Asura

Pokémon Showdown! [Invite Only]

Sirius

Sirius Elhart Leverant

<sub>18 | Male

Character Synopsis</sub>

The scion of a wealthy Castelian family, Sirius is every bit the picture of a privileged youth; proud, arrogant, and utterly used to getting his way. He is an aggressive, domineering boy, who possesses an almost obsessive drive to win at all costs—a trait which often puts him at odds with his classmates and their less than stellar track record as a battling team. The school's poor reputation is something of a personal peeve of his, an association he cannot stand to be pressed to his good name. He intends to use his last year in Mistralton to change this black stain on the academy, even if he has to do it all himself.

_{Character Ties}

1) TBD later if accepted. Do not fill out. Add more if needed.
2) TBD later if accepted. Do not fill out. Add more if needed.

_Pokémon

1) Doublade | Male | No Guard

Shadow Sneak
Iron Head
Sacred Sword
Swords Dance

2) Sneasel | Male | Inner Focus

Triple Axel
Knock Off
Brick Break
Swords Dance

3) Scyther | Male | Technician

X-Scissor
Dual Wingbeat
Knock Off
Swords Dance

Pokémon Showdown! [Invite Only]

Sirius

Sirius Elhart Leverant

<sub>18 | Male

Character Synopsis</sub>

The scion of a wealthy Castelian family, Sirius is every bit the picture of a privileged youth; proud, arrogant, and utterly used to getting his way. He is an aggressive, domineering boy, who possesses an almost obsessive drive to win at all costs—a trait which often puts him at odds with his classmates and their less than stellar track record as a battling team. The school's poor reputation is something of a personal peeve of his, an association he cannot stand to be pressed to his good name. He intends to use his last year in Mistralton to change this black stain on the academy, even if he has to do it all himself.

_{Character Ties}

1) TBD later if accepted. Do not fill out. Add more if needed.
2) TBD later if accepted. Do not fill out. Add more if needed.

_Pokémon

1) Doublade | Male | No Guard

Shadow Sneak
Iron Head
Sacred Sword
Swords Dance

2) Sneasel | Male | Inner Focus

Triple Axel
Knock Off
Brick Break
Swords Dance

3) Scyther | Male | Technician

X-Scissor
Dual Wingbeat
Knock Off
Swords Dance

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

June 28, 1998
I don't fucking know am

---

Ryusei carried on with his menacing march, too caught up in his desire to brain his fellow student with the board in his hand to pay heed to the poor guy's responses. He looked the slippery type, probably used to talking his way out of situations like this. Fortunately, the towering delinquent had long since learned to tune out the yapping of both authority figures and would-be victims alike. Unfortunately for him, someone worth at least a modicum of his attention span came hurrying over to stop his advance before he could get more than half-way across the courtyard. He paused at the feeling of fingers on his sleeve, turning around to see what in the world his brief companion wanted. Was she really going to come to this guy's defense?

Her words only baffled him. Too crowded? How in the world was it too crowded? It was just the three of them, as far as he was aware, and her gesturing only befuddled him more. A sandwich? Why the hell would he care about somebody's discarded sandwich? It was only a few seconds later that it clicked for him—sandwiches didn't just manifest out of thin air. Somebody had to have dropped that sandwich. Maybe there had been someone watching that he hadn't noticed, so caught up in his nicotine fueled nostalgia. They must have abandoned their lunch when hostilities began, and ran off to get a teacher or something. That wouldn't do at all. While he couldn't exactly do anything about the now missing witness, he could at least follow the redhead's suggestion and disappear before this became more of a headache than it already was.

"Yeah... Yeah, sure. Getting kind of fed up being here anyway," He replied, letting the skateboard drop to his side as he acknowledged her desire to leave, "Just one thing before we head off."

No sooner than the aggression had left his posture did it immediately return. He spun on his heel, fast as he could manage, and hefted the board back behind his head. Then, as if a lightning bolt from Zeus himself, he launched it through the air, javelin-like, directly into the face of the unsuspecting skateboarder who had the misfortune of earning both his ire and a second head injury for the day.

Content that justice for his interrupted smoke break had been served, Ryusei didn't even bother watching the poor lad tumble back to the ground. He instead turned to face his partner in crime, fingers finding their way back to the cigarette dangling from his mouth. After a quick draw from the carcinogenic delight, he blew a quick stream of the numbing smoke before speaking again.

