Zero Minuo

[Kishimoto Kyo]

Name: Zero Minuo

Title: None (though when he steals something, people are usually shouting "THIEF!" while he's running away from the crazy people)

Gender: Male

Race: Dhampir (Half Human and Half Vampire) - As a Dhampir, he is immune to the harmful effects of sunlight that would otherwise burn vampires to ash, but even then, he is not entirely immune. As long as he fights in the direct contact with sunlight, his abilities are reduced by about two thirds their full capacity, meaning that at any one moment in the day, he would only be fighting with one third of what he's got. However, if he drinks blood, the sun will not effect him for at least three hours. Like other vampires, he must drink blood, but he can hold back his hunger for about one week. Any longer and he risks going mad, his instinctual side taking over, and attacking anything with an ounce of blood, animal, foe, or friend. If he were to drink the blood of other vampires, their blood allows him to go without drinking for at least one month, and he can fight without restriction in sunlight for up to seven days. Whether it's an added bonus, or just completely a fluke, some Dhampirs are more closely linked genetically with vampires, their skin as cold as ice, but with him, he's warm like a human, the opposite of what one might think for someone such as him. Whether that makes any real difference is beyond what he can tell; it only means he doesn't have to worry about physical contact.

Age: 19

Class: Blade Thief (this simply means he's a thief that carries around a sword, not a dagger and such) - Thief - Pickpocket

Appearance: Being half vampire doesn't exactly score himself any points with people. Zero had always known he was different, and he was correct about that, craving blood at the worst of moments. Red eyes are sometimes associated with vampires, but it doesn't always mean they are a vampire. Some vampires don't even have red eyes, and normal people, beggars off the street, can have red eyes. With Zero, he is a vampire, or more specifically, a Dhampir. With eyes akin to the color of blood, his iris will shine brightly when his hunger rises, or when he feeds on another, never dimming until he's been satisfied. Or he's dead. The idea of dying though doesn't actually appeal to him right now. Whenever he needs blood, he takes it from wherever it will likely not cause the most trouble, mostly animals in the woods and where he can dispose of the bodies better, letting nature and life take what's left. With all vampires, full and half species, they can even feed on the recently deceased, but only those who have died within minutes, where their bodies will still be warm. Any longer, and it makes draining the blood out of them much more difficult, if not impossible once it stops moving.

Another thing about his appearance is his fangs. When he was young, he could not hide them, nor could he not understand why they were significant, but as time passed and he finally understood, he learned how to control them, hide them, shrinking them down, and make them disappear. Such control is often not easy when his craving for blood rises, but he does what he can. He isn't a very tall person, but he is content with it, standing at a height of around five foot four inches. With a slim body structure, he does have strength in his muscles, but not apparently so. Even living as a pickpocket, he needs to keep himself in shape, so he sees to it that he keeps himself fit. He has to in order to survive this life of his. He just wishes he could change his pale complexion. It's not that pale, thank goodness, but it's still enough that someone might wonder about him somewhere down the line.

Another thing that he's learned to deal with, and expected to deal with really, is his hair. Rough and ragged in form, as well as slightly spiked, a good portion of his hair is pale blond. Incredibly thick despite most of its short length, the very front is cut short of his eyes, the sides allowed to grown and lengthen down to grace his chest. Both are dyed an algae green, and aqua blue highlights are added to them. The very back of his hair at the base of his skull, from one ear to the other, is dyed a dark magenta. Why on earth he would dye them these colors, it's beyond anyone's guess. If someone asked, however, he would say that he did it to match the long black coat he wears. The coat fits over him like a glove, and reaches down to the ground, but only splits at the waist, with a V shaped cut at the neck that exposes his collar bone. With a raised shirt collar, the material of it is tough, as thick as his finger, and not does not flatten out like normal collars. The coat is some what akin to leather but far more flexible like cloth or silk.

