The Ivory Tower--The Flight (PG-16ish)

All right, it's been a very long time since Syn has RPed. And, she doesn't know how long this will be able to go, but she's had an idea for a Pokemorph RP for quite some time. So. . . we'll see what happens.

-*-*-

It is said that far from the desolate, blistering land of the South there is a place of refuge for all of those affected by the Shade. It is said that this place is a tower, a beautiful tower hidden within the mountains of the North. It is said that this tower is a sanctuary, and in that sanctuary, the Condemned would not be at the mercy of the Shade. It is said that the Condemned would take the tower for their own, and live safely in the mountains. It is said that the tower will give them the power to fight back.

It is said that the Ivory Tower will help the Condemned overcome the Shade.

-*-*-

This is the tale whispered throughout the halls of the Shade's base, from one Pokemorph to another. The legend of a far-away haven has woven itself into their minds, and generation after generation, the need to escape to the Ivory Tower has been growing. But, the members of the Shade have heard the stories as well, and are doing all they can to prevent a break out of any of the Condemned. The Condemned are told this story is a myth, that there is no such thing as the Ivory Tower, and that they will never escape. But some still hold on to the beliefe of the Tower. . .

-*-*-

Okay, so this is how it breaks down. The Shade is an organization of baddies who change Pokemon into Pokemorphs and either train and sell them to wealthy patrons, or use them for cruel experiments and missions. The Shade has been running this operation for almost three decades, hidden away in their base. The base itself is in the Southern Desert, a misrable place for people and Morphs alike.

But the desert is not the worst concern of the Pokemorphs. Many of the Morphs believe it would be kinder to perish in the swirling sands than live in the base; but the Shade's base can hardly be called anything better than a hellhole. Morphs are beat, broken, and shattered. Within the base, they are forced to undergo many horrible tests that often leave the victims traumatized. They are forced to fight and train until they can no longer move, and are then 'punished' for not being able to keep going. The Pokemorphs have taken to calling themselves the Condemned, and have almost lost all hope. Almost, but not all.

-*-*-

The Ivory Tower is supposed to be a three-part RP, and The Flight is only the first part. In The Flight, your character would be a Pokemorph of any sort (except legendaries) who was trying to escape from the Shade. Not only will they have to escape from the base, but manage to outrun--and sometimes fight--the Special Retrieval Force (SRF) that are pursuing them. It's a deadly race to the North, to a place that might not even exist, and a true test of endurance, hope, and strength.

-*-*-

As for rules, Syn would like to keep it simple.
- Please use proper grammar and spelling, none of that, "lol guyz i is rpin wit u i is a amazin morh i sav u all." We don't need that. Seriously. xD
- This is a novel-style RP. That means no, "*action* talking *action*"
- And for God's sake, no Mary Sues. Just. . . no. *shudders*

-*-*-

Sign up-

Name-
Age-
Gender-
Morph- No more than two of the same, please. . .
Personality- This can be optional, but it is appreciated.
Appearence- This however, isn't optional. Sorry!
History- But this is optional! Everybody dance!
Other- Quirks of any sort, hobbies, things you're good at (knitting, perhaps?), whatever else you want to put.

The RP sample has been removed. However, Syn will ask one to leave or work harder if their profile doesn't seem up to par.

-*-*-

And that's it! Syn will post her Espeon-Morph's profile after someone posts. And she'll try to answer any questions you lot have. . . So. . . let's start? xD

I'd like to reply as a Garchomp/Glalie morph- Ice/Ground/Dragon... REALLY GOOD. However, I must know- are we a human Pokemorph, or a Pokemon infused with other DNA???

Name- Morgana
Age- 17
Gender- Female
Morph- Gardevoir

Personality- Morgana is a cheery person by nature, she usually is in a good mood, smiling and such, trying to find the bright sides in everything and she especially hates to see her friends in a bad mood and will do pretty much anything to make them feel better.
She also hates violence but will fight if she has to... But she will still make sure that the ones she's fighting isn't badly hurt, just enough to make them unable to hurt her friends...

