Heaven's not a place that you go when you die.
With the end of School looming just seven days away, i've found myself with a ridiculous vast amount of time despite Summer jobs, Horseback riding fiascos, and various vacations. So is it okay if I reserve? ^_^; Put me down for an Umbreon species, Rebel side. If I have the time, i'll start tonight, but with Final studying and makeup work cramming, it'll probably be sometime tomorrow. But for now, here's the basics.
Name: Vida Alaiyo Arlington
Age: Sixteen.
Sex: Female
Species: Strictly Umbreon. <3
Powers: Compelled by the unnatural viciousness, yet beauty of her crimson irises, many foreigner as well as a local is apt to be snared by the Venus Fly Trap quality Vida's spiteful irises posess. Presently themselves as innocently alluring and naive, oh so aware of a human's instinctive tendancy to devour the weak, her eyes first appear hauntingly vulneralbe and pained, and only at the last minute, when the person in question is mere feet from Vida's presence, she steadfastly switches over, the coldblooded intent coming in to view as the irises become a Spider Web, and the human doomed to struggle futilely is entangled for as long as she desires. Despite the nastiness of this horrifying quality, this little 'curse' as Vida bitterly refers to it isn't intentional, but a defense mechniasm as natural as the toxic, venom-secreting pores lining her tiny frame, activated only when she feels threatened, nervous, in an aggressive swing, or is just overstimulated by too many things. With the potent venom she excretes, this can also be the case when she is forced to walk too long in direct sunlight, as a dark Pokemon, her primary threat is the Sun, and the day that tags along close behind, that which offers comfort and security for both. Among her arsenal of attacks are Payback, Dark Pulse, and an odd form of Dream Eater. When a person, Pokemon, or fellow morph in question is dozing peacefully away, she can choose the extent to which she invades their dreams, choosing simply to spy upon them out of boredom, or, if she feels the need, immerse herself completely to either offer assistance, or sabotage it, warping the target's mind to make herself more powerful in this dream land, and use that to her advantage. She also boasts incredible healing powers, but as with every other aspect of her being, are more powerful when she can draw them from the night air, or, most significantly, her personal Goddess, the moon. Healing powers are amplified at their max on the night of a full moon, and if Vida doesn't expel it frequently, she herself is susceptible to becoming feverish and delusional with excess energy. At night, she is at the mean of her powers, and during the day, it could take more than half her energy to heal just a tiny flesh wound. Being a partial but complete dark type, her eyes have evolved into something of a nocturnal beast's, with barely any exert of her radiant irises, she can dispel the shadow from the area, and strategize pathways for herself. This power, as with others, comes at a price, however. During the daylight, on incredibly sunny days, aside from sweating poison out the wazoo, her corneas are prone to easy irritation and burning, due to their light sensitivity. So far, her only noted vulnerabilites are the Sun, Fighting and Bug type Pokemon or Morphs, which feel obliged to attack her, even if she is only passing through, and Human ignorance aided by fictious myths about the darker species. While she has a notable tolerance for intense and excruciating pain, she isn't very swift, and if in the company of Vida, you will find yourself dawdling and enjoying the scenery while she trucks along at her fastest pace, struggling to keep leaden legs up. Her nature opts for more of a defensive strategy than an aggressive one, but if taunted to the point, she has been known to lash out with a weak Dark Pulse to scare the intruder away.
