|Text Color|| Lavender Field #754C78 |
|Age||Adult (human 26)|
|Species||#235 Smeargle The painter pokemon|
|Pokédex Entry||"A Smeargle marks its territory using a fluid that leaks out from the tip of its tail. About 5,000 different marks left by this Pokémon have been found."- Emerald Pokedex|
|Ability||Own Tempo- Prevents confusion|
|Characteristic||Often lost in thought|
|Moves|| - Foresight (sketched from Noctowl)|
- Detect (sketched from Zangoose)
|History|| It was dark, so dark but it was warm and comforting.|
Only one Smeargle pup remained with its mother, still struggling to open its eyes. The lines it dabbed with its tail, desperate for approval, were crooked and broken unlike the other smooth flawless markings daubed around the edge of the nest. It curled up in the wilting grasses, ready to die for being unable to create beauty. Of his brother and sisters, long since slain or fled he found no sign. At last his eyes opened but everything remained as dark. The eyes were pure white. He would never see his art.
His mother nuzzled him tenderly and pulled him onto his feet.
"There were other kinds of beauty." She had said.
He had left to find it, not knowing the true horrors of the world he was blind too.
He was a wanderer, struggling to see the world around him as he travelled from region to region, hiding whenever he smelt the stink of the strange rotting ones. He painted his art in the smooth purple lines of the marks on his tail. He found rings of brass and threaded them into his ears. He fought and he was lucky in battle. The shattered lines of his paintings became clearer, sharper until they almost formed a picture. He drew attacks from others, attacks to try and mimic sight but nothing worked. He drew the purple lines across the places he had been, the opponents he had fought that had failed to fulfill his dreams and every night prayed to the unseen sky to survive for long enough to see the world he lived in
He did not know where he wandered, that the town he walked into was the same lavender as his tail. The Cacturne that had made its home among the gravestones he had come to pay tribute to had attacked him in the defense of its territory and the smeargle had fled its hot sand smell. There he had met other living, willing at least to put up with him and protect him. He had gone with them; the cheerful flaffy, the powerful dragonite, the sad little cubone and the kind marowack as they fled constantly into the everpresent dark from the ravenous undead.
He had wanted to keep them safe.
He drew a picture for her, for the kind marowack that had been so nice to him in elegant swirls of purple emotion. It had been left behind when the undead attacked and forced them into the rocky dank tunnels.
With it went his hopes as he was forced to flee again but this time he had friends at his side...
|Appearance||A rather tall smeargle that stands faintly bent over. In one long floppy ear are two brass rings made of bent metal, they have been handmade and picked up by the smeargle. His back is unmarked by a paw print due to normal smeargles finding him creepy. He has been born completely blind and his eyes appear to lack pupils. The color daubing his tail is lavender purple, something that causes others to mistake him for infected at times. He normally keeps his head raised in the direction of the prevailing wind to pick up scents and keeps his tail clutched in his paws unless he is walking, in which case it is held behind him. The tail tip will often twitch when he is thinking. As he is blind he walks with his paws held out in front of him to feel his way by a mixture of smell and touch. While he is used to this movement and is capable of fleeing very quickly he often plays up his weakness to see if there are undead waiting to attack him and to play on the sympathies of living.|
|Personality||His blindness makes him rather skittish due to not being able to satisfactorily detect if there are any undead in an area and he is truely blinded by strong scents or places with lots of water. He thinks a lot but doesn't often talk outloud for fear of offending others. He is very suspicious of others but once someone is counted as a friend he will put aside his doubts. As he knows no attack moves he mainly just flees from battles, although he is thinking of remedying this situation. Having no memory of a life before the infection cketch is none the less an optomist solely because pesimism kills you faster. He is awkward around his emotions and likely to agree with others.|
Understandibly high strung.
|User Notes|| Cketch is completely blind and "sees" using a mixture of smell and feel resulting is a grainy monochrome view of the world, unreliable in battle. By the 'pooling' of scents made by something waiting in a certain area for a long time he can hazard a guess at size. Using Foresight allows for a better identification.|
Cketch lacks a paw print mark on his back as a result of being a nomad and therefore not near other Smeargles.
The two brass earrings in his ear have no special significance but were hand crafted. They have no effect on any of his stats.
Cketch tries to paint things with his tail but his blindness means he cannot actually see what he is making, producing shattered, disjointed images.
He likes others company and painting pokemon.
Cketch is slower then other pokemon in identifying infected although he can tell them by smell. Because of this he will not approach unknown pokemon, regardless of standing unless they give some sort of sign they can be trusted.
Cketch's paintings are often quite disturbing to view as they are abstract at best.
Has a crush on Lulu’s Marowack Mother Therese
His tail color is the exact inverse of a normal smeargles.
His pupils are the same color as the rest of his eyes, making them pretty much invisible.
Somewhat of a gypsy.
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Cketch the Smeargle