She likes the colors black, white and green, black is what she hides some of her morph features with, white is the color of some of her morph features like her lower body half and green is the color of her hair.

Appearance-
As you can see, she has the lower body of a Gardevoir, and there are other small differences such as her eyes and her hair color, but she keeps them mostly hidden under the clothes she's wearing so people won't notice, when she's with others she tries to keep her lower half disguised as a long dress..
Her usual style of clothing involves something black and/or white and something long and stylish..
History- (Might add)
Other- She has a hobby in bending spoons due to her psychic abilities. She also likes to be with others and hates being alone (The hates being alone is from her past where she was left alone for months)

To answer Brad--'human' or 'anthro' 'Morphs, depending on how many animal-like features you'd like to retain. Capalex's character seems to be more humanish and would act more like a human, whereas Syn's has fur, digitigrade legs, ect, and would act more like an Espeon.

Capalex. . . legendaries are a no, sorry! . . . Holy crap, we were paired when Syn was Dark_Espeon. o_o

If you need a pair, Brad es open... and bored. Anyways, here is my sign-ups. Ton of types- oh well- Good against anything... Shweet!!!

Name- Brad Matthews
Age- 21
Gender- teh one with the iron rod...
Morph-Glalie/Garchomp/Rotom/Absol/Charizard/Blastoise?Metagross- he, due to rebellion in teen years, got a lot of Pokemon pumped into him. However, he still retains a somewhat humanoid manner of action, and somewhat humanoid appearance.
Personality- Due to hours of solitary confinement and boredom, Brad is very solitary and antisocial. He enjoys being alone, and is an intellectual. Around others, he hides, or stays silent, conveying a sinister or mysterious aura. Inside, he is ruthless, merciless, cruel- perfect for assasinations. He hopes to escape, but he wants to kill all the Shades before he goes...
Appearence- An 8'4 giant, he is quite intimidating. He has pitch black skin, gold and white hair, and blood red eyes. His arms and shoulders are covered in silver/gold armor. Out of his back sprout 12 white wings, like bat wings. They are covered in a ghostly glowing aura. From the back of his legs are boosters, helping him fly/swim at supersonic speeds. On his chest, he can protrude gigantic cannons. His whole body is surrounded by a cold aura. His arms, on the bottom side, have a long line of Absol blades, red in color. They also have electricity swirling about them. His shoulders also have mounted cannons. He also has gills. He wears a white leather jacket, sunglasses, black velvet shoes, and blood red jeans. He is incredibly muscular, and looks, quite frankly, like a badass angel of death.
History- Born in Ever Grande to rich, but uncaring parents, he was kidnapped after he graduated college at age 14. His parents never paid ransom, so the Shade experimented upon him, injected him with a lot of DNA, and locked him in solitary confinement. After he was legally able to drink, he started drinking a lot to stave off insanity, and by the day he sinks deeper and deeper into the drinking hole. Deemed too powerful for missions, it is said he is saved for a world war of some kind. However, he will not fight so willingly for them- they no nothing of his powers anymore.
Other- Loves Jeopardy and swimming. Also an avid fan of XXX videos.

*Does Syn always refer to Syn in the 3rd person?*

Name- Takashi Tomoyo
Age- 20
Gender- male
Morph- Cacturne and Meganium
Personality- Takashi, despite his looks is a very social able person. Being experimented on hasn't once hindered his ability to talk with people and constantly remain cheerful. This being said, his time of being experimented on have not left him without bitterness. He flares in anger at the mere mention of escaping to get revenge on what was done to him. Although by looking at him you wouldn't be able to tell. He almost seems to enjoy the fashion statements provided to him by the morphs he obtained. Takashi likes talking to people especially if they have morphs like him. Seeing the visually obvious effects of another morph seems to put him at ease and although he didn't ask for the powers and appearance he has, he's always trying to make the best of it, saying that he has actually grown to like them. Takashi is also a fierce battler, due to his tricky nature. The mixture of him with a dark type pokemon is only befitting as he uses many deceitful and sometimes humorous tricks to win any fight. That being said, having the use of Cacturne's spikes at his disposal, when he deals the finishing blow, it isn't pretty.

