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THIS IS MY SU FOR THE RP! FINALLY DONE AND JUST BARELY MADE THE DEADLINE! :D
Name: Tycho Landerson
Age: 27 years old.
Gender: Male.
Hometown: Tarzel, Zubekeus Desert, Lysos.
Appearance:
Spoiler:
Tycho stands at around 5'9" tall. Should he straighten up entirely, an inch or two would be added to this, as his regular posture is very bent over. His back is slightly crooked, he has a limp as his left knee is busted and generally, judging by the condition of his body, you would not guess him to be only 27 years of age.
His skin is somewhat pale because whilst he enjoys the warmth of the sun, Tycho tends to stick to the comforting coolness of the shade. His brown hair is short and always in a messy state, pointing in every direction or simply just untidy. He has a bit of scruff, though nothing near a proper beard. Most of it is gathered on his chin. His eye is a pale tint of green.
He usually wears a long, worn leather coat that reaches all the way down to his feet and underneath it he wears a brown linen shirt with a tall collar to protect his neck from the cold. His trousers are made of bright cloth, the right leg green, the left leg yellow - mostly for the fun of it and to add a little colour to his person. These bewitching garments are not on full display, however, as he wears thin steel plating strapped to each of his legs, covering the front as a protective means for his poor knee. He also struts around in fine, dark brown, leather shoes, as he is a man with, despite all, some appreciation for the finer things.
As for accessories he wears a glove made of blackened hide and tanned leather on his left hand, extending to a wrist guard made from similar materials and an eye patch covers his left eye (or what's left of it) - all to conceal different scars. Strapped around his waist and torso Tycho has numerous utility belts in which he keeps most of his different pouches and vials, and upon his back he carries a spacious backpack for some of his heavier equipment (though this particular item is more often than not his Pokémon's burden).
Weapon/Fighting-Style:
- Due to his bad leg, Tycho more often than not supports himself to his walking stick, which he can use as a primitive means of defense, if forced into psychical struggles.
(Seen in the character picture)
- Should he get into an especially dire situation, he carries a hand-scythe in his belt which is normally used for the gathering of various herbs, but can be used as a close-quarter blade.
Picture here: https://scytheworks.ca/img/catalogue/s04.jpg
- When it comes to Tycho's main "weapons", he carries with him at all time a rather varied arsenal of brews and mixtures, potions and powders, oils and the likes in small pouches and vials, attached to his number of belts and straps.
Thanks to his own wit and skill, he has managed to procure the know-how to gather for and conjure a vast number of utilities through the art of alchemy.
To effectively use these different assets, Tycho has adapted the skill to hurl these and other objects with impressive precision at great distances. (more of this in the skill-section)
Amongst his collection are some of the following mixtures.
(Not necessarily all of them at the same time. This depends of recent usage and his current stock of ingredients):
Spoiler:
- Poison Powder:
A pouch holding different plants of poisonous sorts, dried and grinded to powder to cause extreme irritation and/or inflammation of the skin upon contact - Hardly harmful unless inhaled in large doses.
Inspired by: https://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Poison_Powder_(move)
- Stun Spores:
A pouch which contains spores from actual grass or bug Pokémon. These will very briefly paralyze the nerves of the body part it touches. For instance, touching it with your hand will only paralyze you from around the elbow and down. The potency also varies greatly depending on the freshness of the samples. To prolong the effectiveness of these, the spores are packed alongside fresh flowers. These spores are rare to come by, so they are not often among Tycho's tricks.
Inspired by: https://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Stun_Spore_(move)
- Toxic:
These small vials hold a thick, dark, deep purple liquid. This is highly poisonous, more so than the aforementioned powder, but it is also much harder to procure - how is not something he fancies to elaborate. The longer it touches its host, the more violently the poisoning will become.
