everyone is a moon--✕

[lunaticked]

THE MAN ON THE MOON

Name: Saïx
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Reference: Wiki. Wikia
Canon Point: Between the end of 358/2 Days and the start of Kingdom Hearts II
Gender: Male
Age: Estimated - 25.

Orientation: Throughout his canon there is no indication whatsoever of Saïx's sexuality, whatever it may be. He lacks close relationships of any kind, except for his friendship with Axel, which was carried over from the time when they were both still human, though there is no evidence that their friendship is anything more. To everyone and everything else, Saïx's manner ranges from business-like to scornful; he measures people by their worth and usefulness and will pick up and discard "tools" as necessary. Saïx cares only about regaining his heart and furthering his own plans, so this complete absence of personal interest, emotional or physical, in anyone would indicate that he is asexual; or at least, has been asexual since his rebirth as a Nobody.

Personality: At first impression Saïx might seem like a learned academic, or at least a capable member of middle-management: calm, well-spoken, authoritative, organized, and somewhat inscrutable, even civil. On further association, the picture is far less benign: he is detached, coldly contemptuous, and practically emotionless, on average showing little more than satisfaction or cool disregard. It is not that he is driven to be rude or blunt, it's that he simply does not care - and is not capable of caring - about the physical, mental, or emotional well-being of other people. He is in every way a Nobody, calculating and obsessed with reclaiming his heart, who can and will take whatever actions he sees as necessary and has in the past. A literally heartless nature makes it exceedingly simple for him to perform acts reprehensible to normal people, anything from subtle manipulation to outright murder. He can be quite cruel, but to whom, for what reason, and to what extent largely depend on the situation. Intelligence, cunning, ruthlessness, and an intimate knowledge of what it takes exploit the weaknesses of the heart give Saïx an edge over his enemies as well as his compatriots.

He does, however, extol the past and, up until Axel's association with Roxas and Xion, valued the connection he and Axel had through their shared history. Once upon a time, he had been a friend, a good one, as calm and composed (and sarcastic) as ever but carefree and capable of laughing. For all the disdain that he shows people that act on their emotions, he continues his efforts to reclaim his heart and what he's lost, carrying on his own machinations within the Organization to further that end. While Saïx will never pretend to feel or play at being anything more than a Nobody - he knows exactly what he is and has no respect for or understanding of people and Nobodies that can't do the same - his single-minded pursuit of true existence is proof enough that "life" as a Nobody is not a life that he desires.

The great irony of all his planning and lack of empathy or desire to try to at least act like is old self is what has changed him and cost him his friendship with Axel. Saïx acknowledges this at one point, in private, but harbors no feelings toward the matter at all, though whether or not he would if he could is perhaps answered by his cold attitude toward Axel after Axel's abandonment of the Organization later in the series.

Beneath his wealth of composure, acumen, and focus lies a terrible barbarism. While it takes certain external cues to bring out this part of him, Saïx has the capacity to lose all reason and stability. It is not rage, per se, but a bestial madness of the mind, one that drives him to ferociously attack with little to no self-control. Saïx is a berserker in the most classic sense and it is the moon that fuels this power. While the full extent of his madness is drawn out only by the light of Kingdom Hearts (the "moon" of his world), that feral savagery will always be a part of his nature, well hidden but constantly lurking beneath the surface. Whatever he thinks of this Jekyll side to himself, Saïx does not share those thoughts. In fact, he shares nothing with the world around him, nothing more than what he wants it to see.

Appearance: Saïx tends to appear much larger and taller through the force of his personality, but his height and build are actually more on the scale of the average male, though he is broader in the shoulder with a bulkier musculature. There are a few oddities that are bound to catch a person's eye - blue hair, pointed ears, yellow eyes, the X-shaped scar in the middle of his face - but otherwise he more or less resembles a normal human. His carriage is powerful, his posture and body language upright, confident, and purposeful. Typically, his clothing is regulated to the black coat characteristic of his Organization, with dark gloves, boots, and plain accompanying materials underneath.

Image Reference.

Suitability: Saïx is an adult upon arrival.

SAMPLES

"amatomnes" Entry: [ audio only, the voice utterly calm ]

I see. A network of some type, rudimentary but functional. I assume that means that someone must be listening.

I may not know who or what you are, or how it was that you entered our castle in order to bring me here. [ here the tone shifts into something almost derisive, if one listens closely enough ] Though your apparent purpose for doing so is remarkably shallow.

Any further explanation of your motives is ultimately inconsequential. I still intend to rectify this situation at the earliest opportunity, with or without your cooperation.

I have no doubt that you intend to stop me. You can spare yourself useless posturing and wasted time by facing me, but if your actions so far are any indication, you'll want to make this a game.

[ here, at last, something a little dangerous slips in ] I don't play games anymore.

"amatomneslogs" Entry: Memories, dim as old candles, caught in the recesses of his mind, flickering out of a rich, expansive darkness. The sensations were vaguely familiar, in that far-off way that only things long ago left behind could be. Saïx had never been one to dream, or, if he did, they were not dreams that his mind saw as worth remembering. To have a dream that he did recall, that he was aware of even as it took place, was an event of note. The difficulty was that he could not fathom as to why this would be. Why now, why this.

Why the vague impression of hands, lips, warm exhales and a weight on his chest that bordered on the oppressive? The thick heat that suffused his body was suffocating, crawling over him, sinking down into his bones, his mind, this thick, drunken blanket that coiled itself around him and--

He was awake. Sunlight stung at his eyes as soon as he opened them. The abrupt garishness of it was enough to illicit a physical reaction, a brief wince, a roll onto his side to block the obnoxious rays streaming through the window by the bed. Fabric slid off his naked body in a smooth, cool cascade while the rustle of curtains and distant sounds reached his ears. Birds, people, the sea. Out in the hall, beyond a closed door, footsteps on stone, the low conversations of women. As he swallowed against the dryness in his mouth characteristic of long sleep, his Adams apple pressed against some resistance. It was some type of metal, a thin, wide band, just loose enough to let him function, with no seam or fastening device that his fingers could find. It was too close to his skin to remove without tools.

When Saïx opened his eyes again, he first found the door, then the window. Neither were recognizable, though the architecture was reminiscent of a world within the Organization's database. Not close enough to be a match. That meant that this world was unknown, his location that much harder to determine. The residents were a complete unknown, though his mere presence here was enough to indicate that some of them had the skills necessary to infiltrate the World That Never Was without detection. Admittedly, the prospect was highly unlikely, but the proof was right in front of him. He sat up, taking stock of himself, and paused, very briefly.

The patches of dampness made his skin prickle. His dreams tugged at him.

Saïx curled his lip.

His clothes were nearby, an odd device sitting atop them. He set it aside as he dressed, though a frown caught at his lips when he touched his coat. The material was not like that of normal attire, its properties and effects more magical than natural. But the garment that he felt with his hands had none of that unseen force woven through it, as limp and lifeless as the cheapest cotton rag. Suspicion rose within him and he raised a hand, calling up on the darkness inherent to every world.

None came. The picturesque serenity of the room was unchanged.

That, more than the condition of his person upon waking or the collar around his neck, merited concern.