Appearence- Takashi is a very handsome young boy. He is Caucasian and about 5'7 and 130 lbs. A very skinny build, with no visible muscles, he is clearly a very limber kid. He has short brown shaggy hair which is never brushed but also rarely seen. His hair is never seen due to the fact of his first visible feature of being a morph. Being combined with a Cacturne he has the characteristic trait of a Cacturne which is it's scare crow hat. Takashi is always wearing the green scare crow hat which is pulled tight and often pulls his hair partially over his eyes, giving him an aura of mystery around him. He has thin soft eyes with deep yellow irises, also characteristic of a Cacturne, which one could almost get lost in. As for his clothes, Takashi is a very formally dressed kid. He wears tightly fitting black button down dress shirt that he leaves un-tucked with a white undershirt underneath. Over his heart, he wears the other symbol of his morph, a ring of pink petals arranged to form a flower. Due to his Meganium parts in him, small pink petals grow out of his wrists every once and a while. Takashi doesn't like how these look so he clips the petals and arranges them in the same flower pattern on his shirt. For pants Takashi sports a pair of dark blue thinly fit jeans with a slight fade down the center of the legs. His shoes are a simple dark forest green pair of converse with white soles that he wears to match his green scare crow hat. The final feature of Takashi is the two vines that he can't seem to figure out what to do with. The two vines stick out behind him on his waist, just like he has two tails. He can control these vines willfully and usually wraps them through the belt loops of his jeans to conceal them, though in battle he wont hesitate to pull them out as a trump card. Takashi goes through many pairs of clothes, because after each fight, if he's not careful his shirt will be full of holes from his cactus needles.

History- Takashi has been a condemned since he was a young boy. He was captured while walking home from his first year at junior high and has been forced to do training as his grass pokemon hybrid for many years. Before being captured, Takashi had been an accomplished member of the boxing club at his junior high, making him quite agile when using his hands, and even more deadly when using the blessing of the needles of Cacturne. when not being forced to train or being beaten, he would always try and talk to the other condemned, to make alliances when ever possible. Having more friends is much better than having no friends. especially when you all have that one large thing in common...

Other- due to the clothing destructive nature of the spikes he keeps retracted all over his arms and back, Takashi has become a very accomplished sewer. He has mastered the art of being able to use almost anything to patch up a hole in any piece of clothing.

RP Sample - link in my sig goes to an RP i created.

Hope my writing style fits your ideals :D

Name- Thrall
Age-14
Gender- male
Morph- Sableye
Personality- Timid and often quiet, Thrall is shy and amazingly withdrawn. Much of his withdrawal is based on his terrible speech impediment from being so closely bonded to a Sableye.

Appearance- He is still vaguely human in appearance, though short at about 5' 3". His skin is purple as a Sableye and his hair is a crystalized blue, reminiscent of a true Sableye's eyes. He has the chest gem, and his fingers and toes end in sharp claws. His eyes are the only thing that remained unchanged, a solid human brown. Tends to wear pants and a large trench coat that can be shed easily so as to take full advantage of his ability to fade out of sight.

History- Born into poverty Thrall was sold for food when he was six weeks old. Because he was one of the youngest human specimens ever obtained by the Shade he represents the most complete fusion to date. He was named Thrall by the Shade. The only Sableye morph in existence he represents a failed attempt at an assassin, the crystalline growths and the diet of gemstones saw to it no more Sableye morphs were brought into existence. Thrall grew up with a slightly twisted world view

Other- Very good at hiding and climbing, he tends to shift in and out of sight when nervous or excited. Needs to eat gems to keep from growing extremely ill. Loves to nap and sit around thinking for hours.

