| Sir Kuss “Circus” | |
|---|---|
| Text Color | Very light grey #CDCDCD |
| Item | Reaper Cloth cape |
| Gender | Male |
| Age | Young adult |
| Species | #475, Gallade, the Blade Pokemon |
| Height | 5'03" |
| Weight | 114.6 lbs. |
| Pokédex Entry | "A master of courtesy and swordsmanship, it fights using extending swords on its elbows.-Pokemon Pearl. |
| Level | 39 |
| Ability | Justified- Raises Attack one stage when hit by a dark type move. |
| Nature | Quirky |
| Characteristic | Somewhat of a Clown |
| Moves | -Hypnosis (Previous evolution) -Shadow Sneak (bred) -Psycho cut (lvl) -Teleport (lvl) |
| History | The Ralts was born with a body as pale as death itself apart from the malevolent red of its blood-colored eyes. Swaddled in a dusty grey cloth not of this world he appeared one day at the edge of the Faerie Woods. The forest Fae, Gardevoir, who lived in the forest were a society united by their ability to read the emotions of others yet they recoiled in terror from the tiny child. They had cast bones, watched the flight of birds in the sky, even asked their Gothitelle neighbours for the signs in the stars and came up with nothing but foul omens. The child was bad luck to the bone, a cursed child chosen by the God of Death to reap his grim harvest. Like all the Gardevoir had their superstitions. One born without color had never been truly born at all; they were a dead spirit that had replaced that of the child and drained their color along with their life. They were the children of the God of Death, cursed forever to bring nothing but harm to others. He could not be kept around their own children for fear of what his curse may do but, at heart, they were compassionate creatures. They could not simply kill him. The Ralts spent his early life on the edge of the woods, left to wander around unsupervised. Every morning there would be a pile of berries waiting for him and every night he would curl up in his grey cloth blanket against the cold. Whenever he tried to approach the pretty lights and talking voices deeper in the woods there would be darkness, a sensation of falling and he’d wake up back beside his blanket. Eventually he stopped trying to reach the lights and focused on other things. Eating, sleeping and looking for other pokemon to play with to develop his psychic powers. Eventually he evolved into a Kirlia. It was at that time he met another one of his species for the first time; a child bold enough to disobey the warnings of the elders. The unnamed Kirlia had been so happy to have someone else to talk to but soon he found his new friend didn’t seem so happy to see him. They would only play for a little bit together before the other psychic type left. At first the other Kirlia made excuses about his parents but the albino wanted real answers. Eventually the other Kirlia told him, telling him of the cursed fate the elders had predicted for the pale child, that he would kill everyone around him. The unnamed Kirlia had been hurt by the accusations. He just sat in the forest and played. He would never hurt anyone. However the albino’s refusal to back down irritated the other Kirlia who picked up a rock with his psychic powers and hurled it at the unnamed albino. In a panic the pale-skinned Kirlia had extended his shadow and tripped his opponent over. The other Kirlia slipped over and cracked his head hard against the trunk of a tree. Running wailing back to his family the other psychic type left the albino with a horrible realization that what it had said might have been true. As years passed the Kirlia found misfortune seemed to follow him. The water dried up and few humans came to the woods. Anyone he tried to talk to ended up facing misfortune. The Pidgey he shared his berries with froze to death over the winter. The Rattata he helped from a trap was eaten by an Ekans. The Lillipup he played with fell into the river and drowned. Eventually it wasn’t just the Gardevoir that began avoiding him. Even the whispers of his Reaper Cloth that used to lull him to sleep seemed filled with accusations from those no longer there. He no longer slept, merely rested while the sting of ghostly whispers tormented him. After the death of her son climbing trees with the albino a mother Ursaring came out for his blood. She hunted him down while he was curled in his cloth bed and attacked him there. Before she could dig her claws fully into his brain, she was shot from behind and collapsed on top of him. The unnamed Kirlia passed out and when he woke he was no longer in the forest. Clutching the Reaper Cloth blanket close to himself he found that he had been saved by a human, the ringleader of a circus. Unknowing of the curse that followed the albino around the human wanted the rare pokemon for his show. The unnamed Kirlia found himself in training to be an acrobat. At the ringmaster’s side was an Absol, a pokemon known for detecting disasters, and it said it sensed nothing stranger about him than his color. The Absol became like a parent to him and agreed to train him so he could stay with the circus forever. The Kirlia began to hope that his curse had just been while he was in the forest. He actually had fun in the circus. Tumbling and dancing and telling jokes to make others smile. It had been a long time since anyone hadn’t looked at him with hostility, let alone smile and he did his best to keep them that way. In due time he became a clown. Eventually his performances were so good the ringmaster bought him the stone necessary to evolve. As a Gallade he was the most elegant of acrobats and the most foolish of clowns. He even gained the name Sir Kuss, spread across the bright colored posters of the travelling show. As time passed he slowly forgot about the curse. Then there was an accident. He had been practising his routine when an old rope had snapped and cut loose the light