[X] My Assistant

[Troy Bolton]

UPDATE: Due to Bogart's absence, feel free to ask any of the other PANE mods questions. We will be happy to help

Have you ever thought, 'I like PANE so much that I want to experience it twice as much?' Well then, this is the thread for you!

Second characters have come to Furoh, but first, some ground rules. Not everyone will be able to have a second character, if only because you must prove your worth as an RPer to have it considered.

• You can't have your characters in the same RP. Never the twain shall meet, and such is the case here.
• There has to be a palpable difference between the two characters.
• There's a maximum of two characters. No ifs, ands, or buts.
• I reserve the right to deny any profile for any reason. Maybe because it's Monday. I hate Monday.

The process of applying for a character is simple, but places a fair burden on the RPer himself. The first thing you must do is complete and have graded at least two (2) RPs in which you've received a 10/15 grading or higher; sorry, but I can't consider RPers who haven't shown a modicum of dedication and given us an example of their roleplaying skill with others of the forum. If the RP dies partway through, it must at least have been of decent length by then to be considered as fulfilling this step. Please link these in your post.

The second bit is where this thread comes in. We've got an example of your first character in action, but now you've to prove that you can clearly roleplay two different and distinct personalities. When trying to earn a second character, chances are that you've got that character in mind already. You've got to demonstrate the differences between these two characters: begin with a non-combat situation and write at least three (3) good sized paragraphs for each character, demonstrating their different personalities and thought patterns - I'd suggest playing up internal dialogue, chances are it'll help a bunch. But, seriously, don't make this about battling, cause I'll outright reject you for even a bit of that - your characters are different even when there's nothing to fight (or they should be.) Remember, you don't need to post your profile here, just your credentials and your differences.

Once that's done, I'll consider your post, and either allow or disallow your second character. Of course, I'll try to work as fast as possible, but any post in the thread / any PMs to the effect of hurrying me up will count as an automatic rejection for the heckler. If you're rejected, you must complete another graded RP to re-fulfill step one and then try again.

Assuming that you're approved, however, you have full right to post a second profile in the profile forum for approval, and may roleplay freely with that character. However, that character must be start at basic levels - 20 levels to spread between two to four Pokemon.

Now, this is a trial. After four months, we will take stock of the situation, and make a ruling on whether or not to make second characters permanent, or to extend the trial period. Anyone who is in the middle of an RP with their secondary character when the cut-off time for the trial is through is allowed to finish that RP. Pending our decision, they must return to their original character afterward

Don't message the other mods with questions, or post questions in this thread. PM me with questions. This thread's only to be used for applications.

This post has been edited by 2gamers: Apr 30 2011, 01:55 PM

[Living Arrow]

Living Arrow Second Character Application - Character Comparison: Darryn Kellor vs. Lori Pardare
Divide and Conquer: 15/15
Getting the Metalliclaws Out!: 15/15

At some point in the PANE universe, no matter how unlikely, Darryn Kellor and Lori Pardare happened upon a single Pokemon that captured their interest. Here is how both reacted.

“Wait… What’s that?” Darryn took a step back and allowed Lady to spring forward, tails arching over her back like a Drapion’s stinger. He squared off as he had been shown in his old battle basics class and reached back on his belt to feel the glowing warmth of the Pokeballs resting there. He was ready for battle.

What stepped out from amid the thick foliage of the forest was one of the more peculiar Pokemon that Darryn had ever had the chance to meet. For a start it had two heads! While the front half that emerged was oddly beautiful in its own way – a hooved mammal-class Pokemon with spots on its elongated neck and horns covered in soft snow-white fur above a cute pink nose behind inquisitive eyes that shone with a higher intelligence – the rear came trundling after with a contrasting ugly darkness that made the Co-Ordinator blink.

<Prince Darryn?> Lady asked tentatively, obediently holding her position but not taking her eyes from the creature that was sickeningly able to keep an eye on them both.

“Don’t do anything just yet.” Darryn whispered to her, his eyes still locked with the Girafarig’s head’s eyes while its tail watched Lady with a broad grin. “It’s not hostile… And I think we’ve just intruded on its territory.”

He surmised that last from the way the Girafarig’s Emotaglow shifted tentatively between fear and a shocking determination that showed in the unwavering way it held its head high and feet firm. It’s breathing was short and steady – no doubt preparing for fight or flight…

<It’s OK.> Darryn sent to the Pokemon silently. <We’re just walking through – please, don’t be afraid of us.>

The Girafarig snorted a grunt of shock, its eyes widening at the intrusion of Darryn’s voice and its forehoof quivered. Fight or flight… Which was it to be… Darryn gulped down a swallow of anxiousness. With two heads, who knew how the creature would use them in a fight to defend its own territory? Could it be so different to a trainer-raised Girafarig? Darryn had battled one once before when he had met Tuesday’s brother, Brone, but it was young and inexperienced. This one was… wild.

<Do not be afraid.> Darryn repeated, focusing his thoughts on ideas of peace and contentment, passing them on through the link. There was some resistance there – some level of psychic power that knew what he was attempting – before the emotions were pushed gently back with a message of ‘not necessary’ whispered into them. Darryn swallowed again, this time with relief, and smiled as the two heads of the Girafarig nodded at him calmly and the creature disappeared back into the forest, its tail grinning a farewell.

vs.

“OMIGOD A GIRAFARIG!” Lori squealed with delight, charging across the clearing towards the double-headed creature that was watching her with some disdain. Pipster hurtled along after her, also screaming a warcry of “PIIIPLUUUP!” as he approached the wild Pokemon. With an angry snort, the Girafarig rounded on the pair and stomped a hoof as a warning, eyes drawing down into a menacing glare. It’s tail simply grinned.

“Woah!” Lori skidded to a halt, leaving some distance between herself and the quadruped. Her heartbeat raced. She had done it… again! Why did she keep on making the mistake of throwing herself at the nearest Pokemon with all the good-natured loveliness of someone that wants to introduce herself onto to be faced with… with… this?! Pipster crashed headlong into Lori’s leg and rebounded like a tennis ball, tottering back in a confused daze. “Oh, no! He’s mean and we’re in his territory!”

“Rmph.” The wild giraffe snorted again, tail gnashing at the air wildly.

“Omigod, sorry!” Lori held up her arms to shield her face. “Please don’t eat us, Mr. Farig! Y’see, we were just travelling through here and when I spotted you and I thought to myself, ‘Hey, there’s a cool Pokemon – let’s say hi’. We didn’t mean to scare you or be rude or anything, Mr. Farig! Honest!”

She cowered that way for some time, quivering in her boots, with her eyes clenched tightly shut in preparation for the assault she was no doubt going to receive… But it didn’t come. Orwasitcoming!?... No… Cautiously, Lori Pardare unwrapped her arms from around her face and squinted her eyes towards the Long Neck Pokemon. It blinked back at her.

“Oh, hey!” Lori giggled, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. She really had to stop getting into these situations! “I’m Lori, Mr. Farig! Like I said, sorry about jumping out like that.”

The Girafarig watched her with mild amusement, his head tilting in thought as the rambunctious young human female made noise at her for a while longer. He could see from her size, soft cheeks and baby Piplup that she was no real intruder upon his territory. She was but a foal with her follower chick. And an honest smile.

“Since you’re not on the list Kino gave me, we aren’t going to battle.” Lori confided with a confirming nod of her head. “But believe me, if we did Pipster would own you. Right, Pipster?”

“Lup, piplup!” Her partner patted his chest with a stubby wing.

“But instead, we’re just gonna say ‘hey’ and get going – all these Unova Pokemon won’t just catch and train themselves, right?” Lori carried on as though the Long Neck gave a crap. Politely, he nodded.

“Oh, you’re such a good listener, Mr. Farig!” Lori clasped her hands together and bowed her head. “Thank you for letting us come through this way – it was awful kind of you. C’mon, Pipster!”

“Lup!”

The Girafarig watched with disbelief as the loud child hurried away with her little friend in tow, in the opposite direction of the human male he had just met. With a roll of his eyes he bent his tail to continue grazing. Humans were so weird.

[Master Houndoom]

Port Barley: 11/15
Gigarte Park: 14/15

RP Examples! Scenario: Acceptance to Furoh

Jaima sat in his room, alone, looking at the calendar. Next to his calendar, surrounding it, were pictures. The family, with all of their pokémon, to the left. His mother, smiling happily , holding an elekid from her nursery, to the right. Underneath, his twin sisters, hugging each other, Mariko laughing on the left side of the portrait, Natsume ginning on the right side. And above, looking to the right, a half grin on his face, was Kei Kuonji, Jaima and Mariko and Natsume's father. On the bottom of the portrait a small plaque with the dates of his birth and death was bolted, but Jaima had recently stopped looking at the dates. They hardly mattered anymore.

