Eve Iridescence

Name: Eve Iridescence
Nickname/Alias: Iris
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Birthplace: Phenac city, Orre
Trainer Classification: Currently undecided
Character Tracker: Tracker here

Height: 5'6"
Weight: 65 kg
Appearance:

With long brown tresses and glittering grey-green eyes, Eve is not particularly an eyesore to look at. However, her fashion sense is. Or the lack thereof. Her brightly coloured and somewhat ill-fitting clothes make her stand out like a firefly in a crowd. With a relatively fit build - because slim is such a strong word - she is grudgingly atheletic, but still awkward in her movements. Though her build looks a little on the heavy side, she's actually quite light on her feet. Her casual clothing usually consists of monochromatic coloured frock's, paired with some pants. For more special occasions, she might don a T-shirt and skirts, but her favourite casual wear of all are full-sleeved shirts and jeans.
Her complexion is somewhat fair, unusual for an Orre native, but could be attributed to her move to Kanto. She's not particularly interested in her physical looks, but she does manage to stay clean and presentable - most of the time. Her flowing hair keeps falling in somewhat natural steps, to her mild chagrin and secret pleasure. She usually adorns a small home-made charm around her slim, milk-white neck. If one observed closely, one might see odd purple flecks in her stormy emerald eyes, surprisingly endearing to her heart shaped face, framed by soft sepia locks. She likes weaving fallen flowers into her hair for a while, as long as nobody sees her in them.
Her footwear consists of knee-length boots, which she maintains, surprisingly. Her other feetwear just weather away. She paints on all her clothes, often leading to some interesting patterned wear. This volatile girl can most often be viewed walking around in her favourite graffiti'd boots, tight jeans and a pokemon-adorned shirt.
Her hands are rough from hard, happy work, and her frame, while lithe, is also sturdy. There is something about the vibrance within her that shines outwardly as well, something about the light flowery scent that lingers about her that reminded one of the beautiful
capricious, reluctant spring, lingering along through April and May in a succession of sweet, fresh, chilly days, with pink sunsets and miracles of resurrection and growth. When she smiles, the violet tints in her eyes shine, shine bright enough to rival the stars, enveloping a dusky echoing twilight within them.
From working with pokemon for as long as she can remember, she has little marks as remembrance, here and there. A fading echo of a life. Most prominent of them is a scar on her neck, inclining downwards, on the left side of her neck. She also has a couple of mild burn marks on her upper arms, hidden by her clothes. A tattoo of a Trapinch head, a roughly 2cmx2cm black ink mark on her thigh reminds her of her very first friend.

Defining Traits:
Tattoos and marks on skin, flecked eyes, lengthy hair.

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Personality


Personality:
Eve is a complex, contradicting person, taxing to all those around her. She has a fierce rebellious streak, with powerful ambition and the will to get there, wherever she needs to get. Impatient, she demands instant obedience - with that being strictly a one-way deal. She is lazy! Somewhat of a brat, her stubbornness is off the charts, and is disobedient to the core. These over-whelming traits are some of her most prominent. Her deceit is second to them; she hesitates, but will not shirk that method to get what she wants. Headstrong and impulsive, though one might associate such characteristics with unthinking behavior, Eve possesses mean tactical and analytical skills. Intelligent, and often considered strange by others, she is very secretive and prefer to keeps to herself. She has great insight and her deduction skills are unlike any other. She is meticulous and tends to be a deep thinker that can see the “big picture”, and seldom needs - or asks for - advice.
Eve is not accustomed to false modesty - if she says something, she means it; as is wont of her clear, transparent nature. She recognizes the power of words, and wields them carefully, gaining amazing eloquence. Although, she is someone who isn't in touch with reality and tends to be lost in another thought or daydream. Naive and forgetful, she has the potential to be a free-spirited, happy-go-lucky person with the right company. She closes up instantaneously to strangers, feeling awkward under the judging gazes of society, and generally avoids crowds like the plague, though with fluid motions, she can usually slip through them.
She appears to be detached and uncaring, but when it comes down to it she is a very motivated and driven person. She fights for what she believes in and is very powerful. She would protect the ones that she cares for, even at the cost of her life. Though she is very laid back to the point of being lazy; her true strength lies in her ability to think up the best strategies for defeating an enemy. However, Eve can be selfish. Oh, so selfish. Rarely, if ever, thinking of others' happiness, she places herself above all others. Sparing nary a though for other humans, one might take her distaste for intense misanthropy and narcissism.

