Name: Euphoria 'Euphie' Caulfield
(Her eye colour is actually dark blue tho.)
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Nationality: It's long since passed the point where she still cares to think about it. She's hitched, stowed and slinked from Hoenn to Alola, and now onto Chromis.
Personality: Sardonic and selfish, Euphoria holds an utterly dim view of the world in general... and civilisation in particular. While she has disingenuously claimed loyalty to multiple causes during her travels so far, they have served only as vehicles for her to find new and more exciting ways to amuse herself. And with her tastes? This often comes at the price of others' misfortune; even misery, something that's never much concerned her.
Her self-assurance in her battling abilities run to the point of arrogance and beyond; and, to the annoyance of everyone: such assurance is not entirely unjustified, even considering the fact the fiasco at the end of her stay in Alola forced her to book it to Chromis lacking everyone save for her scarcely-used Salandit, Sarin. Euphie's present weaknesses are to her a complete irrelevance, irrespective of her actual status she must continue to carry herself with the sentiment that she is the greatest. Accuse her of conceit, accuse her of vanity. It's true that she's not a bad looker (though nor is she a beauty), and she does take some cares to dress herself, if only to put something between her and the 'f-wit' masses. But in reality, these assertions serve only as a multi-layered facade to project an exceptional nature... which serves as scant comfort when measured against the deep and withering analyses she conducts on her own existence, always.
This private revulsion she bears to herself fuels her pathological need to sabotage any around her. Through whatever means may come to hand. She will lie when it offers no personal gain, lie even when it is clearly disadvantageous to do so. She will intimidate, she will threaten; she will even stoop to put on any mask to manipulate others, she will work to twist anything so long as it ensures that she does more than just succeed - others must fail. She sticks her hooks into the affairs of others, scratches at whatever insecurities she can find, and relents only when she deems they have been reduced to an even more pitiable state than she. Emotionally, she's in the gutter. But if she sweeps the legs out from enough people and forces them to join her in the filth; then, for a while at least, Euphie will be satisfied.
-
Biography: With her years of childhood unknown and unheeded by even Euphie herself, one can only really consider her formative years - spent almost without pause on the move; both for the sake of her own curiosity and to evade the pursuits of her rather less-than-concise list of enemies. She's long-since become used to living and working as little more than a disparate shadow of a citizen. After what can only be presumed as some bad business in Hoenn that Euphie found herself tied; too much by far for her tastes, she once more cut ties and ran from her perceived problems. The first boat out, by chance, led her to the balmy shores of the Alolan Archipelago.
It didn't take her long to find trouble there, though for once she was not the instigator. Set upon by an opportunistic, feisty duo belonging to Team Skull, the younger Euphoria proved far more than she'd looked - and far more than they'd bargained for. Their defeat ensured in mere moments by her calculating Grumpig, Strychnine; and the prideful and fierce Skuntank, Cyanide, Euphie was to be satisfied with taking their money (as they'd hoped for her), and leaving them with just that mild humiliation. But on a sudden whim, she asked instead to be taken to their leader.
Guzma. An intriguing character, a catalytic leader, an undeniable demagogue. His dark eyes, his garb, his stance. His word. As lacking in flair and depth as his crass and whining message may have been, Euphie still had to acknowledge the certain charisma of his presence. The firmness of self-surety, the degenerate desire, and the hope he instilled within his motley young crew of disciples. It was impressive.
All the more impressive, considering it stank so foully of front.
