Post by Zhou on Jan 13, 2014 22:40:01 GMT -5
Name: Zhou Yuan
Age: 17
Date of Birth: February 8th
Birthplace: Mosaic City
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Face Claim: Komaeda Nagito (Super Dangan Ronpa)
Appearance:
Height: 5'6
Distinguishing Features: (Though shown in the picture, I would like to mention but two things.) About the only distinguishing characteristics of dear Zhou, would be his messy hair, and hazel eyes.
Class: Persona-User
Arcana: Jester
Occupation: High School Student (Member of the Drama Club)
Weapons and Proficiencies (Optional): At the suggestion of his father, to honor his heritage, Zhou was trained intermittently by a paid tutor from the Chinese mainland. After the enactment of the blockade, Zhou's training was cut short, though he never stopped following through with his training exercises. Improvising to make up for his lack of experience in the martial art, he took up learning how to utilize the qijiebian, otherwise known as the seven section chain whip. Easily concealed beneath his sleeve, or by attaching bits of cloth to it, the whip is a deadly tool that mostly inflicts strike damage, although it possesses a sharpened dart at the end, that never seems to connect. With this weapon, Zhou is adept at finding weaknesses in a melee opponent's guard. (Level 1 Weapon)
Personality: (Warning, this is a bit of a lengthy personality post.)
It is best said that Zhou is a man for whom opinion varies greatly for, depending on those whom offer to share an opinion, if there even is one. Appearance-wise, he does not stand out too much in his class, other than for the simple fact that he has quite messy hair on almost every day. That being said, opinions amongst the teachers are where one will find most of the positivity lies in. To them, Zhou is a model student, both studious and quiet, he acts with a single minded drive towards all the work that is given to him. Within the confines of the classroom, the aforementioned drive is almost palpable, for he rarely socializes whilst in the midst of completing schoolwork. This trait is often attributed to either his upbringing, or perhaps a simple desire to complete whatever task is laid before him in flying colors. There is no question as to his passion in academics, and there have been scarcely any reports of him ever being disciplined for breaking the rules. This is not to say that he will never laugh during class, nor is it stated anywhere that he cannot feel during the school day, it is simply that most view this as him valuing his work ethic above all else when a goal is presented before him.
This however, swiftly changes once he is outside of the classroom. Amongst his friends, young Zhou is affectionate as a boy could be without it being absurdly creepy. Amongst his small circle, he is always viewed as the one to hear you out after a bad day, or to pat you on the back for a job well done. To them, it's just the kind of guy he is. Being freed from the classroom seems to break some invisible chain, for he grows much more energetic, happy, really. Only a few ticks short of needing ritalin, he's always the first one to laugh at a joke, no matter how horrible it may be, either at the sheer awfulness of it, or perhaps he just finds it funny by itself. Being around his would be compatriots seems to invigorate him like the light of the sun itself for a plant. There is something about the energy of groups that seemingly always manages to make Zhou smile, and he will always be the first to suggest having a good time, rather than sitting around for too long. Outside of the circle, some view him as a teenager still living out his life as a child, unaware of what the world is going to do to him after high-school. It's not something Zhou likes to speak of, and more often than not it is assumed that it is the fault of his upbringing that makes him focus so hard during school, and act so childish outside of it.
There is no place that Zhou enjoys himself more in, than on the stage with the drama club, within which, he thrives. Taking to the stage is something that fills him with much more joy than the company of his friends could ever bring him to. To members of the stage troupe, he always seems so very invested in his roles, and furthermore, he always strives to improve upon his acting skills, even asking other members of the group how they would instead do his role. Those that take the stage with him say that he almost adopts the personality of his role like a chameleon, as if talking to the character themselves. Emotion seems to pour from his performances, and it seems as if every time the club does something stage-worthy, he is always the first one to try and get in on it. Though his circle of friends is small, it is of course always there. Fouling up during a performance is something he does not take lightly, however, and if he fails in rehearsal, it always seems to trouble him deeply. There is always a constant feeling amongst those in the troupe that he works himself too hard, and invests far too much.
