[OOC - Application]
-PLAYER INFORMATION-
Name/Nickname: Tobu Ishi (Tobu)
AIM/E-mail/Contact: arijanian / arijanian@yahoo.com
LJ: tobu_ishi.livejournal.com
-CHARACTER INFORMATION-
Canon Character and Series: Zidane Tribal, FFIX
In-Game Name: Zidane Tribal
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Position & Ship (first and second choice for position please): The Winding Way, (1st) powder monkey, (2nd) cabin boy.
Appearance: Zidane is a little short for his age, deceptively lightly built and slim, but his lithe frame is strung with lean, well-maintained muscle and capable of landing a triple acrobatic backflip ending in a balanced handstand if the whim strikes him. He wears his blonde hair a little long, and pulled back into a stubby bunch at the nape of his neck, from which the shorter strands constantly escape to frame his face. His features are boyish, almost impish when he smiles, with wide blue eyes that could charm a bird from its nest, thin winged eyebrows, a narrow nose and an expressive mouth always on the verge of a grin.
His taste in clothes might verge on the dandyish if he had the money to waste. As it is, he's quite satisfied with a blue ribbon to tie in his collar and a little lace on the cuffs of his shirt--otherwise he dresses simply, in the trousers, shirt, vest and boots of a typical middle-to-lower-class young man. He favors blue and gray, keeps his knives visibly sheathed at his hip, and habitually lets out a bit of the seam at the back of his trousers so that the most striking aspect of his appearance--a blonde-furred, prehensile tail as long as a monkey's and strong enough to swing from--can have full freedom of movement.
Personality: Cheerful, laid-back, confident, and comfortable in nearly any company, Zidane is the definition of a "people person". He'll make conversation with anyone who seems willing, especially a pretty young lady--he's an incorrigible flirt (though he enjoys the lightest form of the "game" itself more than actually "scoring"). For that matter, he has an indulgent fondness for little kids and an often mischievous sense of humor, and takes a genuine friendly interest in the people around him, whether they're pretty and female or not. He's naturally chivalrous and prefers not to fight or take advantage of ladies, kids, or those otherwise at a disadvantage (though he'll make a practical exception to the lady rule for those obviously able to take care of themselves--and/or dust the floor with him).
Though he tends to give a first impression as a playful, light-hearted skirt chaser, Zidane can be surprisingly sensible and philosophical when on his own or with company he likes and trusts--after spending most of his life pondering his own origins, not to mention being raised by a foster father with a strong interest in the arts, he's accumulated a lot more in that blonde head than fluff and pick-up lines. Set him to a challenging task and he'll have a grand time figuring out the best (albeit often unorthodox) way to accomplish it. Generally, he's an inquisitive, optimistic, and thoughtful young man, with a clever and nimble mind and a trained actor's talent for improvisation and bluff.
Abilities/Weapons: First and foremost, Zidane is a performer, with a performer's skill sets. He's an accomplished acrobat and can balance on any given limb or even swing from his tail like a monkey. He's also a serviceable actor with years of stage experience (mostly in supporting roles), and a very good improvisor; and he's familiar with most of the backstage clockwork of a theatrical production.
Along with this comes a naturally glib tongue and a talent for charming others. Zidane can be pretty charismatic when he wants to be, though nothing is going to shield him from the rancor of the sort of folks who despise a playful type on principle.
Finally, those foot-long twin daggers he keeps in a sheath at his hip are for more than stage fighting. Zidane is a quick and dangerous knife fighter in a pinch, and uses his acrobatic skills to full advantage in combat, dodging and weaving as he waits for a good opportunity to lunge in and strike. He aims to incapacitate whenever possible, and has yet to actually kill an opponent.
How well can your character hack?: Very basic stuff only (ergo, Easy). What few skills Zidane has were picked up as a nosy preteen perching on the arms of the triplets' chairs, inquisitively watching what they were doing until they either taught him something simple to shut him up or chased him off with a box on the ear. If a rabbit's sneeze could crack it, Zidane probably could too.
Weaknesses: Zidane's playful nature sometimes comes back and yanks his tail for him. He sometimes gets so caught up in the fun of teasing or flirting with someone that he forgets the details of his own bluff and outs himself. For that matter, though his self-confidence is usually an asset, it sometimes overrides his common sense and leaves him charging out into metaphorical thin air on a spur of the moment "sure-thing" plan, only to find himself frantically backpedaling.