But the calendar, in the center of the what comprised the only decorations above his desk, had a day circled on it, and that, this time, was the source of his melancholy.

His sisters were leaving soon, and, somehow, he felt empty.

It was, of course, a good thing. They would receive their pokémon the day before, and then leave for their official journey. Oh, they had begged, and they had pleaded for Jaima to start his as well, but he was...

Afraid wasn't the word, but he was concerned. His mother had taken him aside and explained that the journey was meant to help the person, or, in this case, people, rely on and bond with their pokémon, and that she was afraid that if he want with them, they would rely on him too much. After a lengthy debate, Jaima saw her point. He hadn't coddled them, really. He wasn't that much older than them. But they did tend to protect them and look after them, and they should look after themselves, shouldn't they?

He sighed again, wishing, and not for the first time, that his dad was around. He'd know what to do. Or, at least...

Jaima sighed and laid back, his hand idly moving to pet Ember on her back. She wiggled a bit in her sleep and settled against his hand. He found himself, as he always had when he wondered about what his father might have done in his place, imagining what it might be like if he'd gone on his journey. His Dad would be alive. His mom... well, she was better now, but she had some hard times for a while. His sisters... maybe they wouldn't be so rambunctious... And Ember would be evolved, and so would Grondir... except, maybe he wouldn't have Grondir. Fang, maybe, but maybe not.

Jaima allowed these suddenly distressing thoughts to flow out of his mind, and soon he was drifting in a sea of darkness that wasn't frightening, with music that was hardly sound but soothing all the same, and...

"Do you think he's asleep," came a familiar voice, barely below speaking volume, but obviously meant to be a whisper.

"Mariko!" This voice, too, slightly higher and more breathy than the other's strident tones, was meant to be a whisper, but the volume was raised out of outrage, not mischief. "He's obviously asleep," the second voice continued, more quietly. "Just leave it on the desk and we'll go!"

"But I want to see his face when he reads it!" whined Mariko, no longer trying to fake a whisper. "C'mon, Natsume, you have to be curious too!"

"He'll tell us at dinner- Mariko, don't!"

But it was too late. The other girl was "creeping" across the floor, exaggeratedly on her tiptoes, which Jaima only knew because he could hear the distinct tap of her slippered toes on his wooden floor, not to mention seeing her "sneak" this way before. She leaned over him and whispered, "Tou-kun."

Jaima opened his eyes as wide as he could. "Don't call me that," he mock-growled. Natsume, still across the room, gave a little shriek and fell over, but Mariko giggled.

"You're right, you're right," she cried as Jaima sat up, reaching to tickle her. She danced out of the way, before bending over at the waist just out of his reach. "Tou-chan!" Jaima snorted and stood, but Mariko brandished a large manila envelope in front of her. "This came for you!"

Jaima stopped short of standing and reached for the envelope. Natsume crept forward, peering at it with the same intensity as her sister. Jaima opened it, and out dropped a brochure and a sheaf of letters. Jaima glanced at the brochure, which, accompanying scenes of different types of environment, was emblazoned with one word. "FUROH!" He set the brochure aside and looked at the letter.

"You have been accepted to join other pokémon enthusiasts like yourself on a great adventure..." Jaima blinked up. "Accepted?" The girls were looking at each other with identical smiles on their faces. "OK, what's going on."

"You're going to Furoh," Mariko said with glee. Natsume raised her hands above her head as if he'd scored a Football goal.

"We put in an application for you!"

"What?!" Jaima stood up, looking over the documentation. "No! Look, gir--"

"You're going."

The words were delivered in a three part chorus. Natsume looked upset, her fists clenched at her side, but she looked him in the eye. Mariko, next to her, looked furious, crossing her arms over her chest. And in the door way, looking both stern and amused, was his mother.

"You knew about this, Okaasan?"

Midori Kuonji stepped into the room. "I did. I helped fill out the paperwork."

"But mom-"

"You've been cooped up in this house and this town for years," cried Mariko. "You didn't even take your journey!"

"I didn't even know how sad that was, tou-chan," Natsume stead, more quietly than her sister, "until now."

He looked at the three girls in his room, his mother last, who raised her brow, and sighed. "I never wanted to take my journey..."

"You did so, young man," his mother rebuked him, gently. "You wanted to more than anything."

"The girls-"

"Are leaving. And I can take care of myself." Jaima opened his mouth, but Midori lifted her hand to forestall him. "And before you ask what your father would think... he would be proud of you. For all of it. And then he would chastise you for not filling it out yourself."

Jaima looked at the paper, then at his sisters. He stood, set the packet on the desk, and picked up a pen. Looking back at his sisters again, he pulled it up and circled a day two days before the girls were set to leave. The twins cheered, and his mother, standing nearest him, beamed.

"We're going to see you off," chattered Mariko. "I wanted you to see my first pokémon, but it's OK! I'm going to get a chikorita! It'll match my hair!" With that, she walked out, still chattering at her mother.

Natsume reached up and took his hand. "Don't tell Mariko, but I'm going to get a totodile... it'll help her grass type grow, don't you think?" She smiled shyly at Jaima, and he smiled back. Then she hugged him and dashed out, wiping her eyes.

Jaima looked at the calendar, then at his pokémon. Besides Ember, the cyndaquil he'd gotten when he was ten, there was Fang, lying on his pillows, and Grondir, in a spot set up for him on Jaima's nightstand, directly in the path of the sun. They looked up at him, drowsy, and Jaima smiled as bravely as he could.

"Well, guys... we're going to Furoh..."

vs.

 

Branwys Muphenz, of the expansive Muphenz industrial empire, ninth in line for succession of the Muphenz Manufacturing Plant in the Unova region, should anything happen to her father, mother, sisters and brothers, the 'Los Trio forbid, watched out of her window, her eyes keen, her face rapt with attention, eyes narrowed in alertness. Soon, she saw it, the man who could answer her hopes and dreams. He stopped at the box at the end of their long driveway, opened it, and pulled from his bag... Branwys pressed her nose against the window, eyes widening in breathless anticipation.

A large envelope. It. Was. Here!

In a flash, she leapt from her bed, scampering out the door and down the two flights of stairs from the floor her room was on, passing servants and siblings shouting, "I got it I got it I got it I got it!" Everyone she passed was nearly twice as tall as she was, but none of them seemed to find a diminutive little woman running past them distressing in the least.

One of the boys turned to his brother, blinking. "Did the phone ring?"

The other boy chuckled. "Nah. Branwys has been waiting on some mail for a while." The first boy rolled his eyes, grinning, and clapped the second on the shoulder. "C'mon, Tarv. Let's hit the gym."

Branwys, of course, did not hear any of it, and if she had, she would have giggled, dancing from foot to foot, because her package from the dating service was there! Finally! She'd have to go shopping, and that meant going to a tailor, none of the stores carried anything in her size, ever, except the children's clothing stores, and it was always either frumpy because she had to get two sizes larger, or it was the right size and tight in the chest and waist.

She should have gone to the tailor a while ago! But she had wanted to make sure she got a response or two at least. And she did!

She opened the mailbox, standing on her tip toes to get her arm as far up and into it as she could, and pulled the envelope out. The rest were bills and flyers and junk mail, but she carried them in, dutifully, and put them in the inbox for the secretaries to sort through. Then she ran up to her room, closed the door, and sat at her desk.

Her room was decorate in light and dark blues, and despite her diminutive size, all of her furniture was normal sized. It had been, at one point, decorated with furniture crafted especially for her, but she had begun to feel guilty about it, especially after her journey, which she hadn't been allowed to take until her late teens, all of the furniture in places she had stayed in had been normal sized. She had insisted from that point on that she would deal with the big stuff. It was bad enough, after all, that she had to have clothing made especially for her.

So she climbed up into her desk chair and stood on it, getting the letter opener and slicing open the seal on the envelope. She pulled out the papers, seeing the colors of the brochure from the corner of her eye, letting the compact disc (with, hopefully, some nice, funny, handsome! men on it!) and pulled out the sheet of papers that included a letter of welcome.

"You have been accepted to join other pokémon enthusiasts like yourself on a great adventure..."

Yes, yes, a great, romantic adventure. She read further, her eyes widening, her fingers trembling, taking in every word...

"WHAAAAAT?!"

*****

"It wasn't a dating site! It was an application to go to a whole other region!"