display. He took a face-full of glass shards that left him permanently scarred but he had gotten off lightly. The Absol was trapped under the heavy metal rods and his spine snapped. While Sir Kuss with blood running into his eyes tried to lift the lights he had smiled a grim smile and raised a paw to the Gallade’s green hand. “It ain’t your fault it’s my time. I ain’t scared, just tell me a good one before I go.” The old dark type had wheezed and, confused Sir Kuss had told him the best joke he could think of. The Absol laughed, a deep coughing rumble. “That’s the way to go. Leave ‘em with a smile.” With a look of peace on his face the elderly dark type passed on leaving Sir Kuss holding one bloodied paw. The albino Gallade realized his curse had come true once again yet, for once, he wasn’t hated for it. It was true beyond doubt he was the cursed child of death but death happened to everyone. Why would he be born if everyone already had their time to die? The answer he came to was this; to hold their hand as they passed into the void. To take away their pain and their fear. To make them smile, make them laugh, make them remember the happy times before they had to go. His own fear fell away as the Absol’s heart stopped beating. Sir Kuss’s carnival mask now became permanent to hide the scars on his face. He still laughed and joked and tumbled with a determination he hadn’t had before. He no longer worried about his fate. He drew the Reaper Cloth around him tightly, now a dramatic cape rather than a blanket, and listened to the soft whispers. It was o.k. The place he sometimes saw when he opened his eyes during Teleport. That was his real home, the land of the God of Death and that’s where he would meet everyone again, once his job was done. When the strange thing happened, that those who had reached the end of their time no longer stayed still, Sir Kuss had no panicked or despaired. When the sharp-toothed undead had torn into the caravan and into the troupe he made no attempt to stop them, merely picked up his injured friends, lulled them to sleep with Hypnosis and took them to the place the whispers in the cloth told him they should go. Then when there was nothing left with his mask a cheerful smile he had pulled his hood over his head, lowered his scythe bladed arms and disappeared. |
| Appearance | "Gallade is a white, bipedal Pokémon. Its lower body consists of rounded hips with strong legs. It has a thin green torso with sharp, red horns sticking out of its chest and back. Its arms are shaped like tonfas with extendable blades in its elbows. It will use its arms like swords in order to protect someone. Its head resembles a gladiator's helmet with a white face and a teal head crest. It has spikes on the sides of its face. It is a master of courtesy and swordsmanship that is capable of predicting its foe’s moves." An albino Gallade wearing a mask in red and black that resembles that of a Harlequin. It has little bells sewn to the ends that jingle faintly with every movement and is made of cloth and plaster. He also wears a hooded cape sewn of Reaper Cloth. This allows him to blend into shadows when using Shadow Sneak. Unlike most Gallade his arms come to curved scythe-like points at the ends instead of straight blades. The normally green parts of his body have become an ashen grey as if all color has leeched from them but his eyes are a bright blood red. Kuss can’t seem to move without adding acrobatic hops, leaps and flips to the motion and appears downright uncomfortable when he has to stay still. If he can’t use his hands to gesture he can’t think of what to say next. He has full control over his teleport which creates a thin cloud of purple smoke whenever he uses it and enjoys performing sleight-of-hand magic. He also enjoys performing physical comedy in slapstick routines and is very flexible. Under his mask his face is very badly scarred. |
| Personality | Kuss sincerely believes he is the cursed child of the god of death and all he encounters have been put there to meet their fate. He is friendly towards living and tries to make them happy but will make no attempt to help them in the event they are injured or attacked. He has no fear, believing all that will happen when he dies is the god of death welcoming him home. He believes his purpose in the world is as a reincarnated reaper, comforting the dying and removing their fears of death before he takes them to the spirit world. He talks in a comic fashion and has a particular fondness for puns and riddling talk but will largely remain silent when alone. Sometimes he will talk to his cape of Reaper Cloth, hearing the faint whispers of ghost voices through the unearthly material. He has a deep belief that the length of a pokemon’s life is predetermined and they will die at the proper time. For that reason he views the undead as ‘empty bodies’ as their spirits have already left and will put them down if he feels threatened. He uses hypnosis to make sure the dying feel no pain before he teleports their bodies to the in-between realm he passes through. |
| User Notes | -Horrible puns. So many puns. -Kuss passes through a different dimension when Teleporting but never stays there for long enough to explore anything of the realm as he cannot breathe the air there. -Based on a Psychopomp, a being that carried souls from life to the next world and the Harlequin archetype. -Themesong is Don't fear the Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult. -Real father was a Dusknoir, sparking the legend in the first place. He takes after his father in many ways and feels he can hear the voices of the dead from his Reaper Cloth, asking he take spirits to the underworld. He often cannot sleep because of these voices. -He will panic if his mask is removed. -Loves seeing pokemon happy. -Will be taking up a Mutator and Shiny ticket |
