March 14th, 2018
Post by thefriendlyghost on Apr 10, 2020 15:39:58 GMT -5
NAME --Professor Omen Wisteria
GENDER --Male
AGE --25
AFFILIATION --Neutral
CLASS --Trainer/Scientist
APPEARANCE --
The silhouette of Professor Wisteria is lithe, streamline, and cropped. The top of his head is licked with a tuff of noire that, no matter how much effort is output by a stylist, cannot be kempt. The rest of his hair is full and black, cropped right to the middle of his brow and undercut pristinely. His brow is always pressed with thought, anger, or stress, casting deep shadows on two burning, heavy-set crimson eyes. One thin nose, and two thin lips never really rest atop his unusually pale face, always twisted in a frown or deep ponder.
This sleek silhouette is impart to Omen’s height, at roughly 5’11, and his width. If he was standing sideways, he could probably disappear in the right light. Above all other factors, is his style, sporting a black, forty two regular, fitted double-breasted blazer, with matching thirty-by-thirty, slim-fit trousers. This look is finished with narrow black boots, a freshly pressed white shirt, and glossy obsidian skinny tie.
PERSONALITY --
There are a few defining features of Professor Omen Wisteria’s personality. The most prominent of them would be his constant frown, habitually plastered on his face, and it has been that way since youth, since before he could even remember. The second expression would in mimic to the first, its equally as pained and strenuous, and could be translated as “Lingering-on-a-thought” or “Loathing-One’s-Existence”. The last notable demeanour is a look that could kill, dead and stark, and full of bottled rage; unfortunately, these three expressions vary in the most subtle of ways and are practically indistinguishable from one another. This all makes understanding the Professor's motives rather difficult.
There is an element of stoicism that the Professor exudes, masking most of his emotions, but, what is a detriment in his personal life, amplifies his professional life. Omen is preoccupied with work, and not inclined to meet people, socialize, trying to find the meaning of existence through Ghost-Pokemon. Dealing with spirits and the supernatural, requires an overwhelming lack of fear and a dominating sense composure. He also believes it requires well as a crippling amount faith, though, the fact that he cannot prove that fact, troubles him.
HISTORY --Owen is from Kanto originally, and started his Pokemon journey at the prime age of ten with a Clefairy as his Pokemon companion. His parents, at least, what faint information of them he was told, saw much promise in his adventuring skills and were impressed with early and detailed knowledge of Pokemon. Their egg groups and types came almost second nature to him. Naturally, at the age of ten, he was pushed to sign up for the league, in hopes of bringing his family honour and fame. The day after his tenth birthday, he left Lavender Town to challenge the Pewter City gym leader; however, at the summit of Mt. Moon, he and Clefairy were attacked and severely injured. Owen nearly bled out on the cold lunar rock, while Clefairy, unfortunately, perished.
This is when and where they were rescued by The Father. A mysterious young man at the time, who was known to take in lost children from tormented by the dangers of the league and train them to be great masters. He did this in a custom school, orphanage, and church found deep in Lavender Town Woods. Unfortunately, lies and secrets festered in this complex; the Father’s church was bound to a dark promise to Giratina, sworn to seek vengeance against Arceus. The charming clergymen used modern science, masking it as dark magic to revive Owen. This miracle was passed of as some dark ritual, casting a life dept on the poor boy. The Father gave him a new companion in this ceremony too, one more suited to his gain, in hopes of indoctrinating him.
Owen was returned in a state of Amnesia, and made to believe he had strange portent ability. This was all just further manipulation. He was left with only his items as clues to his past. He was found with only a Pokedoll in the shape of Clefairy, with a name he couldn't recognize inscribed on the foot; However, his new gifted companion was a Mimikyu, and saw that signature’s ‘W’ as an ‘M’. Owen became Omen, and supposedly the spirit of Clefairy fashioned a new form in this doll. Ultimately, the chosen child of the Father’s Church was born and for eight whole years his work as a ward, pledge, and missionary were exemplary.
At the age of eighteen, Omen fled, Omen disbanded, severing himself from the Church of Giratina to research the paranormal, his faith, and the meaning of his existence through Pokemon. As with the stigma of all orphanages, he never returned. He never heard from the Father again. Perhaps is was this severance, this snipping of the umbilical, that prompted his success and drive. Perhaps it was a longing to know who he really was. Regardless, within seven years, he became a Professor; his faith faded slighting, but his adventure continued.
RP SAMPLE --[”This new region.”] He spoke allowed while writing in his notes. [“The sea air.”] He sighed, breathing in the minuscule flecks of salty water coming off the ferry. [“It’s relaxing.”] He continued, realizing this entry of his notes might seem more like a journal than anything scientific. He lingered on that thought. He lingered on that thought so long that began to annoy himself.
His Clefairy-Mimikyu rested in his shadow, away from questioning, or gawking. This costumed ghost cared not the attention or adoration of others, only the appreciation of its trainer. His shadow was warm; in fact, it was the warmest part of Omen. The shade was nice too, caching its dark form from the blistering sun.
[“Four hours still to go.”] He continued writing nothing of note, aggravating himself, vibrating in his own skin. The Professor slammed his book shut, and all agitation went still. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this work, Mim.” His voice trailed in a weak breath, looking for encouragement.
“This new region. Maybe it will shed some light on our research. Maybe it will give us answers.” This time, he spoke allowed, rambling louder and louder until he was in a full blown tangent. “What do you think we’ll find!” Amping up, venting to his muse, he awaited a response.
Unfortunately, Mimikyu had fallen asleep, ensconced in its trainer’s warm shadow. It let out a small snore adorable enough to calm the Professor.
