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Old 03-17-2014, 09:21 PM   #1
On The Hunt
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Location: Sigs Hell
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Kael's Mysterious Log Book

Name: Kael Tod
Gender: Male
Age: 23
Class: Warlock (Psychic Major, Dark Minor, Grass Weakness)

Appearance: Kael stands at about six feet and two inches, though he has a habit of standing at a slouched five foot nine. He keeps his hair cleanly shaven off, though the color of his eyebrows betrays that if it were to grow it would be a light brown. The back of his head is tattooed with a large black ring with a smaller black circle on the inside. He adorns himself with a long purple shirt, stripes of black reaching down the tops of the sleeves from where they meet the neck. His pants are black, with no real special quality to them, though the black leather belt holding them up is adorned with a silver buckle in the same shape as the tattoo. He wears slippers made of thick cloth as opposed to shoes, purple with a singular black stripe running along the top all the way to the toes. His hands are covered with purple leather gloves, a black stripe continuing from where those on his sleeves left off before connecting to the same odd symbol on the back of his hands. On top of all this he wears a hooded black cloak draped over his shoulders, a small silver chain connecting it around his neck, with the same ring and circle emblazoned in purple on the back. He rarely wears the hood up, but can if he so chooses, and the cloak can reach around so that he may entirely wrap himself in it.

Personality: Kael is a bit on the solitary side of life. He prefers to leave others alone and be left alone, unless of course the situation could benefit him in some clear way. He is calm and calculating, but certainly not above emotion, enough poking and prodding at them usually causing him to snap into a violent rage. He is largely unapologetic, especially in regards to any actions he may have made when angry, but will still recognize when he has done wrong, though he's not too keen on making things up to others. He does have a softer side, but it really only comes out around the few things he cares about, his Pokemon who he carries with him along his journey.

Background: Kael's story is largely uninteresting. At least, that's what he tells everyone who asks. And who wouldn't what with how he goes about dressing himself? He was born to an eccentric young herbalist of a mother in the town of Azalea. How she could call herself such a thing when she consistently sold very little of her product he would never know. His father? He knew him at a very young age, but at six years old his father went off on a quest. He was never told what it was or if he'd be back, but as years passed he stopped caring. At least, he stopped caring openly. He lived his struggling life with his mother who only worked to make ends meet. But it wasn't long before the lake dried up. His mother found herself swiftly out of a job, and the food on the table became smaller and smaller as things went on. Eventually Kael was forced to find food out in the freezing woods around him while his mother worked part time jobs. He'd search most of the day and come up with very little as the land turned to any icy tundra. As things went on his mother, overworked and underfed, became ill. With medicine in short supply for the poor, there was little that could be done for her. She grew colder quickly, like the area around the town they had lived, and her illness sped up. Kael did what he could to make her comfortable, but less than a month after contracting her sickness she passed away, leaving Kael to fend for himself. Now in his early twenties and with nobody left to call family, Kael became a loner. He decided to give away his mother's things. But as he was going through her rather small amount of stuff he discovered an old box, shoved into the back of the closet and coated with a thick layer of dust. Blowing it off he opened it, and discovered only a single book, emblazoned with an odd symbol he didn't recognize, as well as a Pokeball. The books pages were sprawled with similar etchings, but not a single word was left that he could recognize. About to toss the book in rage, he found something written on the final page. Well, written was a poor word for it. It was recognizable, though, but where from he was unsure. He found himself entranced by the book, determined to find out what it was that its pages spoke of. It took him about a month to recognize the scribbling on the final pages, and it came to him as a shock as he awoke from an odd dream of floating forms and nonsense. The scribbling was his father's signature, the signature of the man he for quite some time had forgotten about. Determined to figure out why his father left him, he poured himself into the book further. For a full year he scrawled its pages, searching for any clue of a pattern or phrase that might lend himself to know what became of his father. His search was fruitless. He decided that he must leave this town to search out someone who may be able to help him. Donning clothing adorned with this mysterious symbol, he set out to do just that.

Starter Group: 2

Last edited by Sneaze; 03-21-2017 at 06:34 PM.
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