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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 · 374 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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Daemon Zagan glanced up to Kisa, marking the page in his comic. "White Russian. Hold the ice. Extra Vodka and extra Kaluah, if you would, please." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wad of bills. "And I'll pay by the drink. It keeps me sober, thankfully." He flashed the woman a light grin.

He barely noticed Bedlum, but he did raise a brow. He, for once, did nothing to deserve the man's hostility.

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Daemon Zagan lifted the glass, glanced only momentarily at its contents, before raising it. "Cheers." He took a swig of the liquid before a grin crossed his features. "Perfect. I thank you, madame." He bowed his head in thanks, before his eyes shifted to the man beside him.

His thoughts, however varied, seemed to stay with this individual. So obsessed and posessive of his one bartender was he, that even the demon could not find it in his heart to start laughing. Normally, he would have. With a shrug, he looked back to Kisa. "So, how long have you worked here?" he asked civilly, raising a brow.

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Character Portrait: Daemon Zagan Daemon Zagan says,
 The demon, taking another sip from the drink, shrugged. "I suppose I'm not too far new, but I'm not all that common an occurance, either. Someone who refuses to show any kindness toward a human.. Ah, but then again, I shouldn't go into such details."

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Character Portrait: Daemon Zagan Daemon Zagan says,
 "To tell the truth, I'm not sure. Escaping Japan just led me here, I suppose." His throat closed up and he set the drink back down. Japan. That was where it all happened. That was where he first learned that he could never make another human friend. The unending hunger that consumed him for weeks after he'd found those who accepted him for what he was. There was no changing the past... There would be no changing of the future, either.

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Character Portrait: Daemon Zagan Daemon Zagan says,
 He jerked out of his reveries. He'd forgotten where he was. "I'm fine. I just don't bring up that place anymore. I shouldn't have this time, either." He shook his head, taking another drink of his white russian. "There are things there that.. I'd rather not remember."

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Daemon Zagan froze when she hugged him. A physical touch was, once again, something he'd never gotten used to. "Happiness. That's an emotion that's not applied to me since

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Character Portrait: Daemon Zagan Daemon Zagan says,
 "Nineteen ninety-nine.."

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Daemon Zagan shook his head. "None. Not since I came to the states. That was... A decade ago."

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Daemon Zagan stared down into his glass. "I never had a family to begin with."

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Daemon Zagan shook his head. "A shameful family, then. The... Only people I ever knew... I slaughtered. I.. I didn't mean to.." His eyes glazed over. "They'd come to comfort me. They said they accepted me for what I was... even if noone else would.. and now.."

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Character Portrait: Daemon Zagan Daemon Zagan says,
 He didn't freeze this time, but actually returned her hug. It only lasted a moment, however, before he gazed into his glass. "I didn't push them away, Miss. I devoured them."

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Daemon Zagan shrugged slightly. "I suppose so." He downed the last of his drink and rested the glass on the table.

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Daemon Zagan nodded and watched the odd woman leave. He shrugged, looking at his empty glass. He should have asked for a refill. Oh well.

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Character Portrait: Daemon Zagan Daemon Zagan says,
 The demon took a few steps into the bar, heading straight for the counter. He didn't ask about a bartender, but just simply waved a bot over, ordered his White Russian, paid and waited. Whatever had happened the night before, he seemed far too upset than to even start causing problems. He needed something to get everything off his mind. He had to get Japan out of his memories... Once and for all.

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Daemon Zagan made his way into the bar, holding a book under his arm. No, not a manga this time, but rather, a real large book. He blinked at the group of pokemon. "Odd assembly."

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Daemon Zagan was silent as he strode into the room. Though he looked somewhat calm, the air around him seemed to turn cold as he passed through it. It was nothing unusual, as of late. The demon, who rarely ever had his nose out of some sort of book, hadn't even decided to carry his bag. Instead, his hand rested on the hilt-grip of his gunblade. Something was up.

