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Character Count: 101
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With the cooling season of Autumn, Ice-types are starting to re-emerge from their hibernation as Ghost-, Normal-, and Flying-types swarm in the largest numbers they will all year. In comparison, wild Fire- and Bug-type populations are falling in number. The migration of Flying-types to the south in search of warmer weather has also started, as Istin City starts to re-freeze and Autumn marks the beginning of Cypwater Point's rainy season. Handlers and Rogues alike should be wary: Ghost-type powers are boosted during this season, at the cost of being more prone to their triggers.

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 Hound, Fang || Rogue
Korosensei
 Posted: Apr 3 2017, 12:39 PM
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Stupidface McNoctowl
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Total Posts: 1614
Member No. 1923
Joined on 24-February 15.


Characters:
Alexander Fitzgerald | Emilie Chartoire

Awards: 5




Character: Hound

Full Name: Hound
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Homosexual

Class: Rogue
Starting City: Navdia Crater
Patron or Trick Lord: N/A
Notches: Lv.02 [ .4 / 5 ]
Total Level: Lv.02 [ .4 / 5 ]
Condition: Fine
Aptitudes


Overall Appearance:
    Hound is seated firmly in the realm of averages, and he likes it that way. By no other determining factor, attitude is everything in how he should choose to be observed. His skin isn’t much darker than the sand that blows through Navdia Crater on any given day, allowing him to sink into the background unnoticed. Watchful brown eyes are only rarely accented with sharp lines of khol, framed by the natural arch in his dark brows. His hair falls to his shoulders in uneven but texturally camouflaged black waves, cut with whatever knife he had on hand when it needs managing. Whether short or long, it has a tendency to curl under any hint of moisture - and that’s part of why he doesn’t keep it too short. He doesn’t want to look like a sooty cottonee at first brush with water. Since he favors a bit of length on it, Hound usually ties it back with a leather cord to keep his hair out of his way. While his beard isn’t much to speak of, it’s trimmed more carefully than the hair on the top of his head, kept at a length that’s little more than stubble.

    In terms of build, Hound tops out at around 5’9” and straddles the fence between lean and athletic. A lifetime of climbing and conditioning has melted just about every ounce of fat off of him, something that he wears loose clothing to camouflage and redirect attention from. An easy grace stems from the pushing demands he’s placed on his body over the years, ironing out deficiencies that would endanger him on a job through sheer force of will and many an hour of dedication. But because of the strength and core control he needs for work and play, Hound is heavier than he looks … something some people have found out the hard way when they try to knock him off balance. His calloused grip is nothing to shake a stick at, either, and he knows it.

    Though Hound isn’t afraid of getting dirty - he’s spent enough of his youth in it, after all - he does cut a clean figure in the right clothes. Particularly off-whites that are paired with jewel colors, given the pleasant contrast against his skin. For the most part Hound isn’t particularly fussed about his garments outside of their intended purpose, though, and more often than not that purpose is to blend in with the current crowd. That can mean anything from ratty piecemeal that’s difficult to distinguish the fabric’s original color or pattern to a carefully stored set that was tailored and kept clean, barefoot or sandaled to wearing soft-soled leather boots that still allow him to grip with his toes while climbing but offer the outward appearance of normal niceties.

    Admittedly, Hound does like jewelry - it’s just not practical for him to wear it openly. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop him from collecting a single trinket for himself, and he’s particularly proud because it symbolizes when he finally had enough standing wealth to commission his own instead of pilfering it. The silver ring is a study in elegant simplicity, sized to fit his middle finger, and the plain band surfaces into a signet-style surface along the top. A Balican Mind’s Eye is carved into the surface of the ring, filled with minuscule gold tracings to emphasize the design. Because of Hound’s habit of keeping the things he values close, close enough that he can still drop everything and run if the need calls for it, that ring is worn under his shirt on the same leather cord as a priceless memento. That memento is the wickedly curved canine of his first partner, carefully extracted and set into a steel base around the roots, attached to the cord with an eye hook.
Distinguishing Features:
  • A voice like sandalwood and soft leather.
  • Ambidextrous.
Overall Personality:
    Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure. People can be born of powerful bloodlines, but you have to be smart to survive. Hound views his body as an extension of his mind, and knows that what one can’t see is his greatest tool and weapon. Unfortunately for Hound, his tongue sometimes runs away with him - and leashing it is a reluctant task. After having spent his early childhood being looked down on as a gutter waif, the fact that he’s come as far as he has spurs the desire to prove he’s not the same person, to himself if no one else. It’s an insecurity he has trouble acknowledging in the mirror, that he doesn’t particularly want to admit at all. He likes to play at neutrality, but Hound nevertheless looks down on people who voice the opinion that there’s a straight dichotomy in terms of intelligence. His book learning has consisted of what he stole for himself over the years, and as much as he loves the smell of parchment, he knows that his street smarts are just as important as his snatches of higher learning. It doesn’t change the fact that his verbose vocabulary is compensation for his shoddy beginnings.

    There’s more than one way to skin a purrloin. Although a planner by nature, often with multiple in the background of his mind, Hound isn’t above improvisation when a situation goes pear-shaped. Failure happens. He intends to learn from it when it does, and avoid it if he can. Just because it’s a fact of life doesn’t mean he hasn’t learned to think on his feet, because it keeps him off his arse.

