Zephyr Dalton

[Zephyr Dalton]

Settle down, it’ll all be clear

Full name: Zephyr Dalton
Nicknames: Zeph, Zev, Zed
Alias: n/a
Gender: Male
Age/Birthday: 26 / November 21st
Celebrity Claim: Alex Pettyfer

If you get lost you can always be found

Time Period: Modern
Appearance: Standing at about average height, one might believe him to be taller than he is at first glance due to his posture. As a security guard, Zephyr is used to making himself look bigger than he is, and often stands as such with his arms crossed over his chest out of habit. His hair is blonde but dark, and he keeps it in a tousled sort of style. His beard is trimmed slightly, and follows his jawline. Green eyes rest not far beneath a pair of thicker eyebrows, many times full of judgement or condescension, or if you're lucky, a bit of playful sarcasm. His body is lean and fit, as it must be if he's to do his job as an assassin. However, he very rarely shows it off, and as a consequence his skin is rather pale below his face. 

While at work he wears his uniform, which consists of a collared charcoal long-sleeve shirt with the word "Security" on the front and back in gold letters, a pair of black dress pants, a belt and boots. At his belt he carries his general gear like his radio, flashlight, pepper spray, a ring of keys and handcuffs. Even though the casino doesn't allow its guards to carry lethal weapons, Zephyr bends the rules by keeping his hidden blade under his sleeves and a knife tucked in his boots.

Outside of work, he can usually be found wearing dark colored bootcut jeans and hooded sweatshirts or just a plain shirt and a coat. Whatever he's wearing, it must be long enough to conceal his hidden blades, which he keeps on him practically twenty-four/seven. On missions, he doesn't wear anything other than his normal clothes, though the less conspicuous the better. On his left arm is a hidden blade similar to the ones used by the assassins in Ezio's time, and on his right he favors a hook-blade. A 9 mm hand gun is usually concealed on his person, along with a small variety of bootknives and throwing blades, and a few smoke bombs in his pocket. You know, just your normal every-day equipment.

Height: 5' 10''
Distinguishing Features: A bear paw print tattoo over the left side of his chest, the same as his ancestor, despite it being the mark of a historic Templar house. After coming to grips with the fact that his lineage originated from his enemies as well as reliving some of his ancestor's memories in the animus, Zephyr got the tattoo both out of mockery and pride. Mockery, in that a Templar house could sire such a strong-willed, determined and, dare he say, talented Assassin such as himself. Pride, in that his ancestor had actually started to grow on him, not that he would admit it. They were blood, after all. It was difficult not to relate to him.

Just know you’re not alone

Personality: When engaged in his assassination contracts, missions and research, Zephyr's focus borders on being predator-like. So much so, that it almost becomes creepy. His movements, actions, thoughts - everything becomes extremely methodical. Calculated. Cold. Intent. And when things don't go according to plan, he tends to blame others and remain in a sour mood afterwards, brooding and thinking over what could have been done differently. After all, a Templar that survives is a Templar that becomes educated, and will be that much more difficult to kill in their next attempt. In a situation where he is surprised or confronted, Zephyr is an "act first, ask questions later" kind of guy. Small talk with enemies is of no interest to him, unless it's the confessions they make with their last breaths. Those, he's discovered, can be quite interesting.

When he isn't so tightly wound up in his work with the Assassins, his demeanor becomes more at ease. Or at least, as at ease as a New York City boy can be. He likes watching a variety of sports and can even play a couple when he's in the mood, his favorite being soccer. The night life appeals greatly to him, given his profession as a security guard. Slightly arrogant and egotistical, Zephyr finds humor in people-watching and silently judging from a distance. On his nights off, that distance becomes shorter and he judges up close and visits his favorite clubs and bars, or an occasional concert. Always sober enough to find his way home, he leaves room for a drink to unwind with at the end of the day.

Fears:

• Being caught off guard by the Templars and captured
  
• Failure
  
• Juno
  

Goals:

• Stop Abstergo and Juno
  
• To always, always have a purpose
  
• Raise his rank as an Assassin
• Be able to retire peacefully someday, perhaps with a family
  

Likes:

• Sports
  
• His dog
  
• Cars
• Clubs
  
• The bleeding effect
• Being in charge
• Storms
  

Dislikes:

• Being out-done in competition
  
• Bad drivers
  
• Being late
  
• People who have no self control
• People who are up-tight
• Bad news stories (also Abstergo-censored news stories)
  

Strengths:

• Surveillance and research
  
• Patience
  
• Focus
• Clever
• Confident
  

Weaknesses:

• Arrogance
  
• Stubbornness
  
• Inability to let things go
  
• Denial about the mistakes he makes
• Blames other people
  

Talents:

• Marksmanship
  
• Somewhat bilingual (German)
  
• Martial Arts
• Social situations
  

Habits/Quirks:

• Often says "Are you frickin' kiddin' me?!" when in traffic or when struck with disbelief at other people's stupidity. Also frequently while watching sports television.
  
• Judging people
  
• Drinking one beverage before bed every night
• He's also left-handed. Not really a quirk, but didn't fit anywhere else.
  

Occupation: Assassin, and security guard at a local casino
Alliance: Assassin

Cause I’m gonna make this place your home.