"Right, so, where to next?"

Itiner: Heroes of Ardenfeld

Nathaniel Brightwood

---

---

It seemed as though Nathaniel had not been the only person to recall the distant, childhood promise which had brought him so far from the capital. No sooner than he had been waved off by the tavern keeper did another woman approach him, albeit one who seemed to remember his snowy white locks much better than the proprietor. It took him a few moments to place her, no doubt because in place of a soot-covered blacksmith's daughter there now stood a holy warrior, clad in steel rings and Tyrran symbology. He turned to better face her, adjusting the lute slung over his shoulder as he did.

"Almost a decade now, yes," he answered, giving her a once over with curious green eyes, "Tyr has certainly been treating you well—I don't remember you being so tall."

Nathaniel had little time to ruminate on Niala's growth spurt, however. Another soul had entered the sparsely populated tavern, and almost immediately approached. It was hard not to place this one—Tabaxi, while a part of Ardenfeld's populace, had always been less numerous than the other races. The bard gave a small flourish of his cloak at the feline's comment, allowing some of his finery show from beneath the heavy dyed wool.

"Well enough, I suppose, though I credit the aristocracy more for my good fortune than I do Labelas," As he looked over Timber, a thought did occur to him, although it wasn't exactly the most polite thing to note. Perhaps it was warranted, however, considering their circumstances.

"Time has perhaps been less kind to the two of you. I didn't think either of you the type to take up arms. Though, I suppose a desire to fight is to be expected among our number, considering our histories with this place."

Itiner: Heroes of Ardenfeld

Nathaniel Brightwood

---

---

"Seeing your smile is more than enough for me, Prelissa."

The first words out of Nathaniel's mouth as he stepped into the Lying Wolverine were a far cry from the ones he had last spoken there. He had been but a boy of nine or ten, lacking in the confidence and eloquence that seemed to ooze off him now that he was a man grown. One might have even been forgiven for not putting two-and-two together, and realizing that the smooth talking bard before them was the Sabitha's boy after so many years, but he made sure to squash any misunderstandings by peeling back the woolen hood over his head, freeing the two perky feline ears that had been the source of so much gossip when he was small. They twitched in their newfound freedom, taking in the sounds of the mostly desolate tavern before pivoting to stand proud atop his head.

"Although, perhaps a table comes as a close second. It has been a very long walk from Sarinan."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

June 28, 1998
I don't fucking know am

---

There seemed a terse few moments between his asking and the redhead's response, but ultimately she acquiesced to his request. Ryusei readily accepted the offered cigarette, bringing it to rest between his lips while he fished about in his pocket. He hadn't bothered to bring a pack to the old man's place on account of the smell, but he had kept his lighter with him for the journey on the off chance he decided to scrounge up a couple at some point. As he flicked back the cap and struck away at the igniter, the teen cupped his hand over the burgeoning flame. He puffed a few times to ensure a good light, eyes drifting towards the girl as he listened to her warning about the weather.

"That's fine," The delinquent muttered on his exhale, trails of smoke already billowing from his mouth, "The rain never bothered me anyway."

A proper drag followed that comment, and he could feel himself relax almost immediately as he savored the familiarity of the taste and the subtle, numbing rush that punctuated the draw. A long, wispy trail of smoke followed his next exhale, drifting up to join the grey clouds that hung oppressively above. It wasn't exactly gorgeous scenery, but there was a serenity to the overcast skies, a subdued vibe that helped put his otherwise irritable mind at ease. He'd always found the office workers on their smoke breaks pathetic, crowding outside their little cubicle hells for a few minutes of carcinogenic relief, but standing outside the back of the school and indulging in his own little vapor vacation, he couldn't help but relate. He made a note to do this again.

Of course, he wasn't alone in his reprieve, and seeing as though she was nice enough to share her pack with him, Ryusei felt the need to at least make some polite conversation. An introduction, at the very least.

"Thanks for this," He began, his expression softening to the closest thing to neutrality since he had arrived on campus, "I'm Ryusei, by the way-"

He didn't get much further than that before a sudden impact brought his attention from his fellow smoker to the ground beneath his feet. More specifically, to the skateboard that had just careened into his ankle, sending an unwelcome jolt of pain up his leg. From the skateboard he traced a line across the courtyard, until his icy blues settled on another student, laying face down on the pavement.

