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[color=#3A6629][size=400][font=Brush Script MT]Sabine Marx[/font][/size][/color]
Sabine Marx <Pronunciation:Za-bean Marks>
None. Or at least, none to his face, if you want to keep your features the way they are.
Mid Twenties (3,500-4,000 years, give or take. You lose count after a while)
Sabine is a tall, slim man with bright green eyes and flaxen pale hair. His light skin covers sleek muscle and the angular planes of his body. He’s not a showy man, and his body reflects that, hiding strength under a slight guise. His pale blonde hair reaches down to his compact shoulders and hugs his face, his strong jaw, when it is not pulled back. Of recent he’s taken to leaving it down. The green eyes, often cold and impassive, are flecked with gold, as if kissed by the sun. He has thin, inquisitive eyebrows of a slightly darker shade than his hair, and thin lips that often remain in a tight line. He stands at six foot three inches, a height that seems even taller due to his lanky form. He usually dresses formally, shirt, vest, jacket, often in dark colors. The dark colors don’t help the illusion that all his color’s been bleached away. It probably has, considering he spends all his free time out of doors. Though he is slight, he holds an air of power about himself, from the look in his eyes to the way he walks, it isn’t hard to tell Sabine is a king and he’s fully aware of it.
He is the King, he doesn’t have to work. Past all the work dealing with his subjects and with the other Kings.
As he is slim and lithe, Sabine prefers swords and rapiers for their elegance, and he’s very handy with them, able to take down larger foes with shadow-like precision. He’s also skilled with aim and precision, as his deadly little hat trick, what with summoning and shooting little collections of light from his palms. He’s also partial to throwing knives for that reason, and other such small projectiles. He, of course, is also skilled in hand to hand combat, though he dislikes it because it is simply too unrefined. He will do what he has to though, and his combat is always precise and merciless, he has no morals when it comes to fighting. Why not kick a man when he’s down if that’s what it takes to win.
Generally, Sabine is a quiet, reflective sort of man. He’s uninterested in sport and what most people consider fun for the most part, he views such things as a waste of time unless they have some kind of gain, past the enjoyment of the moment. He likes to rationalize things as well, make logical reasons for everything. Beyond that, however, he isn’t a fan of building relationships unless they are absolutely necessary. He views his underlings as pawns to be moved, which doesn’t always work out for the best, because he never seems to take in to his plans the fact that they are people who have emotions and aren’t mindless servants. But the relationships he does build, and some he’s fallen into without quite realizing it, are very strong, because Sabine is a man firm in his actions, and generally steady. Unless, of course, you make him angry. Anger is not something Sabine likes, because it is something he cannot control. In fact, he hates things that make him angry, because they, by the transitive process, also are unable to be controlled, at least in a sense. Sabine prides himself in being cool and collected, refined. If anything breaches his icy exterior with his knowledge, he often decides to eradicate the thing, whatever it might be.
Sabine isn’t very good at noticing his emotions though, especially the sneakier ones. He’s madly protective of what he considers his possessions, inanimate and animate, tangible and intangible. He does not like people breaching his personal space, no one may be near enough to touch him with the exception of a few people he considers ‘friends,’ though that is much too strong a word for Sabine. Perhaps ‘not threats’ would be a better way to describe the small handful of people allowed to approach him. On the other hand, he does not have the same qualms about touching other people, so long as he is in control of the contact, he doesn’t mind lifting someone up by the front of his shirt and tossing him around a bit. He’s also very interested in the way the mind works and all things psychological. He likes picking apart the way people think, deciding their shortcomings and either deciding how to take advantage of those flaws or fixing them, depending on the person. For example, in some ways he views his personal servant a project that he must fix and grow to perfection; though at the same time he’s very protective of her. He doesn’t realize that, however.
Sabine could also be described as self centered, because he is. Though he is very intelligent, sharp, he can be very oblivious to things around him because he’s too focused on the minute parts to see the larger picture, and he isn’t good at sensing other people’s emotions as well, which adds in part to his inability to notice certain things about people. The anger that constantly simmers under his layer of ice, however, is another good reason he isn’t good at understanding others. It’s a constant chore to manage such a rage, and sometimes it is better to turn a blind eye to another if it threatens his own composure or his person. Sometimes his mind does such things on its own without his permission, and that problem has grown over the decades and centuries, making Sabine very much a man in his own little world.
Sabine is also a lazy user of affectionate terms because he finds them curious. He’s a great fan of irony and satire, especially the human takes on the subjects. He often uses such things when he toys with others, because it twists their minds and it’s rather amused to see people confused. Sabine loves games and stories as well, which on its own seems rather juvenile, but actually was only something he gleaned later in life. Lowering things to game status makes them easier to logic his way through, or manipulate to his pleasing, and he often makes a sort of sport with playing with his servants: laying their emotions out flat and tearing them apart without ever even touching them. He’s a man of efficient words primarily, and his games follow suit. He likes to win as well, as that is of course the point of a game, is it not? He is fond of a good challenge though, and sometimes walks the fine line between anger and sport with his games, perhaps one of the only entertainments he enjoys, because he believes it strengthens his mind and his wit as he’s playing. He loves books due to his love of words, and he loves understanding the curious effects of other people’s personalities and emotions. He’s consumed a great amount of human literature over the years, gleaning information about most every subject a human has ever thought to write about.
