lorelei — Roleplayer Guild

Her backstory is like eight different kinds of cliched, and honestly, I'm so exhausted I can't tell if her personality is consistent or not, but I'm open to critiques and revisions.

Name: Gilberte “Gil” Chevalier Age: 17 Gender: Female; she/her pronouns Hometown: Jubilife City, Sinnoh Appearance: A diminutive stature barely reaching five feet, impeccable dark eyeliner, and a slender, petite frame lend - with accuracy that surprises absolutely no one - to the notion Gil does not enjoy the outdoors in any sense of the word. Sharp eyebrows lie low on her forehead, giving the appearance of a constant scowl. Gentle angles cut into the pale canvas of her face, providing a sharp contrast to the dark circles offsetting deep brown eyes. These eyes are perpetually narrowed, and the irises unusually small, giving the impression of constant skepticism. A small nose and delicate mouth would give her a doll-like appearance were they not usually twisted into a scowl. Long, layered white hair falls in waves down her back, stopping a few inches above her waist, and a choppy, fluffy fringe feathers across her forehead. She prefers wearing her hair down - it is rather long, and quite heavy, and keeping it up all the time would give her a headache - but will occasionally throw it into a messy bun. Gil is usually pretty good about maintaining the dye job, but sometimes, she’s prone to bouts of laziness, and lets the roots grow out a bit. Rarely seen without an oversized hoodie or sweatshirt of some form; usually wears leggings or some kind of athletic pants with them. Has surprisingly practical taste in shoes; a solid, sturdy pair of bright, tacky red athletic sneakers. Personality: Easily flustered and angered even faster, Gil is governed solely by impulse and emotion. Rationality and logistics fall to the wayside in favor of instinct or intuition, especially in a conflict. A gruff, somewhat awkward demeanor and dry, surly sort of humor give her an almost rough-around-the-edges sort of aura, particularly when she’s being forced to sit down and be civil. She’s not particularly adept at handling crowds, either; her short stature and distaste for socialization leaves her positively floundering. Gil is somewhat impatient, and even though she’s a self-proclaimed pacifist, wouldn’t hesitate to fling her Pokeballs aside and jump into the fray herself. (She’s eternally ready to fight. Poor disaster child would probably try to punch an Ursaring if it pissed her off.) Has a flippaint, devil-may-care attitude towards academics, and as such, dropped out of formal education to pursue a career in training and sate her wanderlust (though her father also played an integral role in this decision, too; there’s enough defiance coursing through her veins to power a small regiment). She tends to fidget when forced to sit still for very long, especially if she’s waiting on someone she’s travelling with to finish up a transaction or draw a conversation to a close. Despite this brash veneer, Gil’s constantly plagued by doubts for the future. She’s terrified she won’t be able to make it as a trainer and provide for herself, and she’s too prideful to slink back home and try to rectify things with her family. A life spent rotting away at some desk job isn’t the life for her - ask her, and you’ll receive an emphatic refusal, probably some remark about how she’d rather fling herself off an overpass than spend the rest of her life bored and filled with regret. She’s also hyperaware of her belligerence, and how quickly she resorts to shouting, and she’s determined to learn to curb her temper. The last thing in the world she wants is to become anything like her rat bastard father. It’s a touchy subject. Profession: Novice trainer Talents: The ability to argue with practically anyone; an armada of various bad ideas and ways to execute them; the ability to subsist off defiance alone. Inventory:

7 Pokeballs
Thermal, well-insulated sleeping bag + portable travel-sized pillow
$200
Personal hygiene + cosmetic supplies; has an unholy devotion toward maintaining her eyeliner
A bottle of disinfectant, a small box of band-aids, and two rolls of gauze
Store-bought, relatively decent-quality Pokemon food
4 Potions; 2 Antidotes; 1 Burn Heal she carries expressly for comedic purpose
A few changes of clothes
Obscenely gaudy bright red backpack in which all of this is stored

Starter Pokemon: "Wukong” (Male Chimchar), level 5 Biography: Born and raised in Jubilife by a father who regarded Pokemon trainers as cowardly thugs that frittered away their families’ assets gallivanting around the world, and a quiet, hesitant mother whose opinion was never valued as an equal, Gil grew up with the desire to travel and develop a perspective of her own. Partially out of defiance, partially because she couldn’t stand staying in the same place for very long, Gil made it her life’s ambition to see the world with her own eyes and forge a future by herself - much to her father’s displeasure. People are a product of their environment, and people also don’t develop such severe opinions for no reason. Gil’s older brother Liam, a Pokemon enthusiast to an almost obsessive degree, had wasted hundreds of dollars on schooling and occupational preparation only to succumb to anxiety, freak out, turn his back on everything the day of his final exams, and devote his life to Pokemon breeding. He picked up a Chimchar from the Sinnoh Lab and just like that, the existence of Liam Chevalier was no longer acknowledged. Gil was envious, of course, because she really didn’t think it was fair he got to follow his life’s ambitions, whereas she was stuck pursuing some mundane, boring desk job she didn’t want. She almost considered asking to visit, maybe see if he’d breed her a Lillipup for a pet - sane company, her excuse was. Of course, due to Edward Chevalier’s volatile nature and propensity for lashing out at what he perceived as insubordination with a rough cuff to the ear, this opinion was wisely kept silent after the first few confrontations. In the back of Gil’s mind it festered, and she nourished it with resentment. Clandestine mock-battles in the schoolyard, surreptitious exchanges of what her father scornfully dubbed “filthy propaganda” - such as professional statistics and recordings of tournaments - anything Gil could get her hands on was used as artillery. Edward wasn’t totally oblivious, because Gil wasn’t exactly the paragon of stealth, but he remained silent - holding out for the hope his daughter was just “going through a phase” and that it’d all “blow over and she’d come to her senses”. Her mother, Dana, on the other hand, silently cheered her on with an almost savage sort of satisfaction. Her daughter was succeeding where she had failed, and maybe, if Gil was lucky, Gil would have the opportunities Dana never got the chance to experience. The tension built, rapidly escalating when secret desires turned into bold proclamations, Gil eventually stopped attending school, and her grades dropped from “decent” to “nonexistent”. Everything came to a head the day Edward stumbled blearily down the stairs at four in the morning, having been jolted from sleep by a large crash, and found his daughter cramming supplies into a backpack, shoes on her feet and a few Pokeballs at her belt. The resulting argument could have woken the dead, and just like that, Gil was fleeing her home, with shouts threatening to call the authorities at her back and the sun in her eyes, and for the first time in her life, everything was going as it should be. The black sheep of the family had taken her throne, estranged and all the better for it. She managed to contact Liam, made arrangements to stay with him in his current Kanto residence for a few years, maybe to get on her feet and figure out how she was actually supposed to go about training Pokemon, and as celebration (because he’d missed his little sister, really, he did), he offered her one of the offspring of his very first starter. For someone so grumpy, Gil really was a sentimental idiot. Notes/Other: Gil despises the cold, hence her preference for Fire-type Pokemon. Rarely, if ever, wears short sleeves.

lorelei Member

Wordweaver

Status

Bio

Most Recent Posts