Jensen, Payton "Zeus"

NAME:
Payton Tanner Jensen

AGE:
52, but appears to be ~30.

GENDER:
Male

NATIONALITY:
American

GOD:
Zeus

PICTURE:

Spoiler:

PERSONAL DETAILS

DESCRIPTION:
When Zeus enters a room, he turns heads and everyone stares at him slackjawed for what feels like an eternity. Why is it? He's not dashingly handsome. He's not horrifically scarred. There's nothing that springs to mind when you see the man in images - so what is the effect he has on people?

The answer? No-one quite knows, but Zeus commands a room like no other. Whilst Athena is the face of Typhon's PR campaigns, Zeus is one of the most convincing men alive. He stands easily around 6" 9' with a daunting frame that clearly factors in in his older son, (of ten minutes) Gabriel, but no so much in Maxim, the runt. He is slender, but his movements quick and fluid. And no matter what form he takes, no matter how young he gets, his hair and eye colours are one constant: both are a vibrant, striking, deep ocean blue, this colour change triggered like a shock-dye when Zeus first injected himself with the serum. The gene causing it is dominant and in a fixed strain of DNA Zeus cannot manipulate, but he's grown accustomed to the look.

Whatever form he takes, regardless of how he looks, how he works is far more integral. Zeus' voice is smooth one moment and hard and sharp the next. His tones are seductive and icy-cold simultaneously; he speaks and sends a shiver down your spine and a tingling across your chest. He commands an aura of respect, an aura of lust, and an aura of fear, altogether threefold. Zeus moves slowly, because he doesn't have to move for anyone, and everything - everything - he does is thought out to the point of impossibility.

PERSONALITY:
How does Zeus think? How do the very intricacies of his mind work from within?

That's an incredibly good question. And one many over the years have tried to answer. And one that many have failed to answer. Zeus is a complex man, to say the least. For starters, his obsession with chess is unreal. Every piece upon the board is his to tinker with; his are carved from finest diamond, and that pitiful Gaia's is crafted from wet paper and spittle. But Zeus is a humble man; he considers Gaia an obstacle and a threat. To underestimate them would spell doom for him.

Zeus is meticulous. He has always thought one step ahead, even when it seems he hasn't. He's impossible to one-up, because, every time, he will see you coming. A flash of light and he's there when he needs to be, and gone a moment later. To Typhon, Zeus is a ghost; a ghost haunting and controlling everyone and everything within on strings of his own that are impossibly tangled. He's a controller who the shareholders leave to his own devices, because at the end of the day, results come out as he wants them to be. IQ can't measure how powerfully he considers this and how well-spun this web of deceit and false loyalties he thrives upon is.

Zeus rarely raises his voice or hand against another; but don't mistake this for the fact that he doesn't wish to or isn't able to. He possesses more restraint in his body than you will ever see in your lifetime, yet in the end it was curiosity that spelt his unravelling in the form of a serum he couldn't ignore. The strength he possesses is raw and intense, and don't ever try to cross him to evoke it. By God, will you regret it.

To Zeus, everything is a challenge, a trial, a tribulation, a test of his abilities. Life is a game that he's playing with a strategy guide, walkthrough, and cheat sheet, but what menial difficulty it still presents he entertains himself with. It's frustrating that a man in charge of millions of people and responsible for a knock-on that would effect billions seems to be carefree and unable to take anything seriously, but, on the contrast, this is simply a facade. Zeus isn't as calm as he seems: he's very much determined to make one ideal a reality.

That ideal?

Typhon will rule the world.

HISTORY:
Typhon was established in 1946 contracted under the American military for five years by one Martin Jensen, Payton's father and Max and Gabriel's grandparents. 1946 was a good year for Typhon. Business was booming. With threats of World War 3 looming overhead since the moment Hitler had shot himself in that bunker in Berlin, every country in the world needed an insurance policy. And that insurance policy was Typhon.

For the most part, Typhon's operations were twofold. Military technology research and mercenary contractors to armies across the globe. By the dawn of the 60s, with the Cold War in full swing, Typhon was in some way involved with 75% of the world's uranium-based nuclear missiles, either in production or the actual extraction of the uranium itself. And what did Martin Jensen say? "75% isn't 100%." This methodism was passed down to his son, Payton, and, it would appear, his grandchildren, who seem to accept nothing less than the best, even when the best is a razed battlefield and a red-tinted horizon over post-apocalyptia.

