Howler, Zenith

[Guest]

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CASE FILE: Alchemist/Cretan Militant

"Whatever you do... don't tell anyone."
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FULL NAME:
→ Zenith 'Zen' Barran Howler

AGE:
→ 28

SEX:
→ Male

BIRTH PLACE:
→ Cork, Carraig

RACE:
→ Cretan/Moron

DATE OF BIRTH:
→ Jan. 7th, 1985

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HEIGHT:
→ 5ft11/180cm

WEIGHT:
→ 14st3/90kg

PICTURE:
→

Spoiler:

DESCRIPTION:
→ Standing with a slender, athletic frame, Zenith Howler is a figure that immediately strikes most as odd. There's little reasoning for this, but it's easy to pick out after you focus on it; let's start from the top, shall we?

Zen has a large head of brown hair, with a distinctly odd green-ish tint. It's large, fluffy, and knots easily, and, thus, he hates washing it. Touch it, and you shall burn in an alchemically-forged inferno after being cut to shreds with a series of razor-sharp cards. His eyes are small, and brown; his lips a deep, rich red to reflect a tanned, experienced face, sitting between them, most usually, a cigarette.

Zen normally walks with his hands stuffed into the pocket of a blue longcoat, over a yellow shirt with a black tie. Black-navy jeans allow for free movement, and he has a single gunbelt upon which his pistol, Calamity, sits. He wears black leather lace-up boots with heavy-set treads, good for running, kicking, etc etc. Zen speaks in a Brooklyn drawl.

Anger him, and you will quickly see that Zen fights and hits hard and fast. He's a veteran of several types of black-ops martial arts - being head of IA comes with its perks - befitting his occupation. He knows the most lethal close-combat disabling tricks, and, if push comes to shove, can kill a man.

His mannerisms are generally cool and collected, unless drinking, irritation, or the crown of all his vices, gambling, come into it.

*****

Okay, so, disregard that last paragraph entirely. Zen has shown himself to be a bumbling moron most of the time, stumbling around and making off-hand accusations whilst appearing to be a generally uneducated idiot. Or, just, someone with bad luck. He is never cool and collected, and should he ever attempt to be, he simply appears moronic, comical, and usually trips over something.

*****

Things have changed but Zen is no different to how he was prior to his disappearance. The only difference now is that he holds himself with slightly less of a clumsy stance during combat; however in day-to-day movement he's still an uncoordinated clutz, but just appears to have more skill and agility in close-quarters battle.

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PERSONALITY:
→ Zenith Barran Howler. The first thing you'll notice about this man's personality is... well, a bubbly cheer. Around other people - especially friends - he's enthusiastic and ambitious, if possessing a tendency to act somewhat more than usual like he has a single-digit IQ. He's very happy, rather warm, optimistic, and friendly, and claims to forever be looking for the 'next big break'.

The truth is that these breaks never go through. Zen's never made more than peanuts, scraping a few Cenz and dollars around, from any of his 'grand trips'. And he hasn't even set foot inside a casino, now, for six months. Why? The simple reason that he doesn't have enough money to.

Zen... Zen wants to make it big. He wants to be a high roller; he admires the lifestyle, the sex, the gambling, the women... the guys have everything set out for them. It's the most desirable of lives, and Zen's jaded, kaleidoscopic view of this only accentuates the glamour of it all.

This happy, charming exterior, summarised best with Zen fruitlessly constantly trying and failing to make it big - and even with little challenges, picking up women, ordering a take-out, anything - and subsequently falling flat on his ass... it has something hidden beneath. Another facet, another layer; true to the bone. Zen is cold; he feels it. He's lonely. The lifestyle is getting to him, and time is not the most bountiful of mistresses. He knows that he's running out of it, and as such, can lapse quite easily into depressive cycles.

In the big picture, Zen seems to, really, not care. He's somewhat of a drifter, very calm, collected, and some could say, apathetic and lazy. He, still, at 25, has absolutely no idea - aside from his pie-in-the-sky dreams - of what his main, realistic career line is going to be... his friendship with Vivian is practically the only thing which has preserved his current career future.

