Zexion was a closet. He was relatively small and of very little consequence and could be ignored fairly easily. He was full of various odds and ends, things collected over the years, an assortment of mostly useless information and abilities and natural talents, all just waiting to be pulled out, dusted off, and exploited to his benefit.
Zexion was standardized-white-painted walls and deep, dark blue carpeting (fatally deep, treacherously dark; watch out, just watch...) and a shadowed ceiling.
Zexion was a locked door, was a broken lamp, was perpetually shaded in grays and blacks and blues, was clutteredcrammedfull and openemptygone.