    If you can’t dazzle them with dexterity, baffle them with bullshit. Hound is a people-watcher, and has learned to read them well. He may mostly be self-taught beyond the basic offerings of the Church, but he’s learned that books are only half the battle. In order to succeed, you have to know people. You have to know what will get a pass when put on the spot, how to look like you belong when you don’t. The importance of body language was clear to Hound from a young age, and he learned to fit in with whatever the situation called for - the subservient bow of his head, biting his tongue to keep it from giving him away in the meantime, the slouch of a harmless drunk, the air of authority that comes from minimalist body language and people in charge.

    Everybody lies, but it doesn’t matter because no one truly listens. Hound is quietly suspicious of people, suspicious that they might have ulterior motives. He therefore takes a wide berth of open generosity, feeling that few truly mean the offer with no strings attached. Everyone has a lie that they carry around with them, even if they’re only lying to themselves. It doesn’t stop him from watching for it. To him, everyone has the potential to be dangerous - even if that danger is entirely unintended.

    Man is his own worst enemy. Ultimately, people wear him out. As much as Hound integrates himself with them, every so often he simply has to step back and recoup. He’s developed a fondness for high, hard to reach places. The fact that he’s so confident in his skill set means he’ll climb whatever surface he has to to get out of bounds without a second thought, without safety gear even if it is available.

    Music is the purest form of magic. Hound has a bit of a love affair with words, given his affection for colloquialisms and witty banter, but it doesn’t stop there. Given that the popularity of novels is very much a novel concept with the shiny new printing press, the stories told via song hold a place close to his heart. They transported him to some place new and different, told tales grand and bold. He often seeks out establishments that can carry a good tune, regardless of what genre the local talent prefers. Hound often hums to himself when he isn’t occupied by a job, but it often takes a little wine to loosen his inhibitions about singing in front of others - not because his voice is lacking, but simply because of past associations that might make it a touch uncomfortable sober.

    The only reason people get lost in thought is because it's unfamiliar territory. Before he learned to leash his tongue the hard way, Hound’s snark got him backhanded and worse when he was the low man on the rungs of success. Yet, hiding behind his low-key sarcasm is the fact that his mind is never quiet. For that and other reasons he often has trouble sleeping, but he nevertheless cross examines nearly every piece of information he comes across. It therefore sometimes takes him longer than most people to reach final conclusions on important decisions during his downtime, when his mind isn’t tuned into a “do it now” survival mode.

    There’s a difference between giving up and strategic disengagement. Philosophy is for quiet nights, but it doesn’t help him when the grit gets his trousers in a twist. Above all, Hound is a tactical thinker. There is no space for the luxury of moral high ground when pinned down. Hound is intimately familiar with getting the losing end of a deal, and has learned when to cut his losses and run - because at least if he runs, he’ll survive. Hound has lived in the survival mindset for enough years to make snap tactical decisions, and hopes that by this point in his life he’s learned enough to not screw himself over in event of an unexpected variable. For that same reason, he’s an opportunist - if presented with a glass half-full or half-empty question, he’d drink it and say the problem was solved.

    Good enough for government work. Though the quip comes from his younger days when he had less respect for what his opposition was required to do, it actually is the summary of how he feels about his religious beliefs. Hound likes to call himself a “coattail Balican,” in that he likes the ideas but doesn’t fully buy into the practices and even as an adult has trouble grasping why metaphysical gods would desire offerings for more than posterity’s sake. Nevertheless, he considers himself aligned with the Mind path because of how his values overlap with it, and sees his triad pursuit - the will to survive is a necessity if one is to make changes for anyone else, knowledge in order to better oneself, and understanding of emotion to know how and what to expect of those around him - to be an active form of worship rather than fully symbolic ceremonies.
History:
    Important NPCs

    Cards can make gold and people disappear.
    A harsh environment makes for a hardy breed. Hound’s memories of his mother are spotty, and he doesn’t even particularly care that much. He knows his father was never part of his life, and that his mother had an addiction to things she couldn’t afford: Gambling and wine. But Navdia was a big city, and there were ways to make money. Sometimes that involved selling herself for some coin to rub together, sometimes it was packages that she’d smacked his hands for touching. Those packages were never in their two-room shanty for long - and the people to come and pick them up usually had an air of danger about them. His mother often shooed him to the other room when they came, but he needed none of it. Staying away from them seemed like a good idea.

    Ironically, Hound remembered those packages more than his mother’s face. He always did have an insatiable curiosity to know what everything was and how it worked. That curiosity was also why he often had an ear pressed against the door rather than play with a wooden top during adult time, and why he learned that gold made the world spin. Hound was young when the word ‘debt’ cemented itself into his vocabulary. He wasn’t much older when the time came to collect, maybe six, and the terms that the boy eavesdropped on were enough for him to take his chances with the streets before they came back on the deadline.

    Hunger makes many a man a thief.
    He was already a scrawny little scamp - a little dirt and he blended right in with the rest of the so-called riffraff on the streets. The first thing Hound learned that was what he had before, while not consistent in food, was otherwise steady. He could count on his mother settling into her cups, sometimes throwing them and other things at him if it was an irritable day for her, men coming and going, but generally being left in quiet safety when she went to play cards at a nearby tavern. He had learned to recognize the normal dangers and when to play along or fly the coop. There was a harsh learning curve, and when Hound looks back, he acknowledges that he’s lucky none worse happened than it did. An unattended child was ripe with opportunity for the untoward, and he had managed to skirt the attention of the worse flavors.