Often told he has a special skill for working with numbers and physics, Zen talks fast and works fast, especially when he hits a 'cycle'. This is a chain-link of facts that quickly come together in his head, and summarise best these incredible deduction skills and this powerful sense of intuition which rarely rears its head and surfaces above the water.

When it comes to politics, Zen really couldn't care, so long as they keep the world together. He admires Dietrich for his luxuries, and little else. However, when it comes to combat? Trained in martial arts and firearms due to his occupation, Zen views violence as a necessary evil for dealing with the corruption he all-too-commonly encounters during the course of every-day life.

Beyond this, it can be Zen is somewhat of a mad scientist, and seems to take pleasure in the littlest of discoveries. His alchemy is thoroughly important to him, but he doesn't let this show, often treating it as an obsessive hobby which niggles at him until he develops it further.

Zen believes that if you try an endless amount of times to jump a hurdle, eventually, past experience and new knowledge combined, you will find triumph. This is where he seems to get his eternally-optimistic attitude from (alongside coffee and cigarettes), and the mindset from which many of his attempts are drawn.

Zen also adores card games, viewing them, too, not as a hobby, but a way to make a leaving and break the bank. He spends hours scheming new routines and stratagems to test against the London casinos but continually finds himself hitting dead ends, being flat broke and kicked out on his ass onto the street again. This is a vicious, self-perpetuating cycle, germinating and feeding upon a man's vices and addictions.

*****

Zen is still addicted to gambling and still working his way into a dead end, and quite possibly more of an absolute fool than beforehand. He's shown naivete and gullibility, and, fortunately enough, alongside this, the makings of a few positive personality traits, though they're diamonds in the rough.

Zen's still generally a nice guy, though bad luck tends to befall him regularly, if not constantly. These awkward situations have lead to off-hand displays of camaraderie when it comes to Elastor, and, whilst, initially blissfully ignorant of her advances, the makings of some form of strong attraction towards Rebecca Wong, who he still knows as Morgana Moncrieff.

For the latter, he's not entirely sure how far his feelings stretch; is he a fling, is she a fling, or is there more there? The sparks of a relationships to be had? Zen, even with that opaque sheet keeping him blind to most people's reactions, seems to notice something in his perpetual state of being unaware of... well... everything.

Zen has shown generosity and, despite his moronic mannerisms, the ability to actually be something of a nice guy, though due to conversational slip-ups and bad wording, and even just bad luck and timing, 90% of people will regard him as a moron or an asshole.

The remaining 10% will regard him as both.

*****

More than he'd like to admit, this affair with the poison has not only weakened his body but also the strength and resilience of Zen's mind; whilst previously thinking himself not so much invulnerable as simply lucky, finally he has been struck with a heavy burden and has now been made to recognise the shackles of his mortality.

But that isn't to say it's changed Zen's perspective on life. He's the same old fellow as ever, smoking, drinking, gambling, and joking; but every now and then his smile creases and he can be caught doing those four not to enjoy himself but to deflect the harsh reality: that every second of his life is sustained by an ornate array carved into the interior of a syringe that he can't live without. He's a symbiote; no-longer completely self-sufficient. And one can wonder just how much of a toll this'll take on the investigator's so-called "eternal optimism".

The friendship he had with Elastor now seems a world away; but things have put Zenith to the test, and it seems that even having been a serious year, he's displayed loyalty, courage and determination; something a Zen of the year before would not have done. He is a changed and improved man; a slightly damaged man, but, all in all, he is Zen Howler all the same.

