clericbeast — Roleplayer Guild

Xerxes Hasek

"I say, what a revolting surprise! Why, I thought I'd caught a whiff of sewer rat, and so I felt I ought to exterminate it, but it wound up being you, instead! Funny, isn't it, how these things work out, hmm?" Xerxes, to literally anyone

Age: 28 (deceptively so; from his behavior and appearance, it's often difficult to tell)

Gender: Male

Former Occupation: Worked in a quaint little antiques shop owned by a former acquaintance; dabbled in hairdressing; spent most of his life unemployed.

Tall and lean, almost unhealthily so, Xerxes possesses a sharp, almost distinguished sort of gauntness about him. This lanky, scrawny physique, born of a preference for sweets absolutely devoid of any nutritional value, a relatively time-consuming occupation, and a lack of interest in food altogether, means Xerxes doesn’t cut much of a figure at all, much less one of an imposing nature. He emanates this unnerving, almost repellent sort of aura - the cheerful sort of defiance that only a hardened criminal or an absolute maniac might bear. 

Lean, sharp angles mold the pale canvas of his face, carving out prominent cheekbones and emphasizing his smile. Thin lips usually rest in a cheerful, yet oddly unnerving grin, or wide, unnaturally peppy smile, soured only by the condescending gleam lighting up his eyes. A long, straight nose sharp enough to smooth diamonds partitions his face evenly. He’s got a striking sort of face, unusual enough to be almost attractive, in an odd sort of way - certainly enough to warrant a second glance.

Down-turned, slightly droopy eyes give him a whimsical, casual sort of look. This, paired with his ever-present grin, ought to make him seem warm and friendly, but there's an odd absence of laugh lines. (He claims he prefers things this way; can't have his youthful face all shriveled and marred with ugly wrinkles, hmm?) His eyes themselves are brown and sharp - much like the rest of him - and carry an odd, almost bitter hardness, though only occasionally.

His light, perpetually tousled wavy hair is styled to emulate a faux-undercut, falling in wisps across his face to obscure his right eye. The side-swept fringe flips out slightly at the ends, messy in a deliberate, almost artful sort of way. 

Xerxes' voice is a lilting, cheerful sing-song, often condescending and mocking and all kinds of patronizing, much like the rest of his mannerisms.  

Prefers loose, comfortable clothing; would totally show up to an important pre-arranged meeting in a loose long-sleeved shirt, oversized zip-up jacket, and cloth pants rolled up to his mid-calves.

Eternally smiling, be it his typical condescending, unsettling grin, a scathing, derisive sneer, or a mutinous, dangerous smirk, Xerxes has wreathed himself in an air of his own enigmatic, truly baffling whimsy. Working tirelessly to shroud himself in enigma - not for any contrived, cliched desire to be "mysterious", mind you; he just enjoys seeing the stupid looks of consternation on people's faces - he imparts little more than the bare minimum on whatever allies he aligns himself with, yet does it in a way that makes it seem like it's their fault instead of his. 

Surprisingly deceptive despite his mischievous, childlike demeanor, Xerxes can effortlessly blend into even the most unlikely crowd. He's well trained at employing some casual misdirection, be it throwing a stone or offering a few paltry words of incrimination. This lends well to his favorite pastime: popping out of nowhere to frighten the living daylights out of random passersby. There's something so delightfully comforting about their screams - a joy, really. 

Incisive remarks or petty insults don't really bother him; he's always got that infuriating grin plastered across his face. Ever the prankster, he's quite fond of feigning a complacent sort of supremacy to push some buttons, usually addressing the person in question with, "my dear", to piss them off. He tends to talk down to others as if he's patronizing a wayward, unruly toddler. His speech patterns are a tad archaic, as well; his sentence structure and word choice are reminiscent of someone constantly surprised by the stupidity of mankind. 

It's rare to spot Xerxes engaging in the mundane. Even sitting down has to be addressed in the most unorthodox, complicated manner possible. It's a massive waste of everyone's time, and he knows it. He despises boredom and reviles all things ordinary, because boredom leads to a wandering mind and a wandering mind leads to wallowing in regret, and he doesn't much like whining about things he knows he can't change. 

