- other images:
Image by Kaze
| Thief the Quilava The Silent Ninja | |
|---|---|
| Theme | The Edge - FFXIV Ninja Theme |
| Text Color | c77826 - Goldochre |
| Item | Quick Claw and a long red scarf |
| Biological Sex | Female |
| Gender Identity | Cisfemale - She/Her |
| Age | Adolescent - about 13 |
| Species | 157 Quilava, The Volcano Pokemon - Fire Type |
| Height | 2’11” |
| Weight | 41.9 lbs |
| Pokédex Entry | Pokemon Omega Ruby:: Quilava keeps its foes at bay with the intensity of its flames and gusts of superheated air. This Pokémon applies its outstanding nimbleness to dodge attacks even while scorching the foes with flames. |
| Level | 19 |
| Ability | Blaze - Increases the power of fire type moves when the user is low on HP. |
| Nature | Careful |
| Characteristic | Often Lost in Thought |
| Moves | - Ember (Level Up) - Toxic (TM) - Quick Attack (Level Up) - Smokescreen (Level Up) |
| Quote | "................?" |
| History | ”We shouldn’t be here!” The wild Cyndaquil protested shrilly. Her two brothers ignored her and continued up the rough dirt path to the stunted Leppa tree, forcing their sister into a run to catch up with them. “I guess we’re just going to have to eat all the delicious berries ourselves then,” one of her brothers replies snidely. Both the male Cyndaquil’s braced their stubby legs against the ancient tree trunk and pushed. The wood creaked ominously as the movement causes the fruit laden branches above to wave. The female Cyndaquil looked down nervously. All that separated them from the rushing, spitting froth of the ice-cold wild river was the worn grey stone that was held in place by the tree's twisting roots. “Mom said-“ She mutters in one last attempt to get her brothers to see reason. “Mom’s not here,” Her other brother cuts her off, “Are you going to help push or not?” A stone tumbled down the cliff and vanished in the foam. “N-no.” The female Cyndaquil stutters, taking a few nervous steps backwards. “I’m going to go tell Mom, I’m-” As she takes another nervous step backwards the loose grey shale slips under her clawed foot and the ground crumbles away underneath her. With a final piercing shriek of terror the tiny fire type falls into the foaming rapids below. “Help me!” She screams loudly as the flames on her back are instantly snuffed out. Desperately she fights against the powerful current to refill her lungs with air for another scream before the violent current drags her head under. The Cyndaquil is completely blinded by the whirling white water and the pressure of the current is so strong it pins her limbs to her sides and stops her from swimming back to the surface. The rolling river slams her harshly against the gravelly river bed and the larger protruding rocks, bruising her badly. The claw of her right forepaw catches between some rocks for a split second before the current pulls her away and brutally wrenches the claw from her hand. The spiral of red blood is washed away to nothing as soon as it can ooze from her wound. Cold… Struggling futilely as river bed and sky exchange places and spiral around her the icy water drove fangs of bitter cold into the Cyndaquil’s teal fur. Her lungs burned with her swallowed screams as she fought desperately for air. Smash! Another boulder hits her side and sends her spinning. Smash, smash, smash! Like a living billiards ball the tiny Fire Type is bounced downstream. So…cold… Smash! A tree branch catches her stomach, bubbles of air flying from her mouth that are immediately swallowed by the rapids. By instinct she draws in a breath to scream, only to allow water to flood in her open mouth and down her throat, chilling her inside as well as out. Unable to breath, and large fuzzy patches of blackness becoming the only constant thing in the whirling landscape, the Cyndaquil runs out of strength to fight the water’s pull. The next stone she collides with she hits head on and her head snaps to the side. She falls unconscious immediately and never even feels the waterfall. ..Cold......... Warm… The Cyndaquil cracks open one bruised eye a fraction. In front of her was the warmth of crackling flames. ‘Mother...' she thought blearily and closed her eye again. “You took quite a drubbing there girl…” A voice said; a strange voice that was definitely not her mothers. The Cyndaquil forced her eye to open wider. The flames were not the comforting warmth of a Typhlosion’s collar; they were weaker and flickered over a pile of dry wood. Every inch of the Cyndaquil’s body felt bruised to a pulp and she didn’t have the strength to turn her head to see the speaker. Warm hands gripped the fur under her neck and carefully lifted her head while shoving something under her snout. “Come on girl, drink some of this.” The fire type didn't respond. When the voice realized the Cyndaquil couldn’t move well enough to drink by herself its fingers carefully pried open her jaws (taking care to avoid the tender red abyss where some of her teeth had been knocked out) and tipped a bit of warmed berry juice down her throat. Wincing with pain the Cyndaquil swallowed, the healing liquid driving the river’s chill from her insides, and tried to call for her mother. As he opened her mouth she tried to make a sound but her throat tensed up and closed. No matter what she was trying to say the Cyndaquil could not make so much as a squeak for some deep-seated fear it would allow the cold water back into her body. Instead the Cyndaquil remained quiet and slept. Her rescuer was a Ninja Pokemon trainer, an Iga Nin, who had seen her cream fur at the foot of the waterfall caught in the branches of a fallen tree. Feeling a flicker of life in the scrap of fur he had taken her back home with him and pushed the water from her body. He used up all his potions on repairing her cuts and bruises, and replaced her torn away claw with one of metal. Still, long after her bruises had healed, the Cyndaquil was not able to voice a single