A fabricated sob-story later, just the lightest smidge of sycophancy to massage Guzma's ego, and she too was a Skull. She didn't really expect much to come of it, but with nowhere yet to go and certainly nothing better to do, there could surely be worse ways to while away the time than to peer into the minds and hearts of this reject band. It turned out to be not much off the stuff of the purest dreams of Euphoria. She gleefully whiled away well over a year, simply taking each day as it came - hearing and seeing the latest hare-brained schemes to emerge from the minds of her fellow Skulls; and, with such plans seldom well-thought to begin with, it took only the very slightest bit of meddling from Euphie to lead them to be catastrophic failures. To her, it was a hilarious pastime, just watching these youths - pretending as if they were guerrillas - already scratching the bottom of the barrel, and desperately seeking to validate themselves with their sabotage... then, finding themselves smashing heads against the brick wall of failure time and again. To see those hopeful little hearts drop further and further still, oh, it was nothing short of delectable.
But all good things must come to an end, and while for once no doing of her own, Team Skull would disband: as Guzma fell for what Euphie dismissed as some delusion of pretentious reform. It wasn't much exactly to shatter Euphie's heart. She'd long-since gotten fed up of the Skulls' garb she had to emulate, the music, the moves... all of it - more than a little too much to perform under the punishing gaze of the Alolan sunshine. Once she'd extricated herself, she hit the road once more, and figured that was the last she'd see or think on the scrappy outfit.
Give them a few months to mull, though, and Euphie's arrogant assumptions would be proven badly wrong. For Euphie had never much counted the bonds of brotherhood between the Skulls (which had applied even to her, not that she cared, or saw). Spread out though they were, the most of them still took time to meet and talk as they searched for their individual place, or returned to duties they had previously spurned. They twittered within themselves, and spoke with Plumeria - who had never been Euphie's greatest fan, so to speak. And while Euphie had assumed herself an invisible component, being on the low-level as a grunt who always performed her defined duties well but never outstandingly (unless you were to compare next to the ringing incompetence of her comrades), her absence was indeed noticed. Join a few of the dots, and some of the mysteries that had plagued Skull for the past while began to came to light. The most innocuous and basic ploys seemingly twisted, miscommunicated, leaked. Just another moment of the classic misfortune that seemed to cling to the Skulls with almost as much tenacity as the cheap body spray in which they were doused? No, that could not be all. Perhaps in one or two moments, but for a year unceasing?
And then there was Euphie. Always sniffing around, like a hound looking for the barest scraps, any bones of detail or meaning, a casual excuse at her tongue whenever spotted. Yet, she never quite seemed to suffer the tribulations of the rest. She had emerged from pale shadows and returned to them with the fall of the Team. While the most of the Skulls, having changed their ways, were moreso disappointed, or upset than anything - there were still a fair few who weren't willing to let the past go unpunished. They wanted to meet with her again, to demonstrate a lesson.
With the girl in question moving from town-to-town at a snail's pace, and not now bothering to smear her tracks, locating her was hardly difficult. They got to her as she was trudging down yet another of Alola's seemingly infinite dusty, sandy trails, glowering and sweating in her jacket as the sun raged overhead. Set an ambush... from behind some palms here, on the farside of a grassy knoll, there. Euphie did sense something different in the dynamics of her trek that day, but she didn't much care for it - all that mattered was for her to reach the next town before she turned dry and hunched as a Sandshrew.
Almost into their arms, she strolled... whether it was 6, 8; more even, that was tough to recall. Either way, Euphie certainly knew hostile intentions when she saw them - rather too much experience in that field for anyone's tastes, honestly - as did the fact they'd gone to the trouble of approaching unseen indicate they were serious. But she still saw the Skulls then as what they had been, at their very worst and least. A rabble of the weakest daring to pound their pudgy fists on the ground in a tantrum against the establishment, refusing to grow or adapt to the challenges they forced upon themselves. Little more than pond life. So when they, as the crowd, named brusquely to her their suspicions and demanded she explain - Euphie would not try and weasel out, claim ignorance, nor put on her very loveliest little pretence of pain and pour out crocodile regrets.