Not all of Xerxes’ childish immaturity is an act, however. He's actually remarkably obstinate, foolish enough to believe he can shoulder every burden on his own and stubborn enough to do everything himself. His excuse is Mr. One-Man Show can't have a partner, or else he might actually have to give credit where credit is due, and that's just a sad, sad travesty. He'd hide an injury to avoid drawing attention, to avoid garnering sympathy, because he believes one who's committed the same heinous atrocities as he doesn't deserve the pleasure of a sincere smile. Mr. One-Man Show has got to keep up a good act, after all, right?

He tends to opt for the easy way out, heedless of the consequences, because he's already got a karmic list a mile long tailing him, so why not see how much of the universe's luck he can waste on his own, right? Besides, he's not quite certain he knows what sincerity is - he's seen it in action, so of course he's got to believe it exists, but he's yet to experience it himself. He fancies it’s something like believing in ghosts - futile, fruitless, and an absolute waste of time. 

He's also quite wistful, even if it’s expressed in his own sardonic sort of way; he's currently attempting to atone for the aforementioned atrocities he’s committed, and if that means death, why, it's certainly welcome to join him on the ride. (Except not, because while he'd never openly admit it, the man who openly declares his longing for death has seen and caused quite enough of it to know to be terrified to die. Besides, what would a lazy, good-for-nothing slacker like him do with an eternity to himself? Certainly nothing productive, of course!)

Xerxes often refers to himself as a fool - even teasingly - in conversation. Also, he's quite insulting. For example, upon seeing someone he knows, he might remark, "Oh, why, it seems the circus is in town! What a revolting surprise!" He's a massive asshole. Just. God, he's so awful.

Height: 6'2"

Weight: (o´ω｀o)

Scars/Tattoos/Other:
A jagged, gnarled, slightly protuberant scar runs along his left hip; he claims he got it valiantly fending off an entire legion of crack-addled demons in a fiery death match. Or, he'll invent some other wild tale on the spot. (In all actuality, it was received during a particularly nasty period of time in his early childhood. Daddy's brass knuckles always gave the quickest bedtime kisses.)
A smattering of freckles splashes across the bridge of his nose.

Past Affiliates:

Though Xerxes claims he's done nothing but travel alone for most of the "apocalypse", he's actually flitted from group to group, drifting away when he wore out his welcome, never daring to lay anchor anywhere for longer than a few months. There's a certain individual whom he bonded rather intimately with (in a platonic sense, of course, as he is decidedly not a very sexual person) who died in a rather messy manner. Said individual was also the person who helped reinvent his post-outbreak identity; she helped him go from being the wholly unremarkable fool with the typical name to a showy, eccentric idiot. She gave him the drive to forge on living, and for that, he is both eternally grateful and extremely resentful. (The will to live is a double-edged sword, especially when all your loved ones keep persistently dropping like flies.) This person was also an extremely imperious, capricious, and flighty sort of person, bequeathing upon her closest friends insulting little nicknames - she used to call Xerxes her lazy, good-for-nothing slacker for rather obvious reasons.

They totally blew up a shed together at one point, because hey, it was the end of the world, might as well have a bit of fun, right? 

Current Affiliates: He calls himself "Mr. One-Man Show" for a reason. 

Skills:
He's a master of misdirection and adept at distraction; he'll launch into a fifteen-minute tangent, surreptitiously snag someone's wallet, chattering all the while, then pick right back up where he was as if he never diverged.
In tandem with the above point, Xerxes is an adept pickpocket and no stranger to looting.
He's adequate enough at picking locks. Interestingly enough, the only way to get him to truly shut up is to ask why he's so well-versed in such a thing.
Dabbled in hairdressing during his adolescence, when he was starving and strapped for cash. It's proved to be quite handy, what with the whole "end of society" thing.

