» Name: Robin Pyralis
» Sex: Female
» Species: Alolan Vulpix, #037, the Fox Pokemon
» Affiliation: Unaffiliated
» Level: 5
» Energy: 16 (11 BE + 5)
» Ability: Snow Warning
» Moves:
- Hypnosis (Egg)
- Powder Snow (Level 1)
- Tail Whip (Level 1)
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» Natural Feats:
- Hi, Welcome to Chilly's: This pokemon's breath reaches –58 degree Fahrenheit, enabling it to freeze some objects.
- Ice Manipulation: Limited to creating small ice crystals. They have little use in combat, and are solely used to keep Robin at a healthy temperature in warm environments.
- Snow Warning: When she’s attacked or highly agitated, a hailstorm starts in Robin's vicinity.
» Relatives:
- Mora Pyralis (Mother, Stantler)
- Lune Pyralis (Father, Alolan Ninetales)
» Personality:
Robin is, to put it bluntly, an absolute pushover. She's somewhat chameleon-like in that she aims to adapt a persona that would best click with the people around her, nodding along to their opinions and decisions in sanguine harmony. She can be viewed as manipulative, in a certain light. Her end goal is simple: praise and affection, but failing that, simply having company will do just fine.
As would be implied by this behavior, she dons many different personas, each one specifically tailored to whoever's presence she might be in. She's a highly skilled actor, enough so that it's rare for her to be outed as being something other than her genuine self. Though, of course, there are ways - perhaps how she only echos her conversational partner's opinions is a red flag, to the more perceptive pokemon. She chimes in with questions and an interested tilt of her head, never saying much of her own until she's tested the waters and learned where they stand.
The fastest way for the charade to crack is when she's forced to speak with two people at once, dancing between them and backtracking on her own words. It's then that she's most likely to fracture, or get caught in a lie. When two different people compare their accounts of her, well, it won't be long until things start to add up. So what's the real Robin like, under the need to be praised and the desperate desire for company?
Well, even she's not exactly sure. The Vulpix has a poor sense of her own identity, and even she isn't certain where her moral lines are drawn. They're certainly flexible, but where her hard limits are, well... no one really knows, herself included. It would take a truly heinous act to spur an open rebellion from her, though it's more likely that, if she's pushed to the point where her moral compass would override her desire for company, she'll simply slink away and not be seen again. Non-violent crimes are not below her, and it isn’t the crime itself that deters her, so much as she would dislike being labelled an outlaw and hated by the world at large.
Conflict is not her strong suit in the slightest, emotional even less so than physical - she's literally run away from confrontation using her Hypnosis move a couple times in her life. When she does become overcome by emotion, she's most likely to isolate herself, raise havoc in private, and quietly dispose of those volatile, complicated, unlikable emotions where they can't be seen, can't do any damage.
Where they can't cause anyone to think less of her.
That's the real Robin, in part; repressed and volatile, taking out her negative emotions on objects instead of people, and showing back up with that demure smile, that slight tilt of her head, that perfectly planned out excuse. In truth, she doesn't care for her way of living, and it's less of a conscious decision than a reflex: A reflex to keep herself loved and safe from harm, to play the role of something perfect, that not even the most critical eye could find a flaw in. This can spin quite easily into a spiral of self-loathing; she knows she's manipulative, knows she's fake, knows that the real Robin is unlikable and harsh and spiteful.
So isn't it best that no one meets her, anyways?
» Likes:
Despite not being very in touch with her interests, Robin still has some preferences - she finds soft, pastel colours calming, giving her a bit of a fondness for Easter eggs. She enjoys painting them when the holiday rolls around, and it will usually draw some genuine excitement from her. She also enjoys certain flavors, with her favourites being vanilla and white chocolate. With those exceptions, her preferred foods range on the sour end.
She’s fond of gardening. She finds nurturing something and watching it grow over time to be rewarding.
Despite her hunger for companionship, in truth, she does like her solitude, at times. It's a welcome break from the pretenses and masquerades that she feels she isn't very likeable without.
She tends to take out her frustration in mystery dungeons, on the environment and wild pokemon in them. As it's mostly for stress relief, rather than a genuine challenge, she prefers dungeons where she's strong enough to curb-stomp anything that stands in her way. (Once she's strong enough to do so.) Being able to just cut loose and shout and freeze things to dust without worrying about the consequences, well, it's satisfying.
She tends to be somewhat drawn to ice types, or any pokemon that are immune to hail, seeing as her Snow Warning ability was part of what led to her isolation in her early life.
