Éclair'z Lovely Little Characterz

[Éclair]

Name: Orxler

Species: Gligar

Age: Adult

Sex: Male

Lvl.: 5

Description: Apart from being a few inches shorter than what would be considered typical for his species, Orxler is pretty much standard in physique and coloration to the everyday common Gligar. Due to his lanky figure, he was often referred to as ‘stilts’ by the neighboring residents where he previously lived, regardless that his true stature is not one to be too ecstatic about: standing a mere 3’04” in height and easily outweighed by most (but he takes pride in his lack of outward muscle tone). He’s a little thinner about the stomach, however, with a light pinkish tinge in the pigmentation of his skin. And he's exceedingly agile on his toes despite the fact he’s more equipped for scaling cliff faces and gliding rather than sprinting over tracks of land (in which he usually falls after making every eighteen feet or so). He also seems to relish in the fact that his tongue is about half the size of his head, so he is often seen with it draping from his jaws at frequent and random times of the day, especially while running/tripping.

Personality: Orxler is an extroverted and spunky young wayfarer of very few morals, none of which may be condoned in the eyes of Pokémon society in this day and age, but he doesn't heed the legal system much either way. Audacity is an understatement and a near insult when associating with the foolhardy little Gligar. He acts on his own accord and blatantly depicts himself as an “Adonis among mortals”: making himself out to be one of superior intelligence and capacity when in what is fact, he somehow manages to make a fool of himself whenever he tries his hardest to be classy. He demands respect even if he doesn't return it, and his arrogance seems limitless: a downfall to his generally optimistic personality that would even put a Chansey to shame. Most prominent in his overall trend to be a blockhead is his adamancy to demoralize those he encounters, and provoke them seemingly all for the profit of being loathed for his actions: though he usually realizes when it’s gone too far and stops himself before someone’s level of self-esteem is razed to the ground. Orxler tends to use his innate charisma as a bridge for certain occasions, and has a silver tongue tucked away and ready for his usage when the time arises to stoop to verbal offense. Thankfully there is a better side to this two-faced coin, though. He has a big heart when he wants it, which is a rarity in itself and a sense of virtue even if he seems the type to turn tail and run away from an unsavory situation. Fomenting he is not and he finds no true reason to engage another in a physical brawl unless something precious is stolen from him. Orxler can also be considered a bit enigmatic at times, too. The offhanded Gligar’s proper way of conversing with others includes lighthearted insults and pranks, sure to amuse any crowd, and maybe tickle the victim a bit if they're not too piqued already. He's a notorious brand of flirt when he wishes, and surprisingly amongst all other attributes, a first-rate spelunker with a fixation for discovery. Along with a resourceful flair in the explorations of subterranean complexes, he seems to have a profound knack for searching out and identifying various minerals and precious stones (though he isn’t much a craver for riches.)

History: Growing up in the remote cliff-faces of a rocky foothill in the Western Mountains, Orxler lived the moderately serene lifestyle of his near-pureblood Gligar lineage--his great great-grandmother was a Drapion, but that was about the only lapse in their ancestry. He shared the affections of his Gliscor parents with one other sibling: a twin sister. Mifflin was quite a handful in the family, and being the eldest born of the twosome, Orxler didn't engage in her reckless misbehavior. Instead, he chose to desert whatever ill-behaved antics he might have had at the time and made himself caretaker over his sibling whenever their parents were absent, herding her back to safety when she either got out of hand or strayed too far from the safety zone. In spite of their close bond, the pair developed separate aspirations in life as they continued to grow, being exposed to one thing or the other: in due course, Mifflin ended up leaving their home prematurely before adulthood, and sought a detached life in the Eastern Desert. Although Orxler had disagreed on many accounts with her plans, he remained in their homeland until maturity, slightly saddened by the leave of his sister but nevertheless determined to recover from the minor impact her absence had made in his life. Over time, he grew somewhat irresponsible as a way of making up for her lost company, and resorted back to his previous larking around. Once the time came when he was fully fledged and far past being independent of his blood relations, Orxler left to journey far to the vibrant rainforest locale of Erymire Forests, where he currently resides as the average migrant Pokémon with nothing to do but live out his prime in peaceful companionship with no body but himself.[/size][/font][/color]

[Éclair]

The Merry Little Caravan

Name: Papaya & Hetzen

Species: Pachirisu

Age: Adults

Sex: Female(Papaya), Male(Hetzen)

Description: An unconventional yet commonplace pair of Pachirisu with nothing exceptionally different about them other than their bickering tendencies, Papaya and Hetzen come across as a normal, everyday mated pair in Pokémon society. Papaya’s petite stature, along with her eccentric, childish behavior, gives some the impression that she’s a little younger than what she claims, and she’s taken a little less seriously due to the lavender-pink color substituting for the specie-standard blue in her coat (her cheeks are a pastel shade of orange too). Hetzen, by all means, is completely ordinary, apart from the barely visible scars in the left side of his face from a nasty scuffle he got in with Papaya once. Both are always seen with younger Pokémon in tow: Papaya’s anticipation for having her own young one day results with her adopting almost any baby Pokémon she comes across on her parades through the forest, even if they aren’t exactly orphaned, and thepair have had to confront many an upset parent.

