[hider=Song]
[b]Name:[/b] Song
[b]Age:[/b] 19
[b]Sex:[/b] Female.

[b]Appearance:[/b] A short, slender girl covered head to toe in lean muscle, what Song lacks in size, she makes up in sheer force of presence. Her tawny brown skin is littered with faint scars, some big, some small, but all with a story. Her straight black hair is usually either pulled into a ponytail or done in a long braid that reaches her thighs. She considers just hacking it all off at least once a month, but it's a point of pride for her that aside from her bangs, she's never cut it before. The tips of her messy, side swept bangs are dyed an electric blue and often fall to partially cover her slanted grey eyes. There's a certain elegance to her sharp features, but mostly they just serve to set people off – she is angular like the tip of an arrow, constantly observing those around her, watching for a weakness and a time to strike. At least, that's the vibe most people get. 

Song has a total of three tattoos: one on the right side of her neck, one on the right side of her ribs, and one on her left shoulder, creeping up her collar bone and trailing down her arm. The one on her neck is simple and small – it's a single line of a heart monitor, starting straight, jumping up and down for the hills and valleys, and then evening out again. The one on her ribs was actually her first tattoo, but no one knows what it is as no one's ever seen it before. The third tattoo is by far the most eye-catching. Done as though painted with messy, dripping, black ink strokes, it depicts a crashing tidal wave, made up of watery thorns and wild flowers. Though the bulk of it is contained to her shoulder, it spans from where her neck and shoulder meet all the way down to her elbow, with stray flowers and water drops staining her skin. In many ways, to see this tattoo is to see Song – captivating, chaotic, and with a quiet sort of power.

To contrast her striking appearance, her outfit is simple – loose black pants, a tank top (in a variety of colors), dirty boots, and occasionally an oversized grey jacket. Song wears no jewelry, but does keep a silver ring, accented with a tiny blue stone, buried deep in her pants pocket. Every now and then when no one's looking, she'll pull it out and fiddle with it.

[b]Personality:[/b] Song is the type of person who can make you want to punch her in the face with a single look. She’s quiet and calm in the way a predator is as it crouches low in the brush and watches its prey. In fact, 'predatory' is a good way to describe her in general. From the way she observes everything around her, to her hidden smile that seems to say she knows more than she's letting on – and much more than you – Song has the air of someone always measuring and evaluating those around her – and finding them lacking. This is mostly done to unnerve and irritate others. Song delights in pushing people’s buttons, even when it would be in her best interest to back off. 

While she has a devil-may-care attitude, and practically drips with confidence, Song is a lonely person, with a low self-worth and a constant need to prove herself, to validate that what she’s doing is [i]right[/i] and acceptable, both to herself and to others. She’s constantly stuck between her childish search for validation and her equally childish compulsion to do the opposite of what is acceptable to prove to herself that she doesn’t need anything and can get by without anyone’s approval just fine. These competing attitudes within her can only lead to self-sabotage. But every time she does this to herself, she just carries on with the same aloof demeanor, brushing away the repercussions of her actions as if it was her plan all along.

[b]Profession:[/b] Previously a warrior. Currently an underground fighter. Soon to be a trainer.

[b]Talents:[/b] 
[list][*]Basic abilities of a Sengun warrior, but no special skill yet or pokemon link
[*]Special affinity for water and psychic type pokemon
[*]Expert fighter (not so much pokemon battler)
[list][*]Mystriver style with some Verdan influence[/list]
[*]Good at reading people (not good at working with them)
[*]Slight of hand
[*]Resourceful and focused (when she feels like it)
[*]Decent swimmer
[*]Flexible moral compass (she probably shouldn't list this as a talent)[/list]

[b]Starter Pokémon:[/b] A male caterpie named Comet. He’s level 5, has a timid nature, the ability Dust Shield, and knows tackle and string shot. He’s really more pet than partner.


