Len Tairious

[A]

Weapon

Name: Leonard "Len" Tairious

Age: 15

Gender: Male

Personality:

Leonard is, despite his youth, unusually mature for his age, as shown by his abnormally huge interest in physiology, and despite his obsessive behavior, he has a somewhat dignified and sophisticated air about him. However, there is a childishly immature side to him that only shows through on rare occasions, such as times of hardship. He has a tendency to overlook people who he deems unworthy, though if given reason to, he can and will come to respect them, though it takes a lot to become close to the somewhat cold individual. Leonard is very unaccustomed to not getting what he wants, and simply cannot fathom the idea that some people might not respect him as much as he expects them to, however there is at least an ounce of kindness and compassion behind his pride.


Physical:
Len's mere appearance is rather unusual, let alone his personality, as though his facial features are that of a young child's, he tends to dress in a manner that implies that he is much older. He has naturally dark teal hair, which is also rather unique, that is cut to an 'acceptable' length, according to his obsessive mother, and a slightly messy fringe. It is almost virtually never unkept, and groomed to perfection, most of the time, though it tends to go a little wild when he has other things to worry about. His blue eye, dark hair and fairly pale skin gives him a queer, yet striking appearance, and so easy to spot in a crowd. He stands at 58 inches, which gives the immediate impression that he is considerably younger than his true age, meaning that people tend not to take him seriously.

He preferrs to wear semi formal shirts, often Armani or Gucci, and black (though occasionally grey) trousers that one might usually wear with a suit, giving him an almost regal look. Though he does dress casually on occasion, with black or white dress shirt and dark blue jeans, though they are never bought in high street clothing stores. When at school, Len has been known to wear a t-shirt, jeans and a hoodie, though only on rare occasions.
He is rarely seen in public without some form of suit, albeit nothing too smart. Len can often be found with a black, white or blue formal shirt, topped off with a loosely tied red tie, a black or grey jumper (sweater, same thing) and black shoes that are usually a little dirty, due to his lack of interest in cleaning things in general unless completely necessary.
Since his "accident" a year previously, Len has also aquired a black eye patch over his right eye, as his blind eye is a rather gruesome sight indeed, barely even retaining its cold, blue complexion.


Weapon Description:



Len's weapon form very much resembles the likeness of what most would stereotypically assume to be a Death scythe, and has been told that he looks more like a Death Scythe than the actual Death Scythes, but only by a few. It does not take too much upper body strength to wield him, being an approximate average of 5 feet long, making him slightly smaller than most. Though looking at his human appearance, this is to be expected. His main form is basically that of a black and white scythe, with a serrated edge, with added spikes on the other side, mainly for effect though it is also quite useful in combat. It has two black ribbons tied around it, with black leather wrapped around it for extra comfort. The bottom of the staff is a white jagged metal edge, which is great for both blocking and attacking an opponent. The staff itself is fashioned from an udentified type of black wood that resembles oak, and metal in places. Though it may seem to be somewhat fragile in appearance, like his human appearance, it is increadibly durable and hasn't even a scratch on it yet.

He is able to partially transform, releasing fairly small, black blades from his forearms, though he can't use them independently in battle just yet., as he tends to rely fully on his Meister. He is able to swing his arms back and forth, creating a fairly strong slashing motion that isn't very effective, due to his lack of physical strength. The blades are basically the scythe on a smaller scale, though without the ribbons and leather. Len dislikes to use this ability however, as he often moans about how he cannot bend his arm when partially transforming, which is supposedly uncomfortable.

Strengths:

-Leonard's intellect is his most notable attribute, though as he is lacking greatly in terms of ability, it might even be his only one. He is especially interested in medical science, namely the anatomy and physiology of the human body and is almost always spurting irrelevant comments on the subject, especially in the company of nobility, in an often successful attempt to impress them. He would also quite happily display his musical "talent" to anybody who cared to listen, more often than not playing some form of piano.

-Can see souls through blind eye, though this ability is weak, and he has to close his good eye for it to work, meaning that he's completely blind to all but the souls within a two mile's radius of him.

Weaknesses:

-Complete lack of stamina (most amazing ability EVER)
-Mental illness, though he doesn't aknowledge that he suffers, and therefore has no name for his alternative personality, though it is obvious when he switches between the two, as his usually calm and relaxed behavior becomes hostile and in extreme cases, violent.

-Despite his age, he still retains the appearance and physical strength of a twelve year old/

History:

Len was born to a Death Scythe for a father and a completely human mother, with absolutely no abnormalities about her, who were residing in Death City at the time. His childhood was uneventful, and normal in many ways, but had very few friends. He is a naturally happy and inviting person, but his attitude towards others in general was not. Being the outsider for his frankly scarily jovial behavior, he was subject to name-calling and many kids laughed as he passed in the corridor at school, the snide remarks and jibes becoming an accepted part of daily life. For this reason, his time off was spent at home with his parents, though the boy was never known for his social skills, and rarely conversed with them for very long. He likes to think that he got on rather well with his brother, though keeping the six year age difference in mind, they were never inseparable. His loyalty to him, however, cannot be questioned. (not yet, anyway)
As time went on, in school he became less attentive, and any hopes that he'd find a Meister to work with dissolved along with it. Though instead of becoming less friendly and approachable, he retreated into his mind, in an attempt to find peace, a refuge from the real world. He would sit in his room for hours on end, simply sitting there, seemingly gazing into nothingness, thus his descent into madness began, sort of. Len would simply retreat deep into his mind when the stress of school life became too great, and pretended that it wasn’t happening.
He was later diagnosed with mild Dissociative identity disorder, aged eight, which explained his seemingly random violent outbursts, which lasted no longer than an hour at the most.

