Pokemon Kaiju Region

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 ::Mysie Mao::

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Posts : 3
Join date : 2011-08-17
Age : 23

PostSubject: ::Mysie Mao::   Wed Aug 17, 2011 5:18 am

Gender: Female
Age: 16
Class: Adventurer
Faceclaim: Kurumi; Kimi ni Todoke


The girl got her more dominant features from her father: a soft, smooth rounded face that's completely clear of blemishes; undoubtedly due to the fact that she prefers to steer away from modern day cosmetics, excluding the occasional blush and lip gloss. Both fortunately and unfortunately for her, she has a natural blush that's simply breathtaking- it can be problematic however, considering it often gives away her emotions, which although easy to control on a normal basis, there are those moments in which her position is given away in the split second that she has to readjust to her surroundings. At which time, her gently curved eyebrows rise inquisitively, as if to say- 'I have nothing to be embarrassed about, but you do!' Her long dark hair is generally pulled into a messy attempt of a french braid, although she usually leaves her bangs alone; for some odd reason, they make her feel safer- almost as if they were a barrier between herself and the outside world. The occasional strand might find it's way through her thick and long eyelashes, and into the teen's chestnut coloured eyes, at which time her light pink lips pucker, and she would blow them away. A few locks would fall from the braid during certain activities, only to cascade over her narrow shoulders and flow gently with whatever sort of breeze there might have been.

Actually, the only part of her that doesn't stand out for her is her hair. It's long dark locks were rather common in the area, but there were quite a few things that did not. For one; her face. As mentioned before, she had gotten it from her father; the rugged Scottish man with golden hair and striking green eyes. That was all she knew about him however... Her own chestnut eyes- sure, they were common: but the shape in itself was not. Squinted slightly? Sure. However, it looked far different from the norm, although it's rather difficult to describe. It was as if her eyes were smiling, especially considering how they sparkle so. "Eyes like water", or so they say. Her body type- well, that's a little something she got from her mother. Definitely not an hourglass shape: but curvy nonetheless. At least as curvy as a girl her age could possibly get. She does however lack any hints of body fat- but that doesn't necessarily mean good for her. She's fragile, simply put; not skinny per se, but small and powerless. Fortunately for her, her personality does all of the fighting- and her agility takes care of the rest, for the most part. In those rare instances in which she cannot persuade a foe to see things her way... She generally relies on another; a friend; far stronger than herself to do the fighting. Hopefully he or she would be up for the challenge: honestly, who wouldn't protect the innocent girl getting pummeled to the ground for her beliefs?

Despite her powerful personality, Mysie tends to linger in the background, unless her assistance is called for. Or, of course- something she strongly believes in and stands for is insulted or questioned. In other words, her presence isn't exactly strong, except for when she wants it to be. In the mean time, she prefers to keep on her glasses, and stick to the books. Honestly, she plays the part of a lawyer perfectly; all that the aspiring politician could hope for. Hopefully her strength in regards to personality and presence would land her a position in the student council; it could possible give her a kick start in her career.

Height: 5'4''
Weight: 115 lbs
Eye Color: Chestnut
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Skin Color: Cream
Body Build: Slim


It's been made clear already that this girl relies solely on her personality to get her out of tight spots. And usually, it does the job. Well, here's why; Mysie, being the hormonal and knowledgeable individual she is, is widely known as someone who never gives up for what she believes in: unless of course she figures out that she was wrong to begin with. See, she's not your usual lawyer or politician that's only in it for the money and press coverage; she honestly cares... Then again, that's what they all say. She does however have an advantage that others do not. That's to be covered later on however. Of course, who wants to know about the business lady she is? People really care about her everyday norm, so here it is. Mysie is, simply put, a carefree individual. Outside of the time she saves specifically for studying and the such, she generally doesn't hesitate to go take a nap, take the dog for a walk, or perhaps even go to the occasional mixer. Honestly, she's the usual teenage girl- minus the stereotypical gossip machine and fashionista. Seriously though, there isn't much to know except for her hobbies, phobias, favorites and the such.

-Iced coffee, black.
-A good book
-Horror movies





Athazagoraphobia - Being ignored.
Myrmecophobia - Ants.
Coccinellidaephobia - Ladybugs.