The coat is a marvel in itself, and will sometimes be the center of attention. Designs in colors fitting the colors of his hair, from pale blond, to algae green, and aqua blue, are fitted into the chest and shoulders, the left side of his abdomen, and his left arm, with each of them as unique as the places they are at. The front design is shaped like the scattered wings of a butterfly, fanned out and imposing a sense of flight. Both the design on his abdomen and arm resemble what might be considered a fire, its wisps of smoke rising up into the side. On his arm, a red buckled belt wraps around his upper arm twice, and another belt wraps around his waist twice as well. If only thought the designs and colors were strange, the underside of the coat is color coded like a rainbow. Wearing a strangely colored long coat with black leather pants, and shoes, Zero is like a beacon for the eyes, shades of color and black that conflict with not only themselves but with the natural surroundings, of either natural or man made. Some wonder just what is up with him, to wear such strange garments, but unknown to many, it isn't simply a coat.

Weapons/Items: Zero doesn't have much in the way of weapons, but he does have with him a simple katana or daito, a tanto, and his black leather long coat. The daito is nothing special, about a meter long in length, that's including the blade and hilt. The blade has a simple wave curve on the surface like all other daitos, and the sheath is made out of timber, making it able to protect the blade better against the environment, but since it is also vulnerable, he has to treat the wood every now and then. With a copper guard and pommel on both sides of the hilt, the guard is circular and the hilt is wrapped in black, coiled cotton taping. Rough, but it gets things going. The tanto is fashioned much the same way, with a timber sheath and hilt, a copper pommel for each end, but it lacks the guard, and there is no taping for it. This way, it allows him to hide the weapon among his person.

His coat is another matter altogether. The color design is not merely for show, but it allows him to become invisible. Embedded within the leather and design is a spell that allows him, with a single thought as long as he wears it, to bend light, allowing him to become invisible, or partially invisible. The colors of the designs will shift to the colors of the environment, his hair doing the same indirectly just because it's the same color, and then the rest of him, becoming invisible to the naked eye. It isn't fool proof, however, as he can only change the colors of external objects. If he were to begin bleeding, one would see blood floating in the air. As well, if anything were to come in contact with him, such as fog or dust, it would appear to bend in the air, as if coming in contact with something, of which it is. As the spell was embedded into the coat, he can not train to improve it, but as long as he wears it, he can change any color on himself, even make his skin look healthy. However, it drains his energy simply using it, an effect he hasn't been able to overcome.

Novo Animus: Unknown

Talents: Living life as a thief isn't easy, and so, to survive, he had to improve his own skills in what he could use to better his own chances. One of those was balance. He often found himself in a situation in which he had to go places he didn't normally go, such as the tops of buildings being the most helpful for him. Not all buildings were flat, so he had to get a fair balance on top of them, or otherwise risk slipping and falling to the ground below. Over time, he was also able to incorporate that into using a sword, allowing him to better adjust to the sword's weight, and give him a more graceful movement to his actions. As a thief, he also had to be sneaky, which meant silent movement. He'd need to be silent if he wanted to get what he needed. If he wasn't, slipping inside buildings and houses to get a little food from the cabinet, an apple, a pear, or any money that happened to be around, would not be his line of work, as he'd be in jail now. Now if only he knew how to pick locks.

Personality: Once in his life, there was a time where he believed in a world of morals and honor. Having lived his life, he's learned to believe that the world of vampires has no morals, no honor. Peace has reigned but the fear remains. Vampires are only one of many species that the general population has come to fear. If a species harms another in order to survive, ethical and moral grounds say that they are evil, and most are willing to accept that. Zero isn't willing to accept that. As a Dhampir, he saw people be afraid of him just because of who he was. It didn't matter if he was a child, or if he was a baby, people wanted him dead. But he didn't care what they thought. He knows as a natural right that he is dangerous. As one of those that live by draining the blood of others, he knows people don't want him around, and if it wasn't for the fact that people might kill him, he'd openly admit he's a Dhampir just to show that he didn't care.

