WELCOME TO THE SINNOH REGION, a massive island rich with exploration and Pokemon. Legends say that Sinnoh was the very first Pokemon region to come into being;
and so the nefarious Team Galactic has begun searching for the time and space Pokemon in an effort to destroy and recreate the entire Pokemon Universe. Will you step up, earn your badges,
and fight to defend the world? Or do you believe in Galactic ideals, wishing to follow their efforts in starting anew?
[ 08.15 ] Welcome to Sinnoh! Team Rocket have arrived in Sinnoh and have left a very daunting message here. With the introduction of a new class comes another promo!
Check out the rocket promotion here and stay tuned for many more exciting events!
major news alert!
witness reports from all over the region has been flooding in about strange happenings at the three lakes. what's more perplexing is that these occurrences seem to be happening spontaneously at the lakes. just moments ago, a burst of light erupted at the locations and residents in the vicinity have reported that the lake-side pokemon have turned aggressive and attack on sight.
However, there have been rumours and sightings of the legendary lake trio which has had trainers flocking in from all over the region.
Damsel was born in a small town surrounded by orange groves. A small town with a large house where her family made their money selling oranges to nearby towns, since they grew perfect oranges for generations. Though from a young age Damsel had the short end of the stick, always being mysteriously exhausted and suffering from fatigue, and having these strange sun rashes that never seemed to really go away. The young girl had issues early in life, and her family was devastated to find out she suffered from lupus. While this shocked her and rattled her quite a bit, Damsel decided she wasn't going to let it get to her. She was going to live her life to the best of her ability and get through this, even if it ended her eventually.[break][break]
The first thing she decided was that she didn't want to stay in the orange groves for her entire life unlike her whole family who seemed to live and die in the little town, with their generations of bug type pokemon that helped them in the groves. Taking everything she loved about the world outside, despite mostly being locked in the house by her parents, she decided she wanted to write down her experiences. Writing and reading took her into a different world where she wasn't sick, where people would see her words and not her swollen joints, and her shortness of breath. She'd steal other people's breaths instead of losing her own and writing didn't take many of her "spoons" away from her, leaving her often fully refreshed and being able to do normal day to day things.[break][break]
On her sixteenth birthday she decided she had enough, and asked her parents kindly for a bit of money so she could go to a lovely breeding school a good distance away from the little town surrounded by orange groves. Her parents were reluctant of course, their baby and youngest of six was going off with a horrible disease, but her older brothers finally managed to convince their parents it would do her good to be independant. With a pocket lined generously with cash and enough stationary to start a store, she made her own way in the world.[break][break]
That he really wouldn’t amount to anything. Théodore lived in a rather small town with a big mysterious tower, one he’d always looked at and wondered how it really got there, and what it stood for. His family was rich and a well bred sort, ones who thought he should be proper and he somewhat believed them. He liked order and cleanliness, and disliked the messes that he tried his hardest not to make, but some things were unavoidable. His younger years were kind of hectic, between boring lessons about history and arithmetic and not a lot of days spent playing with “filthy animals” aka pokemon. Théodore learned to hate people, something he never thought would actually happen. Mostly because people were what made the world work, and he figured with his reputation and the need to speak with the common folk he’d enjoy their company. He was wrong. He hated people, hated the messes they made and their germs. They said he’d never amount to anything because he wasn’t a good son, he didn’t always do what he was told and he wasn’t a natural at his subjects. He learned to hate people. He learned to hate himself as well.[break][break]
Some said…
That they didn’t know what happened to the sweet kid he used to be. Teenage years were full of rebellion, of drinking under the stars with a local boy who caused nothing but trouble. Who spray painted poems on the sides of buildings and who tasted like tobacco and starlight. Théodore learned the meaning of poetry in those years, of a yearning for adventure and of young love that burned brighter than any star in the sky, any fire they set. He learned of loss when the boy moved away, dragged off by disappointed and overworked parents. He learned to shut his heart away, to keep it close and never let it go after that. He learned what it was like to feel the sting of a belt when his parents learned what he’d done, the things he’d given up, how improper he was acting. Though it wasn’t by his father himself, the order was given to servants to punish him for what he’d done.[break][break]
He learned the meaning of abuse only a year later, when he learned that servants were good at threats. He learned to fear the sound of a belt buckle, of a zipper, of rustling sheets. He kept his mouth shut, he stayed pale from lack of sunlight, the circles under his eyes darkened. He learned to fear intimacy. He feared being alone, yet craved the moments of peace that it allowed. Théodore learned that mercy wasn’t simply given out, and that he had to steal away his peace. [break][break]
He learned of Galactic shortly after, and craved that sort of freedom. That sort of order. He made a decision, one that would never allow him to come back. He spoke to his parents of leaving, of training pokemon, and they forbade it. So he stole away in the night, slitting the throat of his abuser and disposing of the body, hired some muscle, and staged his own kidnapping. It was surprisingly easy to do all of that in a short amount of time, muscle was easy to find, killing someone was surprisingly easy with a cool detachment he’d been feeling as of late, and turns out bad publicity will give you anything. He demanded two million for his return, and his parents paid. [break][break]
He never returned. [break][break]
Some said...