    The second thing he learned was that begging was shoddy business. More than one hand asking for alms got chased away, and Hound recognized the same air of danger in the men that sometimes lingered with the older girls as the men that came and went from home. It was subtle, but there. No, it was simpler to go after the low-hanging fruit. At first, Hound just hung back and watched the older street kids that seemed to know what they were doing. Brush up against someone during the busiest times of the day while they’re already distracted, apply a little slip of the hand, and relieve that person of their valuables. At first brush it looked fairly simple. Turns out, it really wasn’t.

    His first attempted lift got him a clout up the head that made him see stars. The reasonable response, to Hound, was to scramble up the nearest vendor’s wooden stall frame and perch out of reach, peering over the edge while the woman swore and threatened to tan his hide. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

    What he didn’t expect was for some older boys to save the skin off his back. They wandered over with the shouting and promptly rolled their eyes, one of them talking the woman down while one of his other self-proclaimed “brothers” snapped at him to get down and behave himself. They were teenagers and sure of themselves, so sure that the woman was placated that he’d be firmly disciplined at home while he was hauled off by his arm. Thoroughly confused, Hound decided it was best to play along and see what happened.

    They ended up at what he would learn was once a hostel, but out of the way and run-down as it was, most people just ignored it. Due to his earlier seclusion, the amount of children there just about made Hound’s jaw drop. They were also all working on something, but the ones that caught his eye were a group sitting cross-legged with locks in their hands, tweaking the pins in the mouth until they opened with what had to be a satisfying pop. There was a tinkle of little brass bells on the other side of the main room where some kids about his age were trying to take things from a pocketed satchel. Different groups seemed to be practicing on each other.

    At the back of it all were two men working with the oldest boys, more teenagers. Lord Flint, his rescuers addressed the imposing man as. He had laughed when the young teens reported what they’d seen him doing, and his flight of the combee up the nearest sheer surface the moment he’d been caught. It made his cheeks burn, but the critical once over that the man gave him still was less worrisome than that of his mother’s debt people - so he jumped on the chance when Flint offered to teach him how to do it right. That, and more. Hound jumped on it with the same hopeful smile that sometimes earned reciprocation from his mother, but his eyes were wary nonetheless.

    That wariness would serve him well.

    Talent is as talent does.
    Every trick that he learned had a pattern to them, or multiple alterations of the pattern depending on the scenario. Once Hound realized that, the whole affair seemed so much easier. There was a technique to not rattling the training bells, and there was just as much on a living, breathing mark.

    Time would prove in short order Hound took to the trade like a ducklett to water - a crotchety little ducklett, though. His optimistic little bubble with ideas of riches and freedoms were popped not long after being taken into the fold of the runners, learning that they were to hand over all of their lifts in exchange for their place. He was young, though, and found it hard to stay disgruntled for long. They got a steady meal, a place to sleep, and - now that he’d attracted Flint’s attention - personal mentoring. It was a vast improvement over dodging whatever his mother threw after she was too deep in her cups.

    That Hound had learned to be quick at a young age was in his favor. His own unexpected favor from Flint had “upped the ante” with the other boys in his age group, made them look bad. It bred resentment. Since they were expected to fend for themselves within the gang in order to establish a pecking order, it meant he was free game - but they had to catch him, first. He took the high road when he could, escaping the situation by virtue of being out of reach, regardless of whatever he had to climb to get there. Hound still got wrapped up into fisticuffs more than once, and lost more fights than he won.

    Dogs do speak, but only to those that know how to listen.
    If ever pressed about the strangeness of his name, Hound says he picked it up in his youth because he had the tenacity of a hunting dog who didn’t know how to quit when he was ahead. He also claims he doesn’t remember the name he was born with, something about having his bell rung one too many times, but who would say otherwise but a psychic-type? The other reason that he kept the callsign was because a scruffy little mutt who began following him around after he took pity on the scrawny thing and fed it. Hound didn’t mind, really. She was quiet, soft after he got the grit out of her fur, and smart - smarter than most of the people that he dealt with, if he was to be blunt about it. Hound halfway suspected that she had conned him for food, but at least she stuck around after. They couldn’t hold a real conversation, but it was a near thing. The poochyena that soon came to be called Fang, if for no other reason than her teeth looked far too big for her mouth, would become his closest friend and ally.

    After finding her somewhere between the ages of eight and nine, though Hound was always a bit small for his age, he took to separating from the usual pack of pickpockets and working on his own. They didn’t like him, he didn’t like them, and it was better to go at it alone.

    The nicer side of Navdia meant he had to take more care to scrub both of them off and look a little nicer, but then, it was easy to distract the marks that he felt he could pull on their heartstrings with his puppy and lighten their coinpurse at the same time. The Guards were less negligent on that side of town, though - it was higher risk, higher reward, and he almost got caught several times. The money was worth it, though - these people carried coins of larger value on them. He had less work for the same profit. It was tempting enough that he kept at it.

    Be prepared to trick the trickster.
    They were supposed to stick together. Supposed to. Rules were made to be broken … unless they were Flint’s rules. Hound learned the distinction of that when he dutifully turned in his excess. Trading for smaller coins with vendors or shopkeepers with the excuse that he was running errands for his mother worked well enough to hide just where he’d been, and got he and Fang more to eat in the meantime, but he’d overestimated his knack for getting away with things.