Eve has a sense of humor that might not be appreciated by everyone, witty and cynical. That is, when she can think of a retort. She has keen observation skills though, so it's more often than not that she ends up spewing something awkward. She can be a loud, hyperactive and unpredictable person, swayed easily by her strong, explosive emotions.
She is rather pliable, more confused about herself than others out there, and has mixed feelings about change, which she sees as a rather large subject. After all, nothing was consistent. She might often do odd, eccentric things and question them later. However, don't let her gullibility fool you. She is infamously known as the stubbornest person.
Eve is mysterious, to the point that she suddenly zones out, eyes glazing over and 'looking at something only she can see', whatsoever it may be. Her vivid imagination loses her to golden frenzies of wind-stirred buttercups and glories of wild roses, golden domes of sunsets and heavy, dusky violet twilights. She refrains from doing things sometimes, so people wouldn't know what she is to do next, to remain unpredictable always, and naturally distances herself from people, aloof and shrouded in a cloak of night. No one knows, or will ever know, the thoughts registered in her mind. Her subtle, luculent movements keep her behavior from being read easily, though this behavior is not gained sub consciously. She consciously keeps track and is aware of all that goes around her, to the point of observing minute details.
Her personality, as such, is as fluid as her whims. Very random, they appear as random splashes of color on an otherwise blank canvas of paper. She can be shy a moment, and a raging she-dragon the other. She rather enjoys asking questions; the suddenness and overall oddity of them amuses both the speaker and the receiver. She learns through that way too! She has a brisk mental pace, and vivid imaginations. So not to say that she's not aspirant - she too, like all other humans, has dreams and ideals. She'd love to be divinely beautiful or dazzlingly clever or angelically good. She does her current task with all might and main, especially profound reflection.
She ruminates upon seemingly insignificant features of the world, for all material upon this mortal earth have consequence, and life, however short, may or may not be insignificant. The person makes the life, and yet the fleeting life of a person itself mayhaps means something. And yet something may not be what it seems. Her thoughts flip at this tantivy rate, dancing a merry tap.
Her imagination takes form in paintings and drawings. She often writes, harnessing the power she so delicately wields, and she has excellent, smooth strokes. When she isn't challenging her eye-hand coordination, she likes to lie around and imagine: weave entire tales out of experience or memory. She enjoys placing herself in books or paintings and imagining out her life, though it is a secret pleasure of hers: she'll never let anyone know of this hobby! She carries around a small sketchbook and a complete drawing kit.
Eve is brave - she will place herself in the path of danger to protect those who she loves. The glancing blow in her exigent past has not fazed her one bit, and she remains as herself as ever. Slightly less pugnacious and loquacious than she was as a child, she still makes a wonderful, unique, colourful mixture of a person to meet.
Strengths:
Persistent
Imaginative
Mature (kinda?)
Logical/tactical/analytical
Weaknesses:
Lazy
Dishonest
Rebellious
Disobedient
Selfish
Battle Style:
Eve is a statistical person. Barely looking past the tactical value of a pokemon, she undergoes immense calculations, crunching numbers, predicting outcomes, and thinking up new and fresh strategies. Hence, she often battles poorly if a single one of these circumstances is not fulfilled, or if the environment is turned against her. She also often deviates from the path of regular, single dimension battle, some outcomes rewarding, some - not so much. She is baffled if she is proved wrong, fumbling fatally. She changes her strategy, depending upon the opponent, though the bare bones remain the same, and she shirks risks usually.  