Instead, after a few tense moments had passed... she flashed a snide grin, and soon couldn't hold back her laughter. It was simply too delightful, for such troglodytes to not only decipher her grand schemes, but then to think they had a right to retribution! Well, that was the final straw for the mob, as if it had been needed before. They unleashed their Pokemon at once, and Euphoria, still enveloped by her conceit, sent in Strychnine and Cyanide. The swarm came upon them, and Cyanide tore at them, barged them away one-by-one as Strychnine threw up barrier after barrier, to stem the rush. Euphie didn't even take the trouble to conduct them, instead feigning inspection of her nails, so uninterested was she by the fight.
If her trusted duo had any chance then to win the melee; with that time wasted taunting, it was lost. Cyanide, smelling blood, charged drove into the epicentre of the Skulls' companions, and Strychnine was sufficiently baffled by the changing tide to drop his focus. That was when the myriad of individually small claws and fangs and bodies drove into them, and when Euphie's shark-smile began to drop. Many of the grunts had begun already to learn from their mistakes... had restarted their journeys, had gained in strength. And even those who hadn't were still willing to put their pride and Pokemon on the line to work for the common goal. She had none of that. And while Strych and Cyan were much stronger, just the two of them against a cohesive swathe was no fair match. The Grumpig struggled to re-establish his psionic defences as the slashes and blows came upon him, and Cyanide's snarls and screeches were fast devolving to pained mewls as he was quite literally covered head-to-tail with the enemy.
Euphie knew she had to cut her losses now, even though she could scarce believe what was greeting her callous eyes. She begged Cyanide to douse the area in smog and toxin, snapped a mask to her face - barely working at that, as she discovered coughing and spluttering to her further chagrin - recalled the duo, and scarpered away as fast as her lithe legs could carry her.
She made it to the Pokecentre as the sunset drew in to bathe her aching physique in bloody light, and demanded immediate succour for Strychnine and Cyanide. To her genuine relief, this was swiftly granted, but it didn't take long at all for the on-duty nurse to return with grim expression. The injuries sustained by her Grumping and Skuntank, the nurse had carefully explained, went far beyond what a Pokemon would usually be willing to stomach in battle. It could only have been that the two of them felt a care, or a deep fear... some reason for them not to stand down even at the brink of their bodies' limits. Euphie thought, and figured that it could only be their understanding, and their concern for what might happen to her should she be snared by the Skulls - that had prompted them to keep fighting. She felt slightly sick to think about it; as if she were standing upon a precipice looking downwards, she could not understand... both how they had grasped the situation, and for why they would endure such tribulation for her sake. She had never mistreated the two, such a thing would be vile and pointless to her, but nor had she ever sacrificed her own wellbeing for their sake.
With positions reversed, Euphoria knew she would not have done the same. Or even close to it. And that juxtaposition was deeply baffling, upsetting even.
Above all, she knew it wouldn't be long before the Skulls caught up once more, and forced a Round Two. Then, she would be almost-defenseless. Strychnine and Cyanide would eventually make a full recovery from the fight... eventually. She could not afford to wait around the town for their good health to return, for fear their efforts would go to be completely wasted. It wasn't quite with sadness that Euphie politely requested the two Pokemon be healed, and then released together back into the wild. But she did have the inclination that, perhaps, this was the way to return such a great favour. The very least she could do.
Just as she had fled Hoenn, she was on the very first boat she could find out of Alola, caring not one jot for where it went. Hiding in a crate to boot, for she didn't have nearly enough to procure a legitimate ticket. So she was in an unmistakably foul mood as she set crouched, with nothing to think upon except her once-more retreating past, and nothing to look upon in half-light but for her lone remaining Pokeball: that contained the little Salandit, Sarin. The one she had caught in the main to spite Plumeria, and had gone to be doted-on by her two Pokemon. Euphoria thought for a long while, and eventually decided that her debt to them had not yet been repaid. That she should at least continue to care well for Sarin, even if she had perhaps not been the strongest or the bravest. After all... it was not untrue that the same things could be said for Euphie herself.