    Flint let it pass for two weeks until the flow of coin dipped back closer to Hound’s old average, when he’d been occupying himself at the local Church on the nicer side of town. As with his wealthier marks, it was tempting. He’d heard through grapevine that they offered something that was mostly free - letters and numbers that no one else had taught him. The only cost was that of his patience. They were intent on convincing him of their fairy tales, or so it seemed to Hound, but the motives for their generosity could be side-stepped.

    But when Flint demanded an explanation for why Hound’s performance dropped, his fellows jumped on the opportunity to point out that the “favorite talent” had been going behind his back. One of them brought Fang in by her scruff, having found the poochyena where he’d been hiding her a few buildings down the street. They were supposed to earn their pokemon, earn their privileges. Watching Fang thrash with a belt around her muzzle was enough to put his heart in his mouth under Flint’s disapproving stare. Hound admitted where he’d been going under duress, only to be sneered at for developing hoity-toity airs.

    His punishment for disobedience was public within the hostel they called home.

    His reward for initiative, however, was not - and it was only offered in the privacy of Flint’s room after having dragged the bruised boy out of their shared space by his arm.

    The belt was pulled off of Fang’s muzzle and Flint tossed her at him, saying it was Hound’s responsibility to feed his mutt. But then the older man smiled. He was getting personal mentorship because he had a knack, and now he’d proven he had motivation to go after things out of his reach. Flint flat out said he wasn’t going to pay for an expensive tutor, but he’d teach the boy the other tricks in his arsenal. Those tricks, though, took more time to learn.

    Words open worlds.
    Hound had had a love affair with words ever since his mother came stumbling home from the nearest tavern, often singing whatever raunchy tune was popular that night. More often than not, he’d sit up long after she’d passed out and took those words to make his own, learning the stories of songs before he learned anything else outside of survival. In Flint’s gang, though, he often never sang unless he was completely alone - the last thing he needed was to invite trouble for looking distracted. If nothing else, Fang liked it when he sang to her, and that was enough for him.

    By twelve the boy was enjoying unprecedented freedoms - if, at least, under the watchful eye of his mentor when it came to anywhere outside of the hostel. Flint liked to keep tabs on him, to know where he was.

    But in favor of graduating from pickpocketing to burglary, Hound discovered free time that simply wasn’t there before - he and Fang took to sneaking off to the edge of Crater Lake, determined to conquer the wall of rock that rose up and beckoned challenge to him for years. But there were only a few days that Flint was fully occupied for long enough to run there and back, especially if a bad grip sent him limping and trying to walk it off.

    Around that time, puberty came knocking. It was kind to Hound, kinder than many things had been. Where he’d always been the runt of his age group, his first growth spurt put him nearly on par with the other boys his age. It also deepened his whispery voice to something more befitting of a man with comfortable authority after that initial cringe-worthy crack. He was still leaner than his cohorts, but in a way that belied his growing strength. Challenging the rocks left his core burning, but scaling the unforgiving incline was improving his control, his risk perception. It was making him a better thief.

    The other thing that made him a better thief was that he had never stopped watching people; adopting their vocabularies, speech patterns, and then their belongings. If he could walk, talk, and give the attitude that he belonged, no one really questioned his presence if he kept to simple roles. Words had power - more power than he had once thought. He was hardly a master. He still had a lot to learn. But he was getting there, and Flint’s approval of his progress was plain.

    Sing for me, swablu.
    It took until Hound was fourteen for Flint to finally catch him singing, a shanty about a lass with a love of a sailor. The ocean was still a nebulous concept living in a sea of sand as they did, but an entertaining one. Apparently it was just as entertaining to his mentor, for while the boy was turning an impressive shade of red Flint simply told him to pick another song.

    Their relationship changed after that.

    He’d experimented a little with a stable boy, so the notion itself wasn’t new. On one hand, the attention from an older man that he looked up to was flattering. On the other, he was a touch confused by the way it changed the rules of their relationship, rules that they’d operated under for years. He’d almost come to think of Flint as a father, so balancing that with a lover’s intentions caused no small amount of cognitive dissonance in the boy until he’d adapted to a new normal.

    Experience is the name we give our mistakes.
    By twenty, Hound was a professional - and once more a crotchety ducklett in his element. He had developed entire systems for his larks and marks, tiered by the difficulty that the heist would pose and the profits they stood to gain from it, tailored according to he needs of each job. But he had only just begun to see any glimmer of gold from his successes, Flint’s possessiveness holding fast just as the purse strings - purse strings that contained his earnings - were knotted tight. His indignation may as well have been a pidove battering their wings against a cage. As his lover and in many ways master, Flint maintained that he still knew what was best for him even as an adult. That he owed his success to him.

    Hound could lie to others with ease, but lying to himself was a saccharine effort. He still cared, it’d be hard not to after spending fourteen years around the man, but it didn’t make the situation any less maddening.

    He started pickpocketing again, more than just enough to keep his skills sharp. Hound hid that money away while he continued working the jobs assigned by his lover or filtered through his contacts, determined to start building his own nest egg. Acting like he belonged had become second nature to Hound by that point, posing as anything from a servant to craft apprentice to get inside of a property and examine it for weak points and strengths. He simply had to divert that to a show of normalcy, until he could prove that he needed no coddling or control measures. Coddling. Flint had never coddled him before. It was survival of the fittest. But being the fittest meant using your wit, and that, he had in spades.

    Somewhere along the way in his plans, Hound met a odd-eyed mild-mannered mercenary whose strength lie in his understated attitude and steel-clad team. Bryant Terrel was his name, and they hit it off. Hound felt no shame in it since Flint had asides, but the change was utterly refreshing. He was being treated as an equal by someone that was actually relevant for the first time in his life, and the sensation was addicting.