He was stupid for leaving. That he'd never make it on his own without his parents. Mostly urchins and street rats said this, to some poor rich kid who carried no money, but was smart and kept it in the bank. He eventually ended up wounded though, as he knew he would, stabbed half to death in an alleyway and slashed down his right arm. He was found several hours later and sent to a hospital by a ranger, who stayed by his side as his right arm was amputated from his body, and even as he recovered. What started then was a very brief romance that left both of them shaking. The ranger couldn't deal with the loss of the limb, and eventually left Théodore with no one. Théodore learned to live with his disability until he was approached by Galactic forces who he'd been searching out. They offered him a cybernetic implant for his arm in exchange for his services. He agreed.[break][break]
Lilla was ready. Her father left when she was young, and then it was just her and her mother with three younger siblings and a hell of a lot to do. They owned a small pottery shop in Lentimas Town, where they relied on tourists for most of their business. At 6 Lilla was working as much as any adult in the town, running around helping her poor overworked mother in any way possible. Her mother spoke poor English, not very good at communicating with others, and Lilla was left to learn the language from others in the town. She became a translator, running the front of the shop and collecting more money than they should have gotten due to her cute baby face and strong way of talking.[break][break]
She took no shit, as her mother taught her.[break][break]
When push came to shove…
She developed early, grew into her baby face and traded it for a more feminine and womanly figure. She learned early that she loved to work in the pottery shop, and that she loved girls a hell of a lot more than she loved boys. Girls were just so much better in every way in her opinion, though she had very little time for fickle things such as romance. She was a working woman battling off other pottery shops and charming passing tourists with her natural charm and womanly ways. She may have exerted herself a bit, but she loved it. [break][break]
Tragedy came in the form of winter of her nineteenth year, when her youngest sister passed away from pneumonia. Suddenly everything seemed dark and gloomy, and the town suffered from flooding rains for two straight weeks. Trainers stopped coming to the town, they nearly lost their kiln, and everything seemed to be covered in misery. She suffered through it, pulling it together for the rest of her family and never really giving herself time to grieve. It was just one of those things that never occurred, and she’d admit to regretting it ever since. [break][break]
When push came to shove…
She wasn’t ready, and admitted she’d never have been ready, for her daughter. Wandering by a nearby route one day produced a loud piercing wail, and a baby abandoned in tall grass. Lilla was horrified and scooped the baby up, adopting her after trying to find a suitable home for her and failing. She saw it as her only option, not willing to let her go into a broken system that wouldn’t care for her, and called her her own. Aniko was a good baby, quiet and willing to be held. Lilla was grateful for that and doted on the child religiously, learning to love her more than anything in the world. [break][break]
But as most things, time and sense of self started to prevail. On the evening of Anika’s sixth birthday Lilla suffered from a sense of loss, and she wanted to rectify this. Deciding to go on a journey, despite her age, she took her young daughter, enough supplies to last them to Twinleaf, and set her life in motion.