He wants to keep himself a secret though, and won't let many know who or what he is. He himself has no morals, or any apparent codes of honor one might find in a person. In a way, his view lives in line with the view of moral nihilism, that nothing is moral or immoral. As a means of survival, he'll use anything and everything he can just to live, because for most of his life, that's all he's ever been able to do. Created from the union of a vampire and human, neither race outside of the parents willingly allows Dhampirs to live, and so, he chooses to do what he can to live. In the past year, he became more open to the idea of maybe there's more to life than just simply living; if there is more to see than the hatred and fear he's always seen, but no matter where he looks, or how long he looks at something, he doesn't see anything else but that. Is there such a thing beyond it? He finds that hard to believe.

History: There's nothing much to him as far as he is concerned. He grew up without parents, found at the doorstep by a man who had nothing to do with them, and he was a monk. There are just some things of his past that he wonders how they happened. The man, upon seeing the child such as him at his door, felt he needed to take care of this poor boy. Such a thing wasn't going to be easy though, for either of them. Even as a child, the blood cravings were still there, and though he might not have needed much blood to survive as a child, it meant ill-will for the monk. Named Victor Cornelius, his compassion for those who had lost their faith in anything never ceased, and whenever he could, he helped find their faith through spiritual enlightenment. Zero never did buy much into it, but the meditations the old man taught throughout his life did help him control his hunger. He never knew why he was called Zero Minuo though. Victor only said that a note left with him said that name. It seemed fitting for him.

As a child, they had to be careful of how Zero got blood. For long periods of time, the blood of different animals was the only thing that he could safely get. Zero and Victor lived in a small inn on the southern tip of Judita, and it offered a place of serve and shelter in the long travels ahead for any that passed through. A tiny farm was made in the back, kept up and together with the help of servants and workers that lived there for a time before going on their way. The farm mainly was a supply for both the need of travelers and Zero's own needs for blood as he often had to drink from the animals. As a monk, Victor hired the servants and works when they came for help in their journey, trying to find their faith or a direction to live. Some only worked for a few days, others months, and a rare few for years. Those who remained at the inn became monks themselves and helped Victor in his studies of enlightenment. For a long while, even they learned of Zero and his unique condition as a dhampir.

Life living by himself as a child was very isolated for him, confined to the inn and for many years growing up, without any contact with the outside world except for Victor and the few monks that stayed. All of them were compassionate people, and he loved them all dearly. Even he had to understand his situation, and more often than not, he found himself hating his own existence. It didn't take Victor long to figure out what it was that troubled the boy: his loneliness, constantly having to find things to do inside in his room without any way to play outside. As a dhampir, he at least had the fortunate living style in that he can go outside during the day time. Normally, if he were fully a vampire, the sunlight would burn him alive if he stepped directly into it. Directly in contact caused them to burn, partially shaded areas from the sunlight made them sweat, feeling weak, and deathly sick. It was only in true darkness that they were in any fit shape to move around. Zero had to only worry about feeling weaker than normal. In total darkness, he was as hyper as any child, but in the sunlight, he always felt slightly tired. He was still hyper though.

As a kid, he might have felt lonely, but the company of the monks kept him content to an extent. When he became old enough to learn how to suppress his fangs, keep them withdrawn and hidden, to make him look some what normal, he was given his freedom, to do as he liked around the inn, and around people, so long as he kept his fangs unseen. It was fairly easy to do, concentrating on his fangs and thinking of them disappearing; they retracted back quite quickly. Once he started walking among the inn and people, he had to do work unfortunately. Zero didn't mind though, he wanted something to do, anything at all. As a servant and farm helper, he was just as active and willing to help as any boy at the age of seven. The only problem they had was the smell of blood that sometimes lay around Zero. Though not a permanent solution, washing and brushing his teeth after feeding worked well enough to get rid of the smell. With him helping around the farm, and the known problems any person might have where they injury or cut themselves by accident, this worked without trouble. As he needed to only feed once a week, he did it at night, where there were less people, and where he could best work in the darkness.