Psychotic_Demon said:

Capalex. . . legendaries are a no, sorry! . . . Holy crap, we were paired when Syn was Dark_Espeon. o_o

Click to expand...

o.o Kewl xD Anyways, i'll change it then =P Gardevoir this time =3

Edit: Changed it Syn =3

To answer Evkay, yes. Syn does speak in third-person. It's just a habit, if anything. *laughs* She can stop if you'd like.

Good news! Everyone's in! But Brad, if you could perhaps tone down yourself a bit. . . oh, what the Hell. You seem to have a thing for the 'kick your ass and your mother's' kind of characters, so just keep it.

Isn't Syn nice?

And she isn't quite looking for a pair, but then again maybe. *giggles* Oh, decisions, decisions.

Name- Myste
Age- Presumably 17
Gender- Female
Morph- Espeon

Personality- A distant, timid young lass, Myste is the embodiment of a girl whose been beaten down, then kicked (repeatedly) for sobbing on the ground. She winces if she feels anyone make a sudden move, and due to the betrayal by the person who evolved her before her transformation, has been shutting down slowly. Myste has a tendency to retreat into herself when she feels threatened, and views herself as a lowly, worthless object for others to use. Due to her ultra-low self-esteem, she is a pitiful creature. However, if someone--anyone--would be patient enough to connect with her, they would find an extremely preceptive and caring person. She puts everyone else above her, even though she fears them. Seriously, she's afraid that everyone is going to hurt her, and has learned to take it.

But back to her inner self. Due to her psychic powers, she has the ability to sense emotions and send replacement emotions back to them. However, this requires her taking their emotions on, which she often does for people she respects, usually without their knowing. Her own kindness and concern for others is one of the things that is tearing her apart from the inside, as well and the constant abuse she receives from the Shade. Myste is worth nothing, she has learned.

Appearence- Myste

What the picture doesn't show is that Myste is an albino, and she's also completely blind. She truely is like mist, just a silvery shadow hovering in the background. Her eyes are a clouded white colour, and her fur and hair have a silver sheen, which contrasts sharply with her grey outfit.

History- Myst was the seventh Pokemon-to-Morph Pokemorph ever created, which is why she looks so much like an Espeon still. The Shade stole her from her mother, and thought she was shiny until they saw her red eyes. Her vision really wasn't that good from the start. The trainer that they gave her to gained her trust and evolved her, and then transformed her. The shock of being changed into a. . . whatever she was, was too much, and she tried to escape. As punishment, she was tortured, and later on blinded. Myste was told that she was blinded to help develope her psychic powers faster, as she was going to be used to infiltrate buildings of interest and then dismantle their security systems. However, she was taught to fight, and she fights well when she needs to. As a spy, she's not strong, but fast. For all her life she has lived at the Desert Base, and the resulting scars can be seen criss-crossing her body like intricate lace if one cares to look close enough.

Other- Myst won't admit it, but she's and excellent singer.