LOVE:
→ Casinos
→ Coffee
→ Suits and jackets
→ Ties
→ Cravats
→ Bow-ties
→ Shirts
→ Dress shoes
→ Numbers
→ Cards
→ Poker (above all other card games)
→ Pretending to like scotch and spirits
→ Trying to look cool
→ Achievement (bleep bloop)
→ Smoke and smoking
→ Good luck
→ His cat, Donnie
→ Numbers
→ His pistol, Calamity
→ His car (the Exige)
→ Squirrels
→ Roses
→ Rebecca (though he still knows her as Morgana)
→ Tanandra Collier's night-time featurettes
→ Osprey helicopters, man, are they badass
→ Elastor Ito (as a bro)
→ Staves and shit
→ Close-quarters combat
→ Shaolin monkery affairs
→ Chimpanzees. They're animals that look like dudes. Why shouldn't he love them?
→ Xing

HATE:
→ Casinos
→ Not wearing a suit
→ Activities that aren't logical/mathematical in nature
→ Unjustifiable murder
→ Scotch and spirits
→ Loud environments such as clubs
→ Failing to look cool
→ Being laughed at, especially by women
→ Narcotics
→ Sleeping pills
→ Public transport
→ Oliver Blingworthy
→ Bad luck
→ People touching his hair
→ People touching his car
→ Being broke
→ Bouncers
→ Dietrich
→ Tanandra Collier
→ Nerve gas
→ Limousines crashing into ballrooms
→ Elastor Ito (as a bro)
→ Chimpanzee turds

DEEPEST SECRET:
→ His greatest fear is being lost without a single contact in the world; totally and utterly friendless. It's also why he doesn't get close to people or women - it just opens up further margins for error, and is another person that he can hurt or can hurt him. In reality, this is because of what happened with his younger brother, Sidney.

IDOL:
→ That one dude who invented card games and shit
→ Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter
→ Seann William Scott, the Bulletproof Monk

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HISTORY:
→ Born to two oddball Cretan parents living in Carraig, Livia and Michael Howler, Zenith moved around a lot as a child. During his younger months, he grew up a sickly, pale child in the city of Cork, and before long, grew to a point where he could muster up the ability to talk, read, and, eventually, comprehend.

By three, Zen had not only taught himself how to read, but also how to perform basic mathematic sums. By five, the boy knew how to multiply and divide numbers with ease. By seven, he possessed a mathematical age of over fourteen, and had been branded a prodigy despite his seemingly lackadaisical attitude and a wish to just drift around. By the age of twelve, he could perform incredibly in math and physics papers that seventeen and eighteen year-old students struggled with, and by the age of fourteen, he was racing through college mathematics courses with flying colours.

Back, however, to the early years. After moving to New York in the first stages of infancy, a few months later, Livia Howler announced, once more, that she was pregnant, much to Michael's joy. Zenith simply giggled because his parents did, eternally a happy baby, now much healthier than he had been thanks to moving back to Creta.

Lo and behold, nine months later, another baby popped out; a younger sibling, with bright blonde hair and the purest, bluest eyes that the doctor had ever seen; Sidney Garrian Howler. The doctor knew great things were in store for this child; he had aspiration in his eyes. In his blood. Weighing in at a healthy size - a little on the plump side, really - and being a much happier birth than Zenith's, the family of, now, four quickly retreated home.

Aside from the odd sibling rivalry, bound to happen, Sidney and Zen were fairly good brothers, only really eighteen months apart. However, they differed strongly in personalities; Sidney was a far colder child, and very independent, seeking always to attempt things without assistance, often annoyed by his brother, the watchful eye over his shoulder, who was simply confused as to why he was being shouted at for attempting to help.

Slowly, Michael and Livia grew old, and their sons grew up in front of them. Zenith was the first to leave for college, obviously, and did so at the London School of Economics, one of the most prestigious institutions in the entire country, if the world; with his natural, innate learning ability and aptitude for mathematical studies, he was accepted, easily, and began a slew of advanced, accelerated courses, mainly in his main interests: Statistical Mathematics and Applied Physics.

Having always had a harder time at adjusting to learning with his brother racing ahead with seemingly no effort, Sidney was very much immediately aggravated by this, and too went off to college, despite his parents' heckling; struggling immensely, balancing a job and classes, the younger Sidney buckled many times beneath the weight but survived, just about, whilst Zenith simply sat on his ass and passed test after test launched at him with flying colours.