Inspired by: https://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Toxic_(move)
- Acid:
These vials contain thin, bright and colourful liquids. Unlike toxic, which is mostly effective against things of flesh and blood, acid works its way through rock and steel at a reasonable pase. Tycho makes this by forcing several chemical reactions with heating/cooling in his lab, using amongst other ingredients: salt, water and a few grinded herbs.
Inspired by: https://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Acid_(move)
- Smoke bomb:
Small curled-up packs, wrapped in paper, with a short fuse immerging from the top of it. These are excellent for making a narrow escape, as when lit, a thick dark smoke burst from the hole by the fuse. Dry hay, dark brown or white sugar, salt and other minor adjustments to the recipe do wonders in terms of cloaking those within the cloud.
Inspired by: https://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Smokescreen_(move)
- Flash-bang grenade:
By adding a short fuse to a pack of black powder you have a very effective tool for blinding people and Pokémon alike. The powder is wrapped in paper so that that the pressure build up inside the pack is easily released and the paper burnt through. The fast ignition and burn of the powder causes a bright flash.
Inspired by: https://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Flash_(move)
- Grenade:
Much like the flash-bang grenade, this is made with black powder, a fuse and is packed up. The difference here is that while the flash-bang is supposed to -not- build up pressure, this is designed to do the contrary. Made from a variety of containers, all serve the same purpose of compressing the ignition until the pressure bursts the surface and slings shrapnel of whatever in every direction.
Inspired by: https://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Explosion_(move)
Disclaimer:
Mind you that all of these are only replicas of, or simply inspired by, Pokémon moves. None contain the same amount of force as their source of inspiration, nor do they hold the enhancement of power that is Mana. Their effects are therefore not as great as they would have otherwise been, if they were spells thrown by a Pokémon or an Entwined.
Besides the offensive mixtures, he can also cook up some weak potions, antidotes and such, but again, none with stunning results.
Skills/Magic:
- Fling (core ability)
Due to Tycho's arsenal, it is a vital skill to be able to hit things from afar. For that purpose he has developed the ability to throw objects, for example vials, at long distances with great accuracy, which is particularly impressive considering his lack of depth perception. https://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Fling_(move)
- Trick
Trick is a spell that allows Tycho to deceive others in various ways.
One way is to create an elusive shroud around himself or objects, causing him/it to appear as something/someone else for a very short amount of time.
For instance; he can take the form of another Pokémon's Entwined partner to confuse it, or make a boulder out to be himself, standing defenseless to assailants, to cause distraction. The more extensive the illusion, the larger the mana-drain. https://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Trick_(move)
- Calm mind
This spell is rather self-explanatory. It can be utilized to calm wild Pokémon or enraged street thugs, though the reason for this being one of Tycho's favorite skills is to soothe his own Pokémon if the need arises. Because although it is usually already very calm, there are a few things that might cause an emotional reaction that is otherwise hard to deal with. The mana-drain of this skill increases depending on how angry/strong the mind is. https://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Calm_Mind_(move)
- Ominous wind
As offensive as it is defensive, this spell summons a series of shadowy wind-bursts in an extensive area. While the ghostly gusts deal shadow damage to those within it, it also makes for excellent concealment as most of the natural light is blocked out by shadows. The area of the effect can be further increased and the effect itself can be prolonged/empowered at a higher mana-cost. https://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Ominous_Wind_(move)
Personality:
To Tycho, discovery means the world. Curious about how everything works and what we can learn from it - it is almost more of an obsession of his than an interest. To him, anything new is exciting and he will rarely hesitate before treading an unmarked path. He is very bright minded and does not think twice about letting it show. He enjoys being on his own, the silence to allow the processing of data into thoughts and further into realizing those ideas, but he is not anti-social in any way. He gets easily excited when someone else shows interest in his work, as he is not used to receiving much praise or recognition, and he is also very stubborn in defending his ideals. Not to the extent where he deliberately engages in conflicts, but a cocky remark from him might still get him in trouble now and again.