Amongst those whom consider themselves his enemies, it's almost impossible to dent the teenager's armor, as if he takes joy from what they say, reversing the tide. People who have punched him in the face before have become his enemies, and to some he is forgiving to a fault, even allowing, on one instance, for a bully to spit on his shirt without recourse, merely smiling. More often than not, it seems almost impossible to cross the line with Zhou, and even then, nobody gets hurt directly. At home, he is obedient, and follows the rules of his parents as if they were laws decreed unto him by god himself. About the only other defining feature that many seem to note about him, is that he is proud of his Chinese heritage, often getting in trouble with other students because of it. Nothing seems to hurt him, and he never seems to hurt others. Nobody usually notices anything other than his sunny demeanor, and personal investment in every goal he puts himself to. Nobody ever usually cares to look into it, for he's always just so nice, so sweet. As if he loved everyone.
Nobody usually pays mind to why he's always smiling. Nobody ever usually questions why he's so forgiving. Nobody. Ever. Asks.
" Welp...now that that's over."
Zhou is definitely an intelligent teen, of that there is no question. Thriving under stress and the potential of being caught leaves him in absolute ecstacy. There's a certain joy to the act, and if all the world's a stage...well, why not be front and center? What few people ever seem to realize is that Zhou's sunny demeanor is a way for him to get beneath the skin-deep layers with which they present themselves, so that he can dig deep into them like a parasite, and feed off of them. Amongst his friends? Pah, as if you'd call them that...they don't matter, just supporting actors to the true star of the show. It's always fun for him to watch them scurry about like insects, fighting each other now and again and apologizing because of rumors that he loves to spread. There is a near ecstatic state when he watches them pummel each other, and murder each other socially. After all, nobody usually thinks that he could do something like that. Nobody really thinks for themselves. Social elimination is the very means by which he at times finds himself ascending amongst the various circles that call him friend, through the spread of vicious rumors, and of course, all the while, he'll snuggle up to you and hug you, saying "It's okay...I'm still here for you."
Now, there's a little secret for you to be let in on, reader, and hush, keep it between us. Zhou loves to present himself as someone of a different name, with different personalities to different people. There is nothing more to him that gets him excited than seeing that people believe him, that they trust him, and that at any time he could simply break them with secrets. The imp of the perverse, as Poe once called it, the desire to do things simply because one knows they shouldn't...that governs him. Controls him. He takes pleasure from the social ostracization that he sometimes inflicts on others, the emotional and mental anguish placed upon them tastes like the most delicious pastry placed to his tongue. Sweet...the taste of their tears is so very sweet. Physical agony is another part that excites him to no bounds...from the moment he struck his first training partner whilst being tutored, and managed to break his nose, there was just no stopping him from smiling. Something about the emotion of it, the sheer feeling that he could do something wrong and get away with it...god, it was like he had the most intense orgasm of his life.
Sexuality is one of the few things that Zhou hides even better than his intentions, for to him, it doesn't really matter what you have hanging between your legs...you're there. You're supporting the star of the play, and that is what he views as the best role for you. No matter if it's just casual sex, or if you pour your heart out to him, you're the second fiddle in his grand orchestra. Zhou is incapable of loving anyone other than himself, and his warped, narcissistic view on life dictates that he be the one to succeed, or make others fail. True friendship is something alien to him, as if people don't get that the modern interpretations of love and friendship are so paper thin, especially to him. Friends will leave, love will wither and die...to him, that just makes taking care of himself all the more important. His family amounts up to genes, his friends amount up to little puppets to dance with, and his enemies...oh god, if he felt love, it'd be for them. They make his life worthwhile, they give him something to break that is much more difficult...god, they make him so happy.
