Lord E V
Lord of the Eevees
Posts : 3440
Poké : 9495
Join date : 2014-07-12
Location : Nibiru
 |  Subject: Aiga the Shiny Honedge  Fri 04 May 2018, 8:32 pm | |
| » Name: Giratina Aiga "Sterling Sword" Girasol
» Sex: Female
» Species: #679 Honedge, Sword Pokémon
» Affiliation: Blade of Darkness Light
» Level: 5
» Energy: 19
» Ability: No Guard
» Moves:
- Tackle (start)
- Swords Dance (start)
- Fury Cutter (level 5)
» Natural Feats:
- No Guard: Honedge are naturally gifted in extremely aggressive and swift attack patterns that make their strikes difficult to dodge but also leave them defenseless. Unfortunately, Aiga is virtually incapable of moving on her own, so she can't exactly do this like a normal honedge.
- Spirit: A honedge can be born when a departed spirit inhabits a sword, and this is the case with Aiga.
- Soul Sapping: A honedge can wrap the limb-like blue cloth on its hilt around someone to drain their life force.
» Relatives:
Mother: Testra Girasol (NPC, leafeon)
Father: Mauvael Girasol (NPC, lycanroc-midnight)
Brother: Valia Girasol (NPC, eevee)
» Personality: On the surface, Aiga's a prissy, self-entitled, condescending brat. She openly insults others and speaks very highly of herself, acting as if dominance is her birthright. She desires to be wielded by a "true hero" and can be very judgmental and critical of anyone who tries to touch her, let alone use her in a fight; at that, she demands to be respected and practically pampered despite how poorly she treats others. Put simply, this attitude is a front, a defense against her own emotions and nothing more. She strives to appear as some special, noble, holy artifact because she feels she is the opposite by the very nature of her existence. In her attempts to compensate for the dread of her past and fear for her future, she often fails to stop and think about the things she says and does.
Due to seclusion from society in her early life, she has trouble understanding those who are "different" and is prone to discrimination. She spent a long time with everyone around her being motivated to act a certain way and do as they were told, and she believes it is correct to actively suppress anything she deems wrong with herself, so she has virtually no concept of why she should be sensitive to the quirks and issues of others. She's likely to question and pester someone to learn more about any part of them she finds odd, and with the lack of verbal restraint she often exhibits, there's a good chance of her blatantly insulting them for being "wrong" or "stupid." She's young, alone, confused and emotionally volatile, so it's safe to expect her to offend and annoy others.
Beyond the facade of greatness and exaggerated self-worth, and past the poor social skills and inability to empathize with others, is someone who is actually very compassionate, valuing "good" above all else. She may act like a spoiled brat who thinks the world revolves around her, but she has a strong sense of morality and cares very deeply about helping others. It isn't that she wants to offend those around her or thinks she's better than them; she simply has no idea how to cope with her feelings, nor how to act in the real world. She has no experience with being accepted for who she is or having to do the same with others. With her entire life before becoming a literal sword spent being sheltered from the world and deprived of any meaningful social interaction, she has been left to learn how to function on her own, resulting in trouble forming bonds with others due to lack of experience and an ever-present sense of insecurity and self-doubt. She can be clingy, possessive and mean, but it all stems from fear.
But, if one can get her to open up and relax, they may be pleasantly surprised by what's below the surface. Aiga is actually very talkative and supportive once she comes to understand someone, and she is loyal to a fault. She is brave and bold, not afraid to speak her mind, and entirely willing to support her friends when it comes down to it. She may not often give thanks or praise, but she truly appreciates any kind gestures she's given. She hates seeing someone pushed to do something they don't want to, and she will eagerly persuade her wielder to step in and intervene if she sees someone being mistreated. She may not always act it, but she is very kind at heart.
» Likes:
Attention: There's a reason Aiga tries to look "special." She wants to give off the appearance of a hero - or rather, a heroic weapon - and be treated as such. Having others play into her fantasy is what she strives for.
Being Cleaned: In her time as a living creature she was a very cleanly, proper eevee. She's well aware of the fact that she is now a sword, but she still can't stand to be dirtied. She especially hates getting blood on her, but this is because it reminds her of her last moments "alive."
Heroics: Aiga is enamored with the idea of heroism and selfless acts. She reaches for ways to deny her black past and loves to see reminders that the whole world isn't as bad as her family. She may not show it, but getting to be the hero or even seeing someone else step up warms her heart. She may not fully understand what it means to be a true hero, but she wants to be one all the same.
Companionship: Despite seeming shallow on the surface, she is actually very lonely and troubled, and she deeply wishes for close bonds with others. She lived a childhood emotionally detached from those around her, and with the added stress of her current state, she deperately needs someone around to comfort her and make her feel less alone at all times.