Occupation:
Tycho is primarily a travelling alchemist, selling his services to those prepared to pay for them. He gathers herbs during the day, carefully logging his findings in his journal. During the evening and sometimes well into the night, he experiments in his portable lab, using whatever he has gathered throughout the day.
Besides that he has a knack for curing different wounds and infections. Not through traditional medicine, but rather applying his own salves and mixtures. It may require a few attempts, though… Yes, that rash is a perfectly natural reaction.
History:
Spoiler:
Originally Tycho hails from the village Tarzel in Lysos - a gathering of a few dozen small houses made from carved sandstone blocks. It lies on the eastern side of the grand oasis and relatively close to Kakkara, considering the massive scale of the Zubekeus desert. However, Tarzel does not prosper from the fertility that the oasis brings its proximity. There is at least a couple of miles to the nearest vegetation and the residents are often reliant on intercepting traders coming to and from the capital who are willing to part with some of their supplies in exchange for minerals and lesser gems.
Tycho, being the curious sort, was never content with the lack of variety of life in the desert. What really appealed to him were plants - an interest not shared by anyone else in the village. Whenever he was not assigned prospecting or mining duties, he would head west, spending hours on end searching for things that bloom. Flowers, grass, bushes and trees with actual leaves on them, in short: all that was green or otherwise colourful. It all seemed to make up for the dullness that is the eternally brown desert. This was a lonely hobby. Not even a Pokémon kept him company, as when he was brought to the Entwining-ritual at the age of ten, no egg hatched by his touch. As he grew older, he began to practice the usage of said plants and herbs, though not with the support of his family and neighbours as they would prefer to leave the alchemy to the "professionals" in the capital.
Another keen interest of his was to go look for old artifacts in the ancient ruins deep in the desert wasteland which could be used to bargain with traders. One time at the age of 19, whilst following an old map he had bought off a drunk, the scavenging took him far from home - more than a day's journey through harsh terrain. Upon arriving at the marked spot he found the entrance to an underground tomb, partially concealed by piles of sand. He dug through, slid open the lid and went down. To his surprise, the room was mostly empty. No burial-site, no gold. The only thing in the room was a small golem-like figure, standing in the center.
Upon further inspection this craftsmanship seemed very old, possibly even pre-dating The Abandonment. Curiosity got the best of him and when Tycho reached out to touch the creation something happened. A bright spark burst from his fingertips and disappeared into the golem. After a moment of complete silence, the tomb began to vibrate violently and the sound of collapsing stone filled the room. Seconds later it was all over, and Tycho looked back over his shoulder only to confirm his worst fear - the entrance had caved in and was now blocked, only a few rays of light streaming in through the holes. In a fit of panic, Tycho tried to move the boulders, but his strength was utterly insufficient.
When he turned to the room in search for an alternative exit, he leapt back in fear. The golem had moved from its original spot and now stood two feet in front of Tycho with its head slightly tilted to the left, as if inspecting him. In a state of equal measures of amazement and shock, Tycho once again reached down for the golem, this time touching it on the top of the head. The little creature responded with a shiver of delight, the only sound from it being its stone-joints grinding against each other. Then, assumingly out of curiosity aswell, it reached out for Tycho, wrapped its fingers around his knee and squeezed lightly. Unfamiliar with the human squishiness it unintentionally shattered several bones.
Tycho screamed out in pain and held his knee as he fell sideways onto the hard ground. The golem quickly let go and staggered backwards with its palms extended in front of it. After a few moments of groaning, Tycho looked back up. The small figure had sat down beside him with slightly spread legs, shamefully hanging its head. It sometimes looked up at Tycho but averted its eyes again upon eye-contact. "Great… now I'll never get out", Tycho muttered while trying to calm his breath. The golem stood up almost instantaneously after hearing those words. It nodded once and then went towards the rocks blocking the entrance, one by one lifting them out of the way, breaking down those too big to lift with series of simple but powerful punches and thus very slowly clearing a path. Tycho was in awe but could not afford to delay. He had to stop the bleeding from his injury and prevent infection. Luckily he always carried bandages and a few herbs, which he could use.