[b]Inventory:[/b] 
[list][*]Blue PokeLink
[*]P$180
[*]Old backpack
[list][*]Ponigiri maker
[*]Small notebook
[*]Pencil case
[*]Some envelopes
[*]Pouch of berries
[*]5 pokeballs
[*]1 full heal
[*]1 revive
[*]2 potions
[*]Basic first-aid kit
[*]A few changes of underwear, socks, and tank tops, and one extra pair of pants
[*]Personal care items
[*]Thin blanket
[*]Hand wraps 
[*]Water bottle
[*]Pocket knife
[*]Lighter[/list][/list]

[b]Hometown:[/b] Mystriver City, Mystriver Isle, Sengun

[b]Biography:[/b] [hider=wall-of-text alert]There was once a young girl who was born on Mystriver Isle. Her parents were already aging, their bones beginning to weaken, and it was difficult to find work that would accommodate them. They barely had enough to feed themselves, let alone their unexpected child, but year after year they scraped by, if only just. Because they were old and grew more and more tired with each passing day, they didn’t have the energy to keep up with a mischievous little girl. They often found her getting into some sort of trouble in the city, whether it was teasing another child and making them cry, or swiping cookies from the bakery. They scolded and disciplined their daughter time and again, but nothing seemed to work. But then one day they had an idea: River’s Flow Dojo. 

They brought the girl to Master Song, asking if he’d accept her into his dojo as a pupil. He knelt down before her, inspecting her with sharp eyes as she fidgeted. She was a small one, and lacked any sort of discipline, but Song had dealt with more difficult students than her. She had the makings of a warrior locked within her tiny body. He agreed to accept her as a student at a reduced rate, and thus the girl's training began. 

Though not quite a natural, the girl took to her training quickly. That is, after Master Song had beaten some discipline into her. She learned focus, how to wipe away all other thoughts and goals that weren't immediate, how to force herself to practice, train, push her sore and trembling muscles until she wanted to collapse. She enjoyed the feeling of accomplishment that came with her training, but more than that, she'd heard about all the opportunities that came with being a warrior. If she got good at this, she could make money, [i]real money[/i] for her parents. With every turn of the season, they grew more bent and weary. Work was harder and harder to come by, and the girl started picking up odd jobs around the city to help with the bills. Of course, with this extra chunk of time taken away, she had less time for her training. So she did the reasonable thing and started cutting school. 

As the years dragged on, the girl got more comfortable with her training. She still enjoyed it, but it was getting… monotonous. Focus, drills, discipline, drills, spar, spar, drill, focus… She was confident with herself and wasn't really challenged anymore, but Master Song insisted that she wasn't ready yet to be a warrior. She'd already reached the requisite level of martial proficiency, and had even discovered what types of pokemon she specialized in (a true Mystriver girl, she was bound to water and psychic types) but the problem was she didn't have any actual interest in pokemon. It's not that the girl disliked them, she just wasn't enthusiastic about fighting alongside anything else. And this showed whenever she had to coordinate with others – pokemon and human alike. Master Song refused to move her forward until she learned to cooperate with a partner. So naturally, instead of doing as her master directed and working on playing well with others, she started experimenting on her own with her fighting style, learning ways to annoy the heck out of her opponents. But mostly, she grew impatient.

The balance the girl’d managed to find between home, work, and training shifted when she was sixteen. She discovered underground fighting. A few of the older students were whispering about it one day after class, quietly placing bets on this fighter or that. Curious, the girl snuck up and listened in. Her eyes widened as she processed what she was hearing. They were gambling on fights. It was illegal, but it also meant it was unregulated – human versus human, pokemon versus pokemon, even pokemon versus human. There were no rules for who could join with the exception of an entrance fee. The girl's family was notoriously poor, but if she could find the money and [i]win[/i]… there'd be no more of this stupid waiting. Her parents wouldn't have to run themselves ragged anymore.

So when practice at the dojo ended, she stayed behind after everyone had left. Heart pounding, she crept into Master Song's office with a stolen key and opened a locked drawer in his desk. The girl stole P$300 for the entrance fee and ran to the old warehouse where the fighting took place.

She snuck back into the dojo that night to return the money she'd taken, bruised but triumphant. Underground fighting was much more brutal than any sparring she'd done at the dojo, but it was also [i]fun[/i], and she was good at it. Granted, her only fight had been against a tall, reedy boy who'd joined on a dare to impress his friends (and probably didn't know the first thing about actual fighting) but people had been quick to bet against her, the skinny little thing who looked more child than woman. 