Born on the warm day of the seventeenth in July, Mysie's fate had already been planned beforehand; she was to be placed in an orphanage in hopes that maybe she would be welcomed by a caressing family. Days after her birth, she was then sent to the orphanage, carefully snuggled in the arms of her mystery mother. Her parents, as one worker would have recalled, were dashing and had " molded " together perfectly arm-in-arm when they had reached the front of the orphanage with weary faces; their expression was sincere, and if they had the choice, they would have kept the baby. But somehow, their personal circumstance did not allow it; and though they carried striking differences from the other, a young man with strong sparkling emerald eyes and an angel for a woman with dark hair and bold obsidian eyes — they harmonized. No names were given, nothing. They even refused to enter the children-filled building. The lovely duo was careful when it came to leaking any sources of information about themselves; obviously, they had no need to be concerned about the girl's future. They didn't want to play a role in the child's life; they felt as if their daughter had to have the right to live freely without the burden of their existence. It didn't take long before the sleeping baby was enlisted as ' parent-less '.

Bright-eyed and absolutely darling, the yet-to-be-named baby had captured the sympathy and hearts of many in the orphanage. She rarely cried and was frequently filled with reasonless giggles, but she slept a lot. Many of the volunteer workers had even -jokingly- remarked about wanting to adopt her, but alas! -- if only were they just a few years older and had the money to support - they would have, and gladly, kept her. At long last after only a week in the shelter, a seemingly perfect couple had entered to view the variety of kids whom ranged from the newborns to teenagers. One thing was for sure, however — the two neatly-suited people wanted a baby. The needy woman was in a desperate desire for a baby, and had tried multiple of times to be impregnated by her exasperated husband, but her body never granted her wish. Her dream of having and raising a child was destroyed. She was incapable of giving birth. Before she was ready to have a mental breakdown, her beloved consulted her about adopting instead, but she was reluctant. The sobbing female wanted to give birth, she wanted to have a pot for a tummy, she wanted to be an actual mother; and most of all, she wanted to throw love and affection onto that imaginary child she had always dreamed of. After much persuading, she finally agreed, slightly bitter - they were going to adopt.

After visiting several adoption agencies, the couple began to face some personal frustration and pressure. They were never going to find their " perfect child ". That is -- until they had journeyed to the last orphanage in the list. Shaking their heads to children that did not catch their interest, their hearts started to wrench and twist. There was only ten more kids to look at before their adventure was to come to a dead end and none of them released that certain " spark " they had pathetically yearned for. Amidst the rampant midgets chortling and pouncing from place to place, the couple had heard a chime - no... A joyous giggle more like it - and followed the beguiling noise to a lone crib in the corner of the building where workers had frequented to look over the young life of which had brightened the area. And when the woman met the curious child, her face brightened. This was the one! Although much reluctance was met by the torn employees through the signing of the papers, the girl had finally found a home, and that was all that had mattered.

The day after the couple had settled their child into their two-story flat was the day that vibrant colors began to spread through the once dull household. The youth was adored by visiting peers and workers from her dear foster parents' workplace, and gifts had piled into mountains. Relatives whom had waited nearly centuries for the couple to possess a baby had journeyed from other cities simply to celebrate the excellent news. The months and few years after had been warm and consumed with sheer happiness. During that time, her mother was on a temporary leave from her job to take care of the young Mysie, her excuses would change from days to weeks, and eventually to months. Her accumulated absences had made the company she had served for years upset, and gradually, their great patience of waiting for the woman had evaporated. The hardworking father of the family had spent most time in work, trying to support the warmth that had been balanced so neatly, but it really wasn't enough. Threats to throw the woman off the job had been made clearly, and she immediately, though hesitantly, returned to her station, sometimes leaving the girl a night to herself without dinner or care. Mysie, always loved and adored by adults, had smoothly aged not knowing that she was actually adopted. And though strangers and relatives alike had commented more than once that she did not look like her parents, whom had a plain appearance in contrast to her startlingly magnetic atmosphere, she had never given it a serious thought or consideration.

As a carefree child, filled with smiles and grins, she hated to be burdened with things that had dared hold her back from adventuring out into the open air; she was a lively one, exuberating much potential to be well-liked among many. There had been times when her parents would speak of adoption during nights she was assumed to be asleep, but as easily distracted as she was, she paid no mind to it and was quick to bounce the suspicious word off her listening ears. When it came to the word "adoption" from her parents' mouth, the girl had always assumed that the family was considering to take in a dog or something of resemblance. That is, her mother and herself had showed signs of having a favor for canines. Of course, it was around this area of time, when she was the age of four, that the word " adoption " had become more frequent in both her mother and father's vocabulary. When her mother was forced to kneel down to save her job, her parents eventually began to experience the heavy pressure into raising a child they could no longer pay the time for. Nights without hugs and kisses dissipated into nothingness, and the faces she was used to seeing began to fade from her mind. The relationship of parent and child was destroyed by labor.