Hour after hour the golem worked its way through the boulders and Tycho managed to improvise a temporary but sufficient treatment for his knee. By the time the path was cleared, however, the sun had long since set, and the cold of the desert at night-time is not something to be underestimated. He decided to wait until the break of dawn before trying for home. He gathered some rubble on the ground to use as a pillow and lay down. To his surprise, the golem did not leave either. It looked from Tycho to the path out and back before it came over and lay down next to him.
The next morning presented another huge challenge. Tycho and his new companion, whom he had decided to call Gregory, went up through the tomb and out into the desert. While Tycho's knee made it difficult to traverse the loose sand, he used a dry branch from a dead tree as an improvised cane. Greg also did its best to support Tycho and eventually Tarzel appeared before them in the distance.
After having returned to his home and his family, Tycho rested. He told the others about his accident in the tomb and about Greg, who at first did not want to enter the village, as all the strange new people seemed to frighten it. Eventually it was convinced to join them and an old historian from the village examined it. He determined that the golem appeared to be a Pokémon, a so called Golett. They were ancient and man-made and supposedly possessed by ghosts, which is what would bring them to "life". Judging from Tycho's story about the spark and the activation, he deduced that it sounded a remarkable lot like an Entwining. But at such an old age? As far as they were all concerned that was unheard of until now. But that had to be the only explanation.
After a few weeks Tycho was back on his feet and though he never fully recovered from his injury, he was once more able to walk around relatively unhindered, but mostly stuck to the cane to ease the strain on his knee. Greg was quickly growing popular within the village and things were going pretty well. But something had ignited within Tycho when he and his companion were entwined. His interest for discoveries that had previously been somewhat of a hobby had inflated to a need; a burning desire to see the world and everything it had to offer - big and small. One day, he packed his most valuable belongings in two backpacks and strapped one on the back of Greg, the other he slung over his own shoulder. He said his goodbyes to his family and neighbours and without further ado they left and headed west, first to see the capital and then, who knew.
Pokémon Personality:
Gregory is a childish spirit embedded in an ancient figure, always kind to those around it. It means no ill will towards anyone without very good reason to but is still not inclined to approach someone unfamiliar either. Much like its entwined companion Tycho, Greg is incredibly curious. Sometimes when Tycho needs Greg's help for a project, he will not be able to find it because it has wandered off to inspect something that awoke its interest. Greg never speaks a word, and to the extent of Tycho's knowledge, never has. The only sounds coming from it is the grinding of stone from when it moves around and, on occasion, an indistinct humming noise, like the sound still hanging in the air long after a bell has been struck.
It is playful much like a child and really likes other Pokémon, but it enjoys Tycho's company above all. More often than not, when Tycho tinkers in his lab, Greg will merely observe quietly with the focus of a scholar. Other times it might reach out and touch the components, causing the sensitive experiment to fail. In that regard Greg reminds Tycho much of himself as a kid - the urge to touch, to feel, to walk through trial and error on the road to feel the kick of the eureka-sensation that makes it all worth the trouble.
Tycho and Gregory have developed some kind of father-son bond, but it is not easy to tell who is what as they are both equally protective of each other - Tycho shielding Greg's emotional child-like mind from sadness and fear while Greg aids Tycho in physical endeavours to spare his worn body.
RP Sample:
"Are you even a certified doctor?" Small pearls of sweat appeared on the forehead of the man. Whether it was from the humidity in the back of the crowded tavern or for other reasons was a matter of speculation.
"Hm?" Tycho looked up from his bag. "Well, that very much depends on your definition of "certified.", he responded absently before continuing his rummage through his stash.
"D-do you have a license?", the patient kept on, reluctantly holding onto the belt strapped tightly around his upper arm.