Despite looking like a wallflower, Mishka is very opinionated. Life in the frozen tundra wasn’t the easiest, and he learned quickly that keeping things to yourself in order to make others happy was useless. Especially being one of the middle children in a family of eleven and growing. While his father was a high ranking officer in the army, his mother was a civilian and most of his older siblings simple shopkeepers. With every child born, male female or otherwise, each got the army upbringing, his father hoping for someone to follow in his footsteps. Not that his father didn’t pose a terrifying manly figure, but his mother always doted on him for being her willowy spitting image. [break][break]
Most of his other siblings were chubbier with bright red or blond hair, but he was thin and tall with cool ashen hair. He learned to step to the sidelines in a lot of things in order to avoid conflict, though when he wanted something and knew he was right he wasn’t afraid to fight dirty. Or as he put it, think smart, by simply going to his mother. While generally the black sheep of the family since he tended to sometimes spout radical “propaganda” as his father so delicately put it, he did bond better with the younger siblings than the elders. He was gentle and quiet and listened well, encouraging them to speak their minds directly and bluntly.Life in his house became somber once the very real threat of war loomed overhead, causing his father to become short with his temper. Silence blanketed the strangely chilly home once their mother started covering up more, and faint purple marks could be seen if you looked hard enough. [break][break]
Well...
Mishka had enough when his father slapped his 2 year old sister Kielo. Though the violence didn’t stop, Mishka did start documenting it and making sure to move the younger children out of harm's way, often taking hits for them. With the foundation of the once happy home shaken Mishka couldn’t always bear to be home and often retreated to a small cave that overlooked the auroras at night. It was dangerous, as many things were, but he felt he could handle it.What he couldn’t handle was the avalanche caused by territorial Abomasnow that took his left leg. From the knee down had to be amputated after he’d been trapped for 16 hours in the ice, nearly suffering from frost bite. The rescue team sedated him on the spot and removed the limb and he was rushed to the closest hospital, where the wound was treated and he was kept for several days. What was simply quiet before became deafeningly silent. While his father seemed to sober up and realize his mistakes, having driven one of his children away to nearly die, Mishka never really forgave him. Sure their lives hadn’t been the worst, but Mishka was a jittery and nervous person by nature who tended to hide his face in his shirts more often than not. [break][break]
He never did anything he didn’t want to do, but prided himself in his resolve. Considering it’d gotten his leg crushed, he didn’t feel too good about it. Despite the setback his father managed to get him a top grade prosthesis and he learned to move with it easy enough, though it came at a small price. He was recruited into the army, really without his permission, but a vague threat looming over him from his father. For a short while he made it easy enough being a scout, he had excellent vision and instincts and was one of the fastest runners available. However, once he caught wind of the corruption in the army and some of the rumors about the war, he knew he wanted no part of it. Escaping the army and returning home he packed a bag for himself and his 2 year old sister Kielo and whisked her away to a life of roguish adventure.
Came in the form of many things. It came in the ash in the grass, the skarmory that would play with her, the little spinda that would dance around her. It came in the forms of blown glass and flutes, glass tables and chairs, of little figurines. Happiness had a strange way of infecting her at a young age and refusing to leave, in the form of a Sandshrew. She lived a rather simple existence on Route 113, in the midst of the ash of the volcano. While it got her absolutely filthy her parents did little to discourage this behavior, as they loved seeing their only child have fun. [break][break]
happiness…
Had a way of rotting away.It all came to a head when her little brother was born though, and suddenly she wasn’t the baby of the family. Briar will admit perhaps it was a bit much, but she felt the resentment grow in her belly at a young age every time she saw him. She didn’t think he was cute, she hated how he screamed in the night, and she hated how her mother had died in childbirth. Her father begged her for patience, for mercy, for help. She helped, but in the barest way and without any sort of comfort. Still, he seemed attached to her and for that she had no idea what to do. Her Sandshrew seemed to feel the same, and began to avoid the house.[break][break]
She hated him for that most of all.[break][break]
happiness…
Came in the form of an escape. She was finally able to leave her doting brother and exhausted father when she was eighteen, to a new region with new troubles. Her Sandshrew finally came back after several long years away, unable to stay away knowing that Briar was finally away from the problematic child. She’d overheard rumors of Galactic, so unlike the Team Magma and Team Aqua of her own region. She admired them, and the thought of a life without her brother, and decided she wanted to be a part of the recreation of the universe.