Being Involved: Aiga's used to being able to do things on her own, so being unable to do the things she used to enjoy hurts. She likes when others find a way to include her in things like games, even if it isn't in a role she would have traditionally preferred.
Her Surname: Despite hating her "parents," she actually values her last name. They refused to let her bear it in an attempt to strip her of any personal identity, so she now wears it to spite them and remind herself that she is not just a tool. She she isn't very open about sharing this name with others, but she considers it her own.
» Dislikes:
The Ground: She's too special to simply be left on the ground like some normal sword. She views being placed on the ground as a great and unacceptable offense.
Fighting: It isn't that she dislikes fighting, but rather, she hates having to rely on someone else to do the fighting. She may be weak, but she received very strict training from her family and knows her way around a fight quite well, so to watch someone else fumble around using her as a weapon is infuriating.
Training: She may not be particularly strong, but, given she spent a long time being groomed to be a warrior, she's already fairly competent. She dislikes having to train and views it as an insult, especially since she's supposed to be the weapon and thus is liable to blame any shortcomings in a fight on her partner.
Bad Owners: She wants to look good, and being used by some pathetic idiot isn't the way to do that. She can become easily flustered if her wielder slips up or does something she disagrees with. She also expects to be taken proper care of like the "holy artifact" she is, which entails being regularly cleaned and treated with care.
Giratina: It should be self-explanatory why she hates this idol of evil. She was born into a miserable life in a cult worshipping the creature, and her purpose in life was to become an extension of its will, or what the cult thought that was.
Evil and Injustice: Despite how insufferable, bratty and full of herself she can act, she is truly good at heart and has a deep hatred for those who could be called villains. She hates seeing others mistreated, and one part of her outward personality that isn't a facade is that she wants to be a hero and help others.
Curses/Bad Omens: Given her upbringing, Aiga is superstitious and fears things presented as mystical and negative in nature. She's very childlike and a bit gullible, so it's quite easy to scare her with such things.
Filth: It's more a repulsion than anything else. She was never a tomboy, so getting dirty isn't something she's fond of or used to; even as a sword, she wants to be kept clean and feels uncomfortable if she is dirtied. She especially hates being tainted with blood, though there are deeper psychological reasons for this. Her last moments truly alive were spent in a pool of her own blood, and it was truly traumatic. However, her feelings in the moment manifested as disgust; she felt impure, and blood reminds her of this impurity. Considering she's a sword, it can be a serious problem.
» History:
- Edge ahead; don't read if you're weaksauce:
As an eevee with an unusual silvery appearance born into a family harboring... questionable beliefs, "Giratina" was told from a young age that she was special. However, she wasn't "special" in any way she wanted. Her parents were members of a cult that worshipped Giratina and partook in dark practices, and she was chosen for a very prestigious honor among them: she was believed to be the "Will of Giratina," and after coming of age, she was to take part in a ritual in which a soul would be transferred to a weapon, to empower it so that it would be used by her to fight for the beliefs of the collective and serve the Dark Lord. She was even named after the being and deprived of her family's surname to make clear what her purpose was, and that she was not permitted a life and will of her own. She was treated practically like royalty due to the import she was viewed with, but this didn't help ease the dread that her daily life brought upon her. Being a child with a strong moral compass, she didn't want to be a tool for heinous acts, and more importantly, there was a certain requirement that she wasn't comfortable with: someone would have to leave their body behind, which effectively meant dying, and quite literally if the ritual happened to fail.
Aside from having to live with the constant reminder that she was to be an extension of the will of a cult, her life still wasn't particularly good. Her mother and father, Testra and Mauvael Girasol respectively, were cold and distant. While they constantly complimented and reassured her, it all seemed so hollow, like a boss to a coworker rather than a parent to a child. They viewed raising her as their duty to a warped cult rather than their duty as parents, and on an emotional level they felt very little toward her; pride, perhaps, but not love. She knew this. The rest of the group treated her similarly, with hollow, meaningless respect and nothing more. No one cared who she was hor how she felt, not really. All they wanted was to groom their warrior-to-be, to make sure the child served the purpose they envisioned for her. She could get nigh anything she wanted through little more than request, but the only thing she truly longed for was to have someone care about her.
