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Character Profile: Axel.
Name: Lae/Axel.
Element: Fire.
Number: VIII.
Personality:
When Axel wants to be happy, which is often, he smiles and laughs, eyes sparkling with humor and mischief. When he wants to be happy, he's a prankster more than a trickster, playful and cajoling with his words. He winks, he gestures, he bats his eyelashes; he snarks, he teases, he tries to get others to laugh, draws upon the casual arrogance that seems to come so naturally to him and never says sorry. When Axel wants to be happy, he looks damn happy.
When Axel wants to be unhappy, which is sometimes, he frowns and glowers, kicks his feet, grits his teeth. His eyes go to the floor, his shoulders slump, his voice goes low, words coming slow and sluggish from his mouth. He can't seem to lift his head, he can't seem to move quickly, can't even seem to lift his lips in a smile. When Axel wants to be unhappy, he looks damn unhappy.
When Axel wants to be angry, which is rare, his features contort and twist into fury. A light in his eyes flare, his fists clench, his entire body shakes with suppressed rage. He yells, his voice becoming strong and loud, stomps his feet, throws fire around like he's completely unaware, or maybe uncaring, that he might hurt someone. When Axel wants to be angry, he looks damn angry.
When Axel wants to be serious, which is the rarest of all, he goes quiet, thoughtful, tilting his head. His movement stills, his eyes go far, he taps at his head as if it might help him concentrate harder. His face goes blank, devoid of any emotion but frankness and honesty. When Axel wants to be serious, he looks damn serious.
The problem--or at least the Organization's problem--is that none of these, of course, is actually Axel.
When it comes to emotions, they flicker across Axel's face--and really, his entire body--just like the fire he commands, dancing across his skin and bones with completely free reign while he feels absolutely none of them at all. Of all the Organization, he might be the most "emotional," not holding back with anything he has the urge to "feel"--or at least, seeming like he's not holding back, anyway, even when he does just to suit his purposes. Usually, it's completely impossible to tell what he's actually thinking--and forget telling what he's actually thinking, it's hard enough just to tell if he's taking anything seriously or not. But dig a little deeper under the surface of the blazing, switching, dancing lavalike lake of emotion--and, assuming you survive, you'll hit a rock wall, solid and thick, that nothing is going to get through.
Unfortunately for Axel, this includes Axel himself.
This includes Axel himself, for Axel is a master of deception--and like most masters of deception, he's so good at what he does that he can even fool himself--sometimes can't help but fool himself while acting or in order to pull off his schemes. After all, the first rule of lying is to look like you believe it, and the first rule of looking like you believe it is to actually do it: there's nothing more convincing than actual conviction. Inside, Axel himself is torn between truly wanting to -be- the playful, volatile, confident, unpredictable man he shows to everyone else and what he actually is: just a blank canvas, just a blank screen, projecting whatever someone, anyone, wants or needs him to project.
And just as he's a blank canvas, and just as Axel's heart was once fire embodied, it's off of others' reactions that Axel thrives. Axel is fire, and fire is not self-sustaining; fire always needs something to burn, a supply of energy, an outside source. And this is what he hates most about himself: the fact that he -needs- others around him. He hates his dependency on the Organization, hates dependency on anything in general, but can't leave them completely, for there's no where else for him to go and no one he can depend on to be there so that he's not completely alone. He's only with them to get his heart back, and once he's self-sustaining again, he's long gone: and maybe gone before that, too, if he decides that he just can't "stand" it any more--or that maybe he's self-sustaining as he is.
But for now, being alone, completely alone, is what Axel fears most. With no one there, there's no one to act for, no one to be happy, sad, mad, or serious for, and without that audience and reaction to count on, Axel is lost as to what to do. Without anyone there, there's no one for him to feel -for-, and without someone to feel for, he just can't find the energy to try. And Axel just can't stand the thought of being completely bland: while others are around, he's so good at lying that he can half-convince himself that he still can feel, even though he knows he's lying and he knows he can't.
Axel is a collection of a dozen different shifting, smiling, frowning, angry, serious masks that would rather die than really, truly believe that all of them feel nothing at all.