Appearance: A surprisingly gaunt girl for one whose bestial statistics should boast a hearty and stocky build, Vida seems not only to have suffered from years of harshly rationed food and foraging through other people's trash, but to have developed the typical slender frame of an Umbreon. She bristles to think that like the humans who bred and raised her, she boasts near-Human features, making her appear more as a Cosplaying human than an authentic honest-to-god Pokemorph. The discrimination piled on her is no less than any other Pokemorph, more or less gawky than she, for people, in their inbred nasty stereotypes, look down on her if not more perhaps, because insead of being a smoldering creature of passionate fire, or one of the Normal Morph-types who, like their Pokemon counterparts, were commonly adopted as pets, Vida is undoubtedly a dark type, and as her kind is associated with the sketchy and two-faced nature of their deity Darkrai, it is a given that she, as of the same wild night blood, couldn't possibly have a single inch of compassion permeating her being. Long, inky black hair tumbles past bony shoulders, and ends in a straight cop at mid-back, the individual hairs so fine and unified in themselves that she pins it down or sweeps it up commonly with relative ease, and usually keeps it in a practical Ponytail. She will also, occaisionally wear it swept up in a flourish, held up only by two intertwined red combs. Fierce eyes, legions more unforgiving and harsh than the bitterness with which she regards humans, lash out at the world guardedly, letting nothing pass unnoticed before them, as she knows the world how it is, for its cruel ugliness, and prides herself in thinking that she was made stronger through all her painstaking tolerance. The eyes themselves are normally as a human's, with only deep, dulled crimson melancholy for irises. When her anger is riled, or any of her powers are being activated, however, an internal drive flares the white of her eyes into a bloodshot red, while the irises themselves darken to a cold, monotone black. Pearly incisors extend as a Viper's, about an inch longer than a regular humans, and if she isn't careful, she could easily pierce her delicate human tongue. Rather than human ears on the side of her face, Vida's ears are very Umbreon, the rings a dull yellow until the night, where they radiate extravagantly, making the wary girl a beacon to all others for miles around. Her Umbreon tail is similar in this aspect, and rings formerly not present establish themselves in the night air, one around her eyes, two on her hips, two on her elbows, and two on her upper thighs. Her skin is pallid, colorless to the point of looking sickly, and her chapped lips are camoflauged perfectly against her skin. Why this is isn't easily understood, why she didn't obtain any of her Pokemon's color, but the qaulity is still the same. Poor, for it is highly vulnerable to sunlight, which, instead of defensively being reflected by ebony fur, is battered and ravaged as a freak of nature, promoting awful burns instantaneously. Her approximate height is 5'4', her weight being a little hefty at 120 pounds due to thick bone structure and honed muscles, despite her Skeleton-like appearance.
Outfit/ Accessories: Vida's outfit isn't anything to boast. Being raised in a "PuppyMill" sort of place more of less, she was given the same generic shapeless gray Dungaree jumper as every other female Pokemorph born to the place, without even being granted the decency of a shirt. Upon her ballistic and desperate escaping of the ramshackle facilities that housing her latest and final fight, Vida immediately discarded the clothes that reeked of her own sweat and perseverance, for one the clothes were fitted for the final time to her developed body, they hadn't been taken off of her to wash. Able to speak both the human and Pokemon tongues due to her mixed ethnicity, Vida was approached by a Murkrow. The Murkrow, having his keen eye on the shiny thing around her neck, which was nothing more than a copper nameplate on a metallic chain stating the number, her number, stated by how many others had been born on the "Farm" before her, which had been a nuisance to her anyways, as her feeble fingers couldn't pry it apart, it had been made that way. The Murkrow, seeking the trinket for his own stash of shinies, offered to take it off her hands, but Vida was smarter than that. She realized she could make a bargain, everybody wanted something, surely Pokemon were no different. The Murkrow begrudginly offered his services to obtain her some proper garments, which she knew to survive, she would inevitably have to have. She couldn't make a living off spending the rest of her days as a heathen in the bush, after all, she was still partial human. Nor would she want to. She sought change, and rebellion. The Murkrow brought her back what he thought would suit a girl like her, generous for him. Fitting her with a Strapless tight black shirt, it is otherwise significant save for two spiraling vertical twist of yellow lace, beginning at the same location at the bottom of the garment, and branching out up her body. For hot days, when the sun is sweltering and beating down unforgivingly, she spots a tight leather zip-up jacket, the collar able to be risen and zipped up as well, or pinned down. The jacket is unique in that stitched on it, as an afterthought, opposing the sinister nature of the jacket entirely, is a ring of Pokemon dancing in merriment; A laughing Eevee, A reluctant Chimchar, a grinning Totodile, a delighted Mudkip, and an impatient-looking Treecko. Her skirt fall to lower-thigh, and for convenience, is pleated for as to give her more room to explre of forage, and is a plain black and yellow plaid pattern. The underside is fitted with a layer of gauze, and this is more for decor than practicality. Her stockings are knee-length, and black and yellow ringed, and calf-length black leather boots. Her clothes aren't dark due to a morbid nature, the Murkrow realized just as much as the girl that she would need clothes, as a dark type, much like black feather or fur, to repel the sun. Later, as a bit of girlish indlugence, she snagged a ruby choker from a Marketplace, when the Vendor wasn't paying attention. This is the only object gracing her entire body that doesn't have an ulterior purpose, and is more of a sad desire for the ashen girl to feel pretty. The beads comprising the object are the colors of her irises, and besides the yellow splatters on her stockings, skirt, and hidden shirt, that have actual color. A black canvas pack hangs off of one shoulder to contain whatever items of use or value she finds on her raids. When the sun is particularly bright, she has a simple pair of Black Shades, which oddly enough, seem to amplify her dark powers to almost normal in the sunlight, and if she chances to wear them at night, as ridiculous as it looks, makes them twice as powerful as ordinarily.
Personality: Not the cast-off pessimist or Anti-social you would expect her to be, Vida is actually pretty suave, at least for an outcast you would expect to be seething with bitterness and hatred. You could say that, plagued by memories, Vida, in a stretch of a trance has completely metamorphisized into someone guarded, and cautious of giving her own emotions away, for she knows too well the miserable consequences she could find herself in if she let too much be revealed, but is also aware of how they could aid her, a mastermind in the art of the bluff. Not to say that Vida's words cannot be backed up with raw force, for, descending from a pure line of EV bred fighters, she boasts fine precision with severing the vital lifepoints as well as skill, muscle constructed from years of unrest and mindless fighting. Her mind, warped by the trauma of shedding buckets of blood and gore, unfortunately of her own kind in filthy, sweltering dirt arenas oftentimes portrays a thing as worse than actrually is, so as to allow the girl to mount her defenses up in record time. Part of her defense program is a silver, yet highly venomous tongue, one that can talk its way practically out of anything, fueled by a Steele-trap mind waiting to go off at the opportune moment. Fighting is second nature to Vida, and so, if she appears as ruthless and quick to engage in physical altercations, it must be understood that this is all she knows, peace a dreamed-up secuirty blanket for simpletons, for, as of now, she must believe that, due to the cold nature of the world, progress only yields to sacrifice and bloodshed, until the minority becomes the majority. Seeing Pokemorph after Pokemorph be brought to their knees shaking, and vomiting their own internal gore up has honed Vida's range to a fine point, a blade she feels necessary to drive through humanity, the provokers of Pokemorph fighting, so as to liberate every suffering Pokemorph bred and raised as she, but more importantly and privately, to provide herself with a sense of accomplishment, release from the guilt of the deaths driven by her own hands, of which she dreams of every moment her rustic eyes are closed. In the rare case that someone appeals to an untainted part of her partially-sane mind, Vida proves a loyal and valuable companion, fighting passionately to the death if need be for their safety and happiness, though this has never happened, having her fall unwittingly into the greedy hands of humans wishing to use her adnormalities for their own personal gain. She is oblivious to this, and, when she lets her heart become involved, is easily duped, and so, realizingthis as her downfall, Vida safeguards emotions carefully.
History: Some would claim the theory that it is better for a blind man to have been born sightless, so as he would never truly understand or lament for what he was missing, rather than lose sights bit by bit. And so, to certain fellows, Vida's story would've been an insignificant one, and rather a curiosity. For her tale began long before her own birth, to the dawn of the Pokemorph era, where these marvelous creature combinations were formed, quite a few Eevee morphs littered the regions, mass-produced for their special potential to evolve into one of seven powerful Pokemon. The first Eevee morphs were purchased discreetly by a large company owner, who, incidentally, had been involved in the Pokemon smuggling industry. Facilities formerly used to house, fight, and mass-bred Canine-like Pokemon such as Houndoom, Mightyena, Arcanine, and, of course, the Eevee-lutions were cleared of the Pokemon for a much more entertaining and ghastly spectacle: Pokemorph fighting. The company owner, a Mr. Rupert Vandecamp, had set aside the unamed and unknown facilities for his one pride and joy, a sniveling snot-nosed brat of a middle-aged man who, in stereotypical fashion, took out vengeance for exclusion on the weaker creatures at his mercy. He became dedicated to pumping out Eevee Human pups, deciding to focus on this one type, and, depending on Individual values, would evolve them accordingly. If Individual Values didn't match up to nature, or the Individual Values were just horrible all around, the newborn babe would simply be taken to the Chop-block, and ground into the rancid mash fed once a day to the remaining morphs, not only for convenience, but to help promote a lusting for blood in the morphs. Occaisionally, an oddly-colored baby would be born, and that one would immediately be whisked away to be fetched for a high price in a shop. Vida fancies herself as the unluckiest of the three. Best case scenario would've been that she was born scenario. Worst? That she, despite being a female typically kept for breeding only in their rarity would have near-perfect Individual Values of an Umbreon, paired with an incredible nature tossed from her original broodmare position to be slung through grueling, hadening training to mold her into the ferocious instinctive beast her master wished her to become. Quite a rarity in gender itself, Vida was fought sparingly, while she was growing up never put into anything to harsh that would grant her instant death, as they relished the day that she would pass on her genetics to offspring of her own. And as the fights were to the death, the Vandecamps did everything in their power to keep Vida maintained, fed properly, starved to enhance aggressiveness days before a match, kept her in isolation and solitary confinement, save for a single individual, her younger sister who boasted similar impressive Individual values and nature, only for an Umbreon. These two were only allowed contact after, at the age of seven, Vida attempted suicide. She would've rather been one on the chop block. Beat savagely, and exercised compulsively, Vida was never one neglected, but instead, over exhausted and exerted. Before a match against an outer species, Vida would be faced with several tiny Eevee morph toddlers. She would be recorded on how fast she could execute each babe, and then sized up on massacreing the babes as a whole, and, for refusal or failure to reach records, her precious little sister was whipped. Over the years, the original easygoing and lax nature subsided into a cold and calculative one suited for battle, sympathy or hesitation would be her little sister's downfall. But Vida, despite all these obsticles and heart-wrenching hardships, always found a way to pull through, reminding herself that in their lowly dingy little cell, would wait her dear sister, and the two, despite their location, the lonely howls of others forced into isolation, snarls of cagemates fighting over food, the squalling of the babes hauled off to the Chop block, dreamed together, talked about breaking away, talked about starting a life together, talked about life ambitions- Vida, a witty young girl, had thoughtfully wanted to be a Doctor. Instead, due to traits unseen by the naked eye, she was raised as a heartless fighter. One day, when both girls, Vida and her little sister, were nearing ten years of age, she and Vida were placed into a double battle, for the first time in the history of their creation, pitted against their weaknesses. A smirking Monferno Morph awaited Vida, and for her sister, a Murkrow morph. Vida, without giving it much thought, leapt brashfully into the fight, cutting and tearing without giving it too much thought as she always had, but something peculiar occured with her sister. Amaya, on noticing the blood-driven beast her caring older sister had become once having stepped foot on the dirt floor, had withdrawn into herself, refusing to watch herself succumb to the same bestial pulls, to the booings of the human ground. As Vida single-handedly ravaged both the Infernape and the Murkrow to shreds, reeking of Pokemon and Human blood both, and exhausted for lack of her own, Amaya still refused to partake, wrecked and shaken at seeing her sister so.. barbaric. Vida passed out from sheer exhaustion, and when she awoke, she awoke alone in her rank cell, never to set sights on the one thing precious to her in the entire world. Depressed and ransacked of any ounce of emotion now, Vida retreated painfully into herself, refusing food, refusing drink, until she was deteriorating, both emaciated and dehydrated. And so she was gifted with a new friend. Wary of him at first, it wasn't such a long time before Vida embraced her new companion, Everett, a similar Umbreon morph, with open arms and heart. Like her, he was both intelligent and clever, with a tongue capable of snaring some major barbs. They offered th other what little insight and love from their fragmented hearts they could offer. And gradually, inevitably, the two smitten teens became lovers. A mistake ensued when, Herold Vandecamp, the new owner of both Eevee mill and facilities, wanted two representations of his thriving Farm to demonstrate in front of his extended family at a family reunion. Vida and Everett were about as beautiful and similar as they got, Everett, with his hair the color of Raven feathers, and Vida, her hair a fine ebony, and matching Ruby eyes and he was convinced would make a beautiful display. The two, so tragically in love, though, made a fool of Harold Vandecamp, as the two flat out refused to fight, and even announced their love, and pleading wish of emancipation from him. Instead, he took a two by four to Vida's head instead to reinstate his power, and threatened to kill her if they didn't fight. Infuriated, Everett lunged for Harold Vandecamp, to ravage him and hospitalize him for a good few weeks. Everyone inside the loop of the Eevee mill whispered about what he would do once he returned from rehabilitation, and soon, he made it clear. He couldn't have simply just shot Everett, instead, in a crude surgical procedure, he gouged his eyes out, and faced him against an unsuspecting and gagged Vida. Confused and disoriented with the many smells of the arena, Everett, by a smirking Harold, was told that if he could kill the Morph opposing him blind, he would release he and Vida together. Unaware that he WAS facing Vida, Everett attacked, unleashing legions of fury and hatred accumulated from the pompous human race on his incapacitated lover, immobilized by her love for him. She would've died, and would've willingly for him, had bestial instinct not kicked in, and sent her into hyperactive overdrive. Her overstimulated body surrendering to a newer, more despicable level of consciousness, she easily executed the blinded Everett. When she came to, Vida was stained in her own and her lover's blood, while, in his final dying moments, draped uselessly and discardedly across her lap, Everett gasped for air, crying into her chest, finally realizing the awful truth, that he had damaged the one he had only sought to protect. Vida's eyes welled with heart-wrenching tears, and she couldn't offer solace, or even bid him a sorrowful farewell, for she was bound and gagged. She could only see when he could not, he thinking that she didn't care, and she knowing she did, but unable to express it. He died as carrion, stripped and left to rot behind the training barns. Not that Vida would know, for, as fatigued as she was, when led muzzled back to her cage, in a final burst of adrenaline and defiance, she broke away fiercely, in her lover's name ripping her own handler's throat out with bare teeth, and, while he lay choking, making a dash for the high fences surrounding the properties, cutting and scarring herself even more horribly before by plunging through intertwined layers of electric barbed wire. In a daze from Everett's death, and that she had, without orders taken a life, Vida swore revenge on Everett, on Amaya who, in her pureness, had been carted away or killed similarly, and devoted herself to getting to the rebellion. Before the rebellion summoned her, Vida had taken up residency in Goldenrod city, why, she wasn't sure, but felt a sort of nostalgia, as this was the kind of place she and Amaya had dreamed of exploring together, two curious little girls, though she had never witnessed such a peaceful or beautiful environment in her life. Vida awaits the signal from her leader, and, as Everett did, and Amaya did, is ready, if necessary, to give her own life to pave the way for future Pokemorphs to live in a free and equal world to humans.
Roleplay sample: (My first post will be in goldenrod city, and will, in part, first be described by GP. We've planned these posts out, and so i'm allowing her bunnying of Vida. When she gets her post up, that's when i'll begin my first one. ^^; Thanks for being so understanding, Zeta.) My favorite post to this day.. vvvvvvvvv
I've never felt so dirty.. and wrong.. in my entire life. Radian thought, as Torrent threw her over his shoulder, knowing full and well that if he set her down, she wouldn't follow despite anything he said to her, no matter how many times Groudon roared and fired attacks, nor how many times she was burned in the process. She would keep fighting until they were both safe, or else dead. Radian took in the sight of the little Totodile standing bravely up against both Leon and Groudon, for as long as she could, heart wrenching with obvious despair as a tiny spirnkle began falling over her friend and his two nemises, the sky clouding over and turning utterly grey, the grey hue matching the color of her mood, and her sould completely. Soon, she was unable even to see the three Pokemon, and this made her feel even worse, because now, if Marc fell, he would fall alone, and not anywhere near her.. He really would be in grave danger.
Why did I agree to ever leave him? She wondered, before the thought struck her.
That's right.. I didn't agree. That's probably why he didn't bother to ask me.. He knew that if he did, I would refuse.. I would stay and fight.. Like a true friend.. I would never do this to him.. I would never abandon him like this.. not if it were up to me.. The tears only fell harder now, as Radian flashed briefly back to the night before.
I'm not letting go of you, Radian. No matter what comes our way..
Radian stared back in the direction she was being carried, tears dripping from her chin and rolling in a steady stream down Torrent's shell. She saw his shy little smile, and his soft words penetrating her fatigued mind..
If we're together.. everything is going to be okay..
"You're right.." Radian murmured aloud, shifting suddenly in Torrent's arms. His grip tightened on her tiny form, yet wasn't enough to keep the little Eevee bound, as she struggled but for a brief second, and instantly broke free from his grip. A mischevious little grin popped up across her furry little face, and darting quickly away from the Turtle, Radian began to head quickly back in the direction she had been drug from.
"Wait!" Torrent called out, attempting to call her back over. But as expected, his words had no effect on the tiny Eevee who by now was deaf to any words besides those of Marc's, and had her whole heart and body set on getting to him. Torrent sighed, simply just shaking his head, as he turned from Radian, who by now was just flash of blazing brown fur glinting in the distance, and moved toward Steam Cave along with all the others. As Radian raced back towards Marc, the tears continued to fall from her golden eyes, but no longer did she feel scared, and unsure. She ran over countless twigs and sharp stones, but not even the intense penetration of these insignificant objects was enough to distract her from achieving her goal.
"You said, if we're together.. everything is okay." Radian stated aloud, her shoulders stiffening as her lungs began to grow raw from the running, her heart pumping furiously to keep her going. Radian ignored all this though, willing herself on, able to think only of Marc, and what he might be going through at this exact moment.
"So you meant, of course, the inverse as well! If we're apart, then nothing's okay, right? Which is why.." Radian paused in her self-coversation to pant, and then catch her breath. "Which is why.. i'm coming back. We will.. be together soon enough!" As Radian finished saying this, Marc and Leon came back into her view, but for some reason Groudon was absent from the picture. Radian had no time to ponder this though, as in no time at all, she was approaching Marc, and fast. Maybe.. Yes definitely, too fast. As she attempted to skid to a halt right before him, Radian found her forelegs becoming entangled within her hindlegs, and clumsily, she founding herself rolling into a little brown ball of fur, tumbling about before colliding into Marc's stout little body. Toppling over onto him, Radian could just grin ecstatically from atop him, panting wildly as she smiled from ear to ear, her head falling blissfully atop his own. Trying to catch her breath as it escaped her in ragged little gasps, Radian inched her body forward, pressing her lips to Marc's ear as she whispered into it.
"You thought you'd try to be the hero while we all ran away like pansies, huh Marc? Well think again.. i'm a heroine at heart, and I'm not going to let you get away with all the attention.. and glory that comes with it. So from now on, we'll fight together, okay? No more trying to be all big and macho and sacrifice yourself to protect me.. and the others..We're all a team, remember?" As she said this, Radian found herself unable to go on, her heart pounding too wildly within her frail chest, and simply just lay against her friend, savoring the contact, no matter how brief it might be.