History: Zephyr is the first born son of Elias and Grace Dalton, a family with an Assassin background in New York City, New York. Like his parents before him, his training into the Brotherhood began at a young age, though he wasn't fully aware of it at the time. His father always encouraged him to partake in sports, at times making it mandatory to go into programs such as karate and other forms of martial arts. His mother tried to teach him to think for himself, which she regretted at times. As she sought to teach him to question information and not to accept anything at face value, Zephyr began to form his own opinions and became analytical of nearly everything (and everyone). When he crossed the line, he was punished. But when he did well, he was fawned over. It wasn't until he was about twelve that they revealed to him the true purposes of what he was doing, and slowly taught him the ancient history behind their Creed.

As a brother, he turned out to be a bit of a bully in his preteen years. The eldest of the two boys, Zephyr was always the one to be put in charge, always given the task to protect and look after his sibling. It gave him a sense of authority which he reveled in. He loved telling his brother what to do and when to do so. He was older, stronger, and more advanced. These differences coupled with sibling rivalry only honed his competitive nature and augmented his ego. He liked to criticize his brother Zachary, liked to pick on him and hide his belongings. Maybe it was because Zephyr was jealous of him; being the baby, Zachary did seem to have special privileges, special attention, extra care. Or maybe it was because Zephyr really was just that much of a prat. In either case, the bullying and the bickering lessened as they grew older, and ended entirely one night as teenagers.

Zephyr nineteen, Zachary fifteen. Whether it was the stress of training, or just boys being boys, neither one of them could or cared to say afterwards. Left alone that night by their parents, Zephyr was put in charge of the house. Again. Frustrated and indignant about his mother and father disrupting his unmentioned plans for the evening, Zephyr decided enough was enough. He was an adult now, anyway. He could make his own decisions. So he passed off his duties to Zachary and snuck out, so sure that Zachary would behave himself as he always did and would be fine.

Well he was wrong. Zach followed. Zephyr used a fake ID to get into the club. How Zachary ever got in, Zeph never knew. They were assassins, after all. They were used to getting into places there weren’t meant to be. Drinking and dancing without his responsibilities to drag him down, Zephyr acted as he pleased. He talked up the ladies, bragged at the bar, and melded into the crowd he was so accustomed to. His brother watched intently, a stranger to it all, but a happy foreigner eager to test these new waters. Who gave the kid alcohol was a mystery. Who spiked his drink. Who robbed him blind.

It wasn’t until hours later, when Zephyr walked into the men’s bathroom, that he realized his brother had followed. Vomiting profusely into the toilet and grabbing onto the seat for dear life, the boys pockets were turned out. His wallet, phone, and pocket knife all gone. Zephyr did his best to care for his brother there, but eventually had to face the fact that Zachary need to be helped at home. Once there, he watched over him through the night and into the morning when his parents returned to find both boys asleep in their rooms, and not a speck of dust out of place. The brothers never spoke of the night since, nor picked on one another. In some strange way, their trust in each other’s silence had formed a bond.

Not long after that incident, Zephyr decided it was time for him to get his own place, his own life, his own routine. He moved into a somewhat nice apartment building and got a job as a security guard, which his father helped him line up. The job was at a casino. Frequented, of course, by Templars. If he was to have his own life, he would be pulling his own weight in the Brotherhood now, too. Zephyr loved it. It was all pretty low key, no one knew him there and he was free to act as ignorant to matters of world salvation and domination as he pleased. After all, what was one more lowly security kid to a bunch of rich, stuck-up, gambling Templars? Nothing, it would seem. Which was exactly what he wanted. Zephyr watched them from a far, made mental notes of which customers were civilians and which were his enemies, and committed their faces to memory. He quickly discovered who the regulars were, which groups to stay away from, and who was the most interesting to stand by. When assigned to watch the cameras, Zephyr reviewed clips of the Templars and monitored their movements.

As he progressed and received his raises and promotions through the next several years, his quality of living only continued to improve. He moved into a better apartment, one with a balcony and a view, and a pool in the building. He endured more advanced training, upgraded his weaponry and set his sights on furthering his career as an Assassin, which also came with its prices and privileges. For one, it meant a very lonely lifestyle. Not that it was incredibly difficult for Zephyr, he was already somewhat self-centered. But it forced him to abandon his notions of love and a family. Whenever he got serious with a girl and thought about asking her to move in with him, his concluding decision was to end the relationship entirely. He may have been selfish, but he wasn’t heartless. And bringing a girl into his kind of world just wouldn’t be fair. As he got older, he learned to keep his interests at arms-length, resolving only to enter into “flings” and not true relationships. Still though, it formed a hole in his life. So he filled it with a dog. A German Shepherd, whom he calls Ziva. Despite being a big moose, as he calls her, she is still young and learning and occupies much of his time, as all the best family members do.

In his work with the Brotherhood, Zephyr became more aware of what was really going on, and the severity of the notion of time. They were running out of it. Desmond had managed to help them dodge the solar flare, but at what cost? Now Juno is on the loose, and God only knows what she has planned for the world. In desperation to do what he can, Zeph spends his time searching through the memories of his Templar ancestor, Diego Liberatore, in hopes of finding something helpful. The trouble is, most of the memories aren’t accessible directly, and the animus continually kicks him back to a more stable state. Still determined to pry into his ancestor’s life, Zephyrs own adventure is just waiting to for him begin.

Mother: Grace Dalton
Father: Elias Dalton
Siblings: Zachary Dalton (younger brother by four years)
Significant other: n/a
Pets: A female German Shepherd named Ziva, whom he named after a character from his favorite television show.
Home: New York, New York

Behind the Scenes

Name/Alias: Lyndsey, though I go by my character names too. Rosa is what I go by on this site.
How long have you been in RP?: A little over 7 years
How did you find Cutting Corners?: I made it

Music credit -- Phillip Phillips - Home