Life was pretty good honestly. Bianca grew up in love with her hometown. Which was saying something considering her parents seemed to greatly dislike everything about it. Why they stayed was a mystery to them until they saw the great joy it brought their daughter, in which then they took it and sat with it. No need to ruin her fun right? Bianca was enraptured by the dancers in the theater, always hanging around the painted ladies in their kimonos. While she wasn’t exactly of the right culture to be playing around them, her family very proud Italians with their own customs, Bianca decided it didn’t matter. She’d be a dancer one day just like them.[break][break]
actually…
It wasn’t that hard to do. The dancers took her in very quickly seeing how eager she was, and she started her training immediately. Her parents said nothing about it, but encouraged their daughter to try her best. She became one of the youngest dancers to hit the stage, not because of any natural talent or because she was good, but because she was so eager to try and it was cute to see a 7 year old dance and only screw up a couple of details. Her parents invested in several hand-me-down kimonos that were rather fetching with her complexion, and allowed her to continue her career so long as it didn’t interfere with her studies. [break][break]
The youngest dancer at the theater now, she had little competition and all the support she could ever want. She worked hard to get as good as she got, and was very proud of her work. She combined the traditional dance of the theater with small ballet lessons she managed to find on dvd, and with the help of a traveling circus who gave her a few pointers on her form, turned dance into something even more beautiful.[break][break]
actually…
Part of her knew she wouldn’t be able to do it forever. Stay in that little theater she meant. She wanted to move onto greater and bigger things, but was a tad too shy to really do anything about it. Being on a grand stage dancing with a group was her dream, but her dreary and insecure attitude would never allow it. Instead she formed a new dream, despite the undying support of her family and dance troupe. She wanted to collect a pretty team of pokemon and put on a small traveling dance show of her own.
The smoke will fade, the ash will stop falling, but destruction will always remain. Gg grew up on Cinnabar island to two Rocket admins, full of life and in their prime. They played the part of civilians well enough, often going on “business trips” and leaving little Gg with a sitter. It was there that the babysitter often noticed strange things about Gg. Such as the way she color coded all her toys and how fixated she was on certain things, and not showing an interest in a lot of the things normal kids her age were. She was easily overstimulated, couldn’t hold a conversation, and screamed at any random point when there was pure silence in a room.[break][break]
Her parents took her to a doctor and she was diagnosed with autism. Though this was a bump in the metaphorical road for her future career, her parents were adamant that she would thrive given the right setting and time. So they catered to her in the best ways that they could, because just because they were Rocket didn’t mean they didn’t have a loving household.[break][break]
as with everything…
Life was hard. Cinnabar Island’s volcano erupted, hot lava spewing from the mountain and destroying the city. Gg and her parents fled, away on a Pidgeot that carried her and her mother far into Kanto. They moved all the way to Lavender Town, where no one asked their names and occupations. Though they thought the quiet town might scare their child, Gg thrived. Gg loved the lost tower with it’s crazy people and random pokemon encounters, and loved playing amongst the tombstones. Part of this would shape the rest of her life as she ran into a few chance encounters with older gentlemen and women with vast stories of grand adventures, and they didn’t even mind that she couldn’t make eye contact or sit still for very long.[break][break]
Her true fascination, however, was with a small meowth her mother used as a lap cat. She was fascinated by the cat pokemon and her mother resolved to get her her own cat pokemon, a purrloin named Kitty. Kitty helped her in the long run when it came to being bullied in school for her disability, and in other ways when it came to coping with her problems. [break][break]
as with everything…
Life was unfair. Her father would be arrested shortly after she turned 15, right when she was ready to take on the world and join Rocket to continue the legacy of the family. Her home would be invaded by police, her mother on the run. She would be shuffled from home to home, until she finally ended up in the house of a family friend who was also affiliated with the crime syndicate. She found her first real friends in Rocket, kids who had nothing to do but brawl and steal and push people around. She was happy there, she found a home there. [break][break]
Rocket would soon then be practically disbanded, forced into the underground and scattered. Gg found her mother finally after a few years of searching, at 17 and in a bar underaged with a fake ID with some friends. Her mother had been working for Rocket undercover infiltrating the Rangers, and they had a very tearful reunion. Finally her mother would retire from a life of crime, though Gg’s life was only just beginning. They moved from Kanto all the way to Sinnoh, where they settled in Jubilife, close enough to the city where they could still keep in contact with Rocket, so that Gg could live out her criminal dreams.