History:
Mrs. Asra Iridescence lived just where the Phenac main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed with alders and ladies’ eardrops and traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods; it was reputed to be an intricate, headlong brook in its earlier course through those woods, with dark secrets of pool and cascade; but by the time it reached Iridescence’s Hollow it was a quiet, well-conducted little stream, for not even a brook could run past Mrs. Asra Iridescence’s door without due regard for decency and decorum; it probably was conscious that Mrs. Asra was sitting at her window, keeping a sharp eye on everything that passed, from brooks and children up.
She was sitting there one afternoon in early June. The sun was coming in at the window warm and bright; the orchard on the slope below the house was in a bridal flush of pinky- white bloom, hummed over by a myriad of bees. She sat knitting, resplendent in her house, enjoying the crisp coolness of spring in the dry desert that was Phenac. Thanks to the bottomless oasis the city housed, the Iridescence’s were one of the few who had fertile soil and backyard gardens, for space was to be had aplenty. She was keeping a sharp eye on her daughter, Eve, who was gambolling happily, chasing after some friendly Masquerain on her hands and knees, crawling energetically at the age of 6 months.
Ethan Iridescence and the brightly blazing sapphire flamed Rapidash jogged comfortably over the eight miles to his destination. It was a pretty road, running along between snug farmsteads, with now and again a bit of balsamy fir wood to drive through or a hollow where wild plums hung out their filmy bloom. The air was sweet with the breath of many apple orchards and the meadows sloped away in the distance to horizon mists of pearl and purple.
He was off to an errand: to pick up something. A smile lilted across his face at the thought of the joy the surprise present would bring his darling daughter, Eve. Spring was the prettiest time of the year, and he passed the bejewelled stretch of four or five hundred yards long road, completely arched over with huge, wide-spreading apple-trees, planted years ago by an eccentric old farmer. Overhead was one long canopy of snowy fragrant bloom. Below the boughs the air was full of a purple twilight and far ahead a glimpse of painted sunset sky shone like a great rose window at the end of a cathedral aisle.
The fleeting, sweeping white blossoms reminded him of the daughter and wife he loved so, and he broke off a branch that swept the side of the buggy, for Ethan was a man who loved deeply and whole-heartedly. The petals lilted like the shy smile of a bride decked in white, with a lovely misty veil. The twilight twinkled like the coruscate luminescence of a chubby baby’s eyes, flushed with the happy rouge adorning her cheeks. All was well with the world.

Mrs. Gwen peeked out the window, a smile of satisfaction appearing when she noted how exactly on time Ethan was. She had the package ready - she glanced over at a paper-covered hexagonal package, large and bulky, moving slightly with muffled cries emerging from it. Eve would love it, just as all those around her loved her enthusiastic and open nature. She opened the door wide for the proud father as he harnessed the equine to a post, allowing him to stride in with a bright smile. No words were necessary; with gleeful, polite nods, the package exchanged hands and Ethan strode out. Gwen waved goodbye, standing at the doorway; a lone Flygon dropping down from the ceiling and hovering worriedly near her left shoulder.

"Where's my wonderful baby girl?" Ethan boomed, walking in, grinning from ear to ear. Asra smiled, getting off her chair and sweeping the ecstatic baby from the floor, holding her up to the loving father. He grabbed Eve's tiny fingers and nibbled on them gently, sending the child in hysterics of delight. It didn't take long for her to notice the fidgeting package though, and she clapped her father on his cheek to be put down. She shot off towards the package as soon as it was done so, missing the mildly worried glance her mother gave her beaming husband. Asra leaned down, steadying the impatient child, while Ethan strode over and ripped the paper from the package. The noises instantly quietened, before starting again, rising a couple of octaves and decibels. Eve was struck dumb in astonishment, and gaped with mouth open.
Asra clutched her baby tight as Ethan opened the cage, and out waddled a tiny Trapinch. One look at the massive, outsized, powerful jaws the stocky Ant wielded, and Asra was struck with fear, making up her mind instantly. "No, Ethan. Don't let that thing near her." She hissed. Ethan looked confused, tilting his head at his wife. "What? Look, it's a baby." He rolled the Trapinch over, tickling it's belly with a finger. The Ground type gurgled with pleasure, all fear forgotten, and nipped at Ethan's fingers.

He reached over and pulled Eve gently from Asra's protective hold, and laid her at his feet, about a foot from the Trapinch. Both baby and pokemon regarded each other curiously, silently. Eve was sucking on her thumb, while the Trapinch shuffled uneasily, inching closer to sniff at this new entity that smelt of warmth and milk. Suddenly, unabashedly, Eve reached over and patted the Trapinch, wet thumb and all. The young pokemon delightedly pushed against her chubby hand, and a bond was formed.
Ethan smiled triumphantly over at a somewhat sheepish Asra, who had lost none of the snap in her worry, and got up to tend to his ride. Asra remained a while longer, separating the two when her husband walked back in. In the half-hour or so that had passed, the two infants had formed an unbreakable, ethereal bond that transcended the boundaries of ordinary friendship. In that fateful half-hour, the two had learned to love each other deeply and fiercely, and so it would remain till the end of time.