However...there is something he wouldn't want anyone to know. Nobody in the whole wide world...he's empty. Objects mean more to him than people, appearances more than substance, and his acting matters more to him than even his school work. He must succeed. The little quip about failure during acting? That was perhaps the most true thing to come out of the whole ordeal. There is absolutely nothing on this Earth that he hates more than failure itself. Battle requires perfection, schoolwork demands perfection, and his acting must be perfect lest he grow angry and embittered at his own failings. Now, I know that you and I, dear reader, have shared a secret, but there's another one I need to whisper into your ear. So do come close and listen...that emptiness is what drives him. The desire to keep up in his head, his own superiority over others...the fervent desire for him to hide the fact that he doubts he even has a personality of his own. The theory of the human personality being comprised of so many little chunks from one's upbringing and surroundings frightens him more than death itself...he has to be someone. Has to have an identity...if he doesn't, then what is he? What purpose does he have?
But that's our little secret, and I think honestly, that I can trust you...
Likes:[*] Sweet foods, anything from cake to cookies, really.
[*]Heights. (Odd indeed, but as a boy, he used to watch the stars, wishing that he could catch one. Now he just likes to watch them from tall buildings.)
[*]Watching others fight. (Physical/emotional/mental pain is only enjoyable when inflicted on others.)
[*]Acting
Dislikes: [*]Cranberries.
[*]Being forced to be alone is always a problem for Zhou.
[*]His parents really. They donated the genes and money, now they just get on his nerves.
[*]When he is discovered, Zhou will do almost anything in existence to keep his act from being exposed.
History: When one is the only child of a pair of Chinese immigrants, a certain degree of expectation is placed upon you that is heavier than that of most westerners. Amongst Americans, typically the aforementioned expectations put forth are simple things, like reading, walking, talking...those things were absolutely demanded of Zhou Yuan. Within Chinese households, children are typically put up to larger standards, expected to do better things, and in Zhou's case, it was no different. At every chance in his childhood, his parents intended to instill in the boy a drive to succeed, something that was consistent in both of their backgrounds, for his father was the bastard child of an Englishman in Hong-Kong, and his mother had been born to two traditionalist Manchurians. There are many things we rid ourselves of after growing out of that innocent phase in our lives, such as our innocence, our trust of those around us...for Zhou, the drive to succeed was the one thing that he couldn't erase from his mind about those two's incessant nagging. One thing he was proud of, was that he had raised himself above them on a philosophical level by denying them the satisfaction of instilling their own anti-Japanese sentiment into their son. Truth be told, the two had tried their hardest to get in his head that Mosaic City was once fully Chinese, and would cite every misdeed in the book to explain why the Japanese were evil...Nanking came up often as a focal point.
To have it explained to him by his parents, though their word meant absolutely nothing to him, the two seemed to share the idea that somewhere down the line, a distant grandparent had narrowly escaped the massacre. To have it explained by him, he just didn't care. As a growing boy in the city, he had to come to terms with the fact that he was one of the few Chinese kids in the city, and thus it made life a bit difficult at first. Animosity between the Japanese and Chinese had always been common, the wounds of the second world war never seemed to want to go out in terms of people's memories. With time however, comes tolerance, rather than acceptance, and Zhou eventually found a small contingent of other children that gradually became his earliest circle of friends. Consisting mostly of Japanese ethnicity, the particular group wasn't much to speak of, nor was it a collection of friends that he was willing to show to his parents, partially out of the fear of chastisement, and partly out of his desire to maintain a degree of calm within the Yuan household for more than a few seconds.
Within that group of would-be childhood friends, there was always a defect that each of the children had to possess, that Zhou himself didn't have. Some would be fat, others would be a little slow, it always seemed like he would rake in the ones that nobody else seemed to make friends with early in life. Superficial reasons always seemed to keep people away from these people, and that's what made it so damn easy for him. Sticking up for them, appealing to them, Zhou drew in people through acting the part of their savior, or pretending that he empathized with them. Drawing the moths to flame was easy enough, and it was even easier to convince the group of misfits to do whatever he wanted. Zhou's personality allowed him to dominate them, allowed him to make them do bad, bad things...and it all culminated on a summer day, wherein he suggested that they take a kitten, and place it before a neighbor's dog. Chained to it's doghouse, the animal readily bit into the young beast, and threshed it about like a ragdoll. For Zhou, there was a smile on his face wherein the others had horror imprinted on theirs...doing such naughty things and getting away with it felt so right. So good. Seeing the little animal on the ground, eyes bulging out in shock, that was the payoff. The big one. Slowly, the group began to fade away however, either in horror at what they had done that day, or via moving away. Zhou was alone...he did not like being alone.