So. It was a fresh beginning, in some ways. Euphie thought upon it with trepidation to some degrees... she being reduced to little more than a greenhorn, bound for a land she didn't know and likely wouldn't care a jot for. But perhaps this time, she wouldn't have to slither in the mud, glaring around for other nuggets of trash to kick as they lay. Maybe this would be the time to rise to prominence, to put the strong and the self-righteous in their richly-deserved place - underneath her boot. Maybe, even, this new journey would lead her to learn something.
Euphie shook her head slowly, a strained smile to match the tired eyes that hid behind her glasses. "Not a chance." murmured she, resignedly. "Nonetheless..."
"To Chromis."
-
Items:
5 Potions
5 Pokeballs
1 Revive
Personal effects:
Euphie does a lot of traveling, with most of that being alone for obvious reasons. She's certainly no academic, but she'll swipe and read most anything. A poetry collection, a documented history of the rise and fall of the ancient Johto empires, an incredibly weighty and obscenely dry tome covering principles of chemical bonding and basic compounds. Plus her personal favourite, an almanac of carnivorous and toxic plant life.
Gas mask (filter's pretty much worn out).
Two packs of cigarettes.
Lighter.
Latex gloves (already contaminated, which makes keeping them pretty useless).
Lint. Hell yeah.
Theme (couldn't tell if this was required or not, but, I'll bite.)
(Her eye colour is actually dark blue tho.)
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Nationality: It's long since passed the point where she still cares to think about it. She's hitched, stowed and slinked from Hoenn to Alola, and now onto Chromis.
Personality: Sardonic and selfish, Euphoria holds an utterly dim view of the world in general... and civilisation in particular. While she has disingenuously claimed loyalty to multiple causes during her travels so far, they have served only as vehicles for her to find new and more exciting ways to amuse herself. And with her tastes? This often comes at the price of others' misfortune; even misery, something that's never much concerned her.
Her self-assurance in her battling abilities run to the point of arrogance and beyond; and, to the annoyance of everyone: such assurance is not entirely unjustified, even considering the fact the fiasco at the end of her stay in Alola forced her to book it to Chromis lacking everyone save for her scarcely-used Salandit, Sarin. Euphie's present weaknesses are to her a complete irrelevance, irrespective of her actual status she must continue to carry herself with the sentiment that she is the greatest. Accuse her of conceit, accuse her of vanity. It's true that she's not a bad looker (though nor is she a beauty), and she does take some cares to dress herself, if only to put something between her and the 'f-wit' masses. But in reality, these assertions serve only as a multi-layered facade to project an exceptional nature... which serves as scant comfort when measured against the deep and withering analyses she conducts on her own existence, always.
This private revulsion she bears to herself fuels her pathological need to sabotage any around her. Through whatever means may come to hand. She will lie when it offers no personal gain, lie even when it is clearly disadvantageous to do so. She will intimidate, she will threaten; she will even stoop to put on any mask to manipulate others, she will work to twist anything so long as it ensures that she does more than just succeed - others must fail. She sticks her hooks into the affairs of others, scratches at whatever insecurities she can find, and relents only when she deems they have been reduced to an even more pitiable state than she. Emotionally, she's in the gutter. But if she sweeps the legs out from enough people and forces them to join her in the filth; then, for a while at least, Euphie will be satisfied.
-
Biography: With her years of childhood unknown and unheeded by even Euphie herself, one can only really consider her formative years - spent almost without pause on the move; both for the sake of her own curiosity and to evade the pursuits of her rather less-than-concise list of enemies. She's long-since become used to living and working as little more than a disparate shadow of a citizen. After what can only be presumed as some bad business in Hoenn that Euphie found herself tied; too much by far for her tastes, she once more cut ties and ran from her perceived problems. The first boat out, by chance, led her to the balmy shores of the Alolan Archipelago.