But so it would not be. Five years later, sorrow settled upon her life; no life is ever quite the same again when once that cold, sanctifying touch has been laid upon it. A terrible drought had settled upon Phenac a year ago, and while the citizens had prayed for it to end, grasped onto the impossible hope of rain, the drought had persisted. It was blazingly hot, but women were forced to travel miles for water. The once freely flowing fountain now ran dry, and already people had begun migration towards more hospitable climates, scared by the deaths that befell houses each day.

Eve had been lucky. Her family had taken the measure declared that women and children got water first, unlike some more desperate neighbourhoods, and while she ran with eternal thirst, she was healthy and happy. She understood the gnawing, dry pain in her, but did not understand the reason for it. Asra, however, had a pressing concern upon her. Everyday Ethan drained drier, grew more irritable. Lack of water made one desperate. However, though he could no longer convey it, his love for his wife and child never ebbed. Where his love was once flowery and cheerful, now his love was staid, steadfast, long-suffering. His smile was bottomless; he always had a smile ready for Eve when she glanced his way. Trapinch, however, was thriving. Though preferring to keep indoors due to the intense heat outside, he loved burrowing in the dry, flaky sand.
However, Asra's worry reached peak point one day when Ethan failed to smile or greet. He walked around slumped, slouched, like a walking dead. Eve was frightened by this new entity; this was not her father! Her father did not look at people hungrily. Her father did not have this feral look in his eyes. And worst of all, she could no longer safely predict her father. She did not think that if she ran up to him, he would hoist her in the air and whirl her around. He would no longer go over and comfort her quietly at a look or whim. She spent all day hiding in her mother's skirts.

When the unforgiving heat died down in the evening, Asra hurriedly ran out to collect her daily ration of water. But today was a little different. Today, Eve was taken along, leaving Ethan alone in the house, brooding and unreacting. The young child, while unhappy at being separated from her constant companion, tagged along excitedly. The outside world!
All she was met with on the dry, dusty road was bales of hay rolling in the dry air, stinging particles that hurt her eyes, nose, face...and silent, dark, long lines of wasted away people. She buried her face in her mother's skirt, welcoming the darkness.

She remembered not too well what happened over the next few days. She merely knew that she never saw home again. Or the inside of it, or home, as such, as she knew it. Her mother shrieked as she returned, shielding Eve from the gruesome sight that was once her house. A crowd had already gathered, sparing the child from the atrocities that directly faced her. Poor young life. She knew not that requirement made animals of people. The father she knew once was no more. And with him, torn limb from limb, the friend she had once known, poor Trapinch too had not known the fate that awaited in the hands of the man he trusted. Now the price he paid was his blood at Ethan's lips.

That was when Asra moved to Kanto with her young child, the only belongings they possessed on her back. Dehydration, even in this land of plenty, had become her greatest fear, though Eve was mercifully mentally unaffected. Living under the shield of a wing, Eve grew to the age of 16, during which time she discovered the plentiful riches and delights Kanto had to offer.
Eve had made good use of every waking moment of those years. Already she was acquainted with every tree and shrub about the place. She had discovered that a lane opened out below the apple orchard and ran up through a belt of woodland; and she had explored it to its furthest end in all its delicious vagaries of brook and bridge, fir coppice and wild cherry arch, corners thick with fern, and branching byways of maple and mountain ash. She had made friends with the spring down in the hollow— that wonderful deep, clear icy-cold spring; it was set about with smooth red sandstones and rimmed in by great palm-like clumps of water fern; and beyond it was a log bridge over the brook. That bridge led Eve’s dancing feet up over a wooded hill beyond, where perpetual twilight reigned under the straight, thick-growing firs and spruces; the only flowers there were myriads of delicate ‘June bells,’ those shyest and sweetest of woodland blooms, and a few pale, aerial starflowers, like the spirits of last year’s blossoms. Gossamers glimmered like threads of silver among the trees and the fir boughs and tassels seemed to utter friendly speech.

And she thrived. Already long ago had she marked the face of the friend she refused to forget, forging it out of pure ink and purer blood, and she reveled in showing all her delights to him. Everyday she grew more radiant, each day she ran up a slope like a Deerling, and solemnly stared down at her house, a homely cottage set in an indent in the ground. Her bedroom was set in the east, where she liked to see the sun rise everyday. Tomorrow she would start her journey. Yes, she was happy. And she vowed to be happy in the years ahead, each year a rosy promise to be woven into an immortal chaplet.

Defining Moments:
Losing her father
Losing her friend
Moving to Kanto

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Other Information
She is very mindful of dehydration and heat. She is also mildly susceptible to heat, fainting easier than most upon exposure.