    It also put his other situation in stark relief.

    More so the night he had decided to stay out with Bryant, and he came home to discover that Flint had found his stash - not even located at the hostel, but nevertheless in a place that few sane people would attempt. Flint had always been rough, more so when he was drunk, but it was the first time that the man outright beat him out of rage. Rage enough to require a healer by the time tempers cooled.

    Flint had always been dangerous, but danger was simply a fact of life with the sort they led. It was the first time that Hound felt fear in regards to his lover.

    Fall seven times, stand eight.
    By twenty-two, Fang couldn’t be out of her pokeball in the same room as Flint. After the healer incident, every time she saw the man she’d bare her teeth, venom rolling down her wicked canines as it mingled with saliva.

    That was also the year that he got Flint tipsier than a spinda on a three-day hangover. Trying to fight the man that taught him just about every trick he knew was a bad idea, pissed off mightyena backing him up or not. But once Flint passed out, Hound cleaned him out and left town; took a few valuables, sold his pokemon to other rogues so he couldn’t hunt him down.

    To have sudden, unabashed freedom on his plate was as liberating as it was chilling. Hound took a mixed bag of work with Bryant, never any the wiser about his ex-lover, to keep the coin flowing across their palms and see what came of life. One such thing was when Hound discovered the Path of Mind during a stay in Miramossa, the town’s uncanny concentration of psychics bringing a Balican nature to his attention that he’d had little reason to care about before. Turns out, as an adult, he cared enough to adopt the gist of it.

    Their time of exploration was one that he wouldn’t easily forget, traveling across the middle bracket of Harper wherever work took them. Far from the threat that slept at home.

    Friends may come and go, but enemies accumulate.
    They met and parted ways with a fair amount of people in their travels, but the biggest heist of his career was what brought Hound back to Navdia. He’d been hired to relieve Lord Gapar of a priceless set of accessories adorned with black lightning opals - unusual for a collector of carpets and textiles, but in hand with the man’s assumed wealth. They were worth more gold than he’d ever hold in his life if their value was to be believed, and would sell for a pretty clip overseas. His cut would be enough to retire on - though what he’d do with that time, he had no idea. Hound was sure he could figure something out. Hell, he might even go straight - his new path was all about balance. Might be time to put some effort towards that in a more literal way with his life.

    It nevertheless took months of careful preparation, so as not to raise any black flags to the venerable lord nor his impressive retinue. Before, he had simply worn the mask when it suited him. For this job, he was the mask. His carefully maintained beard had to go, his mannerisms forced to adopt a certain decorum that only the finest would expect. His role was that of the noble collector’s many personal aides, allowing him access to the man’s personal quarters and the leisure to search in broad daylight. Even a man of pride wouldn’t so crassly display something of such value, however expensive his rugs and pokemon-fueled cooling system within the pleasantly chilled palace were.

    By the time he found them and secured a way to slip through the Protect Charm - which required hunting down a mage and paying a spectacular fee for a perfectly silenced Brick Break counter-charm that would not alert whatever wards were in place - it took a quarter of the year for his plans to come to fruition. The routine was down pat - Hound had memorized the patterns and hours of fellow servants, the guards, all relevant spaces within the palace quarters and grounds, and preferred routes out in case the entire situation went pear shaped.

    Only, someone else had the same idea.

    A job of this caliber required the both of them to be professionals, and evidently, they believed in being the meowth who ate the pidgey and caterpie both. By the time they showed themselves, Hound had already stowed the artifacts into a new velvet roll of pockets to prevent damage and was on his way out - but the pair of blue medichams that accompanied the silent mover made it clear how they had managed such precise timing. They’d known he was here the entire time, and piggy-backed off his work.

    And judging from the mind-pictures that invaded his head space, he was supposed to hand over his hard-earned booty. As if.

    The indignation that registered on their psionic fields was answer enough - they were all on a tight time budget, and the cards were down.

    All the skill in the world couldn’t account for chance, however. Seventeen years of partnership ended with a sickening crack that was sure to bring guards running, one of the medicham bleeding in a torrent from torn arteries when the other came to it’s rescue. In that moment, it was his family or a monetary reward that could mean nothing in short order. Hound withdrew Fang to her pokeball and flung the entire reason for his infiltration across the room, forcing his opponent to take precious seconds to retrieve it while they flew the coop to the nearest healer.

    He found one, beating on their door in the middle of the night to rouse them. Fang found a place on their hastily cleared table, but even as soon as she was put under candlelight it was clear that she was fading fast. A brief examination revealed that her spine and shoulders had been shattered, the medicham’s hi jump kick a critical accuracy. She was suffocating, bleeding internally from the damage. Though the healer tried her best, it was too little too late. Fang slipped away while Hound stroked at the white hairs beginning to appear on her muzzle and around her eyes, soothing his best friend with a stolen lullaby from their childhood.

    Fang was the rock in his life, but sometimes even the sturdiest rocks could break.

    Life is like a coin. You can spend it anyway you wish, but you can spend it only once.
    Long after Fang’s body had gone cold, Hound finally asked the healer to extract one of her teeth before he cremated her. He later had it affixed to a chain, though by that point, he, too was dangerously deep in his cups. The grief and wine that followed strained his relationship with Bryant, unaccustomed to a partner who needed help to function for weeks. Managing to head off full on alcoholism was a close brush when Hound threw himself into climbing again, a distraction. Any distraction would do, but he had never fully conquered the sheer rocks of his childhood.