Every so once in a while, either of her parents would arrive early into the household, drenched with exhaustion and bagged eyes, and when the youth would warmly call out to them, they would ignore her and jump into bed. They wouldn't look at her anymore. They wouldn't talk to her anymore. They were devastated to the extreme, knowing that they were doing nothing right in balancing work and family — which was one of the reasons why Mysie's saddened and expectant face was difficult to look at. But they found it easier to ignore the center of their concerns, they found it easier to do nothing. When contact with the outside became infrequent, relatives and friends would dial in and speak with the overworked couple, requesting for a reunion. But they also wanted to see Mysie -- to see how much she had grown. Naturally, they agreed, but behind their friendly facade was slight resentment. Such an occasion had permitted the girl to be recognized, if not only for a little while. Days before such thing would have her frantic mother dragging him out of the house for new clothes, but that was it. Her parents wanted her to seem normal and perfect. And when Mysie would question her mother's behavior during rare outings, she would snap. Snap completely at her.

She would hiss at her and boast about how hard the family was working to provide for the girl, for food, for the house, everything -- and she slapped her. It was the last time the child had ever talked to her mother. She was scared of what was happening, but what she was scared of even more was the fact that the love that had once existed might be taken away from her. She still wanted her parents to love her. She still prayed for that, and still wanted it. She carried hope. Perhaps it was due to her mother's actions in general, that caused her to head towards politics in her teenage years; the very idea that other children such as herself would suffer in a situation like this... It hurt her -- and maybe she would find the means to stop it. Maybe she would even make her parent's lover her again through monetary means. Although attention was definitely given less than before, it had taken a turn for practically zero, nada, zip. Her father, tired of having to work up and fake way for the bombing of nosy acquaintances, automatically cut off all ties — the "ties" that had helped Mysie survive the days. Elementary school life was somewhat of a haven for her - a safe place where she had friends to keep her busy from what had gone at home. She tried hard to make herself seem normal because she knew that was what her parents would have wanted — to look perfect; and she did.

The girl had friends, and was the most friendliest student around. When mud-faced boys would point and escape from girls, shouting " cooties! ", the sparkling-eyed youth would always be the normal one - the one acting like an angel. And when one person was to hit another, creating a scene, she would always be the one to patch things up. Teachers and other exhibiting parents alike had often prized her as an " ideal child " - but she had decent grades, nothing extraordinary to take account of. That would change in later years; when she had decided on a goal to reach. Outside of school, where her building reputation of perfection had meant entirely nothing, the colors of warmth had crumbled into the gray. Dinner was infrequent and empty, the food of which her mother would bother to leave out on the table had became virtually nothing, and arriving into a house by herself with no scent of familiarity had became foreign. Her life suddenly transformed to something she had to persevere through. Survival became her. The large hope she had in her parents clouded into a diminishing desire, and she realized she couldn't rely on such irresponsible beings to take care of her.

She had to learn herself, and she had to quickly if she wanted to one day leave the hellhole. Mysie had traced chores to do around the neighborhood, earning small pocket change for future necessities and had started to rummage through the house's refrigerator for food. Despite many failures at attempting to prepare a dish, she had gradually learned how to not burn things; and to this present day, she's not a bad cook, much less an amateur pastry chef (in the art of chocolaty desserts). Not that it would help her whatsoever, except for if she ever became a wife one day -- another goal she set for herself; she wouldn't be a lone wolf her entire life. Realizing that she could no longer trust nor depend on her parents, Mysie decided to become " independent " when she registered in a Pokemon School for Adventurers. At best, the youth was still a child at heart, constantly yearning for her parent's attention and affection. Parents had often smiled at their young when they had achieved good grades, hadn't they? She quietly witnessed such vibe on the first quarter of report cards. Her grades were above average just like most of the class. Free time flipped into study time, books and papers became the central feature of Mysie's bedroom, commonly seen to be sprawled all over the floor. Assignments and tests were easy hundreds. In time she would gain the ranks, and eventually she would have some of the highest scores: although just enough to be noticeable; nothing like a genius freak's scores. Finally, she graduated as one of the top of her class- and she can move on to begin her career as a Pokemon collector.


Level: 5
Ability: Overgrow
- Tackle
- Growl

Personality: Bulbasaur is the baby of Mysie's team. She's constantly yearning for her attention and affection, and will stop at almost nothing to get it.



Mortal Enemy: --
Rival(s): --
Acquaintances: --
Good Friends: --
Best Friend(s): --
Dating: --
Loves: --
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Posts : 426
Join date : 2011-07-14
Age : 24

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PostSubject: Re: ::Mysie Mao::   Wed Aug 17, 2011 11:12 am

Pretty sure you said you weren't gonna RP here.

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Posts : 3
Join date : 2011-08-17
Age : 23

PostSubject: Re: ::Mysie Mao::   Wed Aug 17, 2011 5:57 pm

Eh, sort of. I said I wouldn't RP straight away, and I wouldn't be quite as active as I used to be.
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