"The fuck do you think you're doing? Do you not know how to watch where your dumb ass board ends up?"

All the good that was done by his brief foray with nicotine had been undone in that moment. Irate as he was, having his momentary escape interrupted by some punk ass skater was all it took to bring the days of aggression and stress prior bubbling back to the surface. He stomped down on the board's lip, causing it to jump up off the pavement into his waiting hand. A hand which promptly raised it up over his shoulder as he lumbered towards the downed boy, looking every bit the villain of a campy delinquent manga between the way he wielded it and the cancer stick dangling from the corner of his mouth.

"C'mere. I'm gonna make sure you don't lose it again."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

June 28, 1998
I don't fucking know am

---

Classes didn't help quell the discontent that had punctuated every step of Ryusei's morning, not that he expected them to in the first place. He wasn't the type who could lose himself in academia like some people, and even if he could, the first week of school wouldn't offer anything challenging enough to occupy the mind of even a dumb hoodlum like himself. Instead of focusing on the light schoolwork, he pondered on his exit strategy—there would inevitably be those just curious enough to come up and talk to him, no matter how much he glowered or sulked. It was only natural; he was an oddity, a new fish added to what seemed like an already pretty small pond. Most would be content to simply whisper behind his back as they paired off with their friends and stuffed their faces, but somehow that was just as bad. He couldn't stay in the classroom when break began.

It wasn't as if he had much of a reason to do so anyway. He hadn't found the time in the few days since his arrival to hit the market, so he had no offerings from home to sate his appetite. There would probably be some kind of cafeteria or a lunch station, but he didn't feel like burning his pocket money on the food at school, not least of which because his heavy appetite would only further stoke the rumor mills his classmates would take to operating. There was a foulness to his expression as the chimes alerted the student body to their temporary freedom, and Ryusei took advantage of it to quickly lift himself from his desk and begin the shuffle out of the classroom. If there was one advantage to being a freakish tall punk of a kid, it was the assured right of way in crowds.

Of course, what he had in freedom of movement, he lacked in knowledge of the school's layout. There had to be somewhere relatively isolated on the school grounds. The roof, maybe, but people tended to congregate up there so they could compete for the title of most dramatic loner. A courtyard would probably work better, since he could use the foliage as cover to escape any would-be pursuers.

It only took him a little longer than he'd have liked to find the stairs leading down to the first floor's exit, and the moment he pressed the door open he was immediately hit with a cocktail of scents that irritated and invigorated him in equal parts. First, the rain. He could practically smell it approaching, especially out in the countryside without the odor of petroleum and smog to hinder the fresh air. With his luck, it would probably start to drizzle while he attempted respite away from his fellows, to say nothing of the bike ride back home. But the second scent, that one was distinctly one he remembered from back in the city. The acrid, pungent smell, smokey and languorous. He remembered his first time lighting one up, puffing down on the thin cylinder of paper and plant matter and trying hard to make it look natural and smooth. How many had he smoked back home, just to do it? Just to feel like he was doing something wrong. Just to make himself look that extra bit cool.

Perhaps, most importantly, when did he become so sentimental for something as stupid as a little cigarette smoke? Maybe it was just the addiction talking—he hadn't smoked since he left Shin-Kobe Station. It had been a few days without, and they were nerve-wracking days. A quick smoke sounded... nice. Comforting, even. A little slice of normalcy. He let his nose guide his eyes, turning towards the right until his pale blues caught the wispy trail billowing from between a redheaded girl's fingers.

"Oi," He said, gruff in his manner despite his intention to inconvenience her, "Give me one of those, would you? I haven't smoked in days."

If nothing else, the nostalgia had softened his grimace just the slightest bit, and his aura of disdain too crumbled with the desire to taste that ashy, familiar flavor.

