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Finnick the Milotic and Haymitch the Marowak [Inactive]

Silverishness

Silverishness: Centurion; Age : 36
Posts : 3208

Post n°1

Finnick the Milotic and Haymitch the Marowak [Inactive]

by Silverishness Sun Aug 12, 2012 8:20 am

Finnick the Milotic and Haymitch the Marowak [Inactive] Finnick

Finnick

Hex Color	#36DBCA
Item	Empoleon skull
Gender	Male
Age	Adult
Species	#350/ Milotic the Tender Pokemon
Height	20'04"
Weight	357.0 lbs

Pokédex Entry	Milotic is breathtakingly beautiful. Those that see it are said to forget their combative spirits.
Level	65
Ability	Marvel Scale
Nature	Quirky
Characteristic	Strong Willed
Moves	-Ice Beam [TM] -Attract -Surf [HM] -Recover

History	Finnick was born to the ocean, the sprawling, crystaline waters, the life it held. Even when he was captured by a fisherman, he didn't mind, as the woman kept him near the waters of his birth, merely using him as an assistant for fishing and gathering shellfish and crustaceans. However, as the fishery was beginning to lose money, he was traded away, as he was a shiny and valuable. The woman and he shared a tearful goodbye as his new trainer, a cold, terrible man, took him and trained him for what he thought all pokemon were for: battle. Finnick was quickly evolved, and even his cold, calculating trainer was surprised by the young, now milotic's, beauty. He quickly devised a way to use this, using him as a breeding stud, selling photos, going to contests, etc. Finnick, though he enjoyed none of this, merely cooperated, since he saw just what happened to the pokemon that disobeyed. He feared for his life, for his old trainer, and did not want to upset the delicate balance he and his new trainer had struck. Things came to a head when he was entered into an annual tourament to the death, with 23 other pokemon. Thrust into such a tournament, especially since he was so young, was almost a death sentence. However, he used his fishery skills, and eventually even perfected his ice beam into a trident as not only to skewer his opponents better, but as a tribute to his old trainer's main tool. It was a terrbile few days that would haunt the milotic for the rest of this life. Nevertheless, with his knowledge of the sea, of hunting, and his expert weilding of his ice beam, he defeated his foes, and emerged the victor. It was during the victor's ceremony that his old owner came, awarding him with an empoleon skull to further the trident symbol. The tool she'd weilded was now his symbol, his mark, his being. He bore it proudly, and though his new trainer was not too enthusiastic, the man let it slide. After his victory, Finnick was sold for studding more often, every Feebas breeder wanting the beautiful pedigree. However, it wasn't long until he was released from this, as the epidemic spread and he left his new trainer to die. He immediately went looking for his old owner, hoping against hope that she'd managed to survive. Even as the weeks turned to months and odds seemed slim, he continues looking, even for a body for him to mourn.
Appearance	Even without the large, intimidating empoleon skull that sits atop Finnick's head like a macabre crown, the incredible, piercing gaze of this pokmeon's sea-splashed eyes spellbinds any onlooker lucky enough to meet his gaze. His coloration is unique; bronze locks frame a muted gold skin, and beautiful green dots his ocean-colored scales. With the added bonus of his species, Finnick is a true beauty, his elegant form effortlessly gliding over terrain and through water alike. Each movement is precise, each attack lethal. A coy grin usually plays at his mouth, as he is very aware of the power his appearance really has, as well as the confidence in his own self.
Personality	A flirtatious, cool front masks a chaotic mind beneath. While he does not often let his fears and nightmares hinder his everyday life -especially if a task or duty is before him- every once in a while, the facade will break, and he will degenerate into a nervous wreck, knotting and untying his antennae like wringing his hands, were he to have any. Otherwise, he is confident, cocky, even playful. He knows the dangers of this world, as he's been in a similar situation prior, and knows his limitations of fun. (Besides, if he's going to go through the apocalypse, why not have a bit of fun?) Anything before that border, however, is fair game. He's generally very willing to go with the flow, choosing a more passive role in a group. Should a crises arise, he transforms into a capable leader, proving he is a force to be reckoned with.
User Notes	-Shows gratitude and other positive emotions in odd ways -When going through stress, he tends to busily fiddle with his antennae, twisting them into knots as he thinks -Has perfected his Ice Beam to resemble a Trident -Based on Finnick Odair from "The Hunger Games"

Finnick the Milotic and Haymitch the Marowak [Inactive] 180px-105Marowak

Haymitch

Hex Color	#8A360F
Item	Bone Knife
Gender	Male
Age	Adult
Species	#105/ Marowak, the Bone Keeper Pokemon
Height	3'03"
Weight	100.7 lbs

Pokédex Entry	Small and weak, this Pokémon is adept with its Bone Club. It has grown more vicious over the ages.
Level	50
Ability	Rock Head
Nature	Adamant
Characteristic	Alert to Sounds
Moves	-Bone Club -Headbutt -Dig (TM) -Brick Break (TM)