Martin himself sat at his desk watching the events of the Cuban missile crisis before him as his wife, Maria, sat in the delivery room screaming for her husband. Why was he there, instead of by his loyal wife's side? Because, no matter what, it pays to watch over your investments. Oh how desperately he wished for nuclear war to break out, because demand would shoot up, and in the few years that he and his family would live, for that reason, he would be stinking rich.

Payton was born in October 1962. From the days of his childhood that he can recall, rapidly dwindling and vanishing as they are within the man's temperamental mind, Payton always grew up wanting to be like his father, Martin, and wishing to head off Typhon. And he got his will. The young boy grew up fast, and began his internship in 1979 under his father at the spry young age of 17. With an eye for science and ambition greater than his successor, it only took Payton five years to rise to the top as his father stepped down from the seat of company power at the age of 50, knowing that his pension was secured in his son's hands.

But in 1984 the Cold War still waged strong to the bitter end. From each side of the map he was being contracted to design all manner of new weaponry and military technology; until one day, a revelation hit him amidst a tour of the St. Petersburg biolab, the Hydra Station, an old Spetznas training facility. A speck of blood on the floor and thousands of incubated animals being tested upon. And at the head of it all, as the room was washed with yellow halogen lights, flickering and intermittent, was a single screen with an animated pattern of a single polypeptide forming part of a strand of DNA.

That was the moment that Zeus likes to claim the ideal for the Descendants Program glimmered like a light-bulb in his mind, raw and unrefined as it was, but over the next three years, things took shape. Ideas, experimentation videos, sample DNA... most labs wouldn't have been able to approve such an outlandish idea in twenty years; Typhon didn't need approval. Their samples were orphans. Urchins. People no-one wanted. Though the time came that the call for leaders of this cell of twenty-four were, children with guaranteed natural intelligence...

So Zeus put his own forth for candidacy. He and Maria Roland, the young daughter of a wealthy British scientist whom Typhon had also hired, had wed by 1986, and in 1988, she announced her pregnancy - with twins. As the plans for candidacy came up in the early 1990s, he took to her with the idea; and his same corrupt scientific morals and ideals had struck her like a bolt of venom, Zeus' tones far more convincing than any argument of logic. She was enthralled, and now a part of it all. She agreed happily.

The candidates had been chosen, and aside from the Payton brothers, were all prepared in a Typhon-endorsed orphanage attached to Tartarus. No expense was spared and the Children were lavished and given rigorous IQ testing, but before long, Gabriel and Maxim, Zeus' own flesh and blood, his ilk, were put in the pen and their names jotted down in that same cold ink. Now all that it took was the signing of a contract for the six men and women who were willing to do this. Konstantin Voronin, famed child soldier and ex-General bitter at the Cold War's end who saw the program as an opportunity to create more weapons for his cause. Ares. Beatrizza Castiglioni, a young Italian prodigy and the head of Typhon's PR department. Demeter. Solomon Galkin, a man with a hunger for knowledge far outweighing Payton's own. Hades. Nadine Jeanette, a young French woman with the ability to talk for hours and spin any man around her finger. Athena. His wife, Maria Jensen. Hera. And the mastermind at the head of it all. Payton Jensen. Zeus. Like Gods of olde, they would make the scientific developments to revolutionise these worlds and be heralded as masterminds posthumously in the next.

They resigned themselves to codenames in the same cold black ink their children had been so carelessly given letters like pigs in a pen. On New Year's Day, 1995, the collection of kids, none any older than 15, were hurried from the orphanage to the incubation room, a long row of test tubes filled with viscous blue liquid - their homes for the next twenty years save for training and mental checks on dull, sedated minds. They were all sedated, and with the most cruel and callous coldness resigned to the tanks. The Descendant Program had begun.

And for what? Zeus gave up his children. His life. His humanity. For what goal? The answer? For no goal but his own: to see Typhon grow larger than his father had ever imagined. It controls the world, now, yes, but that isn't enough; Payton seeks to see Typhon dominate the world, to enslave. He seeks to be the puppetmaster over all puppetmasters, and the one to hold a seat of power at the head of it all, to create a utopia of his own design, a playing field. Many had attempted it. Julius Caesar. Alexander the Great. Attila the Hun.

He would be the first to succeed.

When the Children broke out, Zeus flocked to the room with, for the first time anyone had ever seen it, seething anger and a deathly-white pallor. Shock upon his face. Even a man with no emotion can be brought to his knees by watching eighteen years of work go up in flames courtesy of a son he never bothered getting to know. All of the Originators, as they had long-since called themselves, stood tall and watched as they escaped Tartarus. And over the coming weeks, Zeus questioned his morals and ideals. Was what he was doing right? Was he stepping into God's domain? Was it fair to resign these children to their fate?