Name- Mikel Ano
Age- 16
Gender- Male
Morph- Absol
Personality- Mikel has a personality that can be called cold. He really doesn't care much about what happens as long as he is ok in the end. Most of the time he will be pointing out the bad parts of things but that is only to state the facts and not to be thinking negative. Really deep inside Mikel is optistism and does care about that is really deep down and can't be seen.
Appearence- Mikel is covered in snow white fur on his thin body and is tall. He has black nails on his hands that are not cover in fur but with blueish black color skin that matches his face. Mikel has long white fur around his neck that makes up his mane which would be around a real absol's neck. Mikel has matching snow white hair and a little above his forehead is a black horn-like feature. Come stright out of his neck is a long curve black blade that is very sharp. Mikel is dress in black jeans and a belt is used to keep his baggy jeans around his waist. A blue button up shirt over a dark blue shirt covers his above waist. A long sharp tail can be seen coming out from a hole in his black jeans.
History- Mikel doesn't remember much before becoming a pokemorth but does remember fresh mountain air and how it tasted. Still Mikel was taken as a very young absol and remember little about it. The next memory Mikel remembers is being changed and beaten to fight. For some reason this idea of figthing just came natural for Mikel and just countinue to fight. It was mostly against other pokemorths who were Condemned in the Shade's base. Mikel was always treated coldly by the Shades even if he won and that coldness rubbed off MIkely. ALl Mikel knows is the inside of the base and that is all. Mikel knows that they are making him stronger and he has no problem with that but lately he been having someting that is unfamilar to him which normal people would call 'dreams'. In these dreams Mikel see mountains and clouds. He has no idea about these things but has remember whispers being said about another world. A world outside the base. Still this Mikel for the moment has shrug of these feelings and ideas an countinue on doing what he has been doing since being a pokemorth.
Other- For some reason Mikel likes to read and knows how to do it. It was only by accident he found a book but he likes it and tries to find some but Mikely doesn't make it into an obessions since it is hard to find one in the base.

lol you guys and your pairs.... anywho i don't usually make OOC posts like this before the RP starts, but i wanted to comment that I like the mixture of characters we've got here. quick question though, could Syn make a discussion thread for Syn's RP so we can talk about Syn's RP without a bunch of OOC spam? :D

Yes, lets do that. SPAM, begone!

Oops, yes, she forgot. She'll do that now!

Name- Chishio Uhghuart. (However, known mokinly as Chi Chi, for his stature.)
Age- Morphed at 16 and has spent two years under the service of Shade, 18
Gender- Male
Morph- Nidoking: (recently forced to evolve from Nidorino)
Personality- Chishio was an outspoken lad dring his class, he loved acting and writing, he even tried his hand at drawing, though as he often remarked, "Nothing worth looking at." But he was content with his life, having managed to get a lead role in a traveling group of performers, before he was kidnapped by Shade. Now after being forced to maim and hurt under the evil banner of Shade, Chishio has become almost mute, and isolated. Even by other pokemorphs he's sometimes loathed, simply because, in order to live, he did what Shade wanted. But he has been preparing to make his journey to heaven. Or at the least, a peaceful death.
Appearance- Unlike other nidoking morphs, he isbn't extremely muscular, nor is he decked out in full scales that hinder his movement. When he was morphed, the scientists wanted him to be speedy and quick. His body is athletically slim. Dark purple skin. His face, bears the moonstone used to evolve him on his forehead, with one jagged spike right above that, separating his black hair, which is long and unkept. His arms bear one natural plate, each with their own poison tips, and his claws. He also has shin and knee plats, but exposed underfoot.
History- As stated he was attempting to be an actor, and he and his girlfriend, were sitting at the park, when they were kidnapped. Both of them had undergone the morphing, but for Angeline, something went wrong. Her mind had snapped in her grief, and she was more like a doll, which Shade used in the wrongest of ways. In order to rescue her from this terrible fate, Chishio, killed her. A slice across her spine caused her to bleed out, but feel no pain whatsoever.

Afterwards, he was put into solitary confinement, until they realized, they could use him for assassinations. They forced him to evolve at that point, and his hands have been seeped in blood and poison.

Other- Chishio still tries to write, but his hands have become clumsy and difficult to hold a pen. So, he had turned to carving, his claws chiseled many small pebbles in his cells, ranging in small works of art.