Branwys paced, her hands waving in the air as she did so, her twin ponytails flapping as her head bobbed and weaved. She was the image of frustration and disappointment, and she stopped, turned, and paced back down the length of the counter she had climbed up on in her mother and sister's work shop.

Lucrezia reached around her, listening, but neither interrupting nor halting her work. "You didn't read the entire announcement?"

Branwys stopped, looking at her, then crossed her arms and huffed. "It was up on a bulletin board, I couldn't see it all!" She looked down, scuffing her foot on the countertop. I could barely reach to get the application site...

Lucrezia scrubbed Branwys' hair with her fingers, her calloused hands rough with her but not painfully so. Ordinarily Branwys would giggle, but she was in one of her rare fits of pique. "I'm SERIOUS, Lulu!"

"Now daughter," came the tenor voice of her mother, a smooth sound against the piping of Branwys' voice and the smooth alto of Lucrezia's, "Ye dinnae think tha' th' moontains n' th' trees would be good places fuir a date, did ye?"

"Why not?" asked Branwys, wrinkling her nose. "I like the outside!"

Lucrezia smiled fondly. Like her, and her stepmother, and Gil, Branwys was not afraid to work with her hands and get messy. Unlike her, but like the little one's mother, she also cleaned up well. Too bad even the most fashionable clothes looked like a doll's dress on the girl.

The eldest woman, Marie Muphenz-Minnym, chuckled low in her throat. "Aye, I s'pose yuir nae far off as it is." She smiled down at her, then pointed. "'Cretia, could ye hold this in place fuir a wee bit while I weld it on?"

"Yes, m'ma," Lucrezia said, putting her strong hands on the metal piece to hold it, wrapped in the protective gloves that would keep the sparks from the welding unit from burning her skin.

Branwys watched, the anger slowly draining from her, as her mother and step-sister worked together on the metal. They were a lightly blended family, as Branwys thought about them. Daddy had had eight children before with another woman, who had died, and after a while he had met Momma and they married. Momma was half Daddy's age, but he was still pretty spry, and since he was the captain of an industry, he was rich enough to afford a big house where everyone could live. The other kids were getting up there, too. Tarvek, the oldest boy, was almost forty, and the next one, a sister named Agatha, was well into her thirties as well. At twenty two, Branwys was the youngest.

But Momma must have been young enough to be an influence. Lucrezia and Gilgamesh both followed her line of work, which was sculpting things out of metal and other bits and pieces that Branwys was sure they got from a junk yard. And all of them, from Tarvek to Zeetha, the youngest before Branwys, called Marie some form of "Mother."

Well, except for Moloch, but he called Daddy Klaus, too, so it wasn't a sign that he didn't accept Branwys' mother as his own.

Branwys was happy that her sisters and brothers had learned to take their personal tragedy and make what had come out of it work. As the welding ended (Branwys had, of course, turned away to keep from being blinded), Branwys stood up, clapped her hands as sharply as she could, and put them on her hips.

"That's it, then!" she announced, raising a fist and pumping it. "I'm going to Furoh!"

Marie and Lucrezia chuckled as Branwys jumped off of the counter and dashed to her room to pack and plan.

[Umbrae Calamitas]

Return of the Lost: 10/15
Climbing Mount Carello: 15/15

Second Character Application: Roleplay Differential Samples

Scenario: Lysander and Tuesday are both preparing to leave home for the first time, to begin their adventure. They each have different outlooks on this particular event.

“WaaaaaAaaaaaaaahh!”

The only moment of pause Icarus offered Lysander was when he stopped his screaming long enough to draw breath. Soon after his tiny (though how they could be so small as to fit within that little chest, Lysander could not comprehend) lungs filled again with oxygen, the baby was releasing the second-half of a long-practiced wail.

Feet, much lighter than they were made to sound by their owner, stomped heavily down the hall until Lysander’s door was shoved open. A seven-year-old boy stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest and an exaggerated frown on his dark, youthful face.

“Why is Icky crying again?” the boy demanded, his eyes widening and rolling at the emphasized final word.

“I think he’s tired,” Lysander said, glancing at the eldest of his younger siblings. “And he’s not icky.”

“Yes he is! He stinks and poops his pants and barfs up over everything.”

“The same as you did, when you were his age.”

“There is no way I smelled that bad.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Whatever,” the younger boy huffed, using his customer escape-phrase. “If he’s tired, why doesn’t he just shut up and go to sleep?”

“He will in a little bit,” Lysander soothed, bouncing his baby brother lightly in his arms as he moved about his room. “Why don’t you run downstairs and put in a movie?”

“Fiiine.” With that heavy whine, the younger boy turned and walked back down the hall with a sulk. Icarus, meanwhile, began another rendition of his trademark wailing in Lysander’s ear.

“Ickle, you are going to be the deaf of me.” The joke was, naturally, lost on the child, but Lysander got a good chuckle out of it himself. “All right, Ickle – Alex is right about one thing. You do need to go to sleep.” If he wasn’t sure that it would be vilifying his baby brother in some fashion, he might think this only made Icarus wail harder.

“Come on, baby boy.” Lysander walked over to his bed and lay his little brother in the center of it. Icarus screamed and kicked his baby-blue bootied feet in protest, but Lysander took a light blanket from the bottom of his bed and covered the baby with it, until all that could be seen was the chocolate-black of Icarus’ face, screwed up into a look of agony. Lysander attempted to calm his brother by tickling the boy’s little belly, but it did nothing to calm him, and he sighed, sinking down onto the bed and staring at the screaming child.

“Look, kiddo, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to keep me from leaving.” He leaned his face up next to Icarus’, and got a foot in the eye for it. Squinting, he pulled out of reach. “Look, blue-boy, that don’t sound right, and you know it.” He poked his brother’s belly. “So then, what’s going on here?”

“Maybe you should stay, Sander.”

Lysander glanced toward the doorway again to find his only sister standing there, eyes wide and frizzy hair, as per usual, everywhere. Lysander sat back and raised an eyebrow at his younger sister, before slowly motioning for her to come toward him with a finger. She bounded over quickly, jumping onto the bed and crawling into his lap.

“What’s this about, Nest?”

Her face buried in his shirt, Clytemnestra mumbled darkly. Lysander poked her in the side, eliciting a giggle and a squirm. “Now, what was that?”

“I said I’ll miss you!” she squealed, squirming to escape his prodding fingers.

Lysander sat back, letting his sister calm down and regain her breath. “You think I’d just run off and not come back, Nest?”

“Well, no…” Icarus, who had begun to calm down and doze off, let off a startling shriek at that point and began to cry again. Lysander sighed and let his shoulders fall.

“Ickle!” Nest whined, crawling up until she was looking down at her baby brother’s face. She stuck out her tongue and blew a loud raspberry. This apparently startled Icarus, because he shut his mouth and stared up at his three-year old sister with wide blue eyes. “That’s right! You shush!” Icarus reached both hands around and clapped them on Clytemnestra’s cheeks. She blew another raspberry and he giggled.

“Now,” Lysander said, wrapping an arm around his sister’s waist and pulling her back into his lap, “before mom and dad come back and make you go to bed, as it is very past your bedtime, do you really think I’m just gonna disappear?”

“But you’re leaving.” She put on her best puppy-got-kicked face and pouted at him.

“And I’ll be back in a few weeks.” He hugged her tight, his chin on the top of her head. “I’ll bring you pictures, if you want.”

“Are you gonna bring back more pokemon?”

“Maybe. I don’t know if I’ll catch any right away. I’m more concerned with making sure Lionheart and Watcher get the attention they deserve.”

“Will you come back for my birthday?”

“Every one,” he promised, kissing the top of her head. He glanced at the clock, the glowing green numbers revealing that it was nearly eight o’clock. “Well, seeing as I’m already going to be in trouble for you still being awake, how about the three of us go down and watch a movie with Alex?”

“Can we make popcorn?”

“Sure we can.” Lysander helped her off the bed and picked up Icarus, who was quickly losing the battle with exhaustion. Cradling his baby brother, he followed his sister out the door. He would finish packing for his journey tomorrow. Spending time with family, as always, was more important.

vs.

Tuesday stood in the middle of her bed, her head a good foot and a half from the light hanging from her ceiling fan, surveying the room. There was a curious frown on her face as her eyes glanced from one corner to the next. Her gaze lingered over the three bookcases longer than anything, but not finding what she was looking for, she began to chew her bottom lip.

“Something wrong, Silence?”

Tuesday glanced briefly, unnecessarily, toward the doorway. Brone was standing there, one hand layered over the other on the head of his cane as he leaned forward slightly. His eyes were glancing in her direction, but she knew he didn’t see her.