Things went smoothly for everyone in the passing years, and there were times where by chance, Victor could take Zero out into the world beyond for a few days. Ever cautious about his hunger, they went out only the day after he feed, and only stopped to sleep in the wilderness rather than in doors. It was far too risky to sleep near other people, especially when some people could tell the difference between those who were normal, and the ones who weren't. Luckily for both of them, none of the trips ever got to be a problem. Often enough, they had little to worry about except for when they slept in the wild and had to be careful of the wild beasts. Victor was skilled with a quarter staff, bow, and some magical spells, and as long as the creatures weren't too powerful, they would be just fine.

His happy childhood years didn't last forever. At the age of seventeen, a noblewoman came by the inn, seeking shelter for the night. It wasn't very common they got any noble born passing through and even spared the thought of staying there, but it happened on occasion. In such cases, they tried their best to please whoever came, in hopes of getting a large tip for their services. For much, if not all his time there, he grew his hair out down to his waist and tied it back into a ponytail, leaving his bangs at the front long enough to grace his chest and frame his face. Often considered quite handsome, even as a child, but even his looks, he knew, wouldn't win over any nobleman, be it man or woman. They would glance at him, and spare some moments talking to them, but the ones the inn sometimes got were those who were high in attitude. They only talked because of his handsome features. This lady though was different. When she walked through the door, he could feel her eyes on him even with his back turned to her, going about his daily routine of washing the floors.

It was late after dark at that point and when Victor went to greet her, she had few words to spare with him, only asking for a room for the night and a meal to eat. Disappointed but otherwise following what she requested, he sent for some workers to set up the room, and had a meal fixed up for her. The one chosen was actually the one right next to Zero's room, and the best one besides his own, a large window in the wall that oversaw the farm in the back and giving a great view of the mountain as it set beyond its cliffs. The day progressed on as usual. By morning the next day, he could feel someone watching him as he worked on the wheat side of the field, and every time he looked up to see who it was, there was no one in sight. Just as suddenly when he looked, the feeling would be gone, and then return when he went back to his work. It became very frustrating for him; he didn't like this feeling he got and wanted it to end, one way or another. He knew the lady was watching, but why watch him? Besides being handsome, what would she want with him?

To Victor's delight, the lady decided to stay at the inn for a few more days, having said that the breeze coming from the mountains nearby was very refreshing, and the view of the sun setting was very enchanting. Zero knew though that it was about half an act that Victor pulled on her. She might have enjoyed the place, but it was nearing Zero's time to feed for the week, and he couldn't risk going back to his room once he did. One day before his scheduled time for it, he decided that he would sneak out back to the barn and drink blood they collected from a dead chicken they found in the pen a day before. From there, he would go about his normal routine: warm up the blood slightly in a closed container so that it at least didn't cause him to shake from the cold and so the smell didn't drift off into the wind and attract unwanted attention.

Every now and then between the second to last day and the last before having to drink, the lady would speak to him briefly, asking him who he was, some bits of information, even about his life here. Before years ago, he would have been flattered, but now these days, even if she was a noblewoman, he didn't put much stock into the idea that she would spend much of her time with him. Still, Freya as she called herself, talked to him, and often kept him away from his daily duties working around the inn and farm. Victor on several occasions had to tell Zero to get back to work, a first among many, and it gave the others something to talk about. The day went, and the next soon followed when night fell. He got everything ready ahead of time in the barn, and was in the process of going out when one of her servants came around to the front and instructed him to follow her and see Freya. The stupid girl wouldn't even let Zero go out of the inn, despite him saying that he had something important he had to go do and likely could take all night. Stubborn girl like that.

Dragged to her door almost, he knocked on the door, but there wasn't any answer. The servant said to go in anyway and she would be with him shortly. This was really starting to get on his nerves, as he knew he couldn't stay together long without the blood he had prepared, and this sudden call didn't help matters. Still...best not make things any worse than they already were. Going inside, there was no one in sight, not from one end of the room to the other, and there were only few boxes around of the lady's stuff. He expected there to be many more, but surprisingly, there wasn't. He didn't need to wait long for the lady to appear, as she walked inside about a minute later, and closed the door behind her discreetly. Freya was barely dressed, only in what appeared to be a silk nightgown, and it left little in the way of imagination, hugging her body closely.