"Well...", Tycho began with his head and one arm half buried in search. "... that very much depends on your definition of "license", he mumbled into the bag. "Aha! Here we go!" He emerged from the bag holding a syringe and a vial filled with clear liquid. The man in the chair in front of him paled at the sight of the size of the needle. Tycho proceeded to prick through the cork and slowly fill the syringe up about half ways.
"Is th-th-this really n-necessary?" Tycho shook his head slowly. Poor soul. He would have to consider an alternative approach to make this option seem less frightening. And he knew just the way. "No no, not at all necessary!", he burst out suddenly, putting on a big smile.
"Oh blessed me. Thank you." His patient slowly regained a bit of colour. "What's the alternative?" he asked.
"Well, let me just get my saw from out back, and I'll be right back!", Tycho said overenthusiasticly as he stood up.
The patient sprung to his feet aswell. "Your what?!"
Tycho laughed heartily. "My bonesaw, of course! I've been looking forward to try it! See, if we don't prick you, your arm will become infected and we'll have to remove it. Come to think of it, you'll be my first amputation! Oh, isn't this exciting?"
The man waved his arms around like if fending off demons. "No no no! No saws or amputations! I'll take the vaccine, just, for the love of humanity, don't get the saw!", he pleaded.
"How disappointing.", Tycho let out a long-drawn sigh. "Very well then. You -are- the customer and I will comply."
After the treatment, Tycho received his payment and closed shop for the night, sending the remaining people in line home or off to pay a larger fee at a "certified" doctor's. When he exited through the back of the room, he was greeted by Greg who had been waiting for him outside.
"Today was a good haul, buddy. We'll be dining with the upper class tonight!" Greg raised its arms to the sides before letting them drop back down, looking down slightly. Tycho realized the problem.
"Oh, right... -I- will be eating well. Don't worry, Greg. I'm going to find you something nice to play with on the road."
Greg looked up at him. "How would you like, say, a… yo-yo?" he asked tryingly. Greg shook its head. "Right, your fingers won't fit. What about a leather ball?" Greg once more shook its head, this time a bit more hopeless. "Nah, you burst the last one, that's right…"
Scratching his chin, Tycho thought for a moment, then looked down into the bright yellow eyes of his pal. "I know now!", he exclaimed happily. "I am going to find you a nice gem!" The Golett threw its hands into to air and leapt up and down at the thought of this, forming two foot-shaped holes where it landed.
"You'd like that?" Greg stopped jumping and nodded firmly once. "Alright. You'll have it. But for now, let's go find something to eat." Tycho swung his backpack over Greg's shoulder and together they headed for the docks of Alexshire.
A final heads up, just two and a half more hours before the judgement and approvals are performed! Anyone still working on an SU or anyone wanting to do a last minute spruce up to their SU, this is your chance!
I've made a few tiny edits to my SU. There's an extra paragraph for Styx's personality and another line or two in Gabs' history. I'll just have to leave it alone and check back in the morning now! You'll be judging the SU's at midnight my time.
DONE! i had some issues, made a complete overhaul of the character that i initially had in mind and particularly the writing in the History section is not something i'm proud of, but i'm too tired (it's 1AM here...) and there's no time.
i just want to ask - in the event that i don't get in, could i at least get some feedback on my SU? ( ´ ▽ ` )ゞ thank you very much in advance!
Just wanted to say that if you ever decide to open more spots, please let me know! This looks like an incredible RP and unfortunately, I didn't have the time to finish an SU. In any case, good luck to everyone!