    The pain from when he fell, he bore willingly, penance for his overconfidence. But he managed, over the next year with Bryant’s metang supervising, just in case, to do just that several times over. He was older, stronger in body, and painfully aware of critical mistakes. Those critical mistakes became the focal point of many a late-night conversation in their sheets, though his lover was firm - Celebi wouldn’t whisk out of the sky and correct the mistake by turning back time, but he could learn from it, as he always had. He could still cherish Fang’s memory after he moved on, found something to motivate him again.

    But it was another conversation that stuck with Hound - they had long ago figured out that railing against the system would only result in punishment, be it mundane or divine. But working the system? They had done that their entire lives, in some shape or form. If he allowed his pendulum to swing in the other direction, he would have the resources and man-power to hunt that bitch down. He needed to become a Guardian. Maybe not immediately, certainly not in Navdia - not near the locus of Flint’s nest, no - but somewhere else. It would take time, it would probably take a show of strength for someone his age to be accepted as a fresh recruit, but it was possible. This, he could do.
______________________________________________________________________________

The Player:
(remove all fields left blank)
Name: Fang
Age: 22
Time Zone: -6
How did you find us? Recommendation from a friend who retired from the site due to life.
Would you like to apply for eligibility to participate in multi-character threads? Yes.
Anything Else: So … I haven’t done bios for RPs in quite a while, hoping this is okay. If possible, I’d like to pay 50g out of my starting funds for a Lockpicking Kit for the logical reason that a professional burglar would have one in their inventory. And currently, the plan is for Hound to stay a rogue for a little while while he builds up supplies, and then work back down to neutral handler.

______________________________________________________________________________

Items Bag:

Money: 2,141g
Weapon(s): Dual daggers
Armour: Leather armor
Items:
  • (1) Pokecard
  • (5) Pokeballs
  • (3) Potions
  • (2) Rare Candies
  • (1) Eviolite [Held by Amber]
  • (1) Super Candy
  • (1) Waterium Z
  • (1) Lucky Egg
  • (1) Friend Ball
  • (1) Razor Fang
  • (1) Damp Rock [Held by Coralie]
  • (1) Amulet Coin
http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/berrybag.png Berries:
  • (1) Persim berry
  • (1) Durin berry
  • (1) Oran berry
http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/tmcase.png TM & HMs:
Mission: (if applicable)

--------------------

user posted image


Past Characters


Korosensei's Post Count Rewards
Caledonia picture by August! Alexander and Casper sprites by Mackay!
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Korosensei
 Posted: Apr 3 2017, 12:47 PM
| Quote |


Stupidface McNoctowl
*******
Background Mods
Total Posts: 1614
Member No. 1923
Joined on 24-February 15.


Characters:
Alexander Fitzgerald | Emilie Chartoire

Awards: 5




Party pokémon

http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/x_and_y/Fennekin.png http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/e335251.gif
Amber

Lv. 07 Exp: 0/4
Friendliness: {||||||||||}
Original Handler: Hound ( Fang )
Held Item: Eviolite
Health & Condition: Fine
Abilities:
Blaze: When HP is below 1/3rd its maximum, power of Fire-type moves is increased by 50%.
Magician: The Pokémon steals the held item of a Pokémon it hits with a move.
Moves: [ primary / secondary ]
Scratch, Tail Whip, Ember, Wish [Egg], Hypnosis [Egg], Sunny Day, Flamethrower, Fire Blast, Flame Charge, Overheat, Will-o-Wisp, Incinerate, Solar Beam, Grass Knot, Double Team [TM], Embargo [TM], Psych Up [TM]
Notes:
Starter Pokemon
Starting to bond with Ametrine.

http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/eggsprite.png http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/e335252.gif / http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/e335251.gif
Egg

Lv. 01 Exp: 0/4
Friendliness: {||||||||||}
Original Handler: --- ( --- )
Held Item: ---
Health & Condition: ---
Abilities: ---
Moves: [ primary / secondary ]
---
Notes:
Hatched from an Egg

http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/509.png http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/e335251.gif
Ametrine

Lv. 14 Exp: 0/4
Friendliness: {||||||||||}
Original Handler: Adrian Carlisle ( Astraea )
Held Item: ---
Health & Condition: Fine
Abilities:
Limber: The Pokémon cannot be Paralysed while having this ability.
Unburden: Speed is doubled once the held item is consumed.
Moves: [ primary / secondary ]
Scratch, Growl, Assist, Sand Attack, Fury Swipes, Covet [Egg], Pay Day [Egg], Taunt, Torment, Thief, Embargo, Payback, Snarl, Dark Pulse, Thunder Wave [TM]
Notes:
Ubiq capture, Jan 2017
Traded from Adrian Carlisle at Level 12.
Willing to give Hound a chance.
Starting to bond with and wants to protect Amber.


http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/559.png http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/e335251.gif
Pyrite

