I have been struck with inspiration, and am eager to try out this new method of writing where fellow writers and appreciators of written artwork may submit their own characters, and I may work my magic with them. Will I survive this new way of incorporating characters, or will I lose interest and disappoint possibly a great deal of readers.
I hope I am not inclined, and am quite eager for this writing piece.
Hope you enjoy!
Mrs. Elizabeth Wickins strummed her fingers on the top of the kitchen counter. Her polished nails were not striking said counter because of boredom (though she did possess a smidgen of impatience) but because of withheld anger. She wanted to throttle the boy in front of her; Heaven forbid she loses her temper. Oh no, she was going to wait to hear his excuse, and there had better not only be an excellent reason for his ineptitude, but be a good portion of begging as well. She certainly wouldn't mind some more submissive behavior from her child. After all, it was under her roof he was currently living under, not to mention her womb he sprouted from.
With a swish of a very thick tail, a growlithe leaped into the air, snapped his head and snatched the steak she had been in the midst of chopping. Mother and son were frozen with surprise as the pokemon landed gracefully, and with smirking eyes, ran off with his prize. Once Elizabeth registered the loss of the family's dinner, she shrieked a vast number of unpleasant words that carried on in variety toward her son's aloof attitude and his unruly pokemon.
"Get some control over that mutt, would you? I was making your favorite dinner and now I'm ordering takeout, because I do not want to start from scratch again, and of course you're not going to cook." She snapped when she sensed a slight quirk of his mouth. It was gone once she aimed for closer inspection, but she had her suspicions. "I swear, ever since you've arrived back home you've been nothing but –" Cold. Absolutely cold. "Never mind. Not the point. The point is, is that I know I've told you a thousand times that I do not want you walking around in that thong of yours."
He looked down at the white skimpy cloth that she was referring to. He cocked his head, eyeing himself, then looked up. "Speedo." He corrected.
"Oh, a Speedo, forgive me." She all but snarled. Couldn't he at least have some shame to be caught in such attire by his mother? None of the other boys his age from the area would dare to be caught in such clothing, yet here was her son, acting like a peacock in all his glory. She blamed the modeling school; they corrupted his mind.
The only reason she had agreed to let him go to Sinnoh was because she thought it would be a great learning experience. He'd be out on his own in Hearthrome City, studying the pokemon in the varying towns. She figured Davion would be learning how to adapt to his surroundings and manage on his own. He would also be strengthening his modeling career, preparing him for a future. The issue was that every vacation that he was let out of school, his already quiet self seemed to become all the more voiceless. Conversations with him were minimal to the point where she wondered if he had lost his voice. It wasn't that he was shy, it was that he gave the aura of not caring enough to offer up enough words to share. He certainly was not the snobbish type – that was for sure. And then he would respond with that obnoxious–
She huffed. "Davion, go get the remains of the steak and clean up after that animal." He shrugged and then pushed himself off the wall, strolling away with a posture she vaguely wished she could recreate.
She was a proud mother, she had to admit. Even when the girls were piling at her door, and the number of male friends the boy possessed was low in numbers, she could not help but smile. Call her shallow, but she took pride in her handsome son. The eighteen year old stood out even at his modeling school, the population mostly filled with anorexic girls with Botox lips. A few sickly boys here or there, but no, her son was a beauty.
And oh how he knew it.
Always he would have one girl or another on an arm or two. Despite her lectures and chastising, he never stayed with one long, and she was positive that two-timing was not above him in his mind. She had originally hoped, after seeing the campus, the prestige of the school would whip him into shape, but no, it only enhanced his ego. Which she was proud he had, much better than a sniveling boy with a low self-esteem. She wouldn't want to have an unhappy son.
But she couldn't even tell if he was happy or unhappy anymore. He was simply uncaring. He would just stand off to the side, muscled arms folded across his broad chest, legs crossed defiantly as he propped his weight against whatever wall he claimed as his temporary property. His dark brown eyes would stare without curiosity, without malice, without wonder, just staring. A flutter of dark lashes hinting at a blink with a slight toss of his dark blond hair was the only reassurance she had that he was still alive.