“I’m forgetting something.” Her voice was distant, distracted, as her eyes continued to study the chaos of her room. Books took up the majority of the space in the room, filling up all three bookcases, the corners of a desk loaded with paperwork, and stuffed in boxes that were shoved in the corners or the space under her bed.

Brone chuckled, his faded eyes crinkling in the corners with amusement. “You can’t take every book about King Arthur with you, Silence. No doubt that’s causing you some issues.” Tuesday stuck her tongue out at him, knowing he couldn’t see it, but trusting he knew her well enough to predict her reactions.

“You know, that’s very rude.”

Tuesday smiled softly and lowered herself into a cross-legged position in the middle of the bed. “I still feel like I’m forgetting something, though.” She picked at the loose thread on her blanket, not looking at Brone.

“Really?” Footsteps interrupted by the consistent tap on his cane on the floor, Brone moved further into the room until he stood in front of her. “Something else bothering you, maybe - like that you’re leaving home?”

Tuesday said nothing, staying true to her name, and Brone sighed softly. “I can’t force you to leave, Silence, but I wish you would.”

Tuesday’s shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly, but her storm-blue eyes began to fill with tears. She heard Brone release a soft, regretful sigh, and then he reached out until he touched her arm. “Tuesday,” he said softly, his use of her given name conveying his seriousness, “I do not mean that I don’t want you around. Don’t think I won’t miss you while you’re gone, but I don’t want you to stay cooped up in your room, trapped behind a book every moment of your life.”

“Why not?” Tuesday asked, glancing up at him through golden bangs. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“I know you wouldn’t mind that, Tuesday, but if you had your way, you’d live within those books. You’d take the place of a character and live one of the tales you know so well.”

“So?” Tuesday’s voice was muffled by tears and she sobbed as she spoke, her cheeks quickly growing wet as tears made their way down her cheeks. “I don’t want to go!”

“Why not?” Brone put a hand under her chin gently, raising her head so she met his sightless eyes. “Silence, wouldn’t you rather live a new adventure?”

Shutting her eyes so fresh tears gushed forth, Tuesday shook her head from side to side, golden hair whipping across her shoulders. Brone tilted his head to the side, his fingers still brushing against the soft skin of his sister’s face. “You’re frightened.”

“Yes!” She sobbed. “And it’s so stupid!”

“It is not.” Brone settled down on the floor, bent into a crouch. “This is a new thing, Silence, and a big step, but it’s one you should take. You could certainly stay here and read your books, and probably get so smart your head exploded from all you’ll know-” Tuesday let out a sobbing giggle. “-but you’ll have learned nothing from experience. Do you really want to miss out on that, just because it’s scary?”

Tuesday squirmed a little. “Not really.”

“So what’s stopping you?”

Tuesday wiped away her tears. “I’m… I’ll miss you, Brone.”

“I’m gonna miss you, too, Silence, but we’ll be sending letters back the whole time. I don’t want you to keep from going on your journey because of me.”

“But you’re not going on a journey.”

“And we both know why.” He didn’t say it in a cruel way, but it was clear he didn’t like her using that as an excuse. Tuesday looked down at her knees, embarrassed at the attempt. Brone had not yet gone on his journey, and probably never would, because of the health problems he had, not the least of which were the seizures he occasionally had during particularly strong psychic interference.

“You have a chance to go on a great adventure, Silence – to make a story all for yourself. Don’t miss that. Okay?”

Tuesday nodded, wiping her eyes again as she sniffled. “Okay.”

“Good.” Brone pushed himself back to his feet and used his cane in his left hand to regain his equilibrium, while he raised his right hand and pointed toward the most-littered bookcase. “Now, let’s make sure you have everything. Toothbrush, sketchbook, frying pan.” He made a rising motion with his hand and a large hardcover book revealed itself from under another, floating over into Brone’s hand. “And I think you wanted to take this with you.”

Tuesday took the book from him, glancing at the title. The Lord of the Rings: The Complete Collection. She hugged the book to her chest. “Thanks, Brone.”

“You’re welcome. Now, lunch, for you, Dante, and Tempest.”

“And you.”

“And me. And then we’ll hug good-bye and you can cry some more.”

Tuesday stuck her tongue out at him, and then trotted out of the room.

“You know, that’s very rude.”

[Troy Bolton]

@MH: Denied, unfortunately. You have to link the gradings of the two 10/15's.

Sorry, maybe I should've included an example. (Remember, you don't need to post the profile here).

First, the gradings to prove a certain level of quality:
Harrington Cup - 10/15.
The Big Day - 10/15


Scenario: Finding Somebody's Wallet.

"Sure, that's one way of looking at it. But it's totally wrong." Set scene - early morning, post jog. Beside one tall, red headed boy in short red running shorts emblazoned with "Arasam Soccer" stood two puffing Pokemon - both spherical in shape and splayed across the ground like roadkill. They're gasping for air as if just rescued from drowning. He's holding his phone with one hand, the other holding two fingers too his neck to count his pulse. The conversation he's having is a serious one, by his tone.

"No, listen. They both need each-other. It's interdependency, y'know?." He listens. "Oh. Maybe you don't." He begins to stretch, starting with wall (well, tree) stretches and segueing to back stretches.

"Well, yeah, I know that. He does awful things to Tom. Nasty, hell's bells, even sadistic things. But that's fine, as long as tha- hold that thought." He'd espied a bit of shiny leather on the ground. Handing the phone to the exhausted Gulpin on the ground, he moves to check it out. It takes a bit of effort, but after a moment's exertion, he holds a slightly soiled wallet. He pulls out the wallet. Nick Cormack...never heard of him, but I bet he misses his wallet. And Hell's Bells, he's loaded! Just from one compartment was around $5000, a small fortune. This Nick also had a sizable array of credit cards, which the boy knew could fetch about $1000 each. A crisis of morals overtook him for a moment.

On one hand, he could really use the money. His Arasam Soccer shorts were too small about a year ago, and he and the two Pokemon at his feet had been subsiding on bread and water for about a week. On the other hand, he hadn't been brought up that poorly. His mind is made up, and he drops the wallet into his backpack.

He gestures to the two Pokemon that he's moving again. They both affix him with looks of agony, and sighing, he returns them to their Pokeballs, cradling his phone in the crevice between neck and ear. "What was that? Yeah, Kat, I'm back..."

`~`~`~`

"That was a damned decent thing you did there, son." The police officer has a magnificent mustache, perfectly groomed and bushy enough to keep a pencil in for easy convenience. He sits at a tall desk, nursing his sizable belly with large Krispy Kreme donuts and gallons of black coffee.

Woodrow Spencer shrugged, one strap of his backpack casually laying across his shoulder. "Just doing what anyone'd do, I guess." The officer shakes his head, not accepting the shove-off.

"Still. Things like that should be rewarded. Care for a donut?" A moment of silence, then from the backpack, an enormously loud stomach grumbles. Woodrow's first to react.

"It was my Gulpin, I swear." They laugh. "Got any of the vanilla ones with sprinkles?"

With a grunt, the well-dressed woman smacked closed the door to her office. Grumbling obscenities under her breath, she rounded the corner of her desk and sunk into her chair, cupping her face with her hands. Hell's bells, does nothing go right in this company? Lightest blonde hair frames viper red eyes, lightly kneaded. Sunlight, shining through the ceiling-to-floor windows, cast the woman's shadow onto the mahogany desk before her. It writhed in the sunlight, making motions its owner didn't. After a moment, it spoke.

<You seem a little stressed out. Perhaps I should take a snack...?> "Can it," she muttered back, smacking her shadow, which was grinning in contrast to her own somber visage. The Shuppet tore himself away from it, twirling around in the breeze. He fed off of negative emotion, and in all honesty, allowing him to indulge would probably lift her bad mood pretty effectively.

But a bad mood is something to be savoured, and shared. Friday Hastur might be a great deal of things, but greedy was not one of them.

"We're taking a walk," she announced suddenly, lifting her face from her palms. <Don't mind me, I'll just hitch a ride,> replied the Shuppet, who with a spin plunged back into the woman's shadow. The shadow pulsed, taking on an almost purple hue. Friday rose, grabbed her overcoat (with the weather being as fickle as it had been, it paid to be prepared), and swept out of the office. To her protesting boss, she blew a kiss and waved goodbye - what were they going to do, fire her? She might even welcome it. But there was no chance of it - her parents owned the company, after all.