History	Haymitch was one of those pokemon that never got a break in life. He was born in Orre, which was rife with poverty to begin with, but his hometown of Pyrite was the bottom of the barrel of wealth the region had to offer. With everything falling apart and in near ruins, he soon found himself up for sale by his human owners. It didn't take long for him to be sold, as he was a rare pokemon in a foreign land, his new owner welcoming him into the team with open arms. While Orre was too poor to sport a League of its own, Colisseum battles were all the rage. His owner was an avid participant, and trained him in smaller competitions. All the while, Haymitch learned to love his companions, his teammates. Even love braced the stubborn adolescent, finding it in a mienfoo on the team. However, his success in the colisseums caught the attention of one particular spectator, a man that Haymitch would always live to regret meeting. Haymitch never learned his name, nor did he really care to remember it. All he knew was the man's face, his voice, his awful blood-tainted scent of rose. The man "bought" Haymitch from his previous owner to participate in something he only referred to as "the Games", whisking the cubone away from his trainer, his team, his love to a cruel regimen of fighting. At first, it seemed like some terrible training routine, working night and day to become as strong as he possibly could. He saw the other participants, the "competition", and worked himself to the bone trying to achieve evolution. Without it, he wasn't sure what would happen. Unfortunately, he didn't achieve it in time, short only by a few mere levels. Then, the Games began. Thrust into an arena he'd never seen before, he and a gargantuan amount of pokemon were told to kill each other to live. The larger, more terrifying pokemon acted first, taking out dozens in a few short attacks. Immediately, he ran, taking a small satchel of berries with him deep into the arena, away from the initial slaughter the first battle proved to be. Terrified, alone, and unsure of whether he would wake up when he slept, Haymitch weathered the next few days, traveling in a single direction, simply looking for the end of the hell he'd been placed in. He even sharpened his bone into a large knife, making his only true weapon even more deadly. There, he endured battles, strafes and terrible illusions brought on by a dark fox he could never reach, never touch. These terrible things that simply happened out of the blue were because of that damned fox, and never was he able to even lay a claw on him. He found some sort of ally in a flaaffy, another from Pyrite to accompany him. While each was aware that one of them had to die, they were reluctant to commit such an act when they each viewed each other as kin. They continued the journey until at last, they found the end of the arena... which had nothing there. Emptiness. When the flaaffy suggested going back, Haymitch refused, staying with the strange emptiness the arena's end offered, away from the terrible things the fox caused. He tossed a pebble down into the depths of the arena, contemplating suicide, when oddly enough, it came right back, obediently to his hand. For a while, as he never counted the days, he took simple amusement into throwing the pebble down and watching it came right back up. It wasn't until he heard a commotion nearby that he stopped. He found his flaaffy partner dead, skewered by strange bird's beaks. Knowing this was the fox's doing -as no other pokemon attacks with fucking BIRDS- he went on a rampage to find the bastard, only to find himself with a bloodied Medicham, armed to the teeth with blades. It was a quick battle, Haymitch's low level proving his detriment when the medicham scored a large gash on his belly, spilling his innards. The cubone managed an equally fatal strike, and made for the arena's end nearby, the other pokemon straggling his heels. In a last-ditch effort to kill the cubone, she threw one of her blades, missing and sending it into the abyss the arena's end provided. Of course, it came right back up, effectively killing the medicham. Haymitch won. With that last death, a bright light surrounded the cubone, his body evolving before it bled out. TYhe new marowak was sent straight into Center care, healing him and making him brand new. But of course, they could not heal mental wounds. While he was scarred and traumatized by his time in the arena, all he wanted was to return home to his trainer and team, wishing nothing more than to see the pokemon he loved. They were all dead. The human that claimed himself his owner was there, standing clean amidst the blood-ridden mess Haymitch's former home was. His winning strike was a mockery against what his precious "Games" stood for, and that this would be a proper reminder. He left, leaving Haymitch to himself, in a world that no longer meant anything to him. To ensure that the marowak would not try anything drastic or rash, his love, his most precious, was kept with the man, ensuring his cooperation. With her gone, with everyone gone, the marowak drowned himself in alcohol, stealing it from local stores and cellars, going through life in a drunken haze to forget his woes. Years, he went through this, progressing from mere adolescence to adulthood with nothing but his sharpened bone club and a bottle of Jack. He traveled on ships, trains, anything-- a nomad in search for more booze to ease the pain he bears. One final trip -he's not sure on what, as he was too drunk to remember- brought him to Citadark Isle, where he first met the denizens of the Epidemic. There he stayed, dwelling within the fortress, living off the scattered remains the gansters left behind.
Appearance	The rusty color of his hide comes not from a shiny gene, but from layer upon layer of dirt, rust, booze and dried blood. His skin is scarred, dity and uncared for, as cosmetics are the least of his worries. While he enjoyed training in the past, he now seldom keeps up with his physique, giving him some cushy areas. He typically holds himself with bitterness, anger and an air of hopelessness that only a true drunk can procure.
Personality	Haymitch is not a pokemon for change, especially if another suggests it. He has his own mind, and goes by it and it alone. Only if his life is in danger will he consider listening to another; otherwise, they can just screw themselves. This indifference effects all traits of his personality, rendering him blunt, harsh, and bitter, as he retains all the bitterness he's built up over the many years of pain he's endured. He gets especially irritable when he's been without booze for more than a day. With his never ending bitterness comes his deep-seated thirst for revenge, wanting all who made him so miserable to pay for their crimes. The pokemon who attacked him -all of which are dead anyway-, the fox that tormented him and killed his ally, and most of all, the human that orchestrated it all. This, the glimmer of hope that his lover still lives and booze are the only things keeping him going. Despite his tough talk, however, the trauma from the Games still has its toll on his mind, tormenting him with endless nightmarish visions, both in the throes of dreaming and in his waking eye. Constantly, he is armed with the same sharpened bone that helped save him in the arena, the only thing that gives him security. Above all, he is a dark-humored cynical being, finding hope, virtue and all of that bullshit to be just that-- bullshit. The light in his life is gone, and anyone else that still has it is just a naive kid.
User Notes	-Based on Haymitch Abernathy from "The Hunger Games".