Name - Solitaire Evans
Age - 17
Gender - Female
Morph - Pikachu
Personality - Solitaire probably isn't the nicest Pokemorph you could find. The girl is stuck up and brash, and she can be susceptible to extreme mood swings, often resulting in accidental discharges of electricity. She's cute, and has a tendency to flirt to get her own way. While Solitaire may not warm up to you right away [and vice versa!], she is a good person, and will do anything for those she considers friends, however difficult it may be do achieve that status. Unlike the other morphs, Solitaire isn't opposed to the idea of having Pokemon and human genes.
Appearance- http://pictures.Fanart-Central.net/d/Dark_Assassin92/532103.jpg

Solitaire didn't receive many Pikachu genes, being that she is tiny, which explains why her only Pikachu characteristics are her ears and tail, as well as ability to discharge electricity. Standing at only 5'2" and weighing in at a mere 93 pounds, Solitaire isn't one for the front lines, but she can sure hold her own at a distance, using powerful electric blasts to demolish her enemies. After receiving the injection, Solitaire changed her wardrobe to mimic a Pikachu more.

History - Solitaire refuses to tell anybody, but from this simple fact alone, one can deduce that it must not have been pretty. This could account for why she isn't so opposed to being a morph.

Other - Solitaire can pick locks. She's also terrified of being in absolute darkness.

There was heat. A stifling heat, that made Myste want to rip off her own flesh. It was too hot, too oppresive--and it never changed. Day after day she would feel like she was going to burst into flames, and night after night she felt as though she would freeze to death. If only she would. . .

The world she knew was not a nice one, however consistent it was. It wasn't one she would have every wanted anyone else to suffer through. She didn't choose this life. She didn't do anything to deserve it.

She was born, and that must have been her sin.

"Again." The command was monotone, controlled, but still somehow made the fur on her neck rise. Myste didn't want to do it again, but knew she would be punished if she didn't. . . She was so tired now, she wanted to return to her cell and curl up on the floor and sleep--

"I repeat; again."

Myste obeyed, focusing her mind on the world she could not see. The translucent jewel on her forehead flashed and glowed dimly, and in her mind she pictured the land. He picture was sketchy and greyscale; the sky and sand were black, and the lines that formed the shapes and objects were outlined white, but still a similar grey colour. It was a form of echolocation Myste had developed, and the Shade was pleased. They called it psycholoaction.

Her jewel dimmed; the image disappeared, but she knew where the boulder was now. She refocused her mind on it, and lifted, her arms rising slowly into the air--she could feel it's weight, it's texture, every small bump and crater. If Myste wasn't careful and she lost focus, it would crush her arms, even though she was ten feet away from it.

Now all she had to do was move it to the target that was painted onto a flat rock close to her 'trainer.' A portion of Myste's mind searched for it using another psycholocation blast, and she locked onto it. The boulder swung torwards it, and she let go; she heard the boulder landed on the target, bounced, and rolled off. Her long ears lowered, pressing themselves against her neck. The crunch of boots could be heard walking torwards her. She heard the air part as an arm sliced through it.

Myste was on the ground in the sand, bleeding from her left shoulder. Another blow hit her, a kick that almost broke her ribs. Two more hit the girl lying at her trainers feet, making her eyes well up with tears. She gasped for air, and was yanked up by her hair.

"You missed." His breath was foul, and Myste's oversensitive nose would have screamed if it could.

"I. . . I didn't mean--" A slap across the face silenced her.

"Don't do it next time." Myste was thrown to the ground, and she did all she could to keep herself from breaking down in front of the Shade member. The wind picked up, and grains of sand lodged in her cut and tangled in her fur. "Go back to your cell," he said, turning and walking away from her, "we'll resume you training tomorrow."

Myste liftd herself, wincing. Every little movement sent pain searing through her body. But, she was thankful, glad that she hadn't been hurt as badly as she usually was, and glad that she could go inside and wash the sand from her silvery fur. Her tail dragged behind her, leaving two groves in the sand that were soon covered. A storm was coming, which was probably the only reason that she was allowed to go it.

Myste's feet felt something quite different from the sand that cushioned her paws. It was cold, hard, tiled. She was at the base. The doors shut with a hissssssh behind her, trapping her inside. She could hear her footsteps and breathing echoing loudly. He ears even picked up the miniscule splash of her tears hitting the tiled floor.