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

April 7th, 20pickafuckingyearhero
8:45am

---

There was scarcely better weather to demonstrate Ryusei's ambivalence towards the coming day—the entire sky was covered in a thick layer of clouds, threatening to pour all over the town of Utsubyo at any moment. Everything about the little municipality seemed to be choked with an unmistakably dour feeling. Perhaps it was a simple projection of his circumstances, although in the few days he had been in town, he couldn't remember spotting the sun even once. The perpetual overcast just worked to worsen his already poor situation; things had been terse around his new home as the existing order found itself torn asunder in favor of a new arrival. His grandfather, to his credit, had worked hard for most of his life, so the traditional abode up in the hills of the Sakuraba neighborhood was certainly leagues better than most of the other homes the youth biked passed on his way into town. He had stayed there plenty a summer as a boy, back when his grandmother was still alive, and had a nice enough time. His grandparents always had time for him, and made sure to make him feel welcome. Maybe it was her absence that made things feel so chilly. Maybe grandpa just didn't know how to welcome him after living alone for so long.

The circumstances just felt... strange. Like they didn't belong. Like he didn't belong.

By the time he acknowledged that thought was certainly a projection, Ryusei's destination had finally come within viewing distance. Utsubyo High wasn't anything to be impressed by, certainly not compared to his previous school, but the sight of it certainly beat ruminating over his exile to gods-forsaken Kyushu, or how he had come to miss that empty apartment way back in Kobe already. Finding a place to lock his bike up was mercifully easy, and it certainly needed to be, because his morning left him in no mood to ask any of the students or faculty milling about the courtyard how to do so. Not that his intentions to slip under their radars would do him any good. He had always stuck out like a sore thumb—he was a hulking, angry looking thug of a transfer student, and his usual, resting grimace almost certainly looked worse with his mood darkened.

But it didn't matter. He just had to make it through the first day. Ignore the stares. Ignore the whispers. Don't think about their asinine theories. Shoo them off when the dumb ones come up to ask. Just get through the day. That mantra carried him through the opening ceremony, as the administrators prattled on, and through the halls as his fellow students rushed to find their homerooms and settle in for some brief morning chatter.

Antisocial as he tended to be, he had little enough interest in that. Homeroom would bring some respite, hopefully, and if he was lucky, he could spend the majority of the introductory session gazing out the window. More lamentation to brighten up his spirit. Unfortunately, the annoyingly proactive teacher arrived in short order not much longer after he had settled himself into the second seat from the back. Of course, introductions were necessary. How quaint. The only solace he found in the request was that there seemed to be another unfortunate soul who was folded into the current year. One who must have been having a much better day than he. He almost felt his gaze sharpen as she carelessly bounced her way to the front of the classroom and introduced herself with such vigor. If they expected that much from him, they were sure to be disappointed.

With a sigh, the delinquent pushed himself up out of his chair, carefully maneuvering his way to the front of the classroom on the heels of his fellow transfer. A stick of pearly white chalk found its way between his long fingers, and he scratched a rough set of kanji onto the board beside Shimizu's.

"Name's Totsuka Ryusei. I like sports, and not being here in front of you all, if I'm honest," He gingerly set the chalk back where it had been, turning to the teacher, "So if that's all?"

It wasn't much of a question; he had already decided that was all he had to say on the matter, and soon made his way back to his desk, wiping the residue of the talc-like powder from between his digits as he did.

"God, I need a smoke today."

Where It Always Rains

im at my mcfuckin limit

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

"Fuck you."

---

NAME
Totsuka Ryusei

AGE
16 // August 16th

APPEARANCE
Height: 190.5 cm
Weight: 96 kg
Hair: Black
Eyes: Pale Blue
Genitalia: Stallion-like
PERSONALITY
⯈Aggressive
⯈Defiant
⯈Independent
⯈Melancholy
⯈Sentimental
⯈Stubborn
⯈Self-Conscious
⯈Tempestuous

LIKES
⯈Autumn
⯈Red
⯈Unagi
⯈Loyalty
⯈Sports

DISLIKES
⯈Authority
⯈Cowards
⯈Pickled Vegetables
⯈Abandonment
⯈Gossip

HISTORY
It's difficult to glean Ryusei's background by simply looking at him—indeed, few who know him today would realize he is a child of privilege. Born into a well-off family of investors from Kobe, the young man wanted for little growing up. At least, materially. The cost of the family's wealth was, as so often the case, time, something which his parents could spare precious little towards their growing child at home. Often looked after by hired help or extended family, Ryusei spent much of his young childhood seeking ways to garner his parent's valuable attention.