On his introduction to grade-school, Zhou did wonderfully at his academics, as was expected of him. School work was easy, something that he strove to prove to his peers. There seemed to be something that was switched on in the child's head however, a single minded drive for perfection, rather than simple success...he wanted to do his work perfectly. Teachers would complain to his parents about the boy's obsession with answering every single question right, and his insistence that he be able to do it again if he didn't. More often than not, both his mother and father would simply say that it was how their son always had been, that they were proud he took such pride in his school work. Placating the teachers was something he had yet to learn, and it was a skill that he wanted to develop fast. "Friends" were easy enough to make for Zhou, but within the confines of the school, all he could observe them doing is occasionally pulling one another's hair, or just indulging in physical violence. Rarely was there an emotional impact that was truly satisfying to the young boy's mind...he craved it really. To him, he needed to see reactions, to see people act the way they do. Something about the very nature of people going on about their daily lives intrigued him, and the moments when they broke that routine, that was the payoff.
By the time he hit early high-school, Zhou had developed somewhat of a strategy, and was very eager to try it out amongst new, and old faces. Zhou was a happy individual to them, between work and his schoolwork. Seldom did his family see a change other than the sheer joy now exhibited by their son. To most, his optimism was almost contagious, and he grew to be known as the boy you wanted to have around to cheer you up. A "Sunny disposition", they called it. Around the same time that most people were out and about looking for dates, Zhou was mastering something of an act...throughout his younger years, he grew fascinated by the Beijing opera, about the prospect of placing himself on stage. After all, the people before seemed to enjoy how he presented himself, so why not try out new ways to show himself? New ways to improve on himself. It went without saying that through this period, he seemed to naturally gravitate towards the drama club, and made many of his little friends there. Many of them seemed to exhibit traits not too far from that of his earliest group, many doubting their self-esteem, the quality of their acting when they were put on the stage, and some even froze up. High-school had presented him with the most grand gift of all, budding emotions, ready to be played against each other to form their own play.
Revelation after revelation hit Zhou about how teenagers worked, and he found himself indulging in a few of the more base ways to manipulate people. Friends going against friends, teachers blaming that one "bad" student for something they didn't do. Petty as the victories were, they were of course still present, and people seemed to love the new him. Putting on mask after mask felt fulfilling, from the mask of empathy, to comforting others in their time of need. On a few rare occasions, he'd present himself as homosexual just to dash the hopes of some fellow, or would snuggle up to some cute lass in class, just to tell them he'd be friends with them. Those were his favorites, really, it was always fun to see people's mental frustration in high-school, especially since they couldn't control it as well as adults. Acting began to be the newest thing he took pride in, loving every second of portraying him as someone new, every time. Taking a step into other people's rolls and investing himself in it, portraying someone entirely unlike him was always so beautiful, so natural.
Just when things couldn't get more beautiful, more absolutely perfect? That was when the blockade locked down the city, that was when paranoia struck a few of his classmates, and that was when he was the most caring, the most affectionate. Time and time again he would whisper into someone's ear, watching as the already on edge teenagers started going at each other like dogs over scraps of meat. Almost sexual ecstasy hit his frame every time he could see someone crying in a corner over something he had done. Often, other than the emotions, it was the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten away with it that fed him in those early days. However...something started dawning on him as he began to spend time delving into his books, and managing his schedule. Reading into books on the human mind had always proved fruitful, but one theory started to jab into his skull over and over. It was a widely accepted one, that humans base the entirety of their personality on those they are around, on the situations that occurred..the true self was never true. No, no, that was silly. Was it? Time and time again, he found himself wracking his brain with the thought that he had never truly been himself. That such a feat was impossible. Having built up an image of himself as perfect, intelligent, a grand actor worthy of praise through his deeds and plays! This...this couldn't be happening.
