Aloia, Kriemhild M [WIP]

[Kriemhild Aloia]

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[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500, bTable]	Kriemhild Maeve Aloia "..."
[atrb=style, vertical-align: top] PARTNERS Misdrevious Moves: Psywave Hex Astonish Confuse Ray REPLACE WITH POKÉMON'S NICKNAME Moves: UP TO 4 MOVES REPLACE WITH POKÉMON'S NICKNAME Moves: UP TO 4 MOVES REPLACE WITH POKÉMON'S NICKNAME Moves: UP TO 4 MOVES REPLACE WITH POKÉMON'S NICKNAME Moves: UP TO 4 MOVES REPLACE WITH POKÉMON'S NICKNAME Moves: UP TO 4 MOVES pokémon PC something	FULL NAME: Kriemhild Maeve Aloia NICKNAMES: Hilde, Maeve, Kreema GENDER: Female AGE: 22 BIRTHDAY: 17 June RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single SEXUALITY: Unknown TRIