- 20
- Posts
- 16
- Years
- Age 34
- Seen Apr 23, 2009
I've finished my profile, but I need to have 15 posts here before I can post it. I pasted my sample, so it's holding me to the url rule. : /
Edit: Added it in.
RP Sample:
Edit: Added it in.
Name: Kail Collin Grey
Age: On the tale end of eighteen.
Gender: Male.
Appearance:
[FONT=Arial,Helvetica]Kail is someone who's nature leeks outwards into his appearance, making it so one could look at him and get a general grasp of his disposition. Everything about the shape of his face and the tilt of his expressions make him look soft, the kind of person who you'd be able to make fun of without consequences. Though this is true to a point, the very rare expressions of anger he has are sharp enough to deter most people from repeating the behavior twice.
His eyes are a honey-hued brown, framed with thick lashes. They're very similar in color to his hair, though the latter is a bit darker dark. His hair is also rather long for a guy, with it reaching his chin in front and getting gradually longer as it goes back. It's doubtlessly Kail's biggest vanity, being the one thing about his appearance he puts daily effort into. Because of his careful care the strands are never dried out, greasy, or split. His teachers and parents used to express their wish that Kail put as much effort into his homework as he does to his hair.
His skin leans very slightly to the fairer side instead of the darker one. Even if he has frequent access to the sun (during accidental outdoor naps and such) it result in painful burns rather than tanning. The one time he managed to actually get a tan, he looked rather dreadful with it. It was simply too close to the brown of his hair color.
Standing slightly taller than average for a boy, his build is would be considered lanky. This willowy look causes him to look more fit for dance or gymnastics than adventuring.
His appearance changes dramatically whenever he uses the manaphy pin. In fact, his entire structure changes to something a bit swishy and blue. Everything, his hair, skin, and eyes, turn blue and slightly see-through. A large red stone appears on his chest, proportionately where his heart is. Two strange, tentacle-like things sprout from the top of his skull, and he can use these like an extra set of limbs.
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[FONT=Arial,Helvetica]Kail is someone who's nature leeks outwards into his appearance, making it so one could look at him and get a general grasp of his disposition. Everything about the shape of his face and the tilt of his expressions make him look soft, the kind of person who you'd be able to make fun of without consequences. Though this is true to a point, the very rare expressions of anger he has are sharp enough to deter most people from repeating the behavior twice.
His eyes are a honey-hued brown, framed with thick lashes. They're very similar in color to his hair, though the latter is a bit darker dark. His hair is also rather long for a guy, with it reaching his chin in front and getting gradually longer as it goes back. It's doubtlessly Kail's biggest vanity, being the one thing about his appearance he puts daily effort into. Because of his careful care the strands are never dried out, greasy, or split. His teachers and parents used to express their wish that Kail put as much effort into his homework as he does to his hair.
His skin leans very slightly to the fairer side instead of the darker one. Even if he has frequent access to the sun (during accidental outdoor naps and such) it result in painful burns rather than tanning. The one time he managed to actually get a tan, he looked rather dreadful with it. It was simply too close to the brown of his hair color.
Standing slightly taller than average for a boy, his build is would be considered lanky. This willowy look causes him to look more fit for dance or gymnastics than adventuring.
His appearance changes dramatically whenever he uses the manaphy pin. In fact, his entire structure changes to something a bit swishy and blue. Everything, his hair, skin, and eyes, turn blue and slightly see-through. A large red stone appears on his chest, proportionately where his heart is. Two strange, tentacle-like things sprout from the top of his skull, and he can use these like an extra set of limbs.
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Personality: [FONT=Arial,Helvetica]Mellow would be the best word to describe Kail. He's more than willing to let the world zoom by while he's lazily drifting through life. His laid back nature borders on the edge of laziness quite often, not exactly a good trait for a trainer to have. Certainly, he could become serious if he wanted to, but where's the fun in that? There are plenty of other people more than willing to walk the rigid line, and if things are being taken care of by others, why should he do the same? That's his logic at least. Trying to persuade him otherwise is rather pointless, as he's so relaxed that most insults fly right over his head. I believe the term 'useless' has been used by most when describing him to others. Well, that is, they generally use it until they see him actually work…
[/FONT][FONT=Arial,Helvetica]On the rare occasions when he's really needed instead of wanted, he seems to flick on a switch labeled 'intense'. Nothing can sway his attention in this mood, and he'll take on all of his duties diligently. Though not really stoic to a high degree, when he's like that, his face muscles don't see much use. He becomes your average stick in the mud until the need for him wears off, then he reverts easily to his good natured self.
[/FONT][FONT=Arial,Helvetica]Kail himself would like to be called a 'free thinker', but it's been quoted by others as 'day dreamer.' He has a bad habit of staring off into space for long periods of time, often starting in the middle of a conversation. It tends to be a bit infuriating to the speaker, but he never really means it to make a point. He simply zones out a lot, and has trouble paying attention to mundane things. When he was younger, he'd always get lost because of this, and end up randomly wondering far away before snapping out of it. As far as dispositions go, Kail is kind to nearly everyone, even while battling. [/FONT][FONT=Arial,Helvetica]All of this would make him seem like a doormat or pushover, and, to some extent, he is. However, he'll only accept a certain amount of of torment before firmly ending through physical or vocal means. [/FONT]
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[/FONT][FONT=Arial,Helvetica]On the rare occasions when he's really needed instead of wanted, he seems to flick on a switch labeled 'intense'. Nothing can sway his attention in this mood, and he'll take on all of his duties diligently. Though not really stoic to a high degree, when he's like that, his face muscles don't see much use. He becomes your average stick in the mud until the need for him wears off, then he reverts easily to his good natured self.
[/FONT][FONT=Arial,Helvetica]Kail himself would like to be called a 'free thinker', but it's been quoted by others as 'day dreamer.' He has a bad habit of staring off into space for long periods of time, often starting in the middle of a conversation. It tends to be a bit infuriating to the speaker, but he never really means it to make a point. He simply zones out a lot, and has trouble paying attention to mundane things. When he was younger, he'd always get lost because of this, and end up randomly wondering far away before snapping out of it. As far as dispositions go, Kail is kind to nearly everyone, even while battling. [/FONT][FONT=Arial,Helvetica]All of this would make him seem like a doormat or pushover, and, to some extent, he is. However, he'll only accept a certain amount of of torment before firmly ending through physical or vocal means. [/FONT]
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History: [FONT=Arial,Helvetica]Born one winter day into an aristocratic upper class family, Kail Collin Grey was doomed to the life of the nova-rich. Sure, this really doesn't seem like a bad thing, but truthfully, he would have been much happier with a lower social class. Kail was under pressure to be successful since birth. Special classes were thrust upon him very early. When the other children were busy making macaroni art and finger painting, he was going through dance routines and music scales. Having to attend the 'forced smile' parties since the age of five, he learned the brittle polite manners expected of someone his status. His life was jam packed with private lessons, and his fingers were practically worn to the bone with violin practice. Kail never really enjoyed any of those classes, being much too laid back to remain motivated for long. Luckily for Kail, his parents soon had a second child to steal their attention away from him. They relaxed their tight grip over his life, allowing him to wheedle them into letting him start his own pokemon journey at the age of twelve.
Without a professor to give him his very first pokemon, Kail went alone for a while, trying and failing to capture a pokemon all by himself. Luckily for him, a traveler noticed his struggles and offered to trade him one of his weaker pokemon in exchange for him to help gather a few rare berries he needed for poffins. After scrounging non stop for said berries, Kail was rewarded with a young Riolu. So, finally partnered up with a pokemon, the young boy set off on an adventure.
As far as trainers went, Kail was generally a good one. Though his own laid-back lazy-ness posed as a hindrance for the pace of him challenging gyms and other trainers, Kail's six year journey was going remarkably well until an untimely accident. He was battling another trainer's Steelix with his own Lucario when a badly aimed rock-slide effectively ended Kails life. Being crushed under a ton of boulders was not a very pleasant way to die.
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Without a professor to give him his very first pokemon, Kail went alone for a while, trying and failing to capture a pokemon all by himself. Luckily for him, a traveler noticed his struggles and offered to trade him one of his weaker pokemon in exchange for him to help gather a few rare berries he needed for poffins. After scrounging non stop for said berries, Kail was rewarded with a young Riolu. So, finally partnered up with a pokemon, the young boy set off on an adventure.
As far as trainers went, Kail was generally a good one. Though his own laid-back lazy-ness posed as a hindrance for the pace of him challenging gyms and other trainers, Kail's six year journey was going remarkably well until an untimely accident. He was battling another trainer's Steelix with his own Lucario when a badly aimed rock-slide effectively ended Kails life. Being crushed under a ton of boulders was not a very pleasant way to die.
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Entry Fee: If you would have asked Kail what the most important thing in his life was before, he probably would have given you a goof-ball answer. However, deep down and to the core, Kail cared most about his memories and adventures with Lucario. After all, he was his first real friend and partner. The times he spent with him were the best moments of his life. So now, even though he retains most of his memories, there is a blank where Lucario should be.
Spirit: Manaphy
Partner Pins: Lucario. Kail doesn't remember anything about him, so he's confused why Lucario is even on the team.
Raichu. A pokemon he raised from a Pichu.
Raichu. A pokemon he raised from a Pichu.
Spoiler:
Sophia flattened her bangs nervously, readjusting the pearl headdress for what must have been the hundredth time that night. Like everything else at the ball, the bathrooms were splendidly decorated. Some interior designer, who doubtlessly understood the female mind, had lined the walls with ornate mirrors. Sophia was merely one of the many women standing in front of one, touching up the wear and tear that dancing had on one's appearance. She narrowed her eyes at her reflection, noting the dark shadows underneath them that her make-up couldn't quite cover. At one time, this would have irritated her to no end, yet now she felt it gave a hollow outcry to the grief she felt. Was there really a point to looking perfect anymore? All of the vanity and prepping she had done in the past felt shallow now. In fact, it was only habit that prompted the Moon to smoothly reapply anything that had gotten tussled. She blinked at herself, straitening the long white evening gown that contrasted sharply to her black hair. "There. Stunning." She muttered flatly to her reflection, and she eyed the now empty glass of wine sitting on the opaque sink. Generally she wasn't much of a drinker, but the wine had helped drown a bit of the older and more addicting urge she felt to calm her nerves. When she was younger she'd had free use of opium, and it was hard to resist the pangs she felt to cover her stress, though she'd been off it for years. The Sun had made her quit cold turkey back then, and crawling back into it's relaxing clutches would be dark stain against losing him.
It was a horrible thing, but all of the pleasant memories of him seemed to be buried under the scene of his death. Sophia had woken up with the horrible feeling of being lost, cut lose from obit to float swiftly out into the empty cosmos. She'd stumbled around without being able to obtain balance until she'd realized the banging on her door wasn't the sound of her frantic heart. The Moon had staggered over to see the Chariot's face as white and drawn as hers doubtlessly was. "It's Aiden isn't it?" Of course. The Sun, Moon, and Chariot were connected. Sophia guessed he must be feeling the same jarring gap she herself found to be spreading under her skin. In the panic, the ride to his front door had taken an instant, and Flynn literally knocking down the door had saved Sophia the bruises she would have garnered by trying to do it herself. The image of her dear friend's corpse rose into the woman's mind, and she hastily tipped the wine cup to her lips to get the last few drops near the bottom. Death had robbed him of his warmth, the inner was fire snuffed. She'd gone blank, shock freezing her into a catatonic state. She'd hardly noticed Flynn taking her home, or moving at all. It took hours for the truth to sink in, and then the screaming began. It was hard to even realize she must have been alarming Flynn at the time, as the only end she was able to bring her hysterics was sleep forced from exhaustion.
The Moon gave herself another quick and critical look before turning back and stepping gracefully back onto the dance hall. She left the empty glass inside, confident that a servant would probably have it out of the room before she herself could grab another full cup. Sophia glanced around at all the people in their finery, with a very slight over-whelmed feeling. Though she'd been a court member for eight years, the noble life still felt a bit strange for her. She'd much rather be at one of her little town's festivals, for all she played the part of a shining socialite. If the times had been less dangerous, Sophia might have even pulled some strings to get her family invitations. It would be worth having to hover protectively around them just to see her mothers fussing and father's awe at the elaborate clothes most young noble's donned. But now, she wanted her family as far away from the court as could be managed. The woman didn't feel like losing anyone else important to her.
Sophia was a hypocrite. She'd often mumbled about her dislike of fake smiles, yet she forced one onto her face. She'd play the part of a noble, no matter how empty she felt behind that mask. Ignoring the pinch her too-high heels caused on her ankles, she swept grandly into the crowds, purposely keeping herself away from the wine bearers. Getting drunk was the last thing she'd need, no matter how tempting the thought was. The Moon looked around, seeing if she could spot the one friend in the court she had left. However, since Flynn's height made him instantly recognizable, she had to guess he was running late. Her gaze did however, catch the Hanged Man. Though generally the had very little to do with each other, Sophia felt a strong surge of suspicion.
What if it was him? She couldn't trust any of the other counsel members fully. Could he have snuck the spider in her beloved friend's room? To be truthfull, she doubted it. Still the nagging thought held her back long enough for a wine bearer to come within her reach. Impulsively, she grabbed a glass and downed it. The server's eyes were amused as she placed the empty thing down and grabbed another to sip. He grinned impishly, probably amused by the thought of drunken nobles. At one time, Sophia would have batted her eyelashes at the man and tempted him to slip in a couple drinks himself, but that fire inside her had been snuffed. Instead she just gave an ironic smile before turning back to face the crowd.
Movement near the entrance caused Sophia to look around. There was her friend the Chariot, looking slightly disheveled and awkward as always in social events. With a mental note to maybe talk to Sariel later that night, the Moon slid through the crowds to stand at Flynn's side. Even with with shoes that brought her to a high 6', she felt dwarfed. Long ago, this had bugged her, as the Moon had a bit of a complex on being taller then everyone else, but she'd grown used to it over the years. The woman reached up and pulled out the leaf he had missed from his hair, chuckling. "What's the excuse this time?" She asked playfully. She'd go among the other council members later to form alliances and inquiries. For now, however, she felt like putting it behind her. This hope was dashed a bit whenever she noticed Gwendolyn. Should she slip away now? She probably couldn't without it looking rude.
Sophia would save the seriousness for later, with the hope that the wine wouldn't dull her senses.
It was a horrible thing, but all of the pleasant memories of him seemed to be buried under the scene of his death. Sophia had woken up with the horrible feeling of being lost, cut lose from obit to float swiftly out into the empty cosmos. She'd stumbled around without being able to obtain balance until she'd realized the banging on her door wasn't the sound of her frantic heart. The Moon had staggered over to see the Chariot's face as white and drawn as hers doubtlessly was. "It's Aiden isn't it?" Of course. The Sun, Moon, and Chariot were connected. Sophia guessed he must be feeling the same jarring gap she herself found to be spreading under her skin. In the panic, the ride to his front door had taken an instant, and Flynn literally knocking down the door had saved Sophia the bruises she would have garnered by trying to do it herself. The image of her dear friend's corpse rose into the woman's mind, and she hastily tipped the wine cup to her lips to get the last few drops near the bottom. Death had robbed him of his warmth, the inner was fire snuffed. She'd gone blank, shock freezing her into a catatonic state. She'd hardly noticed Flynn taking her home, or moving at all. It took hours for the truth to sink in, and then the screaming began. It was hard to even realize she must have been alarming Flynn at the time, as the only end she was able to bring her hysterics was sleep forced from exhaustion.
The Moon gave herself another quick and critical look before turning back and stepping gracefully back onto the dance hall. She left the empty glass inside, confident that a servant would probably have it out of the room before she herself could grab another full cup. Sophia glanced around at all the people in their finery, with a very slight over-whelmed feeling. Though she'd been a court member for eight years, the noble life still felt a bit strange for her. She'd much rather be at one of her little town's festivals, for all she played the part of a shining socialite. If the times had been less dangerous, Sophia might have even pulled some strings to get her family invitations. It would be worth having to hover protectively around them just to see her mothers fussing and father's awe at the elaborate clothes most young noble's donned. But now, she wanted her family as far away from the court as could be managed. The woman didn't feel like losing anyone else important to her.
Sophia was a hypocrite. She'd often mumbled about her dislike of fake smiles, yet she forced one onto her face. She'd play the part of a noble, no matter how empty she felt behind that mask. Ignoring the pinch her too-high heels caused on her ankles, she swept grandly into the crowds, purposely keeping herself away from the wine bearers. Getting drunk was the last thing she'd need, no matter how tempting the thought was. The Moon looked around, seeing if she could spot the one friend in the court she had left. However, since Flynn's height made him instantly recognizable, she had to guess he was running late. Her gaze did however, catch the Hanged Man. Though generally the had very little to do with each other, Sophia felt a strong surge of suspicion.
What if it was him? She couldn't trust any of the other counsel members fully. Could he have snuck the spider in her beloved friend's room? To be truthfull, she doubted it. Still the nagging thought held her back long enough for a wine bearer to come within her reach. Impulsively, she grabbed a glass and downed it. The server's eyes were amused as she placed the empty thing down and grabbed another to sip. He grinned impishly, probably amused by the thought of drunken nobles. At one time, Sophia would have batted her eyelashes at the man and tempted him to slip in a couple drinks himself, but that fire inside her had been snuffed. Instead she just gave an ironic smile before turning back to face the crowd.
Movement near the entrance caused Sophia to look around. There was her friend the Chariot, looking slightly disheveled and awkward as always in social events. With a mental note to maybe talk to Sariel later that night, the Moon slid through the crowds to stand at Flynn's side. Even with with shoes that brought her to a high 6', she felt dwarfed. Long ago, this had bugged her, as the Moon had a bit of a complex on being taller then everyone else, but she'd grown used to it over the years. The woman reached up and pulled out the leaf he had missed from his hair, chuckling. "What's the excuse this time?" She asked playfully. She'd go among the other council members later to form alliances and inquiries. For now, however, she felt like putting it behind her. This hope was dashed a bit whenever she noticed Gwendolyn. Should she slip away now? She probably couldn't without it looking rude.
Sophia would save the seriousness for later, with the hope that the wine wouldn't dull her senses.
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