Had a time where they were created. For Anik, this didn’t start with his birth. When he was truly created was in the beginning of the universe, when his atoms first came together made of stardust and the sands of time. This was centuries - no - millenia ago when his past lives lived to their fullest. This is what he believed, and the beliefs his family instilled in him. He gladly took to the religion of his ancestors, living in a small port town that had been expanded upon. His father was a tradesman, selling fishing supplies in a store they lived above. [break][break]
He lived a normal life honestly. He didn’t do much that was strange or bad. He was a good kid who wasn’t good with reading or writing, and who often times had a bit of a hero complex when it came to save others. While shy, he never hesitated to take on the schoolyard bullies or protect the other kids from some wild pokemon if they wandered too far into the tall grass. So it seemed only the natural progression of things that he’d one day become a ranger.[break][break]
His mother instilled in him a sense of duty with her kind words and gentle hands, and he almost wanted to follow in her footsteps of becoming a coordinator. To compete in contests for a while was his dream, but with a smile and a laugh his mother convinced him his talents lie elsewhere, somewhere more helpful. He grew up with delusions of grandeur concerning the rangers, and joined the moment he was old enough. He did well enough work, but was never truly satisfied knowing they couldn’t do much about Rocket. [break][break]
He immediately requested a transfer once he heard about Galactic rising up in Sinnoh. It was something that was a no brainer for him, people needed to be protected and he wouldn’t allow Galactic to dig their claws into the region like Rocket had Kanto. Once he found out Rocket was trying to rise up alongside Galactic, he was determined to make it all stop once and for all.
Preferred the forests to the sands. The little town of Dewford was too sleepy and quiet for her. Lala never liked it honestly, never liked being home with her father and mother who worked all the time as fishermen. She hated fish, she hated sand, she wanted to live in the deep lush trees and grasses of somewhere, anywhere but in Dewford. She expressed these concerns to her parents but they laughed her off, telling her she’d get used to the small town eventually and that it was best to raise here there where the influence of Magma and Aqua were little at best.[break][break]
She hated both teams. Both sides were ridiculous, and despite Team Magma having what seemed to be her best interests at heart really, they just weren’t big enough for her to want to bother with. Instead she ran away from home the moment she hit 17 and lived her life to the fullest, pickpocketing and learning to be a proper thief. It started when she was young, nicking things from the gym and other people’s stores and homes when they weren’t around. [break][break]
She was a natural with a sweet smile and nimble fingers, but she was selfish and petty at times and not much of a team player. The crew she got involved with located mostly in Slateport was full of small fry, people she used until she could get enough money to move onto bigger and better things. Secret bases were fun and all but with enough people crammed into one base of operations, it wasn’t the excitement she needed.[break][break]
SHE ALWAYS…
Hated the team dynamics of Aqua and Magma. She joined Magma anyway, for the protection, for the glory, for the infamy. In her time she robbed a few museums of their fossils, discovered the Petalburg Woods, and lived in trees. Magma wasn’t as exciting as she hoped it was and their leader was an old man who was far too bitter about his rival. She swore that the moment she had enough of a reputation to be feared by herself, she was done. Wanted posters just weren’t enough for her, but when Maxie caught wind of what she was doing, it was her head on a platter. [break][break]
She barely escaped with her life, but she was free. Even if it was forced.[break][break]
Sinnoh was a reprieve from the hustle and bustle of Hoenn. Sinnoh was a fresh start, a new region a new life. She had a lot more options now with the rise of Rocket and Galactic, but ultimately she wasn’t a common thug and was more interested in the politics of the creation of a new universe than simply stealing pokemon. Plus they seemed like they needed more thieves in their little group, and she was more than willing to offer her services.
