Post by Ripley on Nov 22, 2015 14:45:44 GMT -5
Ripley
Age: 79
Fraction: Lapras Seas Guild
Gender: Female
Species: Carracosta, #565, Water/Rock
Ability: Rock Solid
Moveset: Protect, Shell Smash, Rock Slide, Hydro Pump, Aqua Jet, Crunch
Orientation: Heteroflexible
OOC Name: Rocket
Fraction: Lapras Seas Guild
Gender: Female
Species: Carracosta, #565, Water/Rock
Ability: Rock Solid
Moveset: Protect, Shell Smash, Rock Slide, Hydro Pump, Aqua Jet, Crunch
Orientation: Heteroflexible
OOC Name: Rocket
Appearance
Standing at around 4'2, only slightly taller than most of her kind, Ripley doesn't seem all that intimidating at from a distance, but most people who know her know better than to underestimate her. She's stocky, built like a brick outhouse, and she carries that weight well, moving with the kind of controlled efficiency you'd expect from a soldier. One of her most noticeable features, once you actually get close enough to see it in detail, is her shell. Dim and weather-beaten, Ripley's long since given up on giving it any kind of polish, and scratches, scars, and juvenile "tattoos" are scattered erratically across its surface.
Personality
Ripley's an old soul, both in the literal and figurative sense. It's even speculated, behind her back of course, that she was born old, which frankly isn't that far from the truth. She's an angry, cynical grouch, eager and ever-ready to rain on your parade. She doesn't talk much, aside from the occasional monosyllabic grunt, but when she does it's usually to complain about one thing or another.
At least, that's how it seems from the outside.
In truth, Ripley's something of a closet optimist. She believes, or wants to believe, that pokemon are capable of rising above their natures, above violence, and becoming something greater than they are. Naturally, she's been disappointed nearly every time, often by herself, and she's become increasingly bitter and withdrawn as a result. Still, her faith in her fellow pokemon's ability to change remains unwavering, for Ripley is nothing if not stubborn. Her loyalty to her ideology, and to the Guild and what it represents, is almost frightening in its intensity, and she would sooner die than turn her back on Lapras Seas.
That doesn't necessarily mean she's blindly loyal, of course. If anything, Ripley's almost a little too eager to call out errors in leadership or management. This, combined with her casual disdain towards younger folk, has made her one of the Guild's less popular members. Like all things she does, however, it's not without reason. Without somebody to question, to challenge, there can be no true leaders, and through her chiding she seeks to guide others away from her own youthful mistakes. Buried beneath Ripley's rough exterior is a powerful sense of shame and regret for the things she's done, and it may be a very long time before she even begins to forgive herself.
She's not entirely humorless, though. While not exactly the life of the party by any definition, Ripley is possessed of a droll, dry sense of humor, and it may take hours after a conversation has ended for anybody to realize she made a joke in the first place. She doesn't smile often (her face isn't built for it anyway), but the rare occasions that she does are for momentous occasions, like the birth of a child. Laughs are even fewer and more far between, and you'd have to work hard to get even a chuckle out of her.
She reserves a special kind of distaste for The Creed, seeing them as nothing more than reckless, immature bullies, serving no other purpose but self-preservation. She's of the belief that the strong of an obligation to the weak, to take them higher and, if need be, catch them when they fall, and it's very much at odds with The Creed's dogmatic "the strong survive, the weak die" attitude. In spite of this, violence is not always her first resort when encountering The Creed, and more often than not, especially when younger Hunters are involved, she'll attempt to talk them out of their membership. In Ripley's mind, nobody is beyond saving, and everyone deserves a second chance. Even the worst of the worst. Even her.
Her relationship with the past, and with extinct humankind, is somewhat complicated. While other pokemon would speak of humans in hushed tones or harsh invective, Ripley maintains a sort of reverence for them. After all, without humans, she wouldn't be alive today, and their legacy is one worth remembering in spite of their many mistakes. She's even made a habit of collecting fragments of human statuary, rearranging them into new, ersatz shapes in her spare time.