After much deliberation of the past week and especially throughout the course of the day, Carnivore Chie, Sir Bastian and yours truly have made our selections. We based on decisions on a multitude of factors including the quality of the SU, the potential of the character, how the character fits in with the party of adventurers, and so on. It was no easy task and I'd be lying if I said I knew exactly who I personally wanted the entire time. Without further ado, allow me to present the official cast of Tales of Altaria:
1. Carnivore Chie as Rei Nightingale and Sheldon the Squirtle
2. Sir Bastian as Terrin Gant and Dina the Gible
3. Raikiri as Cassandra Alexandra and Snow the Absol
4. Varys the Galvantula as Willard Welm and Germaine the Magnamite
5. SV as Matthew and Francis the Chimchar
6. Nagi as Fiore Agnes and Alphonse the Honedge
7. Synthet as Gabriella "Pure" and Styx the Sableye
8. Lumbah_Rye as Tycho Landerson and Gregory the Golett
As it works extremely well with the select few RPs I am currently in, the three of us will create a Skype group for all to join. If you have Skype or are willing to begin using it to hang out with your fellow RPers and discuss the RP, PM any of us your Skype contact information and we will invite you to the Tales of Altaria group.
Thank you all for your interest and I hope to see you all writing in the Corner!
Congrats to those who made it, and sorry to those who didn't. I'll have you lot know that it was -very- close between most of you, and we all had a tough time deciding who to keep with us. However, if someone decides to drop from the RP for one reason or the other, we'll notify one of you and/or write in here that we're looking for another player.
Anywho, thank you for showing interest, and don't be afraid to write to us if you want feedback on your work, or anything else! :)
Thank you very much guys, I'm looking forward to this RP a hell of a lot. Condolences to those who didn't make it, but I have no problem believing the three GM's had a hell of a time choosing. It's rare to see so many SU's of such high quality all for one RP.
waaah! i'm amazed i got in - but thank you so much! i'll do my best to keep up with all the amazing writers in this RP ( ´ ▽ ` )ゞ looking forward to it!
um, i wouldn't mind being added to the skype group also! my name on there is hiinotama.
Looks like you guys are all full, but if anything changes then... well I'll leave this here for your consideration :). It was good fun thinking of move-inspired spells.
Spoiler:
Name: Richard Penn Age: 23 Gender: Male Hometown: Rowanion, The Golden Isles, Ethora Occupation: Freelance Journalist/Poet
Appearance: Richard is around average height for an adult male - standing at five foot ten inches tall. His build is slight, due to a lack of any particular exercise or training - his frame is more suited to a scholar than a fighter or laborer. His arms and pectorals lack the muscle to strike someone with force.
Tousled, untidy, dark-brown hair line a face of rather delicate features - a petite nose, thin lips and a fairly undefined jaw. His skin is a soft pink, darkening slightly under the exposure of the constant sun - prone to breaking out into freckles or occasionally burning. Richard's eyes are a hazel-brown, bordered by thick, dark eyelashes and a thin brow line.
His clothes were expensive and high-value; however, the poor treatment as he has traveled away from home has not been kind to the fabrics. His long, scarlet coat is now dusted and fraying on the edges, his white shirt has stains and marks tactically hidden by necklaces and accessories and his light-tan boots have been ruined by the salty sea breeze over the last few weeks of travel.
Weapon/Fighting-Style: Richard is an amateur when it comes to hand-to-hand combat and weapon specialisations. Any brawls fought directly are uncoordinated and clumsy at best - it would be pure luck to land a hit, whereas winning would be near impossible. Richard's one trump card is his magical skill, potentially turning the tide of a battle or at least allowing him to escape with his life. It's normally best if Sammy takes the lead with fights, letting Rich to attack from a distance, and keep himself out of the way.
Skills/Magic:
-Fairy Wind is a spell that propels a weak, magical wind towards the opponent. The wind's direction is decided by which way Richard holds out his palm. The mana-infused wind is effective up to a distance of 15 metres, but more damage is done when cast directly in front of an opponent.
-Flash is a spell that can distract or blind the opponent - it is best used to escape from a powerful enemy or to buy time for Sammy to attack or recover. Richard often plays up the theatrical side of flash, activating it with a click of his fingers - the focal point of the burst of light.