New students seemed to stop coming in as the blockade went on, and months into it, something in the manipulative bastard's mind began to unravel. Nothing new was under his sun, and with the end of high-school fast approaching, he could see that his fun was about to end. Teenagers were so easy, so receptive to what he could do...losing out on that demographic, on the most fun he had had in his life...he couldn't bear it. Questions about his true identity, coupled with whispered thoughts that maybe he was hiding something...it put so much stress on him that he lost it completely. One fine night, he found himself wandering out of the household, deep into the subway system that had been blocked off for days now. From what he understood, the military had cordoned things off...so maybe a little peek down here, to see (hopefully), bums and trash would set him back on the right course...he saw nothing but darkness in and of itself. Just as his frustration was about to compel him to take the nearest trash can and throw it, he saw something crawl from the darkness, something new. A pathetic globule of darkness, with stunted hands outstretched before it in an effort to crawl at him. Stepping back, he found himself immersed in the pitch blackness of a maintenance room...what was thought to be one shadow, turned into four...then five...
Something new overcame him at that moment, a sense of mortal dread for his very life engulfed Zhou like the maw of Satan on Brutus. Closing his eyes, he prepared himself for the end of his short existence...the others would believe him to have been some wonderful boy, and that was enough for him...and then, he heard a noise. Spinning slowly within his hand, was but a card. A simple card, that defied the laws of nature, plastered with the image a woman held aloft, a multi-headed beast below her...and a flaming sconce above her. Something had woken up deep within his gullet, a burning sensation only described as the warmth of a raging fire. Crushing the card in his hand, there was a look of utter joy on his face as it shattered...and he murmured to himself "Persona...". All of it came so naturally, the rage, the lashing, the destruction of the beasts before him was so orgasmic that he swore that he had just experience life anew. By the time all was said and done, the maintenance room was utterly trashed, and Zhou stood, his head up, facing a broken light-bulb. Something had woken up in him that night...it felt so right. Since then, he's been heading further and further into the breach, through the subway, into the outer circle...he wanted them. Coveted whatever it was that they owned, if it was anything. Destroying them was a new high, but it didn't mean he'd give up his others.
Whatever had happened down there had opened a gateway, and it was going to be so much fun...
OOC Name: Edgar-Allan-Fro, Shinjibro Arafroman
Persona:Black Knight
Appearance: A truly fearsome creature to behold, the black knight exhibits armor that has seemingly been blackened by fierce fires. With it's armor almost always coated in a thick layer of soot, the ornateness goes to waste on the piece. Burning within it's helmet seems to be little more than a living flame of intense heat, which shimmers and occasionally dims according to the situation. A ragged black cape is worn from it's back, and it's helm is flanked from either side by slicked back thorn-like protrusions on it's pauldrons. Extending up, with near horn-like protrusions coming out of either side, the flame proper is revealed through a corinthian style guard. It's lower half fades away as it gets nearer to it's host, consisting of a sputtering vortex of ash and flame. It wields in it's hand, what would be a greatsword amongst normal humans, but holds it aloft in one hand, alongside a shield, both appearing to be warped and twisted by the flames, whatever ornateness they once held, being lost.
Persona Lore: In Authurian legend, there are many tales abound about black knights of various backgrounds and strengths, more often than not being defeated, or turned against their former cause. Amongst these black knights was one killed by Sir Gareth himself whilst traveling to rescue lady Lyonesse.
Skills: Agi, Skewer, Poisma
Strengths and Weaknesses: Above all else, The Black Knight is strong against Agi, and is weak to Bufu.