The next year at Shibusen was the first fully eventful year of his life, to be honest. He was eventually paired up with another underachiever for a Meister, and though nobody would admit it, the pair weren't expected to achieve very much. In was in his first partner that Len found a true friend, and despite their terrible grades, it was impossible to claim that they didn't make a great pair. Their wavelengths were almost entirely in sync with one another, and there wasn't a fighting technique out there that they couldn't master. Though, it was in the written exams that they suffered.

Against all odds, they actually managed to collect the 99 kishin eggs that were needed to make a Death Scythe, just like his father. Though, that was when the problem truly began. After three years' worth of work, they were so close. But his partner, and best friend, began to make her feelings for another weapon somewhat obvious, a young man about a year older than them. He seemed perfect, with his experience, good looks, and to top it all off, no "mental issues" as Len and his Meister had come to call it, as a joke. Though she seemed to have meant what she made a joke about, all the while he entrusted everything to her. When the time came for that final battle, the witch's soul mere inches away, she was distracted. In that crucial moment, the witch had seen her opportunity, and grasped it with an iron fist, claiming his right eye in the process. An unforgivable deed that he'd not forget in a hurry.

From that day onwards, they were completely out of sync. The once great pair, simply ruined, broken beyond repair. In an attempt to ignore his growing resentment for the girl, he insisted that they'd get through these times, that they'd regain what they'd lost. But she simply wasn't interested. She'd moved on, found a new partner, and Len was soon left on the wayside, scrabbling in the dust for something that simply wasn't there.

He took the rejection hard, unable to move on himself, and it was clear that nobody was interested in pairing with him. Though it was against his nature to deliberately harm another being, there was a side to him that was immune. And it was this merciless side that surfaced while at school, and became unable to ignore the jibes from his classmates, and the pitiful looks from the double-crosser from across the room.

He has yet to find another partner.
Roleplay Sample:

(This is a sample of mine that was taken from another site.)

Outside was saturated with cold. White plumes of expelled air rose up from the people huddled in fur coats, hands pushed deep into pockets, heads down against the wind that clawed frost across any exposed body part. In less than twenty steps Leonard had crossed the ice-slimy brick pavement and his manservant pushed open the oak doors to Burlington House, holding them open for the youth before carrying on. Despite being in his own home, the boy was again assailed by people. The chill that had attached itself to his skin and clothes evaporated and Leonard was instantly too hot, even as he was helped out of his mink overcoat.

He paused for a moment before striding towards the grand staircase, watching the staff rushing around him, running simple errands that he probably should have been able to complete by himself, but had absolutely no reason or desire to.

It was then that he noticed a fairly young girl, about his age; one of those that he felt that he should know, but could never remember her name. He watched in slight amusement as she passed, a feather duster in hand, who didn't seem to know that it was winter, what with her outfit of a fairly ill-fitting cotton dress,and almost spotless white apron. She looked rather cold, to say the least.

He quickly averted his gaze from her, as he realized that he was staring, and continued on his way, until she bashed into his shoulder with hers while, at the same time, her feather duster connected with his black leather loafer, in her haste to reach her destination. Like twin beacons of astonishment, an apology flashed up in her eyes. She said it too; breathed the single-syllable word between her plump, pink lips: "Sorry."

Leonard hadn't seen her lately, though she was exactly as he remembered her: her brown-black hair softly sculpted into mid-length peaks away from her face, and her skin retaining that beautiful, pearly white complexion. Her navy-blue eyes that could effortlessly unearth his deepest desires. Her mouth, his favorite part of her face, like firm marshmallows fashioned from a mould of Cupid's bow. His sea green eyes swept over her face again. She hadn't changed a bit.

"It is you, isn't it?" He asked when she spoke no further, her face a mask of uncertainty."The girl from Lewisham, from the..." His voice trailed off, avoiding the word, skirting around it like a pothole in the road. Pretending it wasn't there, as though living in a slum wasn't as bad, as devastating if you didn't utter the word.

She nodded, apparently unable to jumpstart her vocal chords. She moistened her lips, looking ready to attempt a reply, the imprint of shock still on her face. Though when she didn't speak, Leonard felt it necessary to continue, "I'm sorry, but I appear to have no recollection of your name, what with this short term memory of mine." He smiled in a way that he hoped was friendly, encouraging her to speak in that angelic, almost musical voice of hers.

[Shinigami]

Accepted. Great bio!