She was granted a deeply coveted solace when her parents bore another child: Valia. Given a brother who came into the world after her, she finally had someone who could see her as a living being and not just the embodiment of a concept. She clung desperately to him and the two grew close over time, aided by how emotionally distant others were. "Giratina" made sure the life of the cult couldn't brainwash her dear brother into being like the rest of them. It was he who made her feel truly loved for the first time, and in return she protected his innocence with all she had. She tried her best to keep from him the truth of her reason for existing, but inevitably, he grew curious with time. He would ask why she seemed to be treated so much "better" than everyone else, and eventually, he learned the significance of her name. She was forced to explain to him the thing she was named after... and why. It brought her to tears; from her perspective, she was ruining her image in the only eyes she cared about. To her surprise and relief, he wasn't repulsed by the revelation that his sister was a monster in the making; rather, he hugged her and pleaded for her to stop crying. He decided her name would be something else, and together they picked out "Aiga."
This renaming was a secret between the two siblings, but for the first time, Aiga felt like she had an identity of her own. There was a period of time following this where she was happy despite the circumstances of her life... but as if fate itself was against her, it was stripped away. It was no secret how close she was with her brother, and this emotional connection was seen as a weakness, leading her parents to a decision: the younger of the two siblings would be the blade. Aiga was told, of course, and she was mortified. Not only did this mean her brother would die, but the ritual called for the wielder to be the one to "make" their weapon. A period of time followed in which she tried simply to keep him at her side, as if she could somehow protect him from the fate with which he had been branded. She thought that perhaps it wouldn't play out, that her parents were lying to scare her or as some form of emotional trial. But, with time, it became clear how deadly serious they were. Seeing that their decision had seemingly only brought the two children closer together, they reminded their daughter of what the future had in store, only to have her lash out in a screaming fit.
For the first time, Aiga directly opposed her parents, but this had an unintended effect and led them to threaten moving the date of the ritual up. This immediately snuffed out her rebellion, and instead she took to pleading, offering herself up as the weapon in her brother's place. Her parents were unmoved by her pleads. Defeated, she lost all will to fight the life laid out for her and fell into a deep depression. The only time she ever smiled, laughed or emoted in any way was around Valia, and that was mostly to stop him from worrying and asking questions. She didn't tell him what was planned for him; she didn't know how and just didn't want to. Her only desire was to make him as happy as she could for as long as she could while she still had time, to repay him for making her life bearable. She didn't see what good telling him would do since there was nothing either of them could do to change it. Not even fleeing was an option since two weak, inexperienced children would be found; and if they weren't, their chances of survival on their own were slim.
When the day finally came, Aiga didn't know whether she had done the right thing in withholding everything from her dear brother. He knew about the ritual and how it worked, but no one told him about his role until it was time to fulfill it. Forced into the woods at night and surrounded by a circle of candles, he was ordered to sit and left alone and confused until his sister was brought in. With only their parents present and a sword stuck into the ground behind him, the smart boy was able to piece together what was happening. Aiga had gone over his possible reactions in her head for so long, but what she saw was nothing she had thought of, and that terrified her. His face was haunting; a blank stare followed her as she walked shamefully toward the center of the room. He was in shock. Aiga had been given plenty of time to come to accept the reality of the situation, so of course her little brother wouldn't know how to feel like she did. Before her parents could force her to continue, she made a simple request of them to allow her a moment to speak with the one she considered to be her only true family. They agreed.
There was a moment that felt like an eternity where the two simply stared at each other with Aiga having no clue what to say. Valia was actually the one to break the silence, and his words cut through what little composure she had, bringing tears to her eyes. "Please don't," he said, wavering voice betraying the lack of emotion on his face. All Aiga could think to respond with was "I'm sorry." It was at this point that Valia finally started crying along with her, sobbing loudly. Aiga wanted to tell him something else, to save him, to simply choose not to shove a knife through him... but she couldn't. It she didn't do it, someone else would, and if she tried to refuse to take part in this grand plan at all... then someone else would surely take her place. Would her brother then be discarded, or would he simply be made the weapon of someone else who treat him as such? The best way to "help" him seemed to be... to just do what she was told.
"They'll do it if I don't, and I don't know what they'll do with us then," she spoke, trying all the while to think of some way to escape this. If she tried to take him and run, they wouldn't make it far. She wasn't allowed to offer herself up instead, as she had already been told. She tried to look strong in the hopes that it would somehow soothe her brother, but her sobs were quickly growing as loud and rapid as his. Reaching for anything she could find to make him feel better, she started up speaking in an almost frantic manner. "But it'll be okay. I'll make it as quick as I can, and then I'll be with you forever; I'll never let anything happen to you again; I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. It'll be just like going to sleep and then you'll wake up and we'll be together again and I'll-"
She was practically screaming before a shout from her mother stopped her. "That's enough!," the leafeon said. She fell totally silent for a few long seconds before completely breaking down and bawling. Her brother practically jumped against her and buried his head into her chest, knocking her down to a sitting position. Before she knew it, the dark shadow of her father loomed over her, a dagger in his outstretched hand. Valia almost fell forward when she stepped away from him to bite onto the hilt of the dagger. He stared in horror and disbelief, and she could empathize. "Just close your eyes," she muttered through the dagger gripped in her mouth, and he did just that. She froze up and her breaths grew rapid; her body wouldn't move while her lungs betrayed her and overworked themselves until her mind began to cloud with a lightheaded feeling.