That, and the instances when he would come to life with some blonde bimbo suctioned to his lips, squealing in delight that her son could even considered them as a girlfriend. Which rarely happened, he'd lose interest quickly. Or at least that's what Elizabeth assumed. What she hoped was that he saw that the girls were dumb whores, and that he shouldn't be wasting his time with them, and should find himself a more proper girl. Then he'd appear with a new, equally dumb girl, and she'd wonder some more.
Quite possibly their decision to allow him to go off to modeling school had been a mistake; they should have sent him off to a normal private high school. But he had wanted to explore the possibility, and even though his choice was a bit different, who was she to deny his dreams? She loved her son, and as worrisome his current personality was, academically he was sound.
The glass door that Davion had exited from slid open once again. Somehow in the short time that he had gone outside, his hair had been mussed with twigs so that bangs that normally hung in his eyes were in disarray. His knees were slightly scraped and his chest was covered in something sticky. The damn growlithe was munching on the remains of the steak, and oddly enough, her glameow, Mewsette, was in his other arm, licking a paw of hers. Her son appeared to have stepped off of a photo shoot for Poke-Fancy. What was wrong with him?
He dropped the pokemon unceremoniously, shutting the door behind him. He then brushed himself off, twitching his nose slightly at the mysterious sticky substance on himself. The glameow immediately ran over to Elizabeth, while the growlithe trotted back to his rightful trainer, looking awfully smug.
"Mom," she looked to her son. Was this an apology for his misbehaving pokemon? "Ginji was humping Mewsette again." She shrieked, scooping up her precious glameow. She didn't know what bothered her more: the fact that the pokemon seemed to be determined to make kittens, or that her son so blatantly explained the scenario.
"Davion, so help me, one more time and we are neutering that animal." Her son blinked several times at that comment. Slightly disturbed. "And while we're on the topic, put some pants on!" He looked down, then back at her. "Speedo bathing suits don't count as clothing. I don't care what they let you get away with, I want you covered."
Oh, and there is the rolling of the eyes. He sighed heavily, and once again left the room, hopefully to his room to get more appropriate pants. The damn growlithe trotted after him with a wagging tail.
"And if you can't find any pants, don't get into your suitcase; just borrow something from your father!" She advised as an afterthought.
Her mood dropped at the mentioning of his suitcase. He was going to be leaving again. Evan, her husband, was going to be sending the boy over to the year long trip. An exploration across the four regions, team-building based, where bonds would be made, character built, and a pokemon or two added to the team. Students would learn life lessons on living in the outside world where they would be living off of their own accumulating skills. It would be life changing, and it would be a great opportunity for teens to take. That was roughly what the advertisements had promised.
But a whole year after the previous four he spent away: she was really going to miss him.
Mewsette mewed at her owner curiously. Elizabeth shook her head. No, her son was going to be fine. No matter how much she missed him. He was going to learn, he was going to prosper, and he may even bring home a nice girl. Or two. She scowled at the knowing notion.
She bent over to place the glameow on the polished floor. She then stood her full height, accenting her heels, and then made her way to the phone. She felt like having Italian.
PM me with your character. I won't accept them as a review. And do try to be realistic about them. Thank you.
Appearance: Please give as detailed description as possible, but be realistic. If they have purple hair, it certainly is not natural. And the only way you can have red eyes is if you are albino or are wearing contacts. And do keep in mind albino is pretty friggin' rare.
Family: fyi, this is more game/manga-verse, so there will be no relations with anime characters, thank you.
Personality: There is no such thing as too much personality. However, I will not be happy with someone who is of the Mary-Sue genre.
History: Don't emo out on me. Keep it realistic.
From: town/area (give ideas for pokemon variety)
Pokemon: Four pokemon max, though you can have some in storage. No legendary pokemon. If you have a shiny pokemon, it is your /only/ pokemon. Same goes with eevee and any eevee evolutions. You cannot have a shiny eevee evolution. Please have descriptions of gender and whatnot.
Other: Any extra tidbits you'd like to share?
Davion: Reaction/feelings toward him. Even if you haven't met him, hypothesize how character would first react toward meeting him.