For some time he was split by indecision and self-hatred. And then delivered to his personal room upon commands he couldn't remember was a contingency. Six syringes thick with blue liquid, an enhanced and original variant of the serum they hadn't considered honed enough yet. Six syringes for six Originators. Six gods. They'd thought them too strong for the Children; but the six of them were powerful enough. So perhaps their prototypes had failed... then, they hadn't been willing to defile themselves and risk their lives for the sake of Typhon's continuity. But now, were they? Was he?

Yes.

The injection nearly killed him and the four others, and sent his wife spiralling into a comatose state where she could do naught but speak through her newfound telepathy after a few months passed. But as a trade-off? The powers they earned... they were grand. They were powers fit for conquerors such as they. And dividing each sector of the company and splitting them off to one another, as Hera lay in sleep in a room of white at Panacea's very tallest building, waiting for the kiss of a prince to awaken her from eternal slumber, Zeus vowed that he'd make this sacrifice worth every second she missed because of him.

ABILITY DETAILS

SKILLS/ABILITIES:
- Vastly intelligent, with an Originator-standard IQ of well over 250.
- Master strategist.
- Expert tactician.
- Able to pick up weaponry in a matter of moments and be using it fluently.
- Able to consider all angles in a plan.
- Not prohibited by petty morals.
- Can essentially conjure up random abilities, as useless or useful as they may be.
- Chessmaster ideals with a control over everyone.
- VERY driven.
- Exceptional levels of self-control and restraint.
- Hardly ever makes a wrong move.
- Incredible spatial awareness.
- 'Can see ten steps ahead'.
- Superhuman-calibre fitness and strength.

WEAKNESSES:
- Constantly in pain due to his body's consistent shifting.
- Unable to let anyone get close.
- Is slowly dying.
- Pain fluctuates, so it may spike when he needs it to the least.
- Power is sporadic and unpredictable and may well backfire when he needs it most.
- Egotistical and can't NOT think about Typhon.
- Never sleeps; his body's constant regenerating means he never loses bodily energy, and thus never needs to, but he can't feel 'rested'.

POWER:
Genokinesis :: Volatile DNA :: Unravelling the Helix - DNA is the base form of everything on this earth. DNA codes for genes. DNA codes for amino acids, which in turn construct proteins. Dig deep enough, at the root of anything organic, you will find DNA. And Payton Jensen can manipulate it.

The big limitation is that he can only actually modify his own, and that his DNA in itself is consistently shifting and changing in some spirals. Because of this, his body is continually shifting; creating tumours and cancers only to be cured a moment or two later. And, because of this, his body is continually pained. Zeus just does an incredible job of not showing it.

Alas, however, one of the coding structures has been set into reverse motion, and Zeus is actually aging backwards, which gives way to his 30-year-old appearance and blue hair, when in actuality he should be fifty-four and possess a head of black-grey hair. It's very strange, and considering the fact that the human genome itself is a very broad subject, a lot of what Zeus does is very much experimental and dangerous. So he tweaks gently, and spends a lot of his time researching.

However, considering the fact that the molecules of the serum he's injected himself with HAVE attached themselves to his DNA and bonded with him in irreversible ways, making minor tweaks here and there based upon some of the Children's DNA structures recorded before their break-out allows him to develop powers that he may keep from anywhere from ten minutes to ten days. His DNA is volatile, and still very much unexplored, but make no mistake: Zeus is a VERY powerful man, and with his ever-shifting body, despite his pain, and despite his losing days and reverse aging, he possesses regenerative abilities (based off of Foreman "Xerxes/Dutch" van de Bron) which allow him to recover from major wounds swiftly, and stop him from dying. He will regrow limbs, and decapitation won't even stop him, as if his head is collected and held in place upon the stump, it will reconnect and the tissue will kick back in. Decapitation will simply hold both his head and body in stasis until they're returned to each other.

LANGUAGES SPOKEN:
Fluent in English, Spanish, Arabic, Italian, French, Portuguese and Afrikaans.

USER DETAILS

ALIAS:
Ross

OTHER CHARACTERS:
Maxim Jensen, and Thaddeus van Wolfe.

FACECLAIM:

Code:

[b]TRIGUN[/b] – [i]legato bluesummers[/i]

CUSTOM RANK:
- UNRAVELING CHESSMASTER

Archive date is the 3rd.

APPROVED

The king is alive, long live the king!!