Personality: Papaya finds it all too easy to manage the things she sees herself responsible for, including her timid mate, Hetzen, and the occasional tidying up of their homey little abode. Typically full of the ambitious finesse and originality that had initially given her her beloved Hetzen, most would deem her to be a sprightly soul with nothing but a collective contentment in that dainty little daydreaming head of hers. Some would say otherwise, however. She’s somewhat of a termagant-wife and positively bossy with her mate at times, as she is often perturbed easily, even by less stressful things, and her prejudiced nature makes it impossible for her to bear a situation when she doesn’t come out on top. Her estimable fund of energy has enabled her to survive where other less exuberant folks might succumb, though she usually lacks discipline and the capacity for prolonged effort, and is therefore deemed negligent in some aspects.
Hetzen, on the other hand, is a simple, down-to-earth, perpetually comfortable, and self-effacing Pokémon of altruistic nature and integral harmony, with a great warmth and charm in his very air. He feels he made a mistake giving into Papaya’s ostentatious flattery months ago and allowing himself to be mated to her, though he loves her nonetheless and is determined to make the best of their relationship, as it is the primary focus of his life at the moment and his idealistic view of love and romance makes him all the more tenacious. He usually avoids conflicts whenever possible, and is inclined to act as a peacemaker when others fight; he’s grown to be a kindhearted advocate of the underdog, willing to do anything to help those who are suffering, though this has lead to him having somewhat of a martyr complex that often endangers himself. He comes across as reclusive to some (when Papaya isn’t there to egg him into social interactions), though he’s enthusiastic to connect with others on an emotionally satisfying level if they appear friendly enough. Soft-hearted and self-sacrificing, he has a phobia of hurting the feelings of others, and tends to suffer intense guilt over small things that weren’t even his fault.

History: Papaya and Hetzen grew up in a forest, in the same exact glade, around the same time, as normal Pachirisu kits: yet distantly apart as they grew up with little interaction between their feuding families. They became acquainted through a clumsy mishap involving Hetzen falling eight feet from his nest and Papaya rushing to his aid, and soon after became good friends. The two met up frequently outside their tree hollows to play afterward, though they were discovered once and promptly separated; Hetzen and Papaya had then promised to meet again when they became independent of their parents and their quarrelsome histories. Growing out of their homes, they never met up until way later, and by then—much to Hetzen’s dismay—Papaya had attracted a considerable handful of suitors. She had changed much herself, though still bubbly and sociable, she taken on a coquettish side that demanded to reject unworthy aspects. When approached by her childhood playmate, she denied him flat out. He was taken aback, but however determined to win her heart before she was claimed by another. To make a long story short, he had failed. Papaya chose another over him, and he left to live alone, despondent with his defeat. Only months later did he ever see her again, and this time, she showed up with an unseemly interest in him. She explained then that her previous mate had run off—for reasons he could not begin to conceive, as she was very beautiful then and was adored for her unusual coloration by all the males. Knowing he loved her, Papaya proposed they become mates, and he eagerly accepted, forgetting how she had rejected him before, though he still remained wary of being left shortly afterwards. It’s been nearly a year, and they have progressed slowly but surely in their love for another—though Papaya is sometimes unsatisfied with things and claims she misses the luxury her previous mate provided her with; Hetzen resolutely puts up with the hurtful comments and occasional scratches, understanding she must have gone through stressful aftermaths after she was left, but also knowing she housed love for him throughout her depressed bouts. Although they’ve been trying for the past several months, Hetzen fears they are unable to have kits, although Papaya is contently unaware of the truth on the outside, and he dreads having to point it out one day; unknowingly, Papaya suspects the same thing, but is stubborn on keeping the reality from her mate in order to not disappoint him.

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[Éclair]

behind the mask lies a greater façade;; [/color]

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Name: Wendan

Species: Zangoose/Sneasel

Age: Adult

Personality: Wendan is a river. Not a lake, nor an ocean; a river. She forever moves, never stopping her flow even if the day withers onward, she just keeps going. How can she stop when she feels such woe wherever she goes? The memories are hard to remove.
She's dancing in a masquerade, her subterfuge shrouding her in anonymity and confusion; something no Pokémon wishes to feel when meeting a rogue such as herself. She's got a strange aura about her, as though there is no identity within her impenetrable form, not a flicker of life about the weary creature. She's a storyteller, born and true. And that, my friends, is how she conveys emotion. Through myths and ballads and folklore. Not conversation, not eloquent flirtation; but songs and stories. It is difficult for her to trust or become loyal. Not because she despises someone, or finds them an arrogant ass, but mainly because she is too scared of losing them; too scared to grow attached and then have to relinquish them to death or separation. A Pokémon cannot take such pain twice in life.
She can become vicious and violent, unsighted by a Pokémon’s rudeness and loathing towards she that cannot contain her emotions anymore, and lets loose her mind and spirit, attacking with all she has, even if she cannot fight as a Zangoose truly should. Often, in the eve or dead of night, one can find her puling softly to herself; perhaps by a river or a lake, looking into the waters, thinking of times long past. Then perhaps, beneath that exterior of secrecy and masquerades, there is something, something emotional; something waiting to be thawed out of the icy tomb that is Wendan's mind. Perhaps, with the right nurturing, she could return to the Zangoose she once was, to the Zangoose she once lost.