"What is it? Do I not please you?" This was a first. Zero could count on one hand the amount of female nobles that came into the inn, and every one of them before Freya had been snobby, rude, and self-centered about themselves. This one though...she was very much interested in him, that much he had already given thought about over the course of the last two days, but she could not have picked a much more dangerous time than when he was nearing his limit on needing to feed. It wasn't that he couldn't control it, it just became quite difficult at first, and after twenty-four hours, that's when it gets to him going a bit crazy. She obviously had no knowledge of him being a Dhampir (how could she anyway?), and started walking to him, gracefully occupied with what she was doing. And just as he put up any sort of protest against what she was doing, she kissed him.

From that point onward, anyone could imagine what went on in that bedroom. Clothes went flying, and the bed was used...a lot. For Zero, he's been with women before, don't get him wrong, but this was a night he wasn't going to forget any time soon. Unfortunately, it was a night that would be remembered for different reasons. It was some time in the middle of the night...he was spent...had been spent quite a few times but kept on going afterward anyway. They were both sweating, Freya over top of him, her waist aligned with his, and she was sitting up as she continued with what she was doing. Exhausted and happy with what she was doing, he just relaxed himself and let her go about her work. A few minutes went by...and he started to notice something that wasn't quite right. The more she continued...the more tired he became, and he wasn't even doing anything. One minute ticked by, and then another, then another, until it seemed as if time slowed down for him as he watched her.

With a sick frustration, wanting to flee, wanting to fight, he couldn't move a muscle, completely paralyzed where he lay with his arms above his head. That's when he realized what kind of woman Freya really was. She was a human...but with Succubus powers, and she got him in bed so that she could drain him dry of his energy...all of it. Her form vibrated with her powers, and was quite evident in her aura, seen clearly now as he watched her. Whether the servant knew of her master's powers, or if she helped her, he didn't know at that point. He wanted to fight back, drive her off of him, make her pay for the trickery she used on him. To no avail, he was stuck, lying in a bed and having his body drain of energy through sex...what a sick, twisted way to die. When he could not think of anything else to do in his situation, his hunger suddenly kicked in. His brain went into overload, driven by a carnivorous will to feed on the living. Before, he had it suppressed, but now that she drained his energy, his concentration on his hunger lessened. The instinct, the need he felt shake his soul and body, he looked at her with a red gaze of yearning hunger. And he could move. Her face was blanketed by horror when his fangs sank into her neck.

He's feed on a human before...it was voluntary, from one of the female monks that lived at the inn, and under Victor's supervision, to make sure it didn't go too far. He forced himself to stop in time before he drained her...but this time was different. The difference now was that he wasn't draining a human...he was draining a vampire. He learned who she was the moment he bit into her. A cruel fate and curse for most vampires and Dhampirs was that of memory. The more blood they drank of a being, the more of their memories they "learn" of as they feed. The physical and emotional come all at once. Though they could never truly know every memory the person has unless over a long period of time of drinking their blood, it is often a very important and useful way to get information, such as from prisoners that won't talk.

For Zero though, Freya's memories were better left hidden. The images he saw disgusted him. Vampires feeding on humans day by day, leaving the feed to die in some ditch or hole they leave them in, to starve or bleed out what little blood they have left. He found himself hating it, but the emotions were there too, mixed in it all. Most didn't do it because they wanted to, but because they had to. Either they feed, or die; it was as simple as that. Freya was the worst of them, she neither cared nor pitied humans, seeing them only as cattle, only as an enjoyment. She wanted Zero so that she could take his energy, seeing him as a source of very valuable food. The memories only made him angrier. A noblewoman she was, but she would likely not be missed. He wouldn't have cared anyway, his hunger demanded he feed, and he didn't stop.