<Where to, then? The Diner? The Weather Station Trail? Forest?> Friday shook her head, buttoning on her overcoat. It was growing far too chilly, and her phone alerted her of a chance of hailstorms. Stars and stones, she thought, replacing the phone in her pocket. This day just gets better. "No, Eames, we're going to the river." To all the world, it seemed as though she was talking to herself. But today, this day of days, Friday could care less.

The river path was silent, not a soul excepting a runner wearing far too little clothing for such a cold day. Make no mistake, Friday was a great fan of running, but when she did, she wore clothing a bit more modest (or at least warm). After the runner, though, there was very little to distract her from her foul mood. She seethed, relating to the Shuppet in her shadow all of the unfairness endured through the past week. He knew it all, of course, but listened for politeness' sake.

Out of disgust for Hastur Dynamics and herself in general, she kicked at a rock, scuffing her custom Armani shoes. The rock bounced along the path, but did not roll to stop with a satisfying noise. Instead, it sounded as if it had hit some kind of cloth. Friday investigated, finding a wallet nestled in a crack in the tarmac, where grass and tar fought for dominance.

She opened it, scanning the ID with disinterest. It belonged to Nick Cormack, who was one of her former bosses. He was also an enormous creep, and had skirted the edge of sexual harassment with the red-eyed woman more than once. The right thing to do is to to give this back, but if I do, it'll give him another chance to hit on me. For a moment, Friday was caught in a moral debate. She tapped the thick and heavily scented leather to her lips once or twice, deep in thought, before drawing a conclusion. A small smile twisted her face.

With a mighty wind-up, she chucked the wallet into the river, where it fell with a satisfying plop! <You're too cruel,> came a voice from her shadow, but she ignored it. Instead, Friday Hastur straightened her tie and turned on her heel, walking away from the river with a spring in her step.

[Troy Bolton]

Approved, Bogart.

[Troy Bolton]

Properly edited, MH's is approved.

[Troy Bolton]

LA is approved.

[Troy Bolton]

UC is approved, but from now on, guys: just post when you've got the comparison up. I don't get alerted to edits, only replies.

[Ganymede]

Haunted's Second Character App
'Cause there's an app for everything.
Hall of Infamy: 15/15
Lost in Lenolia: 15/15

Everyone is different. It's one of those little quirks that have kept the human race alive so long - our ability to adapt, to change in accordance to our situations. Those placed at the top of the social hierarchy are no different. It may seem like they simply avoid the struggles of life, but they do, in fact, play a deadly game not so much unlike that of basic survival.

And when you're on the top, you've got a lot more to lose.

Terry Ingress stood back and frowned severely, highlighting the creeping age lines on her forehead and around her eyes. No matter how much she fussed and fiddled, it just didn't look right. And tonight, above all others, needed to be perfect.

"Ow! Man, don't poke me so hard!" Cameron shouted, wrenching his arm out of his aunt's grasp and looking broodily at the tiny pinprick. He did not like this one bit. Why did he have to have this stupid big party anyway? He was only turning seventeen. It wasn't like his life was going to drastically change within the next few months or anything. Feeling Terry tug at his sleeve, he reluctantly allowed her to lift his arm, turning to glare at himself in the mirror. Ever-so-slightly tanned skinned - the magazines called it 'sunkissed' - brushed back platinum hair, those gorgeous sky-blue eyes the girls literally swooned for. Cameron Ramirez was, in the eyes of the public, damn sexy. He thought so too, and it was a shame that for the whole night he'd be stuffed into a monkey suit. It was an Arnami but all Cameron could see was a stuffy pinch-fest. And terry certainly wasn't helping.

"Okay! Okay! I look good enough; you can let me go now!" Ignoring his aunt's rebuff he turned and brushed past her, yanking Runner off the table where he'd been stuffing himself with Grepa berries. Shep was already waiting by the dressing room door, tail slapping against the marble floor; a pure-diamond collar glinted at his neck. It was gaudy and looked as painful as Cameron's suit. Leaning down (and no doubt giving Terry a heart attack; that suit was meant to look pretty and be stood rigidly straight in and not much else) he rubbed Shep's crest, eliciting a happy woof from the Electrike.

"Don't worry, Shep," he muttered, straightening up and wincing as the suit crushed what felt like eight ribs. "All we gotta do is walk in, say hi to Damian and his toadies, get some cake, and get the hell out." His presents - more like bribes so his father wouldn't bankrupt them all - would be opened by maids and neatly deposited to his half of the penthouse later. Terry would clean his clothes and send them off, a new pair to be ordered the next year. And soon enough, the cycle would repeat.

Cameron was perfectly fine with the money and fame, but when it came to all these stupid public affairs he just wanted to take his share of the fortune and leave. Damian's cruel-eyes smile and his threats of abandonment, however, kept him firmly rooted into the world of upper-crust suck-ups and their petty little games. He needed a break - thank Arceus his tour was coming up soon. A few weeks around Furoh without Damian looming over him would be good for him.

The maids on either side of the huge wooden doors - both embossed with the finest crystal - bowed before pushing the giant slabs open. Cheers and applause exploded around Cameron as he put on his award-winning smile and strode through the crowd, his light blue eyes meeting the icy pits of his father's.

Look at you. So smug when your little game's being played right. But one day you won't own me anymore, Damian, and I'll be free. Just watch.

"Happy birthday, Cameron."

vs

Dorian padded his way through the tangle of high hells and dress shoes, his paw steps silent on the thick plush carpet. A few of the ladies - sporting faux-Vulpix fur coats; saving the environment was big nowdays, but the need to look great was as in as ever - cooed as brushed by, remarking on how soft and silky his coat looked. The Zorua smirked and basked in the praise, finally making his way to the raised dais where his precious family sat. Well, most of them, anyway - Llewellyn had ran off to his room in tears a while ago and hadn't appeared since. He easily jumped up onto the lap of his beloved owner, snuggling close to the torso.

"There you are, Dorian," the soft voice seemed to carry a lot of weight in the large, crowded room, and a few people turned to stare at its owner. "I was worried you'd lost your way."

"Oh, no need to worry, Miss Gilbert!" A rather portly woman exclaimed, nearly crushing her poor Skitty as she held it to her ample bosom. "We would have surely returned him to you. We can't have you two separated on your big day, after all!"

"Why thank you, Mrs Peabody," Gilbert Alleen Haydn said graciously, looking down at the simpering woman. "And I would have done the same thing for your darling Skitty, if she'd ever left your side." Not that it was likely. The fat boor practically had the cat glued to her dress. Not like she'd ever see the hidden insult - a woman like that had more money than brains. Gil watched with the tiniest of smiles on her face as she gravitated towards the banquet, piled high with all of the twins' favourite foods. Not like Llew would be here to enjoy them - a simple poke at an errant strand of hair had sent Gil's brother to his room in a shower of tears. The Haydn parents had yet to notice - they were much too busy smoking their fancy cigarettes and talking up their neighbours - but that was fine with Gil. More time for her.

Gently lifting Dorian in her arms, she gracefully stepped off the dais, a single strand of her dark violet hair slipping out of the tiara of amethysts atop her head. Almost instantly a Mr Mime in a smart tuxedo appeared and stood on tiptoe, carefully brushing the strand back into place. Without so much as a thank you Gil walked off, making sure to talk to everyone she met.

Oh Lady Haydn, that dress just brings out the light in your eyes.

"Your dress is lovely too, madame! It certainly shows of your cruves." Hugging all your little fat rolls. I've seen thinner Miltank.

Miss Gil, may I say how beautifully those amethysts shine on you!

"Thank you, Sir Robert. I see your watch is as radiant as always." Rhinestones, really? Are you that much of a miser?

On and on it went, an intricate game where Gilbert was the only one who knew every move. Everyone else was merely a piece on the board, a simple toy for her amusement. A true genuine smile crept on to her face as wave after wave of old-money suits wished her and her absent brother a happy birthday, showering her with praise even as she psit acid in their faces.

Oh, how she loved this life!

[Troy Bolton]

Chirp; chirp. Approved, Haunted.

[stbyleth]

A Profile In Which CLW Tries Out

Credentials
in which both are from uprising, as per bogart's permission.
Infiltration—No, Disobedience! • 12/15 
Dança da Morte • 12/15

Scenario
in which Celino Molenaro and Llewellyn Cassius Haydn go shopping when they don't have enough money on their persons.

Oh, it was so pretty! 

The man pressed his face against the window of the small shop, eyes twinkling with want. Everything in the window was oh-so pretty, and he wanted it all. They were in pristine condition… the best one could get! 