It didn't take her long to find trouble there, though for once she was not the instigator. Set upon by an opportunistic, feisty duo belonging to Team Skull, the younger Euphoria proved far more than she'd looked - and far more than they'd bargained for. Their defeat ensured in mere moments by her calculating Grumpig, Strychnine; and the prideful and fierce Skuntank, Cyanide, Euphie was to be satisfied with taking their money (as they'd hoped for her), and leaving them with just that mild humiliation. But on a sudden whim, she asked instead to be taken to their leader.
Guzma. An intriguing character, a catalytic leader, an undeniable demagogue. His dark eyes, his garb, his stance. His word. As lacking in flair and depth as his crass and whining message may have been, Euphie still had to acknowledge the certain charisma of his presence. The firmness of self-surety, the degenerate desire, and the hope he instilled within his motley young crew of disciples. It was impressive.
All the more impressive, considering it stank so foully of front.
A fabricated sob-story later, just the lightest smidge of sycophancy to massage Guzma's ego, and she too was a Skull. She didn't really expect much to come of it, but with nowhere yet to go and certainly nothing better to do, there could surely be worse ways to while away the time than to peer into the minds and hearts of this reject band. It turned out to be not much off the stuff of the purest dreams of Euphoria. She gleefully whiled away well over a year, simply taking each day as it came - hearing and seeing the latest hare-brained schemes to emerge from the minds of her fellow Skulls; and, with such plans seldom well-thought to begin with, it took only the very slightest bit of meddling from Euphie to lead them to be catastrophic failures. To her, it was a hilarious pastime, just watching these youths - pretending as if they were guerrillas - already scratching the bottom of the barrel, and desperately seeking to validate themselves with their sabotage... then, finding themselves smashing heads against the brick wall of failure time and again. To see those hopeful little hearts drop further and further still, oh, it was nothing short of delectable.
But all good things must come to an end, and while for once no doing of her own, Team Skull would disband: as Guzma fell for what Euphie dismissed as some delusion of pretentious reform. It wasn't much exactly to shatter Euphie's heart. She'd long-since gotten fed up of the Skulls' garb she had to emulate, the music, the moves... all of it - more than a little too much to perform under the punishing gaze of the Alolan sunshine. Once she'd extricated herself, she hit the road once more, and figured that was the last she'd see or think on the scrappy outfit.
Give them a few months to mull, though, and Euphie's arrogant assumptions would be proven badly wrong. For Euphie had never much counted the bonds of brotherhood between the Skulls (which had applied even to her, not that she cared, or saw). Spread out though they were, the most of them still took time to meet and talk as they searched for their individual place, or returned to duties they had previously spurned. They twittered within themselves, and spoke with Plumeria - who had never been Euphie's greatest fan, so to speak. And while Euphie had assumed herself an invisible component, being on the low-level as a grunt who always performed her defined duties well but never outstandingly (unless you were to compare next to the ringing incompetence of her comrades), her absence was indeed noticed. Join a few of the dots, and some of the mysteries that had plagued Skull for the past while began to came to light. The most innocuous and basic ploys seemingly twisted, miscommunicated, leaked. Just another moment of the classic misfortune that seemed to cling to the Skulls with almost as much tenacity as the cheap body spray in which they were doused? No, that could not be all. Perhaps in one or two moments, but for a year unceasing?
And then there was Euphie. Always sniffing around, like a hound looking for the barest scraps, any bones of detail or meaning, a casual excuse at her tongue whenever spotted. Yet, she never quite seemed to suffer the tribulations of the rest. She had emerged from pale shadows and returned to them with the fall of the Team. While the most of the Skulls, having changed their ways, were moreso disappointed, or upset than anything - there were still a fair few who weren't willing to let the past go unpunished. They wanted to meet with her again, to demonstrate a lesson.