And naturally, Axel obviously isn't to be trusted. It's hard to trust a man that doesn't--maybe can't--even trust himself.
History:
Life had once been good for him. Life, in fact, had once been the best thing in the whole damn world for him. Life was every time he breathed in, every time he blinked, every time his heart beat. Waking up every day had been paradise. Life had once been his perpetual love affair--as well as something he'd had to fight for with every moment he had it.
If only Life had been all there was.
Politics. It was always politics, ducking one man and avoiding another: electing one woman and backstabbing her brother, trying to stay in favor with the people above you and trying to use the hell out of the people beneath. A master manipulator with a silver tongue, a genuine smile, and a knife behind his back, Lae had no problems moving up in the world even though he'd been born a commoner's son: lying about his birth and taking the name of a dead noble family had been a breeze. However he soon found out that the rest of it wasn't as easy: keeping his place in court was a daily game of adrenaline rushes and political strategy that Lae quickly fell in absolute hate with.
He hated it, all the lying, all the bragging, all the pretending to know and have heard of things he hadn't: he hated it all, dancing through spider webs, avoiding the poisons, having to burn his way through all who opposed him--directly or indirectly. But he was in love with life, he was good at the game, and it was too late for him to go back. Besides, even with all the danger, it was better than a commoner's life could ever have been, anyway--his parents had starved to death long ago, and it was all he could do to keep his younger brother alive by pulling strings to keep the guards off the little thief's tail.
But he smiled through it for years and years, making it higher and higher up in society: and with each time he moved up a tier, the more he hated politics and the more he loved life. Life was precious, a commodity, something that he fought tooth and nail and silver tongue for, something that so many people around him that pretended to like him were scheming and plotting to try and take away. So, while pretending to like them back, Lae schemed and plotted and took theirs instead--not out of personal feelings but merely out of self-defense. His life was his and -no one- was touching it without his permission, and that was it. No one. -No- one, damn it, not without getting through him first.
Not surprisingly, when the Darkness came to his world, Lae was the last man standing, standing in the main hall of the Empire's castle and screaming out his name into the dark, refusing to forget it. He'd worked -too damn hard- to let it go so easily, he'd suffered -too damn long- to lose even the memories of what he'd done, liked life -too damn much- to just give up and die. He felt the Darkness tear something out of him, but he was still standing, still alive, still breathing...
And all alone, completely alone for the first time in all his years, one single lone man on an entire world.
One single lone man on an entire world that would have gone absolutely crazy in fear, if Nobodies could even have gone crazy, before the Darkness came again and took him with it this time, to the World that Never Was.
There, he was found by the Organization, who wanted to recruit him into their ranks: being wary of the politics of a new world, Lae refused at first, not wanting to depend on anyone or anything. After all, this was the first time in his life that he might be free without having to adhere to someone else's rules and etiquette, without being stifled by politics and rank. But it soon became clear to him what exactly was missing, as he wandered about alone: his emotions felt faded, fading, maybe gone. He couldn't stay alone like this, with no one to feel for, or he'd go crazy like he almost had back in his own world: he needed to be with people, whether he trusted them or they trusted him or not.
And why not the Organization, he thought to himself. They were a system with its own rules and ranks and intricacies just like the one he'd survived for so many years. A system that he could learn. Without a heart, it would just be easier to trick and cheat them and find his way to the top; once he had his heart and life back, he'd leave immediately and never come back. The idea that he was willingly going back into the spiders' web was hard to swallow at first, but Lae-now-Axel quickly adjusted to his new surroundings and set up his own niche. And there, in his niche, is where the master weaver sits now, daring the others to try and question or take it.
But not openly, of course. Never openly. Always behind a smile.
Other:
Although Axel's homeworld had an almost "medieval" political system, the world from which he came was a comparatively technologically advanced one--nothing out of science fiction (i.e. space travel), but perhaps found in steampunk (i.e. internet, machines, robots, and guns in the same world with castles and knights and Kings). He retains skill with his chakrams because they were once his favored weapons, mostly used in combat-simulator/games.