Whilst still in college, at a specific one-off alchemy/chemistry crash-course class offered only at the LSE, Zenith encountered the similarly-aged Miss Vivian Duchamp, a prospective alchemist who introduced him properly to the subject, despite his lack of dabblings in either that or chemistry. Barely on the cusp of their twenties, the pair quickly grew closer due to their affinity for knowledge and science, but split apart once more after they both graduated.

Zen, however, knocking still between casinos with visits to Las Vegas becoming increasingly prevalent, dabbled in alchemy for fun in his spare time, working quickly with cards and petty parlour tricks, perhaps seeking to gain another opening in a casino, from which he could get to know it from the inside and later break the bank; however, all-too-quickly, his brother arrived on his doorstep, the boy now turned to a twenty-one year old man, with a degree and worlds of experience under his belt, ready to go into economics.

Quickly, a shouting match kicked off between the brothers on what was supposed to be a routine, bi-annual visit; a ferocious argument erupted, and insults flew like darts. Eventually, Sid let the cat out of the bag; he'd hated, absolutely despised Zenith, just for how easy he'd made things look, and how inadvertently misleading he'd been, constantly trying to draw a practical man to the path of knowledge and hypothesising, despite Zenith's own, almost hypocritical, attitude. Distraught, confused, and unable to grasp Sidney's words at all, as his brother, his best friend in the entire world, left, and slammed the door behind him, Zen spent days - nay, weeks - pondering what his brother had said - and what he'd meant.

Trying desperately to take what he'd said into account, Zen tried to reform himself, left a message for Sidney to meet him at their parents' house, ready to apologise humbly and reveal that he was once more applying for a job as a physics lecturer. Once more torn when his own brother was there, he realised, that like a cancerous, infectious tumour, Sidney had cut him out of his life, to make a path of his own successes; the hatred had boiled inside of him for too long, and when it had engulfed the sibling instincts, he had not only alienated himself from his brother - but his own family.

Had Zenith made the right choices? Should he give up on his high-roller dreams? Was all this for nothing? He had a sparse, quickly-drying pool of funds to rely on, but nothing mattered anymore. His brother had left him... he had to rethink his attitude... right? Right?!

With alchemy textbooks as his only solace, Zen entered a two-week period of migraine-like depression, headaches wracking him, sleepless nights abundant, the man resorting to alchemy in order to attempt to force this creativity out of his body and tire himself. He needed just... something, as an outlet, to stop this lethal boredom from overrunning him... however... all-too-quickly, as he discovered his transmutation circle... and just what it could do, channelling its power into the cards as a conduit... a revelation hit him.

Why not be an alchemist?

This fresh scientific invigoration and rejuvenation under his belt, Zenith, now twenty-four, ran quickly to London, and applied immediately at the first physicist's job he could find. His credentials were more than enough, and the next week, he started the job... only to quit two weeks later.

It was boring. He despised it. Everything they did, he could predict the outcomes; and they were always, no exceptions - never exceptions - right. But, with the rejuvenation only slightly faded, he headed to the next institution... and the same happened, in less than a week.

Cycling through many jobs like this over a year, teacher, scientist, chemist, physicist... Zen's hope was eventually turned to dust upon gale-force winds, with little, practically nothing, to show for months of exhausting alchemical research save for an engraved pack of cards. None of the jobs had lasted him more than a month - with the paychecks as the only attraction. And, yet, on the verge of depression once more, just who did he bump into?

Vivian. Again.

Now a part of the established Crown Alchemist program, the old friend of Zenith's quickly explained her attitude; she was happy and diligently working for Dietrich Von Vermont, a man most knew as the Prime Minister of Creta - and not only that, a Royal Guard. The job seemed attractive enough... free time, equipment, and grants to develop his alchemy... training... that little spark he needed, the excitement to keep him going...

Vivian dropped a few suggestions here and there, and interest quickly arose; before long, she managed to get Zenith inserted into twelve weeks of the most physically demanding training he'd ever been through. It was horrible; nine-to-five work, but, eventually, the man worked his physique into peak condition. And, when, finally, he was allowed an audience with the Prime Minister and lord of Creta himself, Dietrich, the pair rambled on for hours of alchemy, politics, combat...