With the girl in question moving from town-to-town at a snail's pace, and not now bothering to smear her tracks, locating her was hardly difficult. They got to her as she was trudging down yet another of Alola's seemingly infinite dusty, sandy trails, glowering and sweating in her jacket as the sun raged overhead. Set an ambush... from behind some palms here, on the farside of a grassy knoll, there. Euphie did sense something different in the dynamics of her trek that day, but she didn't much care for it - all that mattered was for her to reach the next town before she turned dry and hunched as a Sandshrew.
Almost into their arms, she strolled... whether it was 6, 8; more even, that was tough to recall. Either way, Euphie certainly knew hostile intentions when she saw them - rather too much experience in that field for anyone's tastes, honestly - as did the fact they'd gone to the trouble of approaching unseen indicate they were serious. But she still saw the Skulls then as what they had been, at their very worst and least. A rabble of the weakest daring to pound their pudgy fists on the ground in a tantrum against the establishment, refusing to grow or adapt to the challenges they forced upon themselves. Little more than pond life. So when they, as the crowd, named brusquely to her their suspicions and demanded she explain - Euphie would not try and weasel out, claim ignorance, nor put on her very loveliest little pretence of pain and pour out crocodile regrets.
Instead, after a few tense moments had passed... she flashed a snide grin, and soon couldn't hold back her laughter. It was simply too delightful, for such troglodytes to not only decipher her grand schemes, but then to think they had a right to retribution! Well, that was the final straw for the mob, as if it had been needed before. They unleashed their Pokemon at once, and Euphoria, still enveloped by her conceit, sent in Strychnine and Cyanide. The swarm came upon them, and Cyanide tore at them, barged them away one-by-one as Strychnine threw up barrier after barrier, to stem the rush. Euphie didn't even take the trouble to conduct them, instead feigning inspection of her nails, so uninterested was she by the fight.
If her trusted duo had any chance then to win the melee; with that time wasted taunting, it was lost. Cyanide, smelling blood, charged drove into the epicentre of the Skulls' companions, and Strychnine was sufficiently baffled by the changing tide to drop his focus. That was when the myriad of individually small claws and fangs and bodies drove into them, and when Euphie's shark-smile began to drop. Many of the grunts had begun already to learn from their mistakes... had restarted their journeys, had gained in strength. And even those who hadn't were still willing to put their pride and Pokemon on the line to work for the common goal. She had none of that. And while Strych and Cyan were much stronger, just the two of them against a cohesive swathe was no fair match. The Grumpig struggled to re-establish his psionic defences as the slashes and blows came upon him, and Cyanide's snarls and screeches were fast devolving to pained mewls as he was quite literally covered head-to-tail with the enemy.
Euphie knew she had to cut her losses now, even though she could scarce believe what was greeting her callous eyes. She begged Cyanide to douse the area in smog and toxin, snapped a mask to her face - barely working at that, as she discovered coughing and spluttering to her further chagrin - recalled the duo, and scarpered away as fast as her lithe legs could carry her.
She made it to the Pokecentre as the sunset drew in to bathe her aching physique in bloody light, and demanded immediate succour for Strychnine and Cyanide. To her genuine relief, this was swiftly granted, but it didn't take long at all for the on-duty nurse to return with grim expression. The injuries sustained by her Grumping and Skuntank, the nurse had carefully explained, went far beyond what a Pokemon would usually be willing to stomach in battle. It could only have been that the two of them felt a care, or a deep fear... some reason for them not to stand down even at the brink of their bodies' limits. Euphie thought, and figured that it could only be their understanding, and their concern for what might happen to her should she be snared by the Skulls - that had prompted them to keep fighting. She felt slightly sick to think about it; as if she were standing upon a precipice looking downwards, she could not understand... both how they had grasped the situation, and for why they would endure such tribulation for her sake. She had never mistreated the two, such a thing would be vile and pointless to her, but nor had she ever sacrificed her own wellbeing for their sake.
With positions reversed, Euphoria knew she would not have done the same. Or even close to it. And that juxtaposition was deeply baffling, upsetting even.