Blue impatiently tugged at his pant leg. The Riolu wasn't one to look at things he or his trainer couldn't afford, so he kept his eyes on the sidewalk. They were in a rich part of Arasam, the part where they shouldn't be. Celino didn't have much money, and they both knew it. He looked down at his Riolu and signed, What if we sell things?

Blue just shrugged in response. Before he could even finish said shrug, Celino was already sitting on the sidewalk in front of the shop window. He slung his messenger bag off his shoulder and poured most of the contents onto the ground. A couple of this, a few of that… he would have to go to different stores, but he would certainly be able to buy at least one of what he wanted. That was good enough for him. 

•••

He walked into the store, a bit shy, especially with Blue tucked into his pokéball unwillingly. He couldn't hear the bell attached to the door ringing, but the store clerk — an elderly lady — did. She looked over at him, wrinkles on her face showing a lopsided smile. Celino gave a timid wave and showed her a prewritten note on his pad of paper.

I'd like the cheapest in the window please. I'm sorry, I can't hear!

The woman read it over, nodded, and retrieved the product from the window. In a few more minutes, the transaction was complete, and Celino was proud of himself.

Oh how pretty that looked!

It would look so well with his outfit he would be wearing at his birthday party in the next few days. It would be better than whatever his sister — Gilbert Haydn — would be wearing, as it was technically their birthday. He hated being twins sometimes, especially when the other constantly boasted that she was three minutes older and therefore the better one. If anything, Mother and Father loved him more. The proof? He had three Pokémon from the mysterious land Unova… one more than Gil! Ha! He won. 

But it was his time now! He shouldn't be thinking of his damned sister… no! Llewellyn Cassius Haydn, of Hearthome City, marched right into that store and demanded everything over 10 000 poké be his. The old lady nodded and hurriedly gathered everything. Llew watched her with cautious eyes, every so often flattening that one strand of damn lavender hair that always refused to stay in tune with the rest of his hair. The few Mr. Mime he had brought, aptly dressed in tailored tuxedos, began carrying all the bags and such out to their expensive car (he only used the limo for special occasions). 

Llew was rich, not incompetent. He liked paying for things with his plastic cards more than being away from the people lesser than him. It made him feel good, no matter how twisted that sounded. The Haydn boy took out the wallet from a pocket within his coat — only did he carry it when he shopped — and pulled out the first of many credit cards. He handed it to the lady. He smiled. 

That smile was broken when she told him it was declined.

Llewellyn began losing his cool demeanour at that point. He pulled out another card, only to be disappointed when that one was also declined. The next four, the final ones, were also declined. 

By this time, it was clear in his soft purple eyes that he was about to lose it. He refused to take the cards as he watched the Mr. Mime bring the bags back in, sulking slightly. Pressing the hair back down again, he left the store and climbed into the back of the car. His Minccino cocked a fluffy head towards him before frowning sadly. He climbed into Llewellyn's lap as the car began tooting away, plump tears falling copiously from Llew's lap, and hugged his master.

[Troy Bolton]

Yep, you're good, clocklockworks.

[Kamaitachi]

DURR NURR APPLICATION

RP grades:
Lost In Lenoilia: 15/15
When Crime Pays: 14/15


Scenario: Taggarty Lee and Francesco Rojas find a penny.

Adopting his usual, somewhat lenient pace, Taggarty Lee was headed out of Petropolis. All his business had been accomplished, and the only destination he could even think of was Lenoilia. A poor choice, naturally, but he was in the mood to investigate.

Even with his objective in mind, he found himself in absolutely no rush to get there. Fresh from his victory in the Petropolis gym, he figured the trip to Lenoilia would be much like a quiet constitutional, with only his pokemon partners for company. That was how he liked it.

As he approached the outskirts of the bustling metropolis of Petropolis, he small glint caught his eye. Looking down, he saw a coin, partially submerged in the dirt. From the looks of it, it couldn't have been much more than a penny.

In fact, it was.

"Huh." he voiced aloud to no one, looking around almost suspiciously. Bending down slowly, he plucked it from the ground, examining it closely. The poor thing had been lodged there underfoot by some careless passerby. He wasn't exactly sure why it caught his eye, but it really wasn't anything more than a penny. There was nothing extraordinary about it, and there was certainly no use for it. Pennies were essentially obslete these days, anyways.

With a nonchalant shrug, he placed it back down on the ground. He was taking a trip to Lenoilia, therefore he wanted peace and quiet rather than luck. Perhaps someone else could use the luck that day.

vs

He hated running errands for his Aunt and Uncle's Tailor shop. It usually implied that he had to travel via Speed, his family's Skarmory. The pokemon in question had made it perfectly clear that he was in no way fond of Cesc, and often attempted to make the trips as hellish as possible.

Today was no exception. As the Silver bird landed on the ground, he jerked forward, tossing Cesc up into the air. The teen sailed unceremoniously through the air and landed on the ground with a rather loud: "Ooomph".

Hopping up as there hadn't been an impact at all, Cesc shook his fist at the giant metal chicken, calling it just that as he dusted himself off. Perhaps he would've learned after the first trip that wearing white was a bad idea. Here he was now, though, with dust and dirt all over the formerly pristine white shirt-sleeves. The grey satin vest had a small rip over his heart, and his formerly-perfectly pressed slacks were now all rumpled. At least the stylish black silk scarf he'd worn still seemed in good condition. Speed never allowed Cesc to appear pristine after an excursion.

As he preened for a moment, something caught in the corner of his eye. He looked down at the ground to see a penny placed on the ground. Had he inspected closer, he might've noticed the deliberation with which the penny had been placed.

"Oh, a penny!" he beamed "And it's heads up." He snatched it up from the ground, flashing it in front of Speed "It's good luck. You know what, Turkey? I'm keeping it. I'm keeping the luck." Speed seemed quite uninterested in Cesc's taunts and jibes, and stood there looking boredly over at him.

"Penny saved is a penny earned, too, you know?" Cesc flashed another grin at his Uncle's pokemon "I'll save it for the shop. See that, Birdbrain? I'm pretty selfless after all." He struck something of a cool pose, flipping his scarf over his shoulder so it would catch in the wind as he walked. He rested one hand akimbo while the other hand pressed lightly over his heart. With his head pointed downwards at an angle and his eyes closed, he presented what he thought was an accurate portrayal of modesty.

"Alas, it is time to do my duties then. Shouldn't be too bad; I've got some good luck on my side today."

[Troy Bolton]

Approved!

[Douken Sota]

First off, level check:

Absolutely Awesome in Airy Arasam: 15/15
Lackadaisical Repose and Leery Rascals at Loch Ranch: 15/15

Next up:

The chirping of the Pidgey filled the air, the long night's rest finally turning to morning. Giving out a bit of a stretch, Douken sat himself up, and looked around. His Pokemon were still asleep, not like it mattered, as they deserved it. Letting out an early morning yawn, he got himself off the dusty floor, patted himself off, and decided to look for something to consider breakfast.

Looknig around, he examined the valley floor, seeing how much tall grass was around him, trees sparced around the area. The sound of Rattata skirmished around, seeming like they were after the same thing, watching them try to climb a nearby tree. Though probably why, he still turned his head upwards to see what they were after: a set of freshly grown Oran berries.

Deciding to help them out, he walked up, through the mere movement caused them to scatter a bit, giving him room to climb. Taking the tree branch in hand, he lifted himself up, pulling himself a couple branches high until reaching the fruit they were after. "Some do believe the best ones are the ones grown higher up," he mused himself as he began picking the berries from the branches, placing them in his lap until he around four, beofre taking them back down. Placing the hard fruit onto the grassy floor, he walked away and watched the purple rats come back, examining what was left for them before gnawing away happily, placing a smile on Douken's face.

VS.

The amp screeched to life as the six string was plugged in, his fingers rolling over the strings quickly as his ears caught each ping of the string. Perfectly in tune, he thought before strumming downward, releasing a loud boom throughout the town. He let the note hang out there for a while before starting up his rhythm, a low sounding set of quick strums gave him his basic rhythm as his foot began to take the steps of it before letting his fingers roll across the board.

This did not please the neighbors one bit, especially since it was 3 in the morning, and people were trying to sleep. They kept screaming phrases like, "Shut that racket off," and "We are trying to sleep here!" One man even called the police. Not like he cared. When they came up to him, catching his attention by unplugging the speaker, he asked them, "Hey cares, you hear for my autograph?"

Clearly, they weren't but it's not like he cared. "You sure, guys? Cause you are going to miss out when I become the first rock star coordinator! My mad beat will be all over the radio waves, and my Pokemon will be on the television world wide." Still didn't mean he didn't get himself a pair of handcuffs for the night for disturbing the peace... again.