She knew how to make her way along the dormitory corridors of the base without the help of her mind; she had lived in them since she was. . . changed. Changed into a hideous mockery of her old self, changed into a monster, a freak, a deformed partial-human. She hated the way she now walked (or limped, as she often did after her trainer was through with her), hated the way she now spoke, hated how she now had to wear ridiculous clothes, how she was tricked and betrayed, how she was used for sex, for spying, for hurting, for being someone else's target. She hated herself.

But that was her life.

The Espeon-Morph was at her door, and she felt around for the knob. Finally, her hand closed around it, and she entered. Myste heard it shut behind her with a soft click.

She had never used her psycholocation in her own room, but still had formed an image of what it was. A table was settled against the left wall, and on it were a few items; a brush, hair ties, papers and pens that she could no longer use, bottles of healing substances, bandages, and glasses that she could no longer see out of. She still wore them on occasion, as they reminded her of a time when she could still see (however poorly) and--though she didn't know it--looked nice on her.

To the right of that table was a door that led to a bathroom and showers that she shared with a few other 'Morphs that she didn't speak to. The back wall was bare, save for a screen and speakers that the Shade used to monitor and communicate with her. Torwards the right back corner was Myste's bed, a large circular indent in the ground with a round matress fit in it. Her bed was always unkempt; she couldn't see it, so why bother making it? A light hung over it, and a switch was on the right wall beside the bed. However, she rarely turned on the light. She didn't need it. She saw in her mind with her powers, a dark grey backdrop with colours in the shape of figures. The only time Myste saw anything 'clearly' was when she used psycholocation, and that was in black, grey and white, not to mention like a drawing by someone how never bother to erase.

The Espeon shook herself, and heard the sand hit the tiles--she didn't care. Someone would clean it up. Myste walked over to the table, picking up the bottle of. . . whatever it was. It stung badly, but helped her wounds heal faster. She used a cotton ball to apply it to her shoulder, then wrapped the shoulder up in cloth bandages. If only she had been taught how to heal herself. . .

Her bruises and other injuries throbbed, but there was nothing she could do about those. Myste picked up the glasses and placed them on her snout, then crossed the small room and stepped down into her bed. She would not be allowed to go to the cantine for dinner for another three hours, and what else was there to do but lay there?

Myste curled up in it, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of the sand still stuck in her fur. It would go away when she showered that night. Myste sighed, pulling her hair out of the loose bun she kept it in.

She bean to sing softly.

i know u just started can i join now

Name=Deric Cleru
Age =16
Morh =mightyena
looks= has white hair like dante, bear chested with siked chains round his wrists and neck, weas black jeans and boots Pointed ears and 2 fangs likes a vamPire Posses agility and strenght, changes to a werewolf like mightyena...
history= was released recently from shade maximum security because of his his animal like instincts and unPredictable rage
beware he kill without reason
thats the most he knows about himself...

Heat, is a weapon to some. To others a torture, but for Chishio, it was a guide. He was outside of the complex as well, trying to survey his target despite the wavering air in front of him. His projectile was a massive boulder, small for most Nidoking morphs, but for Chishio, it was a challenge.

The target flickered in and out in the sandy hell he was trapped in, and with his scales trapping the burning heat, it seemed to be impossible. Gripping the rock with his poisoned claws, he heaved it up, and screamed out a roar as he flung it. It spiraled through the air, and Chishio could see it was going to miss.

He reacted quickly pulling his arm back again, and tossing it out like he was throwing again. A needle launched out from his hand and smashed into the rock, giving it some more power, to topple the red target.

The response from the trainer was a swift kick to his spine, sending him down. But the next kick was stopped by the chilling sound of clapping.

"Excellent work Chishio…" It was an officer, wearing his usual black attrite, despite the heat and sunlight.

"B-But sir, he interfered with the-" The trainer yelled flustered.