Overall, Sabine is a bi-layer man, cold, manipulativ e, and efficient on one side, but oblivious and strongly passionate on the other, because when he emotes, said emotions are often to the extremes, because all others are swallowed under the ice. He’s strong, but his strengths are weaknesses as well. He’s intelligent because of his curiosity, but it often tugs him into his situations where his slightly oblivious nature draws his attention away from the truth of the matter, and undermines his careful façade.
Sabine has an uninteresting past, to be quite honest. From birth his purpose was the replace his father as king when the daemon died, and he was raised efficiently to do so, the only son of the king and his ‘queen’ who was often away, more interested in indulgence than in affairs of the castle and her husband, who wasn’t very interested in her either, past the need for a male heir. She was an incredibly smart woman, and sun-kissed too, but not particularly lust inciting in body. He had a single older sister, but she’s long dead. Of what Sabine cannot recall, it was when he was in his first few centuries of life, much too long ago. It was a trivial thing, however, and he couldn’t recall grieving for long. He was taught to be cold and logical very young, the tutors and the king trying overmuch to compensate for the king’s shortcomings in the field.
He was the perfect son, but for his self centeredness, which had been hammered into him since birth, and because he didn’t have any friends in the castle, his isolation taught him to know himself, and gave him his curiosity towards others, as well as his logical approach towards life. When he ascended to the throne he proved to be an efficient no-nonsense leader, and he was lucky his entire reign has been immersed in a war because that is where he functions best, because honestly, is it really more than a huge game? The people don’t seem to mind that he treats them like pawns, however, or at the very least they say nothing about it.
Sabine’s accent could best be described as northern European, some mixture of those ethnicities. He’s also rather taken with the human languages, and knows quite a few of them. He occasionally drops words from other languages into his speech, and he’s particularly partial to the Germanic languages.
The tall man stood in the alcove like balcony, it was protected from the elements on all sides but one, where a body could look out at the sweeping land beneath, out to the horizon. His face was impassive under the rising sun, but the rays of the golden orb toyed with his pale locks, glimmering off his near-platinum hair. He was too deep in contemplation to notice the rise of the lovely sun, however. He was contemplating Earth. More specifically, going back to Earth. He'd need his entourage, Lena as well, of course, a handful of soldiers and lower servants, his adviser, and the captain of the guard, of course, even if it was merely a leisure visit. The others would follow him down to the planet, they always did. it was an unspoken rule that if one of the kings moved to earth, the others would as well. Sabine found it foolish that they were forever chasing each other, but he couldn't help but follow suit, since, there was no way of knowing if one of the others was plotting something other than to be in the thick of things.
Leaning against the railing, slim hands wrapped around the ornate metal, Sabine closed his eyes for a moment and tipped his head back slightly, enjoying the warmth of the sun for a mere second before turning away. It was a morning ritual, giving thanks for the sun's warmth every morning, and it often helped him organize his thoughts. He reentered his chambers shortly after, still in deep thought. Lena was not present, she was probably busying herself with some work or another, but Sabine didn’t mind. He would call for her when he required her presence.
The male exited his quarters and strolled down the empty hall, another part of his morning routine. No servant would even dare to bother him at this time of morning unless it was urgent business. Even Lena would be rebuked for interrupting his thought process. The daemon entered the library down the hall from his quarters and strolled among the shelves briefly, pausing to ghost his fingers across book spines occasionally, but never landing on one thing for more than a second. His green eyes gleamed as he finally paused in front of a tome and slid it carefully from its resting place, cradling it in his fingers and hefting it from hand to hand for a moment, as if testing its weight. He paused for a moment before deciding it was indeed the book he wished to read, then turned on heel and exited the library.
His skeleton fingers gently slid the pages over one by one until he landed somewhere in the middle of the book. He settled down in his chair beside a grand window overlooking the gothic city below his grand home, resting the novel in his lap and resting his chin on one hand. He stared disinterestedly at the page, looking ever so busy, but he could not focus on the words before him. He was still internally debating. Should he travel back to earth? It had only been two years since his last visit, would it rile the other kings up if he were to leave? Did he even care what they thought? No, but if they chose to stay instead of travel to earth he’d be forced to return, lest the two form an alliance and seize his land while he was gone.
And what would a valid explanation be for his return? It would need to be vague. Or he could merely say he wanted his coat and his handkerchief back. Of course, that was a brilliant idea. He’d left some personal effects on earth and he required them, so he had to go back to earth and fetch them. Yes.
Sabine’s lips curved in the smallest of smirks. Ah, that was a perfect idea. He would enact the plan as soon as it was appropriate to do so. And he knew exactly what he was going to say to the girl when he made it back.