Black, Irix

[attr="class","temptitle"]Personality

[attr="class","temptabinf"]Irix is, in short, something of an asshole. Now, that isn’t to say he hates everyone around him. Rather he comes off as gruff and rather unpleasant because it’s essentially his job to do so. He’s a protector by nature, and has a tendency to make this clear more by his actions than whatever words he may opt to use in conversation. That being said, he’s a surprisingly personable individual, and if you can actually manage to get him engaged in a conversation he takes interest in you’ll find that his hard exterior isn’t quite as unwelcoming as it initially seems. As stated before, he takes his responsibilities very seriously, perhaps due in part to an event in his past that has managed to haunt him for longer than he would like for it to.

Haunting and asshole exterior aside, a short while around the man will very quickly reveal that not only is he not as unpleasant as he first comes across as, but he’s actually got quite the heart of gold. He gets a sort of thrill from combat, and while he won’t pick fights that are unnecessary, he won’t hesitate to jump into the fray if someone is outnumbered, outmatched, or both, regardless of whatever risk it poses to him. This, of course, has a tendency to cause quite a number of individuals to swoon in his presence, though he either doesn’t care or doesn’t notice. Spoiler alert: it’s the former. Irix doesn’t particularly think in romantic terms much at all, and actually tends to become rather flustered when the topic is brought up (and subsequently pushed). He does aggravate rather easily, but it should be noted that words don’t bother him. It is the actions an individual takes that are more likely to irritate him than anything they can say.

[attr="class","temptitle"]Appearance

[attr="class","temptabinf2"]Standing at an impressive 6’3” (191 cm) and maintaining a rather toned and lean build within his person, Irix has a startling lack of any sort of proper attire when it comes to his upper body… in any situation except the most formal. In fact, catching the man in a shirt is one of the rarest incidents that’s even possible. He tends to opt instead for a rather long jacket, one which reaches down to his knees yet appears to be rather light. In truth, it weighs several pounds and is made of a rather interesting mix of materials, the most prominent of which being kevlar. This black jacket of his tends to be coupled with tan pants and black steel-toed combat boots.

As far as his more defining physical features, Irix has shaggy, short black hair and eyes of a piercing, almost intimidating shade of gold. Those who’ve been on the receiving end of his glare tend to comment that it feels as though one is being stared down by a dragon or similarly imposing creature, which is more of a testament to the manner in which Irix handles himself than anything. Speaking of dragons, he has matching tattoos on both of his arms: a duo of Eastern Dragons curling along the length of the appendage. They seem to bear some sort of significance, but the exact meaning of them is something only he himself knows. Alongside this physical accessory he wears a golden pendant, which is engraved with a Latin phrase and composed dominantly of gold. There’s a clasp upon it that suggests it can be opened, and he has the habit of grabbing hold of it to steady his nerves in some situations.

[attr="class","tempfaceico"]Face Claim

[attr="class","tempface"][b]TOUKEN RANBU, shokudaikiri mitsutada[/b] as @irix

[attr="class","temptitle"]History

[attr="class","temptabinf3"]Betrayal.

You’re used to it by now, but it stings nonetheless. He was your brother, for gods’ sake.

Yet he still took the one thing you cared about more than anything on this forsaken world.

Her name was Sera. Brown hair, blue eyes. The sweetest smile and the most contagious laugh. The two of you had met in high school, and rather quickly you’d realized that you didn’t know how to live without her.

Funny how memories remind you of just how short-sighted you once were.

Your brother had always fancied himself some sort of villain, so it didn’t particularly surprise you when you found his face on the front page of a newspaper along some absurd headline speaking of a new criminal gang that had cropped up in your hometown. He’d always been the evil to your heroism. Always thought he was better than you in every way, but he’d never directed his jealousy of you anywhere but to you yourself…

...so when he took Sera, you snapped. It was easy to hunt him down. He was at Dead Man’s Peak. A place a few miles out of town where most people go to die. It was a widow’s peak, cliff and all. The smell of salt filled the air, and you tore through the forest that guarded it within seconds. He’d brought company with him, but he’d forgotten that you had every physical advantage in the book… or at least a few of the ones that mattered. There’s only so much that regeneration can do when you have your skull caved in.

Blood or not, he’d wronged you in ways unforgivable. Blood or not, he’d done things already that you couldn’t forgive, and so you did what you had to do. It didn’t hurt, at first. You were more concerned with how he’d nearly thrown your girlfriend off of the cliff, and the rain that had been pouring for some time. You tried to pull her up, to safety and into your arms.

You tried. You tried as hard as you could, and you’ve told yourself this for years.

It’s never eased the pain.

She slipped from your grasp. The rain had made it clear that the world would claim her, and so it did. She fell, and you screamed her name.

...It was the same nightmare night after night. The same recollection of memories that you’d prefer to never deal with again. You got up out of bed, moving to the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water to calm your nerves. Were it any other time of day you’d have replaced the water with alcohol, but you were trying to break yourself of that habit. There was a schedule on the fridge, times and dates in a neat format, and you spotted your name in the list. It had been three years since that day, and you’d relocated entirely. You’d found yourself a new job, though it was one still connected to the underground in some way. You downed the rest of your glass, checking the time for today on the schedule before letting out a sigh.

You still had a good three hours before you needed to be in for your shift. Sleep wasn’t particularly enticing anymore, and so you donned your usual outfit and headed out. Your boss wasn’t exactly a morning person, and as such the Onyx didn’t tend to be open this early so you decided to head somewhere else.

You saw her at the docks. White hair, green eyes. Dressed in black and hiding in the shadows. You’d nearly missed her presence, but you watched her out of the corner of your eye as you stood at the end of the pier, the waves moving slowly before you before she vanished a few minutes later. You didn’t know what her presence meant, only that it was a new experience that you couldn’t quite tell yourself you enjoyed.

It was time to head in.

There was a long day ahead of you, but in the end it always proved to be worth the effort. You spent your days protecting others, as penitence to yourself for how you couldn’t protect her.

No matter how hard you told yourself you had tried.

[attr="class","temptitle"]Information

[attr="class","temptabinf3"]
Other characters:
Shiranai Huzaki