When it was done and over with, her lifeless body lay on the floor of the room, two bite marks on her neck and crimson blood trailing down her naked breasts. She had been very good at magic, making her skin feel warm to fool him and creating an illusion of her servant to fool all of them into thinking she had been there. Now as a corpse, she did little for any of them. Zero told Victor what had happened and the mess was cleaned up. As Freya had been a vampire, they burned the body to ashes quickly in the sunlight, no longer protected by any magic she was using before to make her immune to the sun. And when it was all over and done with, Zero felt sickened. Freya knew of who he was, as a Dhampir, but she cared little for it other than taking his energy. He was a large source of energy for her, and her only thoughts the entire time of how to get a hold of him. It disgusted him to no end.

He began to lose faith in a lot of things from then on; who he was, vampires in the world, and even the concept of moral grounds. The vampire had no honor...she was cold hearted, evil, and cared little for who she effected. He had seen cruel acts before...but this topped them all. It wasn't long after that he felt a need to leave. Every time he passed by the room next to his, the memory just kept on coming back. He needed to get out of there, to find some place of his own, and leave these memories behind him. To leave it behind, however, meant he had to leave everything else behind. The memory of that room kept clouding his mind...made him angry...disgusted and empty inside. Barely three days past by before he suddenly just...left. He took his things, his daito, tanto, and even the black coat that had been left with him as a child. How it felt him so perfectly like a glove, he may never know. Even Victor was puzzled by the strange object.

As for where he would end up, he wasn't exactly sure. He went up to the north into Judita, came across several villages and towns that gladly gave him work. Only problem was that the work didn't pay enough so he could buy food for himself, and the jobs themselves were very hard labored, ranging from digging tunnels in the mountains to working on farm land. It wasn't long after this that he resorted to thievery. To his surprise, he was quite good at it; sometimes getting food, sometimes coins, and other times, he got a whole bag of items. Never once did he get caught, and over time, he got enough money going for himself that he was able to hitch a ride on a large wagon going for Erium. When he arrived in the city, he knew he had things going for him.

Unfortunately, even as Erium was made from stone, the place had its share of bad misfortunes. More than once, he even came across other vampires. The memory of that night with Freya would bubble to the surface, and his anger grew. Whether they sensed the anger or not was not obvious, but they would always pick a fight with him. While other humans might not have been able to see who was a vampire and who was not, they were able to pick out each other. He always gave them some run for their money, his good balance giving him an edge against them. He didn't always win, but he didn't always lose either. Over time, his personality hardened in the city into what it is today. He got his hair cut and dyed to match the cloak he has, and after figuring out its powers, it made stealing that much easier. Sometimes he would get caught, but he would always run away, and never get hold of him. Running across buildings can do that for you.

He might not have had a place of his own, but going from shelter to shelter in the city made life very easy for him. Until the night that darkness blanketed the sky, and he heard inhuman sounds in the night. His cloak saved himself that night, making him invisible as the creatures ran past him in the streets. He hid in the shadows, hiding from them and watching from the corner of his eye. Creatures and soldiers alike were among them, and he could not for the faintest of ideas understand what was going on. This went on for hours, the screams of the dying filling the air. He wanted to run, needed to, and that's what he did. Slipping between buildings, he found a horse near one of the outside gates, not a creature in sight for now, and how the animal had stayed alive, he'll never know. He didn't waste time thinking about it, getting on top and riding out toward the grassland. He didn't know if he was heading north or south, east or west, or if he was getting anywhere at all. The darkness covered everything, and the only thing he could do was ride; ride, and not look back. When the stars above finally glared through the darkness, he stopped his horse, glancing back now to see what was going on. Though the area ahead was clear, there was nothing but a giant dome of shadows where he rode from. He didn't think about it...didn't want to think about it. Turning forward, he rode on, unsure as to where he was, and only stopped to sleep.

He could only ask himself this: what now?