Now twenty-six, barely, almost one year ago, Zenith Howler rose from his seat, and shook the man's hand. Dietrich had offered him a job; head of Internal Affairs, under the IC-IC position. Intelligence; just right. Alchemy, free time, equipment... along with the excitement he'd asked for, and the excellent paycheck. With as many people working under him as was necessary for any invasion, along with the nosy ability to investigate just about anyone in the entirety of the Cretan military, Zen couldn't say anything but that one word that changed his life forever, trembling upon dark red lips, echoing upon the faint breezes of the grandiose office:

"Yes."

*****

Since he's began working for Dietrich, Zen has fucked up innumerable times, AND smashed Dietrich's ashtray. Somehow, the man seems to think he can slip a few past the Cretan Prime Minister, and keep him hooked on non-existent terrorist threats, attempting to manipulate his apparent paranoia. Dietrich seems not to care and just to leave him to his own devices.

Much to his chagrin, Zen ACTUALLY now has a hard-working subordinate who's keen to get things done in the office, and usually forces him into situations, though the man does occasionally pursue his own leads, when things get close to home. Namely... the Kensington Street Donut Incident. Or the KSDI, if we're doing cool acronyms. Basically, a donut factory stopped production. Having a sweet tooth, Zen picked up the lead...

...and became acquainted with Elastor Ito. After insulting the man several times and dragging him down to the industrial estate, the pair thwarted an Esparian drug cartel that had assimilated the territory, and Elastor saved his life several times. Needless to say, Zen didn't apologise, and continued to consider Elastor a terrorist and sworn enemy of confectionery and sweetness for another few weeks.

Zen also hooked up with Rebecca Wong, who he knows as Morgana. He's not sure if something's there, but she gave him a chance, and, hell, he took it. He'd like to develop the relationship further, and is starting to feel the sparks of REAL feelings beneath his bumbling inadequacies and conversational slip-ups. Not to mention his blissful ignorance and apparent inability to translate insinuations (which almost lost him with Rebecca).

Finally, Zen's tried loyally to defend Dietrich in the latest bout of international warfare and general chaos, and failed entirely. He got pinned down by a porn star, and intoxicated before he could even do anything awesome, and then somehow stumbled his way to a chopper as Aurel and co. kidnapped Dietrich. Ah well. Shit happens, right?

*****

The next stage of the assault came on Vanity's apartment in Amestris. Elastor and Zenith stuck together in order to storm her personal apartment and were told to dress to impress, robbing an abandoned tailor's on the way up there in order to adhere to their dress code. When the pair arrived, they were forced into a game of Russian Roulette, which both the homunculus and Elastor played, though Zen had different plans, instead brandishing a semi-automatic pistol and riddling the Sekretar with lead until she fell flat and vanished.

A few moments later, Elastor passed out and Zen had to carry him to the roof, where Deity waited, before having to return for Dietrich, laying him next to Elastor before having to make a decision. He had to choose one of them to save first: there was a chance the other wouldn't make it no matter what he did. And, rolling up his sleeves, taking a needle and some rubber medicinal tubing, the investigator crouched down to give a blood transfusion - to the Royal Guard.



After transfusing what was left of his clean blood in an attempt to save Elastor's life, Zen swiftly realised that his blood would regenerate infected with Vanity's poisons, which would progressively get worse and worse. Whilst Elastor had been infected with a higher concentration of the poison and treated immediately for it, Zen allowed the poison to take hold, and as such, the very origin of it begun to take root in his body.

Whilst on a short-term basis, Elastor's case was far worse, by idiotically choosing to return to battle instead of going into surgery, Zen had allowed the poison itself to actually affect the DNA that creates red blood cells, which meant that as Zen created blood, it now returns tainted and poisoned. The poison itself was slow-working but Zen could feel it sapping at his very core as he watched his friend's life from the waiting room, realising that for him, transfusion was too late. The creeping tendrils of the slow-working, differentiating poisons grabbed him and now refused to let go with their vice-like grip.

