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Daemon Zagan

With a name that means [quote]The Demon King[/quote], this black haired, Japanese-seeming man truely does live up to his name. His black eyes are always glimmering with mischeif, but he otherwise seems completely calm.

0 · 1,045 views · located in The Infinite Void

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Tyliana

Description

Image

This man is 5'3", weighs about 140, and is of slightly muscular build. His eyes are black, and always seeming to shimmer.

Personality

Very sarcastic and possibly deadly, Daemon has the sharp wit of any demon twice his age. He has the strong belief that in order to be accepted by animals, he must act like them, and, therefore, mimics most of the actions of the normal human-- except one. He refuses to sit and argue about random bullshit, and he refuses to let anyone who bothers him live to tell the tale. Anyone that does can count themselves lucky, for he was likely in a greater mood at that given point. Oh, and, one last thing:

Just because he doesn't like those damned human women, doesn't mean he's gay. It just means that he believes they are too damned bitchy and too damned fickle to be worth any of his time. About the only thing he does think that the human's got right was the Japanese comic books that he's always got one of.

Equipment

He was born with a shifting ability, meaning he barely needs any weapons. However, he does carry one gun, which he dubbed "Hades." This gun is an exact duplicate of Train Heartnet's gun off of the manga Black Cat. Speaking of that manga, he's always got one or two volumes in his hand at any given point in time, whether of Black Cat or of any other number of graphic novels. He also wears a laser gunblade on his person, because he prefers that to a regular sword when dealing with people inside large suits of... armor?

He wears one necklace, an upside-down Pentagram with his own image carved in crystal.

History

He was born back at a time before the humans began to count years, but until only a decade ago, he was still but a child. He remembers nothing of his demonic past but the necklace which he had been gifted with. All he does remember came from the decade he was an adult. This is his story. Italics are his thoughts.

1999:
Where am I? What is this?
Tokyo Japan. He could not understand why the men with slanted eyes could not understand the men without. He could not understand why all could understand him, yet they could not understand each other.
Why don't they understand?
He didn't understand what he was, not yet. He was too young, too fragile, but as the months moved on, he began to learn. He learned faster than all the others. He grew faster than all the others. Soon, those who he had befriended, he had pushed away, having learned so much more about them and himself than they themselves knew.
I don't need you!
He pushed them all away, knowing that they could no longer look upon him as a friend. They all saw what he did, that October night, the last of the days of the month.. The day of All Hollow's eve. He had become some sort of monster. Some sort of... terrible creature.
I'm not human! I'm not like you!
December the twenty-fifth came and passed, and his old friends had come to make sure he was alright. They weren't afraid of what he had become. They didn't blame him. They accepted him. He was one of them.
I'm so sorry..
December the twenty-sixth came. There was nothing left of his friends but blood-soaked clothes and bones upon the floor.

2000:
I have to get out of here!
January first, he was on a plane out of Tokyo and into America, where he knew none would know his name. He used the cash he'd found in the pockets of his now deceased friends' clothes. It was barely enough to get him out of the country.
Why.. Why is everyone staring at me?
Daemon had no clue as to what was going on. The Americans all believed he had to be some rarity in Japan.. He was a giant. He was taller than most that came from his country. But why had a Japanese teenager come in the first place? And why in the world did he actually know English?

2001-2006
No... Don't come any closer..
For the next five years, Daemon kept himself to the shadows, knowing that every year would bring more deaths. He couldn't stand to get close to anyone again. This was proven on the final year. A child who had played in the very park under which he hid had taken shelter from a storm in the stormdrains under the park. For a whole year, this child talked to him and tried to understand everything that he was going through. On July thirtieth, a missing person's flier with the face of a little girl. was posted across the town.
What... What have I done?

2007:
So... So hungry...
Somehow, he'd managed to book tickets on a plane on September 11th, 2007, his chance to escape Boston and the Missing Child posters that had begun to haunt him. But there was something wrong. Slowly, his hands began to phase out of reality, and the plane was already in the air. A tail had begun to sprout. And his skin was becoming leather. Suddenly.. the world went black.
Where... Ouch... Am I..?
When he awoke, they were lifting what seemed to be a frail form from the rubble of Ground Zero. His form. As he began to ask what had happened, every moment flooded back into his mind. Most of the people in the plane hadn't been found...