A brat. That’s what they said. Six years old and her father was wrapped around her finger. Ever since her mother died of the flu when she was three he’d thrown himself utterly into her care. She adored her father and he her, and she took advantage of that. They weren’t all that well off but she got what she wanted when she wanted no exceptions. She was a bit of a drama queen, a dive, always in the limelight but that was okay. She loved every bit of it, and it showed in the dresses and the tutus and the little glittery shoes she wore. In the mature way she wore lip gloss and her eyelids sparkled with shadow. She was a little hellion to the people of Viridian City, shouting and screaming at the drop of a hat anytime someone said no.[break][break]
SHE WAS…
A nowhere kid. That’s what they said. That her looks were fleeting, that her personality was toxic and she’d never be able to get a man. Which was fine, she wasn’t much into them anyway. The toxic part though, that tended to really get to her. She put on a show though, a smirk and a smile and turned her nose up at all those who opposed her. She belonged in the limelight, but not in a conventional way. She didn’t want to be an actress, the stage wasn’t for her. Not the acting one anyway. She had stars in her eyes for a bigger cause, for drugs and guns and the violence of the streets. She spent her nights as a teen sneaking out of the house, wandering the streets and hanging out with the local hoodrats.[break][break]
She built a name for herself, nothing too big but big enough for her to control a small portion of the bustle of Viridian City at night. Police were out for her blood and her father begged her to stop, to just be the good little girl he knew she could be. But Bisera wanted more, wanted more from life than being some trophy wife like her father wanted her to be. She wanted adventure, craved to take the stage of life and make it her bitch. She was thirsty, and she wasn’t sated with this life.[break][break]
she was…
Tragic. That’s what they said. When her father was gunned down due to a heist gone bad, she was devastated. Bisera took time to herself, running off to Celdaon with a fist full of cash and a frown. She was only twenty five, taking time to herself and living for a while on the small nest egg she’d gathered for herself, living a rather cushy life in a small apartment. She wasn’t exactly the best at hiding with her sense of dramatics, but no one came for her. Not yet anyway. She heard rumors on the wind of an uprising though, more gangs in the cities rising up to fight for control. She fled from city to city all over Kanto as things got more rowdy, worse for the people, terrible for the cities. She held her tongue, kept her head down, and survived. She had to kill a few people along the way, hurt a lot more, but she managed to keep a relatively low profile. She spent a few years in a slump, mourning, until something else caught her attention.[break][break]
Rocket.[break][break]
Rocket was like a breath of fresh air to Bis. Last she’d heard they were disbanded, but then they rose up like a plague and washed over just about everything. The moment she heard about them being back she ran to sign up, with an eager grin and more than enough dramatics to make jaws drop. She had her place again, and knew it’d only be a matter of time before she climbed the ranks.
Shaped Evren's life. They were useful, they were helpful, they were everything they wanted to be and more. Evren was never one to sit by and watch something happen without trying to get involved themself. Evren was an innovator, someone who used their brain to make the lives of those around them easier, while still managing to keep their head in the clouds at an almost constant. They were always keeping their gaze focused on the HQ in the distance, so close yet so far away from their dreams. They wanted to be a rager, to help people and pokemon wherever and whenever they could, but sometimes it seemed like a pipedream. [break][break]
They couldn’t ever really focus, not entirely, and their life and work suffered for it. They spent most of their time outside helping other that they often forgot to help and take care of themself. While their father appreciated the gesture, their mother didn’t take too kindly to it. Luckily, the first sign of trouble from the angry woman Evren told and adult, and despite the palpable anger from their father they felt much safer in a home without her. [break][break]
rangers…
Helped shape them, and helped train them. Once the rangers realized that Evren was serious, the dreamy little kid who wandered their halls and watched their training battles, they took them more seriously. Trained from seventeen on, they took every bit of help they could get and realized very quickly that doing things on their own wasn’t always the best thing. Sometimes help was needed, and they were quick to accept it when it was offered. Evren thrived in the rangers, not ashamed to accept low level missions for more experience, and clinging to older and more experienced rangers for help and advice. Evren’s energy seemed to be a welcome change from some of the more drab rangers dispositions, and they became a very popular and well liked ranger in their prime.
