suspicious about the fact of the Nobody being here. If not for those reasons, what? Definitely not just to have a cool chat with a lesser member of the Organization.
No way in hell. But then again, the Schemer's motives were hard to decipher at most times. And he had been wrong before.