Appearance: She's something of a fairy tale herself. Many find it ironic that she tells such fabulous legends and still manages to look like a maiden waiting for her Prince as she sits, lonesome in her encased tower-like mind. Her eyes have a hazy boredom lingering in their golden irises, as though their true vibrancy is being locked away deep within the large crevice-like dungeon of her mind.
Her paws are exceedingly delicate, despite her powerful Zangoose origins, and she's quite fragile; not at all good at hunting or fighting due to her lithe, frail body. She is, however, an exceedingly fast runner and has not yet met another of her specie who can quite match her endurance in speed. As she was the runt of her litter, she owes her greedy womb-sharers the credit towards her fragile system.
She has long, pinned-up ears that are a little exaggerated when it comes to description by others, though they are still quite tall when sat erect atop her round, furry head. Her claws and fangs are strangely curved. Though, the more odd thing about her claws, are that they are a pearly shade of white, rather than grey as Zangooses’ claws usually are; some say it was due to gaining lack of nutrition from her mother in the early ages of her life, when she was pushed about by the large insatiable siblings she had been cursed with.
Her tail and fur, are undeniably, her greatest features. Her fine-grained coat is a beautiful sheen of pearl-hue, tinged slightly with prominent traces of underlying silver from the Sneasel part of her, and when bathed in the humble glow of the twilight sun, the tips appear a river-pearl shade. As for her tail, it's just utterly fabulous; it begins large and then turns into a neatly trimmed tip at the very end of the tail. The fan-like arrangement of feathers indigenous to her diluted Sneasel-genes project notably from the base of her tail.

History: She remembers naught of her childhood. Perhaps she doesn't wish to remember such horrors, for such a time is something no Pokémon should experience nor even dread to think of. But she remembers fire. The forest she had grown up in, the forest she adored; was on fire, fuming ruthless fire. There were shouts and screams of agony, some from father and some from mother, some from Ophelia and one, loud prominent one coming from her brother Gals.
"Wendan! Help!"
She ran. How could she face such traumatic affairs as though she were a brave Pokémon of the tales that her mother had taught her, she was an adolescent, a stupid young kit with an apparent taste for leaving her past and her family in the dirt. She couldn't bring herself to look at her image in the streams and lakes she passed; it was only when she turned her first year that she dared look upon the monstrous form that would surely await her eyes. It was a Zangoose. Just a Zangoose. With two red eyes that screamed, Guilty!
But there was something else, behind her.
It was a dog. A magnificent red dog. With two dark eyes that conveyed, Innocence.
"Miss, why are you standing in such bitter conditions? Would you not be more comfortable in my den?"
From then on, she knew she was not alone. No, he was not an Alpha of a pack, as some females may try and say their lovers were; he was a rogue, just as she, who had recently arrived with a group of other lonesomes who sought comfort with one and other. It was pleasant. She knew the Arcanine who had met her on that cold winter eve would be beside her, ready to catch her if she fell, until the day she died. Oh, if only love was not as bitter and as harsh as that brumal day she had met him!
Autumn. She remembered the first day of autumn so vividly, she could almost smell the scent of the dew that burdened the grass as it moistened, ready for its life to come to an abrupt end when Winter exploded onto the scene. The leaves underfoot were a crimson and amber hue, matching his pelt and mane. It was wonderful at first. The day was new and the scents of an autumnal day filled her senses to the brim, so much so that she felt she would run to a cliff-edge and scream until her lungs collapsed. That was when he came. That monstrous creature. That deformed beast whom she had once called. . .brother. He had lost a great deal of fur on his left side, raw pinkish flesh laid bare like cancerous patches of skin; one of his eyes was a pale milky white, and the other was a translucent red; but oh, he could still see, that horrible creature could still see. He could see so much, he saw her heart, managed to attack Averroes rather than Wendan, grunting as he finished, "This punishment is far worse than your death." He was right. Gals had always been right. Wendan could hear her lover's heartbeat slowly die away beneath the cold claws of death, and as such a thing happened, she threw her head against his chest, making his bloody fur sodden with her tears as she mourned and cried such lamentations it made the very earth cry, for as Wendan left behind her cold past, she could feel the first tears of the earth falling from the grey-bearers of the sky.
She was not of a pack, she didn't even know if she was still part of this horrible existence now that the only light in her life had been snuffed. She has not stopped her journey since, and forever wandering can take a great toll on a Zangoose; for an inkling of thought in her troubled mind told her she was not supposed to be alone. Often, she fancies she's still dancing in the autumnal leaves with her old friends, and with her lover by her side.
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