[Kamaitachi]

J'approve! You're good to go.

[Captain Combuske...]

It's time to Unleash Zack Edgars upon Furoh.

RPs:
Sailors and a Golden Magikarp: 11/15
In the Jungle, the Mighty Jungle: 12/15

Scenario: Well, leaving home really. That's the theme, if you like. Except it's Alex's brother who's doing it, and not Alex, he's still on Holiday at home.
Zack is basically starting his journey.

The air was cold and dry. It was the cruel and evil season of winter. Winter, that cruel witch, that merciless murderer. She had crept in and now was making her presence felt. Pokemon and people alike were suffering in her reign.

But Winter was not Alex Slasher's greatest tormentor. This person sat smugly in its warm yet old chair; James. His younger brother. Alex would much rather sit out in the vicious cold than be sitting opposite James Slasher. "Slasher" was an odd name; Alex's ancestors had been adept fighters in war, they'd been cruel and merciless. Nowadays though, the Slashers were kind people. It showed in Alex’s treatment of his Pokemon; he was gentle, he cared for them a lot (so much so that he frequently burst in to tears or at least his eyed welled up when one of them even fainted) and he went to great lengths to make them both strong and happy.

James Slasher though fitted the ancestral name. His word had been Punch. When Alex had returned for Christmas, he said "hey, I got my Wobbuffet back!". And when Alex showed his new Pokemon to his family, James merely looked excited at the prospect of having more victims to his harsh treatment. In brief, Alex hated his brother with a passion for his awful behaviour. In fact, it was this behaviour that had brought up the current problem.

"James, say sorry for hurting your brother." said the boys' mother gently.

"Sorry." retorted his brother (who was not a brother in his treatment of Alex in any way) in a mocking voice.

"Like you mean it, dear" said Rose Slasher, almost singing as she did. But James Slasher did not reply. he simply stared at his masterpiece. Alex's bright orange hair was ruffled and out of shape. There were patches of sickly purple blotted all over Alex and in fact, in one or two places, a small stream of dark red running down him, the source of which could be traced back to an open wound. His [parents were yet to notice these finer details, the worst of the damage James had done to Alex.

"Will all due respect, darling, I don't think that Sorry will suffice," said Paul Slasher, Alex's father. He then said in a shocked voice whilst staring at the gashes on Alex's body "Is that... Blood? Caused by James?"

Alex simply nodded. It was time enough that James' actions were getting recognized. When his brother had likened Alex to a Wobbuffet, he hadn't been joking. It wasn't the only time an incident such as the one today had occurred Alex remembered a lot of the violent episodes in his life vividly. Before, Alex hadn't had the mental strength to tell his parents. But his journey had changed him. He was stronger now. Now his parents knew. After Paul Slasher's question, there was silence as two people in the room tried to make sense of what had happened. they were in shock. After a few minutes, Rose Slasher spoke. her voice this time was not gentle and sweet, it was harder, it was nervous, tearful even.
"James, get out of my house. And stay out." Alex looked at his mother. She was shaking. A tiny drop of water hurried down her cheek. This shone beautifully as it sparkled in the light as it fell.

James also looked at his mother. Then, he turned to his father, whose eyes were closed and whose head was bowed in shame. Suddenly, Alex's parents were realizing what they had created, and were ashamed about it and the fact that they'd let it happen for so long. Alex didn't blame them, though. Some people were just evil by nature, and it took vast effort to change them. One of these people was his brother.

James now turned his attention to Alex. His eyes showed no emotion. He cared no longer. He silently pushed himself out of his chair and headed upstairs. Silence reigned in the Slasher house. people still moved, but said nothing. Nothing really needed to be said.

Half an hour later James Slasher came downstairs. He carried a bad crammed full on his back and trailed a suitcase behind him. Alex watched him carefully as he made his way over to the door. His brother opened the door to his new life and looked back into his old one.
"Stupid life anyway" he said, and then left. Alex felt that James’ words completely summed him up.

A few days later, his bruises now gone and his gashes healing, Alex sat in his room, not speaking a word. His mind was racing, his thoughts running wildly like a train that didn't stop going until it hits a brick wall. he was thinking about his brother. He sighed. He reached into his backpack and pulled out his Pokegear. It was becoming an invaluable tool for Alex. One picture of a Pokemon and you knew instantly about it due to the Dexter app. He gave you the name, type and a description of the Pokemon. But even better; for newbie trainers it gave you the moves it could learn, when it evolved and even places to find more of the creatures once caught! Then there was the clever PC system (which currently only worked within a mile of a Pokemon Center) allowing you to easily store and withdraw your Pokemon. There was also a map app detailing Furoh, Games, and a phone system, as well as a music player. But right now, Alex turned to another app. One that looked like a Pokeball. He tapped it lightly. The screen switched to icons of six Pokemon. He straight away tapped the top left icon. Blaze. His best friend. Alex tapped all the other icons too. All his Pokemon. He had some training to do. His thought returned briefly to James. he hoped that James would change. he wanted his brother to be good, to love Pokemon as he did, to have Pokemon of his own whom he cherished. But it would a while for that to happen.

The rhythmic thud of his shoes pounding the ground kept him going. he had to make it in time; his lateness was stupid. Sure, it followed in the famous Ash Ketchum's footsteps, but Zack Edgars did not want to be just another famous trainer. To his left, Otto, his Oshawott, was sprinting furiously to keep up with his trainer. To his right, Comet, his Ralts, kept teleporting forwards.

Zack kept running. It was difficult, but somehow he managed. His chest was heaving, but he kept running. He couldn't be late. Not now, Not for this. Not for his first day as a trainer.

He looked ahead and his shoulders sagged. In front was a large thorny vine forest. But Zack was ready. he looked left and right at his two Pokemon
"Otto, use your shell! Comet, Fire Punch!"
Both Pokemon nodded. Otto detached his shell from his stomach and ran ahead. Comet focused and set his hand ablaze with mystical fire. It wasn't very strong fire at all, but it would do the trick. Comet teleported far forward to the vines just as Otto got there. The emotion Pokemon and the Sea otter Pokemon worked together as they slashed at the thorned vines skilfully. Within seconds the path was clear and Zack had caught up with his Pokemon. They kept running, with determination completely apparent within their gaze.

After a few more metres of running, Zack saw the hut. Whilst still running, he took his Pokegear from his bag, opened his Pokemon part options and returned his Pokemon. He put the device back into his bag and opened the door. His expression hardened even further as he entered the space where other people were. Zack looked at the class. Everyone was leaving today. Some were becoming trainers, other co-ordinators, some breeders, Pokeathletes, and even one boy, Steve, was planning to be a Pokemon researcher. But all were completely silent.

Even Debbie and Laura, the chattiest, most sociable girls Zack had ever been near, were silent and gazing at him in what Zack thought was mild terror.
Zack turned to the front of the room.
“I apologize for my tardiness, sir. I am afraid that I overslept.”

He looked to the front of the room to Mr. Benn, his teacher. Mr Benn was kindly, old man who used to be a famous trainer in his youth. He now ran a school. Zack knew that Mr. Benn was kind and a very good teacher form his brother and sister, because Mr. Benn had taught his siblings. This was not the Mr. Benn Zack knew. The Mr. Benn Zack knew was a nervous, jittery man who always appeared to be in a rush. Like his words now.

“Umm.. yes. H-hello, Zack. F-Fortunately for you, I hadn’t –um- started yet. It is… erm.. good, though, th-that you are here now.” There was a frown of discomfort on Mr. Benn’s face. Zack hated this. He hated what just being near him could do to others. He wasn’t nasty- sure, he got angry and occasionally was a little violent, but this was because the bastards around him treated him like dirt. The reaction he got just made him hate those around him even more. Zack’s frown hardened even more as Mr. Benn continued.

“So, um, as I-I was s-saying, today you all leave for your g-g-grandest of adventure.” Sweat dribbled down Mr. Benn’s brow.
“I’ve –um- measured your ability over the past f-few weeks and have s-surmised that you are all r-ready to leave. So… umm… Good luck and g-goodbye!”

Upon saying this, Mr. Benn almost ran to his desk. The actions of the rest of the class were very similar; there was a rush and in about thirty seconds the room was empty but for Zack and Mr. Benn. Zack was completely the opposite. He stood up calmly, and gently pushed his chair into his desk. He then took his Pokegear out of his bag, as well as his inhaler. He pressed the inhaler to his lips and pushed the button. He felt immediately relived and much less stressed. It was as if someone had just removed a heavy stone slab form his chest. He headed for the door. He took one last look at his school room, then at Mr. Benn.