Always difficult in the worst of ways. Her birth was not a kind one. Eighty two hours of labor to a mother who never really wanted her left her cold and alone in an unforgiving world where her parents didn’t live together, and their marriage was a sham. They were a political marriage, and she was a political birth. Both her parents were high class socialites who wanted to keep up appearances despite her mother not living with her father. Neither parents were really prepared to bring a child into the world but with the media looking in their direction and catching on to their constant snark and less than glamorous glances they felt they had no choice.[break][break]
LIFE WAS…
Strange to say the least. Being raised by nannies was fun and all but Val learned a lot about life in those early years. She learned about secret legal battles and affairs, about secret dealings and bribes. She caught on quickly and started her own little show around the household, learning to blackmail quickly and efficiently in exchange for goods and services. She was a cunning little brat the house quickly learned and soon she had it wrapped around her finger.[break] [break]
Her main interest though? Ghosts.[break][break]
She had an attraction to the tower, to the little things like the cries of the despairing and the call of the afterlife. She became then a bit of a charmer, someone who spun tales and pretended to view into the afterlife to help “soothe” the fears. She was a false idol, a fake psychic who could have brought shame to the name if she was ever caught. But she wasn’t. Her charm and beauty kept her on top and she flew onto every magazine cover as she grew, with her perfect record and insane hobbies. She was an oddity and they loved it, they loved her. Her parents? Not so thrilled.[break][break]
LIFE WAS…
Fun. Very fun she figured out quickly. She met a small Duskull in the tower shortly before moving away to live in Saffron, where she really thrived. She got involved in the political underbelly of the site, making her fame and fortune in blackmail and bribes. She had enough cash flow from her parents and her psychic sham to live a cushy life where she suffered no repercussions to her actions, until she got wind of Galactic uprising in Sinnoh. That was interesting to her, and seeing as she was still in her prime? Time to move ladies and gents, shows about to begin.
Wapasha lived a relatively normal life. Born and raised in Nuvema he was the son of a loving set of parents who lived on a small reservation in the steadily growing town. They were Natives, which honestly didn’t affect their lives that much other than the occasional spat with the other residents concerning their culture and values. He grew up in a normal town, doing normal things, with a normal life for the most part. If there was anything even remotely tragic that happened in his life, chances were he couldn’t really remember it anyway. All he could remember was the smell of the ocean breeze, sand between his toes and how often he loved to go surfing.[break][break]
The worst thing he could possibly remember? Was being caught by police the first time he started selling pot. Smoke everyday long enough and spend enough money and you really start to wonder how much cash you could be making right? He started selling on the side, little bits at a time to rich white kids with no concern for their well being who just wanted to have a good time. It was fun at first, making a bit of extra money and smoking the product, but soon he found he wasn’t exactly sly about how he did his business.[break][break]
After being busted for the first time he got spooked into stopping for a good while, and focused on other things - like his sexuality. That was a jumble of confusion and angst that he didn’t really want to get into, as his self esteem and confidence weren’t really the best at the time. Instead he threw himself into putting on a tough guy persona, a real dickhead type thing that he used to try and pick up girls but never really worked. [break][break]
When he first heard of Rocket, it was almost like hearing about a new celebrity. Wapasha knew he had to get in on that, to do something with his life other than live on the reservation, but even under the guise of pokemon training he couldn’t get under his parents thumb. They loved him, he knew this, but it was smothering! He agreed to take on his mother’s Girafarig, a pokemon that the tribe used well for generations, and went on his way to join the recruits.
character biography can go here. elaborate further on your character in any way you so choose, whether it be a history, a roleplaying sample, a drabble about them, or miscellaneous information you'd like to add. make sure to break paragraphs with the [*break] tags.[break][break]
HEADERS YOU CAN ADD
headers can be added by using the [*h1] tag. feel free to use them as much (or little) as you'd like.