Distractedly, he made his way over to the bar, sitting beside Jaden and waiting. Were he in his normal mood, he would have made the usual comment concerning the "damned bar-bot". Today, however, was not the time.

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Daemon Zagan slowly flickered his eyes toward the man beside him. "Hai?" The term for yes, in Japanese, was pretty much all of it he'd spoken since his flight from the island. The demon couldn't help but seem to question what the other was thinking, with the slight turn of colors.

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Character Portrait: Daemon Zagan Daemon Zagan says,
 "You looked at me," the demon spoke quietly, before glancing back across the bar. "Alright, since no bartender seems to be on duty... Where's that damned bot?" There was the smartass tone he normally had. But would the bot come near him today? He didn't doubt it, since he did pay well. As he waited for the bot, he looked back toward Jaden, only glancing over him for a moment. Just a boy, was the only thought in his mind, when he shook his head. "Just a boy."

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It had been a long time since the demon king, Daemon Zagan, had entered into Gambit's. Once again, there was a book in his hands, another manga, from the looks of it. For some reason, he always did have a book in his hands, whether it was fiction or research. He had a bag slung over his shoulder, and his eyes kept glancing back to it every so often. As soon as he heard a familiar voice, he looked up. He'd only heard the voice once before, but he remembered it. The girl who knew not what she was.

In a way, she reminded him of himself. He knew not from wence he came, either. On the other hand, she was different. She actually knew where she fit in. Ah, oh well, he thought to himself, before moving over to the bar. He sat down near one end, not too far from the mexican and his husband, and simply read his book. He'd wait for a bot to come over, or something. He wouldn't bother a real bartender, today.

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He wasn't hardly paying attention to his book. He supposed the bots were broken, since he'd not ordered anything. Oh well. He glanced around for a bartender that wasn't engaged in anything, before taking a look toward Kisa.He wasn't sure wheter to react or just let him stay there.

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Daemon Zagan slowly stood, reaching back to put his manga back in his backback. Slowly, he moved over to Kisa, kneeling down beside her. "Need a bit of help?" the demon asked, offering her a hand.

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Daemon Zagan smiled slightly, before turning, looking calmly at Austin. "I suggest you leave, boy." His eyes alit with a glowing burst of anger.

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Daemon Zagan quietly walked into the bar, barely looking up from his graphic novel. The demon had a slight sneer on his lips, a permanent side effect of trying oh-so-hard not to fit in. If his history hadn't proven bad enough... The demon king shuddered, sliding a marker in his book. It wasn't until then that he'd heard people talking. Shouldn't be so surprized, he thought to himself. After all, the place was a bar, for crying out loud. He shook his head and slid the book into his backpack, glancing around. Maybe he'd find someone worthwhile, for once.

He stepped up to the bar, sighing, and glanced around for the nearest 'tender bot. He wouldn't bother trying to rouse a real bartender. That would just be foolish. When the Bot came to him, he made an order that was quite unusual, at least since he'd come from Japan. "Sake. And it better be hot." The bot left and came back with his bottle and cup, waited till the demon paid the correct amount, then left them on the counter. With a sigh, he picked up the bottle, filled his cup, then downed the liquid he'd poured. Today, he'd pull out of his slump... somehow.

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Daemon Zagan turned around, bottle and cup in hand, and leaned back against the counter. He frowned, feeling the eyes on him. Slowly, the demon turned to face Sang, a frown barely tugging at the corner of his lips. Greeaat. Not just any idiot to stare at him, but a high idiot. At least the creature'd had good taste in liquor. "Got a problem?"

His black eyes flashed slightly, and he poured himself another cup. Once he downed this, he moved toward the "killer" table.

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Daemon Zagan eyed the man who'd spoken to him, looked at his bottle of sake, and shrugged. Wouldn't hurt to sit down, he supposed. "Balls have nothing to do with it," the -black- haired demon said quietly, before taking another swallow of his drink. He paid absolutely no mind to the drugs that had been placed on the table.