Strengths:
Xerxes is surprisingly resilient, contrary to what his skinny frame might imply. He's stubborn as a mule, and twice as irrational, and that applies even to weathering out illness or injury.
While Xerxes doesn't really "connect" with people, he's fairly intuitive and can read situations well enough. That doesn't mean his comments will be either pertinent or appropriate, though.
In a battle of wits, Xerxes is usually almost always certain to win, simply because he'll talk circles around the opposing party until they throw in the towel in a fit of disgusted frustration.

Weaknesses:
Despite his hardy nature, Xerxes is fairly weak. He's cunning, but slyness and wiles can only carry him so far. Due to his skinny frame and frail constitution, he can't dish out heavy firepower, nor can he withstand a powerful blow. A few hits could leave him permanently out for the count. He has to rely on cheap shots, his agility, his craftiness, and his proclivity for stealth to survive a fight.
He's selfish, and doesn't work well with a team. His hubris could power a small regiment.
Xerxes has a weak respiratory system, leaving him prone to coughing jags, although he does try his best to conceal it.
As his health is slowly declining, sometimes eluding his immediate detection, he tends to overestimate his capabilities, potentially endangering both himself and his comrades.

History: Most of Xerxes' background is shrouded in mystery; despite his garrulous nature and inability to stop talking, he's reluctant to reveal anything about his life prior to the initial outbreak. This stems partially from a lingering feeling of embarrassment by how pathetic some of his actions were, partially from subconscious repression of truly horrific memories, and partially because he doesn't feel the Xerxes from the world reveling in the warm glow of normalcy has any place infesting the world in its current state. That Xerxes was a coward and a fool and committed all sorts of heinous sins for which this Xerxes has to atone. (Let it never be known this guy isn't a dramatic little shit. He got a few people killed, one of them a close friend, and now he's wallowing in his own misery because he likes having a reason to look tortured and brooding and mysterious.)

From his tendency to hoard objects precious to them, stashing them in some secure little alcove hidden safely off the beaten path, one can discern he's spent a fair bit of his live ensnared by the stubborn throes of poverty. (He insists this isn't the case; ever the attention hog, he likes to pretend he lived the glamorous life of a daring art thief, complete with recollections of his "heists" and weirdly detailed descriptions of the pieces he allegedly snagged. Of course, Xerxes is also a massive liar with a serious superiority complex, so take everything he says with a grain of salt.)

One might also infer he spent a few years as a transient, judging by his oddly unerring ability to recognize landmarks and seemingly innate sense of direction. He's definitely skilled at finding alternate routes through which to access a building or pathway, at least. 

While others might be keen to share funny little anecdotes steeped with that wistful sense of fondness, Xerxes remains firmly tight-lipped. When the topic shifts toward family members or loved ones, Xerxes usually gives what he probably imagines to be a dignified, enigmatic smile, (complete with a distinctly ill pallor and probably a conspicuous grimace) and retreats to some remote little corner until he, in his words, "deems the conversation interesting enough to join, because families are all manners of dull and boring, you know?"

He's also not entirely certain when his birthday is - as in, the "doesn't know the day or year regardless of the present point in time" sort, not the "can't keep track of time because haha shit the world ended" sort. Which is sad in a number of ways, but that's not something he likes to dwell on. 

The only aspect of his life he will speak freely about is the variety of odd jobs he's held over the years, especially the quaint little antiques shop he worked at up until the world fell to shit. It was owned by a good friend of his - perhaps the same girl who christened him with that "lazy, good-for-nothing slacker" title? The same one who hired him on a whim, because she thought the idiot slumped in the snow outside a convenience store, looking six kinds of despondent and maybe even a little bit dead because the economy, having already brutally fucked him over, had apparently called and said it wasn't paying for child support, or something, was "more interesting than the prospective idiots swaggering into the store like they were expecting to be promoted to manager their first day holding the position". Probably what saved his life, too - Xerxes very likely would have starved or froze to death that winter without a steady source of income to pay for food and heat.

Perhaps someone with an abundance of charisma and a powerful sense of persuasion (and a surplus of patience) could wheedle some more information out of him in due time.

I was originally planning on using Xerxes for a different role play on this site, but then I decided he suits this sort of setting far better. I pity the sorry saps that get stuck with this arrogant bastard.

Let me know if there are any glaring issues.
clericbeast Member

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