As is so often is the case in those scenarios, this led to him acting out. At school, or home, he would purposefully put himself at odds with the rules simply to force their hands—any attention, he came to believe, was good attention. But these fleeting moments of scorn scarcely satisfied his need for acceptance. As he grew, he came to seek his validation outside the home. Unfortunately, the world of academia was scarcely accepting of a known troublemaker, and between his tendency to lash out and the way he seemed to tower over his contemporaries after grade school, he found little in the way of companionship.

Rejected by his peers and parents alike, he quickly fell into a life of delinquency, responding in kind to the ostracism he felt. He shirked his classes, smoked and loitered, spent whole nights out with hangers-on and shady characters, and bloodied his knuckles more than once on classmates and strangers alike. His middle school career was marred by his flippant disregard for authority, and he scarcely made it into a reasonable high school in Kobe thanks to his family's influence.

It was only after another year of carelessness that his parents, finally assuming a vague form of parental responsibility, decided to intervene. They insisted that he would be turning over a new leaf, whether he wanted to or not. Instead of remaining in Kobe with his "bad influences", he would move out into the countryside, down in Kyushu, to live with his grandfather in the sleepy hamlet of Utsubyo. He would straighten Ryusei out, they claimed, and the country living would help him learn to respect himself and others.

It all fell on deaf ears. The teen saw through their fast-talking—he was making too much trouble for them, so they wanted to toss him out like trash. Put him somewhere far away, where he could be someone else's problem. But he had little choice in the matter. His transfer had already been put through, and he couldn't exactly walk out and become a bum at sixteen. So he boarded a train to Kagoshima, and began the first reluctant steps towards his new life.

Where It Always Rains

im at my mcfuckin limit

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

"Fuck you."

---

NAME
Totsuka Ryusei

AGE
16 // August 16th

APPEARANCE
Height: 190.5 cm
Weight: 96 kg
Hair: Black
Eyes: Pale Blue
Genitalia: Stallion-like
PERSONALITY
⯈Aggressive
⯈Defiant
⯈Independent
⯈Melancholy
⯈Sentimental
⯈Stubborn
⯈Self-Conscious
⯈Tempestuous

LIKES
⯈Autumn
⯈Red
⯈Unagi
⯈Loyalty
⯈Sports

DISLIKES
⯈Authority
⯈Cowards
⯈Pickled Vegetables
⯈Abandonment
⯈Gossip

HISTORY
It's difficult to glean Ryusei's background by simply looking at him—indeed, few who know him today would realize he is a child of privilege. Born into a well-off family of investors from Kobe, the young man wanted for little growing up. At least, materially. The cost of the family's wealth was, as so often the case, time, something which his parents could spare precious little towards their growing child at home. Often looked after by hired help or extended family, Ryusei spent much of his young childhood seeking ways to garner his parent's valuable attention.

As is so often is the case in those scenarios, this led to him acting out. At school, or home, he would purposefully put himself at odds with the rules simply to force their hands—any attention, he came to believe, was good attention. But these fleeting moments of scorn scarcely satisfied his need for acceptance. As he grew, he came to seek his validation outside the home. Unfortunately, the world of academia was scarcely accepting of a known troublemaker, and between his tendency to lash out and the way he seemed to tower over his contemporaries after grade school, he found little in the way of companionship.

Rejected by his peers and parents alike, he quickly fell into a life of delinquency, responding in kind to the ostracism he felt. He shirked his classes, smoked and loitered, spent whole nights out with hangers-on and shady characters, and bloodied his knuckles more than once on classmates and strangers alike. His middle school career was marred by his flippant disregard for authority, and he scarcely made it into a reasonable high school in Kobe thanks to his family's influence.

It was only after another year of carelessness that his parents, finally assuming a vague form of parental responsibility, decided to intervene. They insisted that he would be turning over a new leaf, whether he wanted to or not. Instead of remaining in Kobe with his "bad influences", he would move out into the countryside, down in Kyushu, to live with his grandfather in the sleepy hamlet of Utsubyo. He would straighten Ryusei out, they claimed, and the country living would help him learn to respect himself and others.

It all fell on deaf ears. The teen saw through their fast-talking—he was making too much trouble for them, so they wanted to toss him out like trash. Put him somewhere far away, where he could be someone else's problem. But he had little choice in the matter. His transfer had already been put through, and he couldn't exactly walk out and become a bum at sixteen. So he boarded a train to Kagoshima, and began the first reluctant steps towards his new life.