Age: 21
Height:6'3
Weight: 201lbs
Sex: Male
Personality: Zarx's personality is one that is...set aside, different than most. His fades his emotions out to the dark corners of his mind during battle as to not to leave room for errors or careless mistakes. His trusts lies in no one but himself, but if you gain it consider yourself the luckiest person alive to have it.
Home World: Sairok Desert
Likes: A Challenge
Dislikes: Quitters
Friends: None
Enemies: Everyone
Party: none as of now.
Appearance:
Zarx wields twin gunblades, each are six shots, and can be loaded with various types of shells.
Class: Gun-Keyblade Wielder
Path of Life: To find out why he's here.
Road: Dark
Weapon: Extended Gun-KeyBlade
Magic: None
Abilities:
Deserted Sun - An escape tactic used by the user to create an image of the desert sun in the opponents mind, which multiplies the blinding rays of the sun by ten. Thus giving the user to escape a sticky situation.
Bio: The last thing Zarx could remember was the noise of a deathly train, known as the Doom Train. This was the last thing he remembered before he blacked-out. A daze that struck him for 2 years. and When he came to, he awoke from this deep sleep on a cold midnight in the middle of a dry desolate wasteland, no other than Sairok Desert. Zarx didn't know why he was here, how he got here, or much his past. He only knew survival, his name, and finally trust...which was privileged only to himself. And then a voice spoke to him as he float in a world of subconsciousness and the voice said "Those who wield the keyblades, those are the ones who stripped your mind, and left you here blind and thoughtless." Zarx walked for hours, days, weeks, months...forever it seemed. Until one scorching afternoon he found himself upon this small desert town thriving with trade and commerce. This was Roughshot, and his new home. Zarx became familiar with the ways of trade and soon was a master of it. He also picked up the art of stealing, which was needed for his survival. After many years of dwelling in Roughshot Kilroy had made a name, but none new his identity. He was one of the two holders of the black market. Knowing all the ins and outs of trade and economic deception. Zarx soon became know as Two and his partnership of the black market was shared with One. They went by these names, and wore mask with the numbers 1 and 2 on face plates, this was to keep the owner from being assassinated hence the wealth involved in the ownerships.
History: This part if Zarx's shrouded history was erased from his biography, like an empty space, nothing within nothing. Zarx goes by many names, KOB, Number 2, Desert Scorpion, thief, bandit, assassin, all the way to common street scum...the list goes on and on. Each name takes the character of a different man, non the same as the last or the next. The two names which have no identity, are Zarx and KOB. Zarx found himself stranded in Sairok as a mere child, taken in by a band of thieves, call them what you want bandits, dogs, scum, these outcasts were his family the only people her ever laid trust within. The number one rule of these thieves is that work in the eyes of a thief is best done alone, meaning that each mission or quest you took on from you higher ups was to be done alone no additives, no help from fellow thieves or anyone for that matter. Zarx took this phrase to heart, and was buried in it, this was the one thing Zarx lived by. They trained him in the arts of assassination, combat, stealth, and most of all theft; whether it be a life, reputation, gold, objects, or even a name. After years of training, countless missions, and endless questing Zarx was reached the top of the food chain within the band of thieves. With that phrase still burning and embedded into his heart...he acted on it. Zarx began stealing from his fellow thieves and planting their possessions among one another causing them to kill each other off slowly, he disguised himself as one of his own and killed more of his own, then the thieves would kill the one he was disguised, he stole their names, their possessions, their gold, their lives, slowly killing until all the bandits were erased from existence. In doing this he stole their reputation as well. He had taken every aspect, every drop of backstabbing knowledge, and turned it against them. They had given him everything and he had taken everything from them...including their lives. The only people he trusted were now sleeping an eternity, deep within their shallow graves. He still wears the Band of Thieves proudly, around his waist that is with this a new name was born know as KOB, the one true King of Bandits