Above all, she knew it wouldn't be long before the Skulls caught up once more, and forced a Round Two. Then, she would be almost-defenseless. Strychnine and Cyanide would eventually make a full recovery from the fight... eventually. She could not afford to wait around the town for their good health to return, for fear their efforts would go to be completely wasted. It wasn't quite with sadness that Euphie politely requested the two Pokemon be healed, and then released together back into the wild. But she did have the inclination that, perhaps, this was the way to return such a great favour. The very least she could do.
Just as she had fled Hoenn, she was on the very first boat she could find out of Alola, caring not one jot for where it went. Hiding in a crate to boot, for she didn't have nearly enough to procure a legitimate ticket. So she was in an unmistakably foul mood as she set crouched, with nothing to think upon except her once-more retreating past, and nothing to look upon in half-light but for her lone remaining Pokeball: that contained the little Salandit, Sarin. The one she had caught in the main to spite Plumeria, and had gone to be doted-on by her two Pokemon. Euphoria thought for a long while, and eventually decided that her debt to them had not yet been repaid. That she should at least continue to care well for Sarin, even if she had perhaps not been the strongest or the bravest. After all... it was not untrue that the same things could be said for Euphie herself.
So. It was a fresh beginning, in some ways. Euphie thought upon it with trepidation to some degrees... she being reduced to little more than a greenhorn, bound for a land she didn't know and likely wouldn't care a jot for. But perhaps this time, she wouldn't have to slither in the mud, glaring around for other nuggets of trash to kick as they lay. Maybe this would be the time to rise to prominence, to put the strong and the self-righteous in their richly-deserved place - underneath her boot. Maybe, even, this new journey would lead her to learn something.
Euphie shook her head slowly, a strained smile to match the tired eyes that hid behind her glasses. "Not a chance." murmured she, resignedly. "Nonetheless..."
"To Chromis."
-
Items:
5 Potions
5 Pokeballs
1 Revive
Personal effects:
Euphie does a lot of traveling, with most of that being alone for obvious reasons. She's certainly no academic, but she'll swipe and read most anything. A poetry collection, a documented history of the rise and fall of the ancient Johto empires, an incredibly weighty and obscenely dry tome covering principles of chemical bonding and basic compounds. Plus her personal favourite, an almanac of carnivorous and toxic plant life.
Gas mask (filter's pretty much worn out).
Two packs of cigarettes.
Lighter.
Latex gloves (already contaminated, which makes keeping them pretty useless).
Lint. Hell yeah.
Theme (couldn't tell if this was required or not, but, I'll bite.)
Pokemon Team
Name: Sarin
Species: Salandit
Gender: Female
Ability: Corrosion
Battle Experience: 3
Moves: Poison Gas, Dragon Rage, Flame Burst, Smog
Extra Notes: Sarin is, at least for the outset, a somewhat confused and even afraid little thing. Although she has spent a fairly long time with Euphie - and make no mistake, Euphie has and would never mistreat her any - Sarin was seldom communicated to nor expected to do much of note until now. She'd been very used to seeing Alola treading behind the (relatively) imposing figures of Strychnine and Cyanide, and to be removed so suddenly from both her home region and the comforting presences of her two foster-brothers has her worried.
Name: Sarin
Species: Salandit
Gender: Female
Ability: Corrosion
Battle Experience: 3
Moves: Poison Gas, Dragon Rage, Flame Burst, Smog
Extra Notes: Sarin is, at least for the outset, a somewhat confused and even afraid little thing. Although she has spent a fairly long time with Euphie - and make no mistake, Euphie has and would never mistreat her any - Sarin was seldom communicated to nor expected to do much of note until now. She'd been very used to seeing Alola treading behind the (relatively) imposing figures of Strychnine and Cyanide, and to be removed so suddenly from both her home region and the comforting presences of her two foster-brothers has her worried.