-Magical Leaf is a spell that allows Richard to move plant life in the area and use it to attack the opponent from a distance. Most of the time this utilises spinning leaves to inflict damage on an opponent from afar.
Personality: Somewhat of an oddity in his home town. Richard is eccentric and outgoing, his take on the world often revolves around flamboyant and dramatic theories - why say something in a sentence when you can write a musical about it? He often recites poems and rhymes as they pop into his head, without any thought to how others may perceive him. Richard's frame of mind doesn't come from being thick skinned, but rather being oblivious to it. He requires direct feedback and instructions if something important is needing to be said.
Bubbly and energetic, Rich can sometimes be overwhelming and overbearing for new people. He is however, without a doubt, a caring individual and enjoys making friends.
Richard grew up in a lawful environment, where the those around him were well cared for, respected and lawful. From this, Rich believes in walking a righteous path in life and would avoid anything short of chivalry.
History: Growing up on the Golden Islands, Richard had a very comfortable childhood. His parents were critically acclaimed artists, earning enough money for a stable existence in the glamorous hills of Rowanion. His ideals stemmed from theirs; Richard favoured the arts, and the power of an idea, before that of muscle and combat. He never really knew conflict as he grew up, sheltered from the harsher realities of Altaria.
Amongst those who already had wealth, what was left to gain was magic. Unfortunately, the gift of magic wasn't something easily bought, entwining rituals were done by hopeful parents wishing for a powerful successor. At eleven, Richard's parents took him to an entwining ceremony. Their motives were much more innocent, they acted on traditions rather than greed, and it was on that day that Rich was united with his newly hatched partner, Sewaddle.
Richard named his new friend Sammy, the two made an odd pairing. Richard was naturally outgoing, whereas Sammy was a very quiet addition to the family. Needless to say, Rich's habits soon rubbed off on the pokémon. The brash pair became well recognised in their area, for both good and bad reasons.
Both lived happily in Rowanion, staying in the family home despite being old enough (and well off enough) to leave. It was only shortly before his 23rd birthday that Richard decided to start anew. He wished to experience the world beyond the luxury handed to him, to see the true beauty of the world and revel in the new experiences along the way. Packing away notebooks, quills and some well-drawn maps; the pair departed from the capital's docks for Cantaras - destination, Alexshire.
Pokémon Personality: Sammy thinks of herself as the Sewaddle to beat. She's tough, ballsy, and ready to dive headfirst into a battle - no matter whom it may be against. Seeing herself as a leader, Sammy rarely gets along with other dominant Pokémon and prefers those who are willing to listen to (or, at least, put up with) her demands and attitude. She isn't afraid to tell Richard when he's talking to much with a quick string-shot to the face.
Pokémon Moveset:
-String Shot
-Bug Bite
-Tackle
-Camouflage
RP Sample:
I haven't RP'd in a while ):
Spoiler: From Gilded Halls - As Clay
Why won't it work? Clay wondered, poking at his jar of water with curiosity with a finger of contempt. The instructions on the board seemed to suggest they could do something, but the water didn't react to any gesture of thought - no matter how dramatic or over-emphasised he made them. The water, probably plain tap water, just sat as it should, slight ripples of disturbance dancing across the surface as the teenager impatiently tapped.
He tried every variation of a Harry Potter pose he could. Arms stretched out; hands on the jar; intense staring - none of his ideas seemed to promote a response.
Not every road leads to success.
Sweeping to the front of the room, Clay examined the other jars. He ignored the leaf, leaving himself the jar of earth or matches to pick from. If fiction had taught him anything, power comes from the heart. Clay had never been an aggressive person, not particularly passionate - he picked up the jar of dirt and headed back to a desk at the side of the room.
Earth is solid he told himself, and the awaiting jar, Earth is strong, his spider-like hands wrapped around the glass container. Earth is dense, heavy, rich, everywhere, none of his mantras seemed to have an effect, a wave of disappointment crushed Clay as he looked for the slightest change in the soil.