2008:
Please... tell me it's over...
A year of peace, Daemon had found someone he believed he could connect to. By the end of the year, he had proposed... and she had answered yes.

2009:
Kina?!
The pews of the church, once ivory white, were matched to the deepening scarlet of his bride's dress. He'd not even begun the change when he blacked out this time. One moment, he was saying "I do," and the next... She lay across his lap, lifeless, with her throat torn out by what seemed to be human hands. Whatever happened to those attending the wedding.. He didn't even want to think about it.

2010-present:
There.. there are people like me? Really?
Though the terrors he had committed at the wedding had turned him cold to the world, he still feels, on the inside, as he had that first night, in Tokyo. Still, he doesn't remember his past.. But now... His only wish is to be able to control the change... and himself while changed.

So begins...

Daemon Zagan's Story

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan watched the door as Trephan walked out it. It had probably been a good thing he couldn't eat the man. The thing would get stuck between his teeth and annoy him until he shifted back.

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan looked at Gotika. "He probably tastes as bad as he acts, too, or I -would- have found a way through this damned forcefield."

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan nodded. "I don't blame you in the least. But I can't vomit in this form.. Or the floor would disolve. And I'm not cleaning that mess."

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan tilted his head, then snickered. "I'm rather surprised I've not blacked out, yet."

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan looked toward Omega, his large head tilting to the side. He was still ravenous, but at this point, he'd given up on trying to get out of the one-size-too-small forcefield until the Angel returned.

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan looked at Gokita, tilting his head. "Sake works better. Gets the cotton mouth, too."

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan shook his head. "It's not -that- bad. Home made root beer has more alcohol in it, honestly." He motioned toward his abandoned bottle. "I drink it before I do.. this. Helps with the side effects in the morning."

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan shrugged. "Your choice." He looked toward the man she'd turned to, and, if he'd had a brow to raise, it would, indeed, be raised.

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan snarled slightly, what was meant to be a yawn, since his shape-shift. "Daemon," he muttered after the snarl, before resting his head on the ground, scratching at the edge of the forcefield. Gods, he was hungry.

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#, as written by Tyliana
"Hell if I know," he muttered, continuing to scratch against the feild. "Some sort of demon, I know that much. But I've only been awake ten years, so I'm not sure how old I am."

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan nodded slightly, poking at the field. He wanted so much to get out of this predicament. He was starving. He wanted someone to eat, even if it did have to be that Fey.

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan looked up at Gokita. "You want the truth? I'd probably end up chomping down on whatever I could reach. That's why Serina put me in here, in the first place. I normally don't even have this much of my mind when I change. Last time.. Well.. Last time, I was found under the rubble of a skyscraper. Don't really know what happened, except that my plane crashed into the WTC."

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan chuckled softly. "I should be fine in the morning. That's all it normally takes. So, she'd best be here to take this damned thing off of me by then." He looked at Vahn. "Puh-lease. A Saiyan would hurt like hell. You, it'd be like accidentally swallowing a fish-bone. I'm a demon, not a whale."

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan snickered. "Here, throw that in here, and I'll tell you whether or not it's a tooth pick."

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan carefully picked up the cutlass between two claws, eying it. "Hm. Well... It's a little more curved than I'd like for a tooth pick, but it's definitely small enough." He slid the sword down across the floor back to the pirate.

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan glanced toward the small voice, staring at the tiny, chicken-like creature. "I'm thinking barbeque."

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan grumbled under his breath, scratching at the forcefield. "I.. Want.. Chicken.." This was half because he really did feel like he was being starved to death and half because he was amused by how easily he could irritate the tiny bird. He looked to Gokita. "You wouldn't by chance be able to throw that little bird in here, would you?"

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan frowned. "But that could be -days-. I don't know how long I was buried, you know."

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan grumbled, scratching at the floor. "Oh come on. It was made by an angel. I can't break out of it without some serious help. And I'm hungryyy. Besides. I didn't black out when that guy threw the cutlass in here, did I?"

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#, as written by Tyliana
Daemon Zagan huffed, scratching at the field. "At least toss my sake in here, then? I'll find a way to drink it without breaking the bottle." He looked at Jared. "If I can't fix me, you can't fix me."