In the midst of a slight family tragedy, one key member was forgotten. A terrible tragedy that shook the family, a murder most foul. Assan was born to a poor family in the slums of Rustboro, where his family resided in a building shared by three other larger families. They had their differences, but his parents were thought to have calmed down with their arguments after the birth of their first child. Unfortunately the others didn’t seem to get the memo, and there was a terrible accident. One of the other parents that lived in the housing unit was a drunkard of the worst kind, loud and violent and inherently sexual in his advances toward Anass’ mother, who was rather a beautiful woman if not tired due to her poverty. The man drank as usual, and with Anass upstairs being taken care of by his mother, she was a prime target while everyone else in the unit was either at work or at school. He approached the small and poor family home and assaulted Anass’ mother, knocking her in the head with a fireplace poker when she screamed. [break][break]
She died due to head trauma and raped her as she bled out, all while Anass cried in his crib only feet away. He was arrested shortly after a neighbor called due to the infant’s screaming, where enough evidence was clearly left at the scene of the crime to persecute him. He received a life sentence due to the murder, but no additional charges for the rape, and Anass’ father found himself with two jobs and an infant he couldn’t really support. So he did the only thing he really thought would benefit the both of him, and tearfully parted with his precious son, sending him away to an orphanage in hopes that he could receive a better life. His father was killed in a mining incident shortly after, and was buried with no formal affair. [break][break]
Anass grew up in a terribly poor orphanage with the worst of names and an even crankier personality. He wasn’t a fan of the other children, and they did nothing but relentlessly bully him for his looks and name. Anass tried to keep to himself most of the time but couldn’t help but get into a number of scraps when the teasing got too much, in which he was almost always blamed and punished due to the racism that ran rampant in the orphanage due to his nationality. He learned to steal small things and how to frame others in order to make his life easier, little things not exactly useful for life but enough to get him by and tricks that would help in the next chapter of his life. He was a runt, not very tall and whip thin, perfect for getting underfoot and annoying anyone who didn’t want to see him. Luckily, he became very good at not being seen at all. He snuck his meals into his room and stayed out of sight and out of mind, which just made everything easier in the long run.[break][break]
He ran away not too long after his twelfth birthday, stealing away with enough food to get him by for a couple of days and not much else but the clothes on his back. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, where he was going to go, or who he could turn to. He had no ideas, and nothing was coming to mind as he mindlessly began to travel. He got far enough into the tall grass to get into trouble with no pokemon of his own. He wasn’t sure what he was attacked with, but what he did know was that he woke up in the hospital with his leg in a cast and stitches down his stomach. Something rather nasty had torn into him, and left him a mess. Overhearing the hospital talking about sending him back to the orphanage he managed to climb out the window, and escape with relative ease.[break][break]
Being small and silent had it’s perks.[break][break]
He managed to get on a train from there, leading from Rustboro that was recently built to another region, something he couldn’t name and didn’t know of, and left Rustboro behind. He smelled the fresh new air, saw the landscape change, and finally relaxed. While this resulted in him not getting the exact treatment he needed to repair his broken limb or remove his stitches, he’d find his way around the streets soon enough. While he scoured the new region, he settled into a large city where he lived on scraps for several years. When he hit sixteen his career really began, between prostitution and pickpocketing he was making a rather nice living. He managed to afford a small studio apartment in a bad part of town, where he took his clients who often abused him and pushed him around for his softer features but still distinctly masculine form. [break][break]
Surprisingly he managed to live this way for quite a while. He stole, he slept with strangers, he gave up on foolish notions like crushes and love. He built up a decent clientele and became something of a name on the streets, nothing more but one of the more common whores who sold their bodies for money but still someone to watch out for. He bought a knife, kept it tucked in his boot, and defended himself from the lowlives who thought they could take advantage of him while he was off his guard in alleyways. Eventually he felt comfortable enough to consider his life somewhat decent, and once he started really making decent money from his more normal customers he realized a few things. He loved hot water, he loved eating properly, he loved having warm clothes and lots of blankets. But it wasn’t precisely what he wanted. What he really wanted was revenge on people, on those who had used and abused him. He wanted a way to fight back.[break][break]
He wanted a pokemon.[break][break]
When he heard about Rocket they were still a rumor on the wind, something not necessarily fears but whispered about in passing. When he really listened, he heard of locations where they might be hiding, of places where they might reside and were possibly looking for recruits. He felt the need to join, to prove himself to someone, and he wanted a pokemon from them to help smooth the way. He barely managed to find them, but when he did his career exploded. Suddenly he was uprooted from his home, to a place in a town he couldn’t pronounce due to his low levels of education, and he was given a pokemon. Something to really call his own.[break][break]
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