Lv. 07 Exp: 0/4
Friendliness: {||||||||||}
Original Handler: Hound ( Fang )
Held Item: ---
Abilities:
Moxie: Attack is raised by one stage when the Pokémon knocks out another Pokémon
Intimidate: Upon entering battle, the opponent’s Attack lowers one stage. In a Double Battle, both opponents’ Attack are lowered. Pokémon with the Clear Body, Hyper Cutter, or White Smoke ability are unaffected. In a link battle, if both sides switch on the same turn, and first player sends out a Pokémon with Intimidate, the opponent’s Attack will be lowered before the opponent’s Pokémon switches.
Moves: [ primary / secondary ]
Leer, Headbutt, Sand Attack, Ice Punch [Egg], Dragon Dance [Egg], Bulk Up, Brick Break, Low Sweep, Focus Blast, Rock Smash, Power Up Punch, Dragon Claw [TM], Poison Jab [TM], Rock Slide [TM], Stone Edge [TM], Dragon Tail [TM]
Notes:
Rose Bowl 2017 Consolation Prize

http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/207gligar.png http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/e335252.gif
Conrad

Lv. 17 Exp: 2/6
Friendliness: {||||||||||}
Original Handler: Alexander "Sigurd" Durant ( Mandercoon )
Held Item: Razor Fang
Health & Condition: Fine
Abilities:
Sand Veil: During a sandstorm, the evasion of a Pokémon with this Ability is now increased by 25%.
Immunity: Prevents the Pokémon from getting poisoned.
Moves: [ primary / secondary ]
Poison Sting, Sand Attack, Harden, Knock Off, Quick Attack, Fury Cutter, Feint[egg], Power Trick[egg], Earthquake, Dig, Bulldoze, Cross Poison, Sludge Bomb, Roost, X-Scissor, Acrobatics, Facade, Rock Slide, Sandstorm
Notes:
Bought at Level 5.
Traded at Lv. 11.
Has better gliding control due to training.
Has slightly increased reaction speed when gliding

Tentative bond with Golett and bonded with Kenneth
Traded from Kenneth to Maverick, then from Maverick to Hound at level 15.

http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/771_zpsbtgdchtd.png http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/e335251.gif
Coralie

Lv. 12 Exp: 0.5/4
Friendliness: {||||||||||}
Original Handler: Kiala Stone ( Mega )
Held Item: Damp Rock
Health & Condition: Fine
Abilities:
Innards Out: Damages the attacker landing the finishing hit by the amount equal to its last HP.
Unaware: Foe's stat modifications are ignored.
Moves: [ primary / secondary ]
Baton Pass, Water Sport, Mud Sport, Harden, Bide, Helping Hand, Venom Drench [Egg], Bestow [Egg], Rain Dance
Notes:
Holiday Promo 2016
Traded to Marie at level 5
Traded from Marie Roux at level 10

_______________________________________________________________________________

Stored pokémon

http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/300skitty.png http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/e335252.gif
Chat Noir

Lv. 05 Exp: 0/4
Friendliness: {||||||||||}
Original Handler: Hound ( Fang )
Held Item: ---
Health & Condition: Fine
Abilities:
Cute Charm: The opponent has a 30% chance of being induced with Attract when using an attack, that requires physical contact, against this Pokémon.
Wonder Skin: Makes non-damaging moves that are targeted at this Pokémon have the accuracy of 50%.
Moves: [ primary / secondary ]
Fake Out, Growl, Tail Whip, Tackle, Foresight, Mud Bomb [Egg], Fake Tears [Egg], Covet [Tutor], Zen Headbutt [Tutor], Snore [Tutor], Dream Eater [TM], Shadow Ball [TM], Work Up, Hidden Power (Flying, medium), Protect, Safeguard, Frustration, Return, Double Team, Facade, Attract, Round, Echoed Voice, Psych Up, Swagger, Sleep Talk, Substitute, Confide, Retaliate, Flash, Secret Power, Endure, Natural Gift, Toxic [TM], Ice Beam [TM], Thunderbolt [TM]
Notes:
Purchased from the Pokemon Shoppe at level 5.
Inherent: +1 DEF, +1 HP/Endurance

:spritehere: http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/e335252.gif / http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/e335251.gif
Species or Name

Lv. ## Exp: 0/4
Friendliness: {||||||||||}
Original Handler: --- ( --- )
Held Item: ---
Health & Condition: ---
Abilities: ---
Moves: [ primary / secondary ]
---
Notes:
---

--------------------

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Past Characters


Korosensei's Post Count Rewards
Caledonia picture by August! Alexander and Casper sprites by Mackay!
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Fang
 Posted: Apr 19 2017, 03:09 PM
| Quote |


Novice Handler
**
Members
Total Posts: 60
Member No. 2339
Joined on 27-March 17.


Characters:
Hound

Awards: 2




Important NPCs


Other DevelopmentFor additional Pokemon bios:
  • Natures
  • Characteristics
  • Speech Colors
  • CODE
    [QUOTE=Stats][h]Species:[/h]
    [h]Sex:[/h]
    [h]Nature:[/h]
    [h]Characteristic:[/h]
    [h]Favorite Flavor:[/h]
    [h]Defining Characteristic:[/h]
    [h]Origin:[/h]
    [h]Past Handlers:[/h]  
    [h]Level when joined:[/h]
    [h]Happiness Bars upon Joining:[/h]
    [h]Speech Color:[/h] [color=goldenrod] Placeholder [/color][/QUOTE]

--------------------
PCR
The Vagrant Guardian
The Vagrant's Family
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Fang
 Posted: Apr 19 2017, 03:43 PM
| Quote |


Novice Handler
**
Members
Total Posts: 60
Member No. 2339
Joined on 27-March 17.


