played by Intereo Liberi

Nickname: He doesn't really mind. Zad doesn't offend him one bit.
Alias: Aidan Byron Agamemnon Willowtree IV.
Gender: Male.
Age: 23.
Birth Date: In the unlikely event anyone should ask, he will tell him or her that his birthday is that day. That way, most can mentally justify his ecstatic demeanour and he avoids the more troublesome questions.
Birthplace: Ah, those wonderful mysteries of the universe...
Blood Type: O
Family: ::coughs:: Well... just God, really - though they've not been close until recently, since God's madness had become progressively worse. He tries to get closer to the Seers, but they... "Don't really appreciate his sense of humour". For starters.
Hair: Pure, shimmering silver, just beyond his waist. A few strands frame his face, but they can hardly be called bangs of any sort. It tends to grab a lot of attention, especially with kids.
Eyes: A very bright, strong amber.
Body: The man simply screams of androgynous good looks, in a body that doesn't suit his personality at all. He's long, and lanky, incredibly weak, and very, very tall -- at just under 6'8", it's a wonder they don't have him taking pictures of outer space. He's not much for blending in, and that's the way he likes it.
Marks: Tiny, permanent scars from his lengthy existence, but nothing so fascinating as to make it ogle-worthy.
Clothing: His clothing tends to be very slightly... eccentric. He'll think nothing of wearing a huge velvet coat over three layers of silk shirts, and a matching hat with a flower in it. His only major trends are very strong, complimentary colours on very soft, expensive fabric.
Most Prized Possession: His voice; When he's alone he talks to himself, and he's very proud of the silly sounds he makes.
Hobbies: Making up riddles, and reading books. He adores Alice in Wonderland, and has one of the first copies with him constantly.
Occupation: Zadkiel wants to be an entertainer; the thought of getting on stage and making people laugh, or listen, or think, or simply enjoy his presence brings him a pleasant thrill. But he's not an entertainer, with the exception of Kareoke club visits. He has no real occupation, always drifting between jobs, none of which suit him at all - a jack of all trades.
Food: Sickeningly sweet foods - sugar, candyfloss, chocolate... All the things that, in abundance, most people would find utterly repulsive.
Fears: Salarymen, and people with long nails.
Goals: World cleansing, of course! He also wants to spank a camel someday, but that's a whole different story...
Positive Characteristics: Bubbly and friendly to everyone he meets. He's always very polite, and kind - when people find it worth their time to insult him, or treat him cruelly, they soon find that he is phased by practically nothing.
Negative Characteristics: Can be a tiny bit cruel. Very deceptive at his roots, although he rarely ever sets out to hurt anyone, unless he has a very good reason.
Personality: Zadkiel doesn't really have the personality one would expect from a Seer - though he tends to keep to himself, others flock to him, and he humours them freely. He's offbeat, quirky, and bursting with silliness. If one didn't know of his past acts of cruelty, he would seem like a perfectly happy - if a little crazy - fellow. The whole angelic situation he treats as a game - what's more, a simple game. He's so laid back about it that it's surreal.
Deception is child's play for him. Through encouragement and half-truths, he easily draws all to his way of thinking, and they believe him faithfully. He treats them like loved and loyal companions, where most would see tools. It is for this reason he is rather more fond of his mazikeen than most seers.
He's not fond of humans, but buries such feelings; crawling a human infested world, it doesn't help anything to get angry.
He is an overly polite, well-mannered person, most of the time. But there is a part of him that will always make him childlike in his nature, and it is a habit that is endearing only for so long.
Past Ė For such a colourful fellow, Zadkiel has a positively dull history. Heaven isnít partial to Jesters, and he visited as infrequently as is physically possible, back in Godís saner days. Earth eventually became a constant reminder of Godís growing madness, and while he found an insane God a far more enjoyable person to be with, he grudgingly agreed to help in waking the Fallen, hoping he could gain a little gratitude in the process.
Present - The longer people live, the more bitter they get, and the more attentive they are to their surroundings. In a way, Zadkiel has lost the naÔve edge of his humour, and although the silliness reigns, there's a bitter side to him. He's glad that the search is finally coming to an end -- and he's all too eager to fish out his Fallen and get her to her feet. Zadkiel fully intends to be on earth during the True Final Battle.
Sick of life as he is, he wants to die.
Writing Sample:
Obsidian Clouds consumed the sky, rain drizzling faintly over the landscape of Tokyo. Pleasant weather to have at that time of year, making even the coldest buildings beautiful.
Not so good for the humans that rambled through the area so freely, but Aidan was lucky enough to have his umbrella with him -- pink and fuzzy though it was, it managed to keep *most* of the rain away.
Hand in hand with him, a young girl walked.
She couldn't be any more than four or five, physically -- though, she lacked the chubbiness of a child that age, and her eyes spoke of limitless years. She looked miserable, tired, and muddy, and she probably had headlice.
She pulled the huge black scarf over her nose, sneezing delicately.
Aidan glanced at her, warily. "Oak?"
Oak sneezed again, wiping her runny nose on a black sleeve. "'m fine."
Aidan stared a moment, before scooping her up with his arm; she sat on his shoulder, one hand wrapped around the side of his head for support.
Aidan balanced the umbrella in his grasp, unfurling the map with the fingers he could pull free. He glanced down at the symbols and squares, thoughtfully. "Hotel... hotelhotelhotel...
"HAH!" He pointed at the miniscule symbol, smiling happily. "There's one!"
Oak looked down at the map curiously, little legs kicking in the air. "Where are we?"
The silver-haired man froze, and then frowned, tapping a finger on his chin.
"I... uhm..." his shoulders drooped. "Oh."
"Pass it up here." Oak said, bending down to grab the map. "And look out for road signs; I'll find us."
Aidan brought a hand to his forehead woozily, dripping melodrama. He soon was dripping literally, for the hand that moved was holding the umbrella away from the pair.
"Oh, Oak! We are lost! Lost forever! I never thought it would be possible to lose oneself, but I certainly can't find me! Oh, Oak! We're doomed to wonder this metal metropolis until our little lives wear thin, our remains scattered to--"
"Sah," Oak handed him the map with one hand, the other hand slipping a red marker back into her abundant coat pocket. On the map sat a little crimson cross. "We're there. Three blocks away from the hotel."
"... Oh." Aidan smiled triumphantly. "... Off we go, then!"
And he started walking, vigour renewed.
"The other way, Sah."
"... Oh. Okay then!"