She craves praise like little else, to an unhealthy extent. It leaves her open to manipulation, and she may not cut ties even if she suspects she's being used, if said manipulator is kind enough to her. She goes to extreme lengths to make herself helpful, or simply useful; a trait which is open for abuse.
On a healthier note, she does have a budding interest in exploring. Treasure isn't of much interest to her, but gleaning new insights into the world gives her a strange sense of wonder, one she hasn't felt in a long while. It has the potential to grow into a healthier thing for her to strive after, in addition to - and, perhaps, someday, in replacement of - her need for validation.
» Dislikes:
Conflict. The physical type isn't pleasant, but arguments and emotional conflicts are much worse, to her, and it's not at all uncommon for her to try and literally escape the situation if such a thing pops up.
While she wouldn't dream of voicing any complaints, of course she doesn't like everyone. Brusque and especially honest pokemon tend to get on her nerves, stemming both from her aversion to any type of conflict, which such characters aren't usually afraid of sparking, and jealousy. Being so honest and upfront is something she wishes she was brave enough to do.
Her low opinion of herself is only fed by her constant manipulation, and the destruction she causes to cope with repressing most everything about herself. This reinforces, to her, that she simply isn't a good pokemon.
While she’s fine with rock type pokemon, being hit by certain items such as Gravelerocks, or certain rock type attacks such as Rock Throw, tend to bring back bad memories – sometimes with such severity that even her usual composure shatters. She has the same reaction to hunger pains.
» History:
Robin grew up in a peaceful little village, without much notable about it, or her. She was a very cheerful child, though prone to strong emotion, as most children are, and her joy could quite easily swing to intense sorrow or anger. When she was distressed, it tended to activate her Snow Warning ability, not to mention it always kicked in during playfights. Her village grew rather tired of such frequent storms, forcing them inside as hail rained down on a sunny springtime afternoon. Homes were damaged, and children came home with lumps and bruises from sudden hailstorms. One by one, her friends stopped coming to play with her, either by their own will or on the orders of their angry parents.
Robin was confused by this turn of events, and grew to be very lonely. To curb the hailstorms, her parents kept her inside, distracting their saddened daughter with books and games and toys. But it was too little, too late; the storms had wrecked havoc on the little village's agriculture, and they hadn't harvested enough food to survive the winter. They argued and bickered on how to handle this, and in the end, little Robin was sent among the patrols to hunt and gather food to keep the village fed, despite being far too young for such a thing.
Her own parents, while upset by this turn of events, couldn't deny there was a sense of justice in it. She had, after all, caused their food shortage, intentionally or not. Such a thing had to carry consequences.
It was only then that she truly became a black sheep. It was her who was blamed every time someone's mother or son had to go hungry; it was her who was sent to bed without dinner because there simply wasn't enough. Day by day, herd mentality had piled up until she wasn't simply disliked or isolated, but actively blamed for their suffering. And the worst part was that Robin herself couldn't truly defend herself against such accusations. They were, if not right, then not entirely wrong, and she was too young to be able to put the difference between such things in words.
And, well, that's when she learned that if she brought enough food home, if she went upstairs and never asked for more than she was given, if she ceased every complaint, if she was very, very quiet when she was not spoken to, if she played to her fellow villager’s egos...
... then things were better. Not good, of course; but the stones and insults thrown her way cooled to mild discontent, and isolation was better than the alternative.
They held a giant festival when spring finally broke, dancing and playing in the morning’s rays, the snow melting away under their feet. It may have been the warmest memory of young Robin’s life, had she not still been able to pick out the faces of the child who stole her scrap of meat, of the gang of teenagers who jeered and threw stones her way and the adults who hadn’t cared to stop them; of the elder who left her to die in the forest because she was a bad omen. All of them now smiling with such revelry as though nothing had ever been wrong.
As for Robin, she retreated to the woods whenever she was even the slightest bit discontent to make sure her hailstorms wouldn’t wreck havoc on the town again. She fawned and smiled and never said a discourteous word, making herself flawless as diamond and soft as silk. She was never liked, but the mistreatment stopped, and that was almost enough. She didn’t dare to chase after more.
It wasn’t until she has finally left her old village that the scars that winter left on her psyche truly began to come to light, manifesting as a ceaseless hunger for attention, for praise, or even just for company. She hasn’t yet begun healing from those events, in truth, and it’s uncertain as to whether she ever will.
» Other: You know the drill – first character here, so let me know if anything’s rocky or out of place, and I’ll fix it up as soon as I can.
Subject: Robin the Alolan Vulpix 