“Thank you, sir.” He said to his teacher. Mr. Benn simply nodded. Then Zack quietly left the room.

The school hut itself was located in Daas woods. It was built quite recently and was a big rival to the school is Dass itself, which althoughwas nearer and had better technology, was run by a different person who was not as famous and not as good a teacher.

Presently, Zack turned on his Pokegear. He got his party app, open and sent out all three if his Pokemon.
“Time to go, guys!” he smiled warmly. Otto, who liked to think of himself as tough, rough and cool nodded at Zack. Comet, much warmer and kinder, smiled happily at his trainer. Waggelsworth, the third of Zack’s Pokemon, who was an odd Poliwag who thought he was an old school gentleman, smiled in a very posh way. Then they set off.

After a very short journey, they’d left the gloomy greenery of Daas woods and were now outside in bright pastures. Zack could see Miltank, Tauros and even the occasional Bouffalant grazing in these patures. He smiled. He’d finally started his adventure.

This post has been edited by Proby: Apr 30 2011, 10:02 AM

[Toogee]

I'm afraid I'm going to have to deny this one. Here's why:

1. The point of this exercise is to show the differences between your first and second characters in the same situation. Instead of comparing Zach to Alex, you compared him to James, an NPC. That's not going to work. I want to read about how Zach is different from Alex, not James.

2. In Zach's entry, you kept calling him Alex. Not only does that make reading the entry really confusing, it implies that you can't tell the difference between the two. If you can't tell the difference, I can't either.

I'll let you try again without penalty.

[Captain Combuske...]

It's time to Unleash Zack Edgars upon Furoh.

RPs:
Sailors and a Golden Magikarp: 11/15
In the Jungle, the Mighty Jungle: 12/15

Scenario: Well, leaving home really. That's the theme, if you like. Except it's Alex's brother who's doing it, and not Alex, he's still on Holiday at home.
Zack is basically starting his journey.

Alex Slasher was in a hurry. It was more of an excited Hurry than anything else, but a hurry all the same.
It was early spring. March time. Alex had just received a very important phone call. The phone call had been from a certain person who he met briefly.

The caller's name was Ellis. Ellis Crell. he used to be a Sailor, working in and around Port Barely. But not since his adventure with Alex and the rest of the crew. They'd basically busted a huge Pokemon prison, the owner of which had been Team Deception. in the process, they'd freed Ellis' captured shiny Magikarp. On this island, the young sailor had found out his sexuality. He was gay. Originally, Alex had fled form this, thinking with a terrified thought that Ellis fancied HIM and that he was out to get him. In fact, it had turned out not to be the case, and Alex now had a good friend in Ellis.

Ellis had called on a pressing issue. Ellis now was an explorer, searching the region for fantastic new treasures, and new Pokemon. He was now in the middle of the Aridana desert, the hottest place in the Furoh region. And he'd found something new, and something special. He hadn't told Alex what it was, just asked him to come straight there. Alex had then called anyone he knew who was adventure ready to join him. He was really happy and really excited.

Right now, he was packing his bags. Blaze, his Combusken, was at his side, helping him. Outside, Swamps, his Marshtomp, and Treecky, his Grovyle, were stocking up on new supplies from the woods around. Stryk, his Staravia, was flying around, making sure everyone was OK. Leo and Lucas, his Luxio and Riolu, were on the beach, collecting shells, which could be exchanged in Daas for important items like Pokeballs.

In the Bedroom, Alex was wildly stuffing clothes into his bag. He was feeling rather giddy. he was going to see Tom Hawk, his best friend, again, as well as another great friend in Ellis. He hadn't seen them since autumn, and even earlier than that for Ellis. He couldn't wait. A huge grin spread across his face. He looked at Blaze. The cheerful and determined smiled extremely happily at him. He love his Pokemon. To him, they were basically family. He spent hours training them, making them stronger, polishing their moves. But also, they were great companions. They helped him out when he needed it most, and were there in the worst of times.

There was little else for Alex to say or think than just smile back. He was going to the desert.

The rhythmic thud of his shoes pounding the ground kept him going. he had to make it in time; his lateness was stupid. Sure, it followed in the famous Ash Ketchum's footsteps, but Zack Edgars did not want to be just another famous trainer. To his left, Otto, his Oshawott, was sprinting furiously to keep up with his trainer. To his right, Comet, his Ralts, kept teleporting forwards.

Zack kept running. It was difficult, but somehow he managed. His chest was heaving, but he kept running. He couldn't be late. Not now, Not for this. Not for his first day as a trainer.

He looked ahead and his shoulders sagged. In front was a large thorny vine forest. But Zack was ready. he looked left and right at his two Pokemon
"Otto, use your shell! Comet, Fire Punch!"
Both Pokemon nodded. Otto detached his shell from his stomach and ran ahead. Comet focused and set his hand ablaze with mystical fire. It wasn't very strong fire at all, but it would do the trick. Comet teleported far forward to the vines just as Otto got there. The emotion Pokemon and the Sea otter Pokemon worked together as they slashed at the thorned vines skilfully. Within seconds the path was clear and Zack had caught up with his Pokemon. They kept running, with determination completely apparent within their gaze.

After a few more metres of running, Zack saw the hut. Whilst still running, he took his Pokegear from his bag, opened his Pokemon part options and returned his Pokemon. He put the device back into his bag and opened the door. His expression hardened even further as he entered the space where other people were. Zack looked at the class. Everyone was leaving today. Some were becoming trainers, other co-ordinators, some breeders, Pokeathletes, and even one boy, Steve, was planning to be a Pokemon researcher. But all were completely silent.

Even Debbie and Laura, the chattiest, most sociable girls Zack had ever been near, were silent and gazing at him in what Zack thought was mild terror.
Zack turned to the front of the room.
“I apologize for my tardiness, sir. I am afraid that I overslept.”

He looked to the front of the room to Mr. Benn, his teacher. Mr Benn was kindly, old man who used to be a famous trainer in his youth. He now ran a school. Zack knew that Mr. Benn was kind and a very good teacher form his brother and sister, because Mr. Benn had taught his siblings. This was not the Mr. Benn Zack knew. The Mr. Benn Zack knew was a nervous, jittery man who always appeared to be in a rush. Like his words now.

“Umm.. yes. H-hello, Zack. F-Fortunately for you, I hadn’t –um- started yet. It is… erm.. good, though, th-that you are here now.” There was a frown of discomfort on Mr. Benn’s face. Zack hated this. He hated what just being near him could do to others. He wasn’t nasty- sure, he got angry and occasionally was a little violent, but this was because the bastards around him treated him like dirt. The reaction he got just made him hate those around him even more. Zack’s frown hardened even more as Mr. Benn continued.

“So, um, as I-I was s-saying, today you all leave for your g-g-grandest of adventure.” Sweat dribbled down Mr. Benn’s brow.
“I’ve –um- measured your ability over the past f-few weeks and have s-surmised that you are all r-ready to leave. So… umm… Good luck and g-goodbye!”

Upon saying this, Mr. Benn almost ran to his desk. The actions of the rest of the class were very similar; there was a rush and in about thirty seconds the room was empty but for Zack and Mr. Benn. Zack was completely the opposite. He stood up calmly, and gently pushed his chair into his desk. He then took his Pokegear out of his bag, as well as his inhaler. He pressed the inhaler to his lips and pushed the button. He felt immediately relived and much less stressed. It was as if someone had just removed a heavy stone slab form his chest. He headed for the door. He took one last look at his school room, then at Mr. Benn.

“Thank you, sir.” He said to his teacher. Mr. Benn simply nodded. Then Zack quietly left the room.

The school hut itself was located in Daas woods. It was built quite recently and was a big rival to the school is Dass itself, which althoughwas nearer and had better technology, was run by a different person who was not as famous and not as good a teacher.

Presently, Zack turned on his Pokegear. He got his party app, open and sent out all three if his Pokemon.
“Time to go, guys!” he smiled warmly. Otto, who liked to think of himself as tough, rough and cool nodded at Zack. Comet, much warmer and kinder, smiled happily at his trainer. Waggelsworth, the third of Zack’s Pokemon, who was an odd Poliwag who thought he was an old school gentleman, smiled in a very posh way. Then they set off.

After a very short journey, they’d left the gloomy greenery of Daas woods and were now outside in bright pastures. Zack could see Miltank, Tauros and even the occasional Bouffalant grazing in these patures. He smiled. He’d finally started his adventure.

Is this better?