Characters:
Hound

Awards: 2




Amber
http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/x_and_y/Fennekin.png http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/x_and_y/Braixen.png http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/x_and_y/Delphox.png


QUOTE (Stats)
Species: Fennekin -> Braixen -> Delphox
Sex: http://files.jcink.net/uploads/harperregion/sprites/e335251.gif
Nature: Rash
Characteristic: Thoroughly cunning.
Favorite Flavor: Dry
Defining Characteristic: More amber than yellow in fur color.
Origin: Route 7 [Navdia Desert], NPC Breeder
Past Handlers: Losams (NPCs).
Level when joined: 5
Happiness Bars upon Joining: 5/10
Speech Color: Goldenrod


Namesake
Inspiration Images
History
Personality
Battle Style
Relationships
IC-Centric Timeline (Dev/Training)

--------------------
PCR
The Vagrant Guardian
The Vagrant's Family
| PM |
^
Fang
 Posted: Apr 19 2017, 04:12 PM
| Quote |


Novice Handler
**
Members
Total Posts: 60
Member No. 2339
Joined on 27-March 17.


Characters:
Hound

Awards: 2




Ametrine
http://i832.photobucket.com/albums/zz241/HarperRegion/Sprites/BWPokemon/509.png http://i832.photobucket.com/albums/zz241/HarperRegion/Sprites/BWPokemon/510.png


QUOTE (Stats)
Species: Purrloin -> Liepard
Sex: http://i832.photobucket.com/albums/zz241/HarperRegion/Sprites/e335251.gif
Nature: Jolly
Characteristic: Impetuous and silly.
Favorite Flavor: Sweet
Defining Characteristic: Particularly rich pelt.
Origin: Marchton City
Past Handlers: Meredith Carlisle, Adrian Carlisle, traders, Aminah the Healer (Navdia).
Level when joined: 12
Happiness Bars upon Joining: 3/10
Speech Color: Blueviolet


Namesake
Inspiration Images
History
Personality
Battle Style
Relationships
IC-Centric Timeline (Dev/Training)

--------------------
PCR
The Vagrant Guardian
The Vagrant's Family
| PM |
^
Fang
 Posted: May 3 2017, 10:48 AM
| Quote |


Novice Handler
**
Members
Total Posts: 60
Member No. 2339
Joined on 27-March 17.


Characters:
Hound

Awards: 2




Pyrite
http://i832.photobucket.com/albums/zz241/HarperRegion/Sprites/BWPokemon/559.png http://i832.photobucket.com/albums/zz241/HarperRegion/Sprites/BWPokemon/560.png


QUOTE (Stats)
Species: Scraggy -> Scrafty
Sex: http://i832.photobucket.com/albums/zz241/HarperRegion/Sprites/e335251.gif
Nature: Lonely.
Characteristic: Likes to fight.
Favorite Flavor: Spicy
Defining Characteristic: Big for her species.
Origin: Rosebowl
Past Handlers: - - -
Level when joined: 5
Happiness Bars upon Joining: 5/10
Speech Color: Magenta


Namesake
Inspiration Images
History
Personality
Battle Style
Relationships
IC-Centric Timeline (Dev/Training)

--------------------
PCR
The Vagrant Guardian
The Vagrant's Family
| PM |
^
Fang
 Posted: May 12 2017, 07:55 AM
| Quote |


Novice Handler
**
Members
Total Posts: 60
Member No. 2339
Joined on 27-March 17.


Characters:
Hound

Awards: 2




Charoite
http://cdn.bulbagarden.net/media/upload/6/68/Spr_5b_207_f.png http://i832.photobucket.com/albums/zz241/HarperRegion/Sprites/472gliscor.png


QUOTE (Stats)
Species: Gligar -> Gliscor
Sex: http://i832.photobucket.com/albums/zz241/HarperRegion/Sprites/e335252.gif
Nature: Bold.
Characteristic: Good perseverance.
Favorite Flavor: Sour.
Defining Characteristic: Lean through the body, making his wings seem impressively large.
Origin: Route 3, Marchton City Outskirts (Bird Man)
Past Handlers: Bird Man, Alexander "Sigurd" Durant, Kenneth, Maverick Ryder
Level when joined: 15
Happiness Bars upon Joining: 6/10
Speech Color: Rosybrown


Namesake
Inspiration Images
History
Personality
Battle Style
Relationships
IC-Centric Timeline (Dev/Training)

--------------------
PCR
The Vagrant Guardian
The Vagrant's Family
| PM |
^
Fang
 Posted: May 12 2017, 03:52 PM
| Quote |


Novice Handler
**
Members
Total Posts: 60
Member No. 2339
Joined on 27-March 17.


Characters:
Hound

Awards: 2




Coral(ie)
http://i832.photobucket.com/albums/zz241/HarperRegion/Sprites/Gen7Pokemon/771_zpslc8cce9l.png


QUOTE (Stats)
Species: Pyukumuku
Sex: http://i832.photobucket.com/albums/zz241/HarperRegion/Sprites/e335251.gif
Nature: Docile.
Characteristic: Sturdy body.
Favorite Flavor: No preference.
Defining Characteristic: Sharp visual contrast between the pink spines and pitch body color.
Past Handlers: Marie Roux
Level when joined: 10
Happiness Bars upon Joining: 5/10
Speech Color: Lightcoral


Namesake
Inspiration Images
History
Personality
Battle Style
Relationships
IC-Centric Timeline (Dev/Training)

--------------------
PCR
The Vagrant Guardian
The Vagrant's Family
| PM |
^
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