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Old February 23rd, 2013 (11:12 AM). Edited February 26th, 2013 by Lokiepie.
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Lokiepie Lokiepie is offline
Join Date: Dec 2012
Location: UK, North West
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Nature: Quirky
Posts: 300
here's my SU :

Name: Hazel Swan

Age: 18

Gender: Female

When seeing this young girl, one would think from her size alone, that is not over the age of 15, her head coming to most people’s shoulders of the same age. She is 5’1 and has a rather plump curvy frame to go with, but is no stranger to hard work.

Often enough, her small frame is draped in the cream embrace of a thick clothed cloak which her grandmother gave to her many years ago before she passed in her sleep. Her grandmother had made it large so that, with time, the young child whom sat on her knee, would grow into it. However, he hopes for a tall willowy feature was cut short, quite literally. Under these delious folds of ivory, Hazel wears a rather baggy, white long-sleeved shirt which is tied around her waist with a thick emerald coloured ribbon. . At her hip, several leather straps cut across her body, holding various pouches filled with random finds and treasure the girl has taken a shine too. Covering her legs, she wears a pair of leggings, a short black skirt and a large pair of clunky brown boots, which are fastened with multiple straps criss-crossing their surface.

Hazel’s face is oval shaped and pale in colouration. She has gentle tones of red colour her cheeks and lips in splashes of colour, while honey brown eyes stare out from a black frame of long eye lashes. Her nose is small and round, with a few stubborn, cinnamon freckles dotting it’s bridge.

Hazel’s hair is chestnut brown, with coloured hits of red and golds which mingle with one another in the elegant ringlets which knot around in each other. Hazel, of course, hates her hair but leaves it down as she’s not one to fiddle with looks or hair dos.

Hazel has always been a happy go lucky type of girl. She tries to see the best in everyone, even if they have tied her up and put her in a base somewhere, she’ll find something nice to say about the person, no matter how physco he is. But though this can be seen as a good thing, it is also her greatest weakness. She is too forgiving and too open to others that it often leads to her being tricked, hurt and used. But don’t let this side of her fool you, if you have insulted one of her friends or even hurt them and made them cry, Hazel will step up to the platform and fight for her friend.
Hazel is usually found with her nose in a book and has always been somewhat a daydreamer whom is overly in love with the idea of romance and true love. she likes to see herself as a matchmaker in some cases but has never looked to herself, as where she’s concerned she doesn’t think she has much of a chance after Jake from school.

She is a hard worker though and isn’t afraid to lend a helping when it is needed and is no stranger to mud, though it’s not exactly her most favourite thing in the world.

When a problem arises, though she is at times one who thinks too much, she tends to not think when action is needed. Like a flipped sided coin. She either thinks too much or thinks too little and both come with a price.


Hazel had pretty much lead a perfectly ordinary life. Her family was never poor, but never tasted the grandness of being rich either. Yet regardless they made enough to keep them going when times were bad by running a herbal medicine shop down a back ally in her home town.

Up until the age of 13, Hazel had never took much interest in her parents working due to lack of time. She had lumbered with the responsibility to take care of her younger brother when she was 6, Her parents time being consumed with keeping the shop a flout. However, as her brother grew and became more independent, Hazel’s responsibilities shifted to working in the shop and helping gather herbs during travels.

At first she had loved working behind the counter, seeing it as a game filled with neat parcels wrapped with string and pleasantries being exchanged between strangers but nothing more. But it wasn’t long till this rose tinted view of her parents work came crashing down around her.

It had been little under a year since she had taken to working behind the counter, when a man came stumbling in through the doors, a small mewing Vulpix wrapped up his arm. He pressed this small creature to his chest so harshly at first that Hazel thought he was going to kill the poor thing, yet when he rushed the counter and lay the Pokémon in front of her, demanding she treat the poor animal, the young girl realised why. The pressure he had been pressing onto the Pokémon’s small form was due to a large gash which ran along the Pokémon’s side, oozing crimson blood and matting the surrounding fur: Spreading through its silk like strands like spilt wine on a cotton cloth.

Hazel still remembers to this day, the man almost screaming at her to do something, but she was paralysed. She had watched her parents work on injured Pokémon before, but never seen injuries like this. There was so much blood and the strangled cries of pain from the small pokemon in front of her almost made her vomit.

The acrid taste had filled her mouth and made her head reel, as she simply stared at the Pokémon infront of her. Hands cold and skin covered in a thin layer of sweat.

Luckily her older brother, Rika, had heard the commotion from the back of the shop and ran in to save the day, sweeping his poorly trained sister to the side without a word, nor glance.

The Vulpix went onto to live, though only just.

After things had died down and their parents returned, it was revealed that the once screaming man had found the pokemon on the side of the road, beaten to within an inch of it’s life, it’s previous trainer abandoning it to its fate after a failed training attempt.

After that day Hazel threw herself into her studies, focusing on alchemy in the academy and often shying away from battle, the image of the tiny vulpix always filling her head whenever she stepped forward for a test.

Yet regardless, the girl went on to be well balanced. Surrounding herself with friends in school came easily and she spent many hours sat under her group’s tree in one of the courtyards exchanging girly gossip and jokes with her friends. Academically, she fared well, acing most of her of classes, bar the ones which focused on fighting. Though she didn’t fail, knowing that at times, fighting was necessary.

Half way through her training however, her brother left home to begin traveling the country in search of new herbs and remedy’s which he might bring back one day. It was a sad goodbye for her parents and younger brother, but little was exchanged between herself and Rika. They had not spoken, barely swapping a few glances since the day of the Vulpix.

Starter Pokemon:
Species: Espeon
Moves: Psychic, Sand-Attack, Shadow ball, Bite
Pokemon Gender: Male

RP Sample:
Pokemon trainer academy:

Evie set her soft gaze to Jay’s huddled form with pity pooling in her eyes. Watching in silence as his Pokémon busied themselves about their master, she toyed with a lock of hair as she listened to the grief ridden voice of Jay emanate from somewhere beneath his entangled arms.

Bending down she swept up her bag from the golden sands at her feet and brushed off the tan coloured canvas fabric with a few gentle strokes before redirecting her eyes back to her friend. For a few sparse moments, she pondered. She had felt the dangers of battling such a young competitor but she had not expected to see anyone react in such away. So in terms of logic this reaction was more deep rooted than one had first suspected. At this conclusion a new trail of thought span into existence. If that was indeed true, should she probe into the personal matters of her new acquaintance or would he find it to be an invasion of his privacy?

Going with the latter of these options, Evie climbed up onto the neighbouring rock and settled on it’s rough warm surface, while Leka down below rested on the sand, amber gaze set steadily on the boy.

“It was brave of you to speak up like that Jay.” Evie said, speaking quiet tones. “Not many would do that. You should be proud.” She smiled at this, tucking her tangled lock behind one ear before refocusing on her company. “Orange will understand, so hush now. No more tears.” Her voiced purred a low and comforting tone, a technique shown to her by her uncle to calm down a Pokémon whenever in distress. True, at this particular moment she wasn’t trying to calm down an upset miltank but it was the only thing she had.

(my replacement while a new sig is made )

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