"No, he did exactly what I needed from him. It is why he has such a excellent record." The officer whispered grinning.
"You've struck five targets, that threatened Shade, and you killed every one. That is worth acknowledgement Chishio…"

The Nidoking morph only kept his head bowed, refusing to look up to the man. "Is their anything you have to say?" The officer whispered, goading the boy. There was a soft growl, as white fangs exposed themselves, and a harsh wheeze came out. "L-Let me go…"

The only response was a laugh, and a wave of his hand. "You're being transferred to another unit, there is a morph who could use motivation, and perhaps someone with such experience can help you."

"Send him to Sub Section D."
"Aye sir!"

Nidoking was led to the building, and he easily found the room where he was told to go to. These dorms were shared by the morphs, something which Chishio regretted, but he opened the door, entering. A couple of showers, no curtains of course, A screen for monitoring, and other basics. Turning he heard soft singing in his ear, and he blinked, a silver Espeon morph was lying there.

"This time hit every target, Takashi." The trainer demanded.

It was another hot and miserable day in the desert for mid-day training. At least it was for the trainers. Takashi was half cactus... he didn't mind the heat or sand in the slightest. In front of him, dozens of smoldering targets sat placed through out the sand. The targets retreated underground and were replaced by twice as many new ones.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me, trainer." Takashi whined.

Takashi had an unusual relationship with his trainer. Though he was rough on Takashi, he didn't receive the same beatings or extreme ill treatment that the others seemed to receive. That being said, he was still hard on Takashi, constantly pushing him to fight hard.

"Do it." The trainer commanded.

"Fine fine fine" Takashi responded, waving his hand back to his trainer. He hunched over and flexed his muscles, causing multiple long green spikes to rip through his shirt. He pointed his arms out in front of him.

"Pin Missle!" Takashi yelled as a maelstrom of needles poured from his arms, filling the targets with hundreds of needles. Takashi retracted the needles back into his arm and tipped his hat back over his eyes, satisfied with his work.

"Good Takashi, we'll continue with ---" The trainer was cut off by a call on his radio.

"A sandstorm is approaching, bring the Cacturne morph back to base. If that storm hits while he's out there, he'll be at a clear advantage." The officer said on the other end of the radio.

"Understood." The trainer confirmed "Takashi, thats it for the day. Come on back."

"Aye, sir." Takashi replied, walking back to his trainer. Upon returning to the base, he immediately walked to the dormitory area, silently complaining to himself about the accommodations and time until it was time to eat. As he approached his door he saw the morph across the hall was also returning. A small Espeon morph girl, she was always quiet but Takashi attempted conversation every now and again. He reached his door and called to her before she was out of earshot.

"Oi, Myste!" He called as the door shut. He shrugged it off and walked into his room. Takashi's room was a simple room. A desk which contained things to take notes with and his cherished sewing kit with needles and assortments of thread colors. His bed lay in the corner, the mattress was riddled with puncture holes. A disgusting reminder of the days when Takashi could not control his powers. Next to it was the shower which was just as much for washing up as it was for "watering" himself since he was basically a walking plant...

Takashi took his shirt off and turned it facing him, inspecting the damage from today's training. He sat counting to himself and sighed in disappointment.

"26 holes today....ugh" Takashi complained out loud. He walked to the desk, snatching the needle and thread off his desk and plopping on his bed, cross legged. He sat the shirt in front of him and began to sew his holes closed until it was time to eat.

How's this?

Tell me if I need to change it

Name- Orinon
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Morph: Tyranitar
Personality: Orinon is very afraid of not knowing what to do. He has grown used to being ordered around by Shade. He is very kind hearted although when he is angry he rampages like a Tyranitar destroying anything in his path.
Appearence- Looks like a Tyranitar but with a Human face and one Human arm. There are other human parts but none that are visible.
History- Having been a morph for as long as he can remember, Orinon has very little memory outside of his cell in Shade's base.
Other- Orinon is good at destroying things but not musch else. Normally the things that are destroyed are destroyed by accident.