More private is the strain of worry and uncertainty that underlies all that sunny bravado. Zidane doesn't know a thing about his birth family, except that they evidently didn't want him. Still, he's painfully eager to find out more about where he comes from--like the song says, he'd "go most anywhere" for a clue. Until he finds out his real history, he'll always be vulnerable to those who claim to know something about his past.
History: Baku Tribal had always had a soft spot for kids, particularly demihumans like himself with nobody to look after them. He'd already taken in half a dozen strays off the city streets, building himself a little family in an old clocktower in the theater district of Kropmork. So when he spotted a ragged, starveling little boy with big, frightened blue eyes wandering around on the airship docks, it only took a few questions to confirm what he'd already guessed. Whoever was supposed to be looking after this kid had abandoned him, and he needed food and shelter--and preferably, a home.
And he was to find one in Tantalus, a gang of child thieves raised with a sometimes bewildering but always affectionate mixture of blustering tenderness and stern, ham-fisted cuffs around the head by their gruff father figure. Baku made an attempt to quiz the child's name and history out of him, but without much result beyond guessing his age to be around three or four. Never one to worry himself too much about sentiment, he dubbed his foundling "Zidane", got a clean if patched shirt on him and a fresh slice of bread and butter down his throat, and set to work teaching him to be a fine, upstanding little pickpocket.
Zidane grew up in a rough and tumble litter of his fellow orphans and foundlings, kids ranging from early childhood almost to adulthood. As his little brood matured, Baku did his best to keep them educated from the scattered collection of books he stashed around the tower, and taught them his own skills from his past career as an actor.
By the time Zidane was ten, Baku and a few of the older children had gotten together a theater troupe, proudly titled Tantalus and used as a front for their increasingly complicated schemes. By the time he was twelve, he was regularly acting in the troupe's productions...and just as regularly working the pockets of the crowds that gathered. By thirteen, Tantalus was registered with the guild as renegades for hire, willing to steal anything--or anyone--their client hankered after, for a price. Zidane's was a good life, assured of a square meal every night and an appetite for it worked up by a long, busy, exciting day of theatrics and light larceny, with the occasional kidnapping to spice things up.
But by age sixteen, being the bright, sunny darling of the troupe was beginning to wear thin. Zidane was spending more and more time watching the families who attended their performances with wistful eyes, or climbing the old clocktower to perch on the roof and contemplate the distant stars, longingly watching the odd airship as it sailed by. He had hardly any memory of his early childhood--only a hazy recollection of strange blue light. But the older he got, the more he wanted to know about where he'd come from. He was sixteen years old and he'd never even been off Kropmork.
Finally, Zidane made up his mind. He couldn't stay in one place forever, and none of the many people he'd quizzed on Kropmork had the faintest idea of where he'd come from. Even if it turned out to be a fool's errand, something in him needed to be out there, seeing the world and hopefully finding his roots somewhere in it. With the help of his foster brother and closest friend, he wrote up a letter and sent it off to the Winding Way. And then he went to tell Baku.
It was the first time any of Baku's fledglings had made a serious effort to leave the nest. The old man blustered and bellowed, scolded and scoffed, and finally challenged the boy to a fight. Surely, he thought, this would knock some sense into his foster son and show him he wasn't ready to face the wide world just yet.
Quick, young, and on his guard, Zidane blacked his "father"'s eye for him in short order, wore him out with bobbing and weaving, then knocked him flat. Stunned for a moment, the two of them stared at each other. Then Baku hauled himself back onto his feet, roaring with laughter, and pounded his son's shoulder approvingly. If Zidane felt he was ready to leave, Baku told him, then that's what he ought to do. He might not be Tantalus anymore...but he'd always be able to count on them.
Flushed with pride (and a few bruises), Zidane packed his sparse belongings into a canvas duffel, said his goodbyes to the rest of Tantalus (enduring quite a lot of hair-ruffling, cheek-pinching, wrestling, and tearful kisses in the process), and headed for port.
Next stop....who knew? Not Zidane, and he couldn't have been happier about it.