"Do it," the cold voice of her mother pierced the veil. Her mouth fell open and the dagger fell to the ground before she whipped around to the side. "No! Pick someone else!" she yelled in a sudden burst of bravery, tears still streaming down her face.
The leafeon responded with a bitter glare, "Know your place. You will do as you're told, little Giratina, or there will be-"
"SHUT UP!" Aiga screamed at the top of her lungs in an odd mix of pent-up desperation and rage. "My name's Aiga, and you won't do anything to either of us!! I'll do nothing you say if you hurt my brother; if you want me to be your puppet, PICK SOMEONE ELS- hk..."
All of a sudden her voice was gone. The burning in her throat made her wonder if she had pushed her vocal cords too far, but a strange tingling sensation brought her gaze down to her chest. She didn't feel the pain until she laid eyes on the dagger and the blood. The blade was so thin, but it hurt in such an indescribable way. The red quickly soaked through the left side of her ruff from its point of origin and began polluting its way through her fur. She turned to see her brother shivering and stumbling away, struggling to breathe almost as much as she was. "I for... gih..." All she could think about was making sure he knew she forgave him. She wanted to tell him she was sorry, too, but the feeling of something in her lungs forced her to stop and cough it up. A metallic taste filled her mouth. Another shallow breath and she collapsed.
Everything suddenly sounded muffled, but she could make out bits and pieces of Valia begging their parents to spare him, saying he had finished the ritual and he would be the vessel and obey. She didn't blame him for trying to save himself, but she knew it wouldn't work. She could year the voices of her vile excuses for parents yelling, but she couldn't understand what they were saying. She felt so tired; still, she kept her weary eyes open and locked on her brother until he turned and bolted away. She felt so weak, so tired, so ready to give up... until the blurry form of her father towering over her suddenly burst into motion all at once. A rush of energy and desire possessed her as she tore herself off the ground and threw herself in front of his legs, tripping him over her body. Aiga forced herself to move once more despite the pain, stumbling forth toward the leafeon who was moving to pursue her brother as well. Her jaws snapped shut around her mother's hind leg as she collapsed right next to her; her body went limp again, but with sheer force of will driving her, she bit down as hard as she could.
Aiga wasn't able to hold on for long before being kicked off, but she had bought enough time for Valia to get away. She could feel herself being picked up by the heavy hands of her father, and she opened her eyes to meet his as he held her in front of him with a look of rage. Covered in a disgusting mix of dirt and her own blood, she felt worthless, hopeless, tainted. She didn't matter at this point, and she doubted she had ever mattered in the first place, and in this revelation, her horrid parents could do nothing to hurt her. The lycanroc shook her and screamed insults she could barely understand, but she just smiled. No matter how much it hurt, she reveled in his struggle. They couldn't keep her here to torment her any longer, and this dirty feeling would be gone soon. With nothing left to lose, now seemed like a good time to speak her mind.
She could feel the dagger shredding something inside her as she willed herself to take one last breath. She chose her words carefully and gurgled them out as clearly as she could through the fluid in her throat: "I hate you both so much." Even though everything hurt, she still couldn't help but smile. Through the anger in her father's eyes, she could see defeat. If this was the last thing she would see, she was happy... and now this nightmare would finally end. She was released and fell like a ragdoll, but the life escaped her body before she could feel the surge of pain from hitting the ground.
When she woke, she was a being carried by some stranger, hoisted over his shoulder. She thought about going back to sleep until she remembered her brother. "W-where am I?" she asked. She could feel the stranger stop before slowly lifting her and holding her up in front of him. Staring into his face, she could see he was a machoke.
"Was that... you?" he answered her question with another question, and she nodded... or at least, she thought she did. "Yes," she spoke upon realizing he still seemed lost. After an initial silence, he gave his next words; they confused her, but they would define her.
"What kinda sword talks?"
» Other: She can't really... move much. She's very inexperienced in the art of BEING A SWORD and thus needs to be carried by someone at all times to effectively get around or do much of anything at all. She can't float or balance like a normal honedge and can barely move the cloth appendage attached to her. Also, she's shiny; the blade she inhabited was originally a normal silver color, but it turned blood-red in the process of becoming her new body.
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