sound to him in return. The Ninja instead filled the silence between them with his words; words of his village, of his mission and of the other Pokemon he had left behind. The Cyndaquil ate up these stories with awe and interest. He named her Thief for the way she always ate her food (as she would hold it tight in the corner as if she had stolen it) and the way she constantly 'stole' the scarf around his neck and snuggled up in it. Slowly the Cyndaquil lost hope of finding her family again; when she had finally healed enough to go outside she could not see the twisted Leppa tree at all, nor the shale path and cliffside. Never the less she was well looked after and became well instructed in the arts of battle, learning skills and tricks she never would have learned in the wild and, to her surprise, found herself evolving. Her trainer was so proud. Cold, so cold… They came during the night while Thief and her master slept by that very same river. A mother Typhlosion and her two Cyndaquil sons with blank red eyes and no flicker of flame playing along their backs, still dripping wet from the icy cold water and battered from being swept downstream. “Come back…” Instantly Thief’s eyes flickered open at the sound of her mother’s voice. “Come back to us…” Urgently the Quilava nuzzled at her slumbering trainer. Thinking the sound nothing more than the regular calls of wild pokemon the Ninja merely rolled over and slept on. Her attempts to scream out in warning nearly choking her, the panicked Quilava sunk her sharp teeth into her trainers arm. With a yelp he finally awoke to see the torn bloated bodies of the Typhlosion and her young advancing clumsily towards him. “Come back.” The mother told her daughter but her voice had no trace of love left in it. It was blank and ethereal. “Be one of us.” One of her brothers says equally eerily. Fearfully Thief’s silver eyes are drawn to the gaping gap where one of her brother's legs had once been. The river has wrenched it clean off, but he gave no indication of noticing. She fires up her back flames brightly as her trainer stands. “Come back,” The Typhlosion lumbers forwards, one massive paw raised for a crushing blow and Thief quickly attacks before it can hit. There was still a hint of the warm charcoal scent of her mother beneath the stink of decay... The Typhlosion stumbles backwards and her paw sweeps around to firmly hit the Quilava is away. Thief's paws scrabble for a grip as she rolls across the ground, and the panic increases as she's thrown back into the freezing cold river. Every one of her nightmares surface at once as the fire type once again finds herself struggling against the swift current dragging her away from her trainer. The water drags her under and the Quilava lets it, pushing off the rocky riverbed to surface and gasp in air, her paws casting around for something to grab hold of before the current can drag her under again. By the time her shining metallic claw manages to catch against a boulder and she can drag herself back onto land her familiar forest had been left long behind. The sun was starting to rise but nothing looked familiar, no path or landmark no matter how far in the distance she looked.. Drying out the long red scarf on her back flame Thief swiftly began her long journey back up the mountain to find her trainer, vowing not to stop until she found him again. |
| Bulbapedia | "Quilava is a slim quadruped Pokémon. The top half of Quilava's body is blue, while the lower half is cream. Its ears are triangular with red insides, and it possesses a rounded nose and red eyes. It has five red spots on its body that can project flames: two in a somewhat exclamation-mark shape on its forehead and three lined up horizontally on its rear. The fire coming from its head and rear can be launched as a flame attack. It also uses gusts of superheated air as a battle technique. Quilava's fur is non-flammable, so it can withstand flame attacks." |
| Appearance | Thief is a young Pokemon, spry with quick feet and bounding muscles. Her silver eyes gleam with youth, while her pelt is shiny with good health. Her long body shows no scars or blemishes aside from some missing teeth from her rocky tumble. That same event tore out one of her claws, but it has since been replaced with a sturdy Quick Claw. Her most noticeable feature would be her accessory; a long scarf that once belonged to her trainer. Not intended for someone her size its easily two and a half times her body length or longer, with the bulk of the material being wrapped around her neck and mouth. The fabric is light enough to be lifted by the hot air formed by her back flame, and it billows dramatically whenever this happens. She keeps her flames extinguished most of the time unless she is preparing for battle or angered, as it helps her remain stealthy. Though quiet, this mute girl still wishes to communicate and has taken to being overly dramatic with her expressions and hand motions. |
| Accent | None; can not speak. Having not used her voice in some time it would be no more than a hoarse whisper. Instead, she uses a wide variety of hand motions and other gestures. |
| Religion | Legendary Beasts |
| Motivation | Desperately searching for her trainer. |
| Personality |
|
| Team notes | With lack of verbal communications some liberties may need to be taken, whether its in OoC notes or creative decisions. |
| User Notes | - Has a reoccurring nightmare where a friend is drowning her by holding her head underwater. - Her scarf is inspired by the one worn by the main character of the Shinobi Videogames. - Her trainer belonged to one of the two most well known Ninja clans, the Iga. - Is afraid of water and getting wet. Although she can swim she loathes doing so. - Adopted from Kaze, original profile. Last Post on the Shadow Team. |
| Development Notes | Build up some confidence and friendships before possibly going through more trauma to regain her speech. |