But when she opened the door to Master Song's office, he was already in there. He was silent for a long time, but the silence didn't last. It soon devolved into a shouting match between the two of them. Her master, angry and disappointed, demanded to know why she'd stolen from the dojo when she could've just asked for help. Moreover, why she'd thought [i]illegal gambling[/i] was the way to go. The girl knew her master was right, knew he was only so angry because he loved her in his own way and this was a betrayal, but she was too insecure to recognize what she'd done. So instead she screamed at him that it wasn't a big deal, and she was returning the money anyway, and fighting like that had been the most worthwhile use of her time since joining this stupid dojo. Their fight grew more and more heated, until it finally reached a breaking point: Master Song expelled the girl from the dojo.

Sometimes she thinks she's still frozen in that moment, unable to move forward, and desperately wanting to go back.

She threw all the money she'd won at him, letting the bills scatter on the floor, and ran. Master Song didn't follow her. The girl didn't go home that night, choosing instead to aimlessly wander the streets of Mystriver. When she finally did return home the following morning, her parents were beside themselves. Not only had they been worried when she didn't go home, but Master Song had called them and told them what she'd done. There was no explosive fight like there'd been with the master. Instead there was just quiet worry and disappointment. That was worse. 

Trapped in the consequences of her actions, having disappointed the three most important people to her, and cut off from the one purpose she'd been working towards for almost her entire life – becoming a warrior – the girl couldn't breathe. So she ran instead. She grabbed her old backpack, stuffed a few belongings in it, and left Mystriver without a word. She made her way south to Verdan, picking up a squishy caterpie for a companion on the way.

Living as a vagabond teenager in Verdan with no money, no home, and no friends was difficult to say the least. She got through her first few weeks through a combination of stealing, resourcefulness, and sheer determination. Every moment she second-guessed herself, wanting nothing more than to run back home and bow at her parents' and master's feet, sobbing for forgiveness. But while she'd left Master Song, the discipline he'd instilled in her couldn't be forgotten (though this was hardly a worthy use for such a skill). 

Eventually she saved up enough money to enter into Verdan's underground fighting scene. Her first night there went much the same as that night in Mystriver – people laughed at the little girl who wanted to be a fighter, and then promptly shut up when she proved to be a brutal opponent to go up against. The announcer asked for her name, and she felt an irresistible impulse bubble up inside her.

She gave him her old master’s name, and the girl became Song. It was petty of her, but in that moment all she could think was how [i]pissed[/i] the master would be when he heard of Song from Mystriver fighting in the underground rings of Verdan. (A smaller, more honest part of her whispered that she took his name out of respect to him, a feeble attempt to reconnect to what she’d lost. Song would be lying if she said she didn’t still miss her home, her parents, the warmth of her master’s approval… She lies often.) Starting then, Song filled an envelope without a return address with most of her money every month and mailed it to her parents.

After three years, the fighters of Verdan learned to not be so quick to bet against her, and only people who actually took her seriously and could pose a challenge chose to meet her in a fight. She had less and less money to send to her parents. Song still daydreamed about going back home every day, but how could she face anyone? She couldn't. So Song continued on with her life, watching the envelopes get thinner and thinner each month. But then she saw a flyer advertising Sengun's new Pokemon League.

It started off as just a seed of an idea, but eventually grew in Song's mind like a weed, vines curling around all other thoughts and choking the life out of them until it was the only thing left. Would her parents be proud? Would her master? She tried telling herself  that she didn't care, it didn't matter what they thought, but that was a weak lie. If she could win, she'd make sure her parents never had to work again, and prove – prove what exactly? That wasn't a question that Song let herself answer. But there was also the issue of if she even [i]could[/i] do this. She was determined and resourceful, and her training coupled with her years in the underground world had made her a hard one to knock down. But she also had no skill with pokemon, or working with others. A fire flickered on in her at that thought. Who was to say she couldn't be good at it? Her master had told her she… Song shook her head. It didn't matter what he'd said all those years ago. She could do this. Before she could change her mind, she packed up her few belongings, grabbed the flyer, and started making her way to Regala to become a pokemon trainer. [/hider]
[/hider] 

funnily enough, she was already named song before i started looking through the information spreadsheets and saw the mystriver dojo master’s name. i liked it too much to change it, so i just reworked her backstory to accommodate. there weren’t many details about the different masters, so i may have taken some liberties. for some reason i also decided to write a novel for her backstory and i am very sorry for subjecting you to it.

i was actually really iffy on this character and i'm kinda nervous posting her, so just tell me if anything needs to be changed. (but please be gentle when you do Q.Q)