At least, that's how it seems from the outside.
In truth, Ripley's something of a closet optimist. She believes, or wants to believe, that pokemon are capable of rising above their natures, above violence, and becoming something greater than they are. Naturally, she's been disappointed nearly every time, often by herself, and she's become increasingly bitter and withdrawn as a result. Still, her faith in her fellow pokemon's ability to change remains unwavering, for Ripley is nothing if not stubborn. Her loyalty to her ideology, and to the Guild and what it represents, is almost frightening in its intensity, and she would sooner die than turn her back on Lapras Seas.
That doesn't necessarily mean she's blindly loyal, of course. If anything, Ripley's almost a little too eager to call out errors in leadership or management. This, combined with her casual disdain towards younger folk, has made her one of the Guild's less popular members. Like all things she does, however, it's not without reason. Without somebody to question, to challenge, there can be no true leaders, and through her chiding she seeks to guide others away from her own youthful mistakes. Buried beneath Ripley's rough exterior is a powerful sense of shame and regret for the things she's done, and it may be a very long time before she even begins to forgive herself.
She's not entirely humorless, though. While not exactly the life of the party by any definition, Ripley is possessed of a droll, dry sense of humor, and it may take hours after a conversation has ended for anybody to realize she made a joke in the first place. She doesn't smile often (her face isn't built for it anyway), but the rare occasions that she does are for momentous occasions, like the birth of a child. Laughs are even fewer and more far between, and you'd have to work hard to get even a chuckle out of her.
She reserves a special kind of distaste for The Creed, seeing them as nothing more than reckless, immature bullies, serving no other purpose but self-preservation. She's of the belief that the strong of an obligation to the weak, to take them higher and, if need be, catch them when they fall, and it's very much at odds with The Creed's dogmatic "the strong survive, the weak die" attitude. In spite of this, violence is not always her first resort when encountering The Creed, and more often than not, especially when younger Hunters are involved, she'll attempt to talk them out of their membership. In Ripley's mind, nobody is beyond saving, and everyone deserves a second chance. Even the worst of the worst. Even her.
Her relationship with the past, and with extinct humankind, is somewhat complicated. While other pokemon would speak of humans in hushed tones or harsh invective, Ripley maintains a sort of reverence for them. After all, without humans, she wouldn't be alive today, and their legacy is one worth remembering in spite of their many mistakes. She's even made a habit of collecting fragments of human statuary, rearranging them into new, ersatz shapes in her spare time.
History
Ripley has been a member of Lapras Seas since its inception twenty years ago, and as far as anyone can tell, she'll be around long enough to see it when it finally collapses. It's what she does, after all. Ripley's a survivor.
More than that, she's a relic, a prehistoric throwback resurrected in the modern age by human science, out of place in her own time. Her very first memories, fuzzy though they are, were of a laboratory, of crisp, official-looking men in white coats, of floating, untethered, in a saltwater tank surrounded by blinking monitors and blaring fluorescent lights. Life was an indistinct blur of test and experiments, wires stuck to her scales, made to swim in place or run mazes. Life was simple then, and she was too slow and naive to know anything else. The men cared for her, kept her fed and healthy and socialized with other pokemon.
Then the stars fell, and everything changed.
There was a panic, scientists rushing to and fro, scrambling to get to safety. And then... nothing. The lab was gone, and the men with it. All of the lab's specimens had been spirited away to Mew's Garden including the Tirtouga clutch, and so Ripley and her brethren were released into the wider world, only vaguely aware of the destruction that raged outside. Falling back on raw instinct, she fled to what seemed like the safest, most comforting place around. The ocean.
Her life became a fugue of violence, and Ripley grew brutal and savage in response. Fighting for food, for territory, for mates. The depths were an unwelcoming place, and days bled into weeks in a homogeneous stretch of bloodshed. Soon, the young Tirtouga grew strong, evolving, ready to annihilate any challenge in her way. She never went entirely feral, always retaining some degree of sense past the red haze, and she was careful enough to avoid any potential carriers of Star Madness. She visited land only occasionally, rampaging up and down the beaches and terrorizing small coastal villages. To fight was to live, to survive, and she wouldn't have it any other way.