A final thought made Clay concentrate once more, Earth is unwavering, he pictured the times he had stood strong, stood up for himself and stood up for adversity. He imagined himself being immovable, a constant, indestructible - just like his sample of dirt. With one more glance the contents of the jar contracted. The earth compressed itself, slowly squishing itself down in to a thin, solid layer.
The feeling of amazement did not last long. No sooner had Clay removed his hands to admire his skill than a grey flash darted across his desk, sending the beaker flying. The cat didn't seem particularly phased by the crash and the animal definitely felt no guilt. A gold, keyshaped crest hung from the cat's teal collar.
"Simon?" Clay called, holding out a hand. The cat, seemingly startled by a human knowing his name, darted back out the room. Clay stood from his chair, surrounded by glass shards, still processing what had happened.
Spoiler: NaNoWriMo 2014 prologue
The westward breeze carried the paper-thin wings, the plane soaring through the evening sky. The pilot, panicked by his pursuers, frantically twisted at the steering wheel; the plane jolted from left to right. There was little colour left in the world at this time of day, the surrounding trees becoming a blur of black as the sun set on the horizon - the enemy blended in with the mass of vegetation around him.
The beating of wings, followed by a short, sharp call. Creeping shadows burst out of the treeline, their enormous, feathered wings evident as they soared above their prey into the reddening sky. The pilot knew the predators meant business. He rattled a control stick by his leg; a section of the tail wobbled in unison, throwing the plane into an erratic flight-path.
The first assault came soon after, the giant predator bombing down from above. Talons flashed by the aircraft, narrowly missing the delicate structure. A chilling squawk cackled as the ferocious bird circled its prey, taunting the defenseless creature as it prepared for another attack. The second hawk joined, the smaller female looking equally dangerous to the frantic aeronaut.
This scene was not new to the pilot, it was a danger he faced every day. The hawks had always been hunting him, as long as he could remember, always chasing him around the forest - he could never escape.
He knew a second dive attempt was imminent. As the treeline broke, the pilot changed tactics, plunging the plane into a downward spiral to gain some distance from its hunters. Beyond the cover of the trees, he knew that the hunters would soon catch up, the only way to win this race was to use the aerial terrain to his advantage.
Fragile wings was buffeted by the wind, but the aircraft held together as the able pilot levelled off, flying back into the forest under the protection of the canopy. The hawks were out of sight, the pilot hoped he was off their radar as well.
The foliage cut out the light, the pilot had to rely on his instincts to maneuver in the darkness. Short, sharp turns barely avoided the tree trunks. Silence had crept in since going into hiding, there were no signs of the ensuing predators - however, he knew they were there. Even the rustling leaves seemed to stand still as the pilot strained to hear any sign of another onslaught.
There was no safe place he knew of, nowhere to aim for, no direction any more favourable. If he could get some distance though, the pilot might survive another day. He was used to life on the run, always escaping the fearsome predators of the vinewood.
Something moved in the corner of his vision; the pilot couldn't react fast enough. The strong, feathered wing made contact. A disastrous crack followed, signalled the breaking of the aeroplane's wing. The desperate aeronaut struggled with the controls; however, nothing seemed to be helping.
Spiralling down from the canopy, the aircraft was lost. The pilot braced for impact, mind blank with fear. The plane crashed earlier than expected; a spattering of glass cushioning the descent. The plane found ground on a spacious, soft floor. The mangled remains would need weeks worth of repair to ever be air-worthy again. Shrill cries echoed from behind, the hawks darting past the smashed window in search of their prey. There was no way in. The pilot was safe from the birds, for now.
This is something I'm possibly gonna take some heat for, but... I'll be honest, I'm a huge sucker for someone playing the role of a traveling, free-lance journalist. It was honestly one of the jobs I was hoping someone would make for their character in this thing. So, with that said... I'm going to go ahead and accept Magic into the group.
But with this addition, we're officially closed. Period. No more.