With no other methods to resort to save for permanent dialysis, Zen realised that the only way to find a consistent remedy for his tainted blood was to travel east, to the centre of alkahestry: Xing. Here, after learning the basics of poison-based alkahestry, he sculpted a very basic formulation of an antivenom-based array. Initially uncouth, untargeted, and insanely painful, it left him in debilitating pain for hours every day: but did the trick.

Over the next year, he perfected the array, with no contact back home partially for fear that Ela's life - having vanished as his best friend was comatose - had ended, and partially for an inability to show his face at home incase he'd be branded a traitor. When not working on the array for the antivenom, trying desperately to find a permanent solution, Zen honed his body, having temporarily quit smoking in order to take up martial arts and deny the poison every advance it would attempt to make.

But there was no permanent solution. Only a temporary fix that would last so long in so many bouts. But for Zen, as he just about perfected this fix, he realised that a year east was enough, and his body was ready to return. Twenty-four hours later, the investigator touched down on Cretan soil once more, a spring in his step as he inhaled the cold air, a gentle orange glazing over his whitened skin, the wind brushing that broccoli-coloured hair of his as he lit up a cigarette and asked for directions to the nearest casino. It'd been some time.

But Zen Howler changed for no-one or nothing.

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TRIVIA:
→ Illnesses? Disabilities? This may not count, but despite all his talk of 'luck of the draw', Zen has actually had some pretty bad luck, and continues to do so. He believes it's most likely because of his continual kicking black cats and breaking mirrors, but others say this is simply superstition and he just has a habit of not looking where he's going.
→ Takes night-classes for Aerugese. Now fluent.
→ Was once a card-counter, but got his ass kicked too many times trying it out that he slowly backed away from the previously-illustrious 'profession'.
→ Has a degree from the London School of Economics in Statistical Mathematics.
→ Speaks with a Brooklyn drawl because I can.
→ Can interpret cartomancy, although believes it to be a load of bullshit. The pictures are pretty, though.
→ Basically functions like a number-cruncher; Zen Howler, Human Calculator.
→ Often uses 'Remy LeBeau' as an alias.
→ Has dabbled in freelance bounty-hunting work, and still does as part of his IA occupation currently.
→ Zen's blood type is O-negative.
→ Since his trip to Xing, Zen has become proficient in a school of Xingese tai chi that focuses on the usage of the Xingese "Panlong gun", a three-section chain-linked staff.
→ Now owns a Xingese chimpanzee called Terry.
→ Can now also perform alkahestry.
→ Speaks Cretan and fluent Aerugese. Now also speaks nearly fluent Xingese.
→ Level 1 theme song is Chris Cornell's You Know My Name. Level 1 quote is 'When the stars in the sky all burn out, and when none are left to guide your way, where will you run?'.
→ Level 2 theme song is Four Year Strong's Heroes Get Remembered, Legends Never Die. Level 2 quote is 'You know I say that alone I can barely light a match, but together we can burn this place down.'
→ Level 3 theme song is Queens of the Stone Age's Lost Art of Keeping a Secret. Level 3 quote is 'Whatever you do, don't tell anyone...'

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ALIAS:
→ Ross

OTHER CHARACTERS:
→ Ayden Derocha, Noman Z. Godslayer, and Calvin J. Knox.

CREATOR'S COMMENTS:
→ Pick a card, any card... Zen was inspired almost totally by Gambit/Remy LeBeau and the movie 21.
→ LEVEL 2 UPDATES IN CYAN.
→ LEVEL 3 UPDATES IN SKY BLUE.

FACE CLAIM:

Code:

[b]Cowboy Bebop[/b]/[i]spike spiegel[/i]

CUSTOM RANK:
→ ACES HIGH
→ TWO PAIR
→ FULL HOUSE

OFFICIAL TITLE:
→ Shardstorm - The Shardstorm Alchemist

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[Reila Tsukino]

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