It would be easy to assume that someone like Ripley, in those days, would be a natural recruit for The Creed, but apparently fate had other plans. Instead of finding those who shared her brutal worldview, she found Diana. Sweet, wonderful Diana. She was entranced by the Shaymin before she had even herd her speak, hypnotized by her grace, the way she seemed to almost float across a room. While not exactly a romantic attraction, in hindsight Ripley admits she might've had some feelings for the late Guild founder, and she took to following her wherever she went, listening to her message of peace and harmony. Life had not always been so unforgiving, she had said. There was another way. A gentler way.
Somewhere deep in Ripley's shell, a long-dormant part of her began to stir. It was a gentle thing, nurtured as it was by men in crisp white coats, by generous feeding times and friendly pokemon. The part of her, long dissatisfied by the state of the world, and of Ripley, began to take hold, and the Carracosta couldn't help but look at her life from a new angle. She had done wrong. She had hurt people, run roughshod over their lives. It was only right that she should make amends. So, when Diana made mention of a new Guild, she joined as soon as she was able. She's been with them ever since, and she's never regretted it once.
They may not be able to fix the world, but they can make it a safer place, and that's really all she can ask for.
More than that, she's a relic, a prehistoric throwback resurrected in the modern age by human science, out of place in her own time. Her very first memories, fuzzy though they are, were of a laboratory, of crisp, official-looking men in white coats, of floating, untethered, in a saltwater tank surrounded by blinking monitors and blaring fluorescent lights. Life was an indistinct blur of test and experiments, wires stuck to her scales, made to swim in place or run mazes. Life was simple then, and she was too slow and naive to know anything else. The men cared for her, kept her fed and healthy and socialized with other pokemon.
Then the stars fell, and everything changed.
There was a panic, scientists rushing to and fro, scrambling to get to safety. And then... nothing. The lab was gone, and the men with it. All of the lab's specimens had been spirited away to Mew's Garden including the Tirtouga clutch, and so Ripley and her brethren were released into the wider world, only vaguely aware of the destruction that raged outside. Falling back on raw instinct, she fled to what seemed like the safest, most comforting place around. The ocean.
Her life became a fugue of violence, and Ripley grew brutal and savage in response. Fighting for food, for territory, for mates. The depths were an unwelcoming place, and days bled into weeks in a homogeneous stretch of bloodshed. Soon, the young Tirtouga grew strong, evolving, ready to annihilate any challenge in her way. She never went entirely feral, always retaining some degree of sense past the red haze, and she was careful enough to avoid any potential carriers of Star Madness. She visited land only occasionally, rampaging up and down the beaches and terrorizing small coastal villages. To fight was to live, to survive, and she wouldn't have it any other way.
It would be easy to assume that someone like Ripley, in those days, would be a natural recruit for The Creed, but apparently fate had other plans. Instead of finding those who shared her brutal worldview, she found Diana. Sweet, wonderful Diana. She was entranced by the Shaymin before she had even herd her speak, hypnotized by her grace, the way she seemed to almost float across a room. While not exactly a romantic attraction, in hindsight Ripley admits she might've had some feelings for the late Guild founder, and she took to following her wherever she went, listening to her message of peace and harmony. Life had not always been so unforgiving, she had said. There was another way. A gentler way.
Somewhere deep in Ripley's shell, a long-dormant part of her began to stir. It was a gentle thing, nurtured as it was by men in crisp white coats, by generous feeding times and friendly pokemon. The part of her, long dissatisfied by the state of the world, and of Ripley, began to take hold, and the Carracosta couldn't help but look at her life from a new angle. She had done wrong. She had hurt people, run roughshod over their lives. It was only right that she should make amends. So, when Diana made mention of a new Guild, she joined as soon as she was able. She's been with them ever since, and she's never regretted it once.
They may not be able to fix the world, but they can make it a safer place, and that's really all she can ask for.
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