Name: Lae/Axel.
Element: Fire.
Number: VIII.
Personality:
When Axel wants to be happy, which is often, he smiles and laughs, eyes sparkling with humor and mischief. When he wants to be happy, he's a prankster more than a trickster, playful and cajoling with his words. He winks, he gestures, he bats his eyelashes; he snarks, he teases, he tries to get others to laugh, draws upon the casual arrogance that seems to come so naturally to him and never says sorry. When Axel wants to be happy, he looks damn happy.
When Axel wants to be unhappy, which is sometimes, he frowns and glowers, kicks his feet, grits his teeth. His eyes go to the floor, his shoulders slump, his voice goes low, words coming slow and sluggish from his mouth. He can't seem to lift his head, he can't seem to move quickly, can't even seem to lift his lips in a smile. When Axel wants to be unhappy, he looks damn unhappy.
When Axel wants to be angry, which is rare, his features contort and twist into fury. A light in his eyes flare, his fists clench, his entire body shakes with suppressed rage. He yells, his voice becoming strong and loud, stomps his feet, throws fire around like he's completely unaware, or maybe uncaring, that he might hurt someone. When Axel wants to be angry, he looks damn angry.
When Axel wants to be serious, which is the rarest of all, he goes quiet, thoughtful, tilting his head. His movement stills, his eyes go far, he taps at his head as if it might help him concentrate harder. His face goes blank, devoid of any emotion but frankness and honesty. When Axel wants to be serious, he looks damn serious.
The problem--or at least the Organization's problem--is that none of these, of course, is actually Axel.
When it comes to emotions, they flicker across Axel's face--and really, his entire body--just like the fire he commands, dancing across his skin and bones with completely free reign while he feels absolutely none of them at all. Of all the Organization, he might be the most "emotional," not holding back with anything he has the urge to "feel"--or at least, seeming like he's not holding back, anyway, even when he does just to suit his purposes. Usually, it's completely impossible to tell what he's actually thinking--and forget telling what he's actually thinking, it's hard enough just to tell if he's taking anything seriously or not. But dig a little deeper under the surface of the blazing, switching, dancing lavalike lake of emotion--and, assuming you survive, you'll hit a rock wall, solid and thick, that nothing is going to get through.
Unfortunately for Axel, this includes Axel himself.
This includes Axel himself, for Axel is a master of deception--and like most masters of deception, he's so good at what he does that he can even fool himself--sometimes can't help but fool himself while acting or in order to pull off his schemes. After all, the first rule of lying is to look like you believe it, and the first rule of looking like you believe it is to actually do it: there's nothing more convincing than actual conviction. Inside, Axel himself is torn between truly wanting to -be- the playful, volatile, confident, unpredictable man he shows to everyone else and what he actually is: just a blank canvas, just a blank screen, projecting whatever someone, anyone, wants or needs him to project.
And just as he's a blank canvas, and just as Axel's heart was once fire embodied, it's off of others' reactions that Axel thrives. Axel is fire, and fire is not self-sustaining; fire always needs something to burn, a supply of energy, an outside source. And this is what he hates most about himself: the fact that he -needs- others around him. He hates his dependency on the Organization, hates dependency on anything in general, but can't leave them completely, for there's no where else for him to go and no one he can depend on to be there so that he's not completely alone. He's only with them to get his heart back, and once he's self-sustaining again, he's long gone: and maybe gone before that, too, if he decides that he just can't "stand" it any more--or that maybe he's self-sustaining as he is.
But for now, being alone, completely alone, is what Axel fears most. With no one there, there's no one to act for, no one to be happy, sad, mad, or serious for, and without that audience and reaction to count on, Axel is lost as to what to do. Without anyone there, there's no one for him to feel -for-, and without someone to feel for, he just can't find the energy to try. And Axel just can't stand the thought of being completely bland: while others are around, he's so good at lying that he can half-convince himself that he still can feel, even though he knows he's lying and he knows he can't.
Axel is a collection of a dozen different shifting, smiling, frowning, angry, serious masks that would rather die than really, truly believe that all of them feel nothing at all.
And naturally, Axel obviously isn't to be trusted. It's hard to trust a man that doesn't--maybe can't--even trust himself.
History:
Life had once been good for him. Life, in fact, had once been the best thing in the whole damn world for him. Life was every time he breathed in, every time he blinked, every time his heart beat. Waking up every day had been paradise. Life had once been his perpetual love affair--as well as something he'd had to fight for with every moment he had it.
If only Life had been all there was.
Politics. It was always politics, ducking one man and avoiding another: electing one woman and backstabbing her brother, trying to stay in favor with the people above you and trying to use the hell out of the people beneath. A master manipulator with a silver tongue, a genuine smile, and a knife behind his back, Lae had no problems moving up in the world even though he'd been born a commoner's son: lying about his birth and taking the name of a dead noble family had been a breeze. However he soon found out that the rest of it wasn't as easy: keeping his place in court was a daily game of adrenaline rushes and political strategy that Lae quickly fell in absolute hate with.
He hated it, all the lying, all the bragging, all the pretending to know and have heard of things he hadn't: he hated it all, dancing through spider webs, avoiding the poisons, having to burn his way through all who opposed him--directly or indirectly. But he was in love with life, he was good at the game, and it was too late for him to go back. Besides, even with all the danger, it was better than a commoner's life could ever have been, anyway--his parents had starved to death long ago, and it was all he could do to keep his younger brother alive by pulling strings to keep the guards off the little thief's tail.
But he smiled through it for years and years, making it higher and higher up in society: and with each time he moved up a tier, the more he hated politics and the more he loved life. Life was precious, a commodity, something that he fought tooth and nail and silver tongue for, something that so many people around him that pretended to like him were scheming and plotting to try and take away. So, while pretending to like them back, Lae schemed and plotted and took theirs instead--not out of personal feelings but merely out of self-defense. His life was his and -no one- was touching it without his permission, and that was it. No one. -No- one, damn it, not without getting through him first.
Not surprisingly, when the Darkness came to his world, Lae was the last man standing, standing in the main hall of the Empire's castle and screaming out his name into the dark, refusing to forget it. He'd worked -too damn hard- to let it go so easily, he'd suffered -too damn long- to lose even the memories of what he'd done, liked life -too damn much- to just give up and die. He felt the Darkness tear something out of him, but he was still standing, still alive, still breathing...
And all alone, completely alone for the first time in all his years, one single lone man on an entire world.
One single lone man on an entire world that would have gone absolutely crazy in fear, if Nobodies could even have gone crazy, before the Darkness came again and took him with it this time, to the World that Never Was.
There, he was found by the Organization, who wanted to recruit him into their ranks: being wary of the politics of a new world, Lae refused at first, not wanting to depend on anyone or anything. After all, this was the first time in his life that he might be free without having to adhere to someone else's rules and etiquette, without being stifled by politics and rank. But it soon became clear to him what exactly was missing, as he wandered about alone: his emotions felt faded, fading, maybe gone. He couldn't stay alone like this, with no one to feel for, or he'd go crazy like he almost had back in his own world: he needed to be with people, whether he trusted them or they trusted him or not.
And why not the Organization, he thought to himself. They were a system with its own rules and ranks and intricacies just like the one he'd survived for so many years. A system that he could learn. Without a heart, it would just be easier to trick and cheat them and find his way to the top; once he had his heart and life back, he'd leave immediately and never come back. The idea that he was willingly going back into the spiders' web was hard to swallow at first, but Lae-now-Axel quickly adjusted to his new surroundings and set up his own niche. And there, in his niche, is where the master weaver sits now, daring the others to try and question or take it.
But not openly, of course. Never openly. Always behind a smile.
Other:
Although Axel's homeworld had an almost "medieval" political system, the world from which he came was a comparatively technologically advanced one--nothing out of science fiction (i.e. space travel), but perhaps found in steampunk (i.e. internet, machines, robots, and guns in the same world with castles and knights and Kings). He retains skill with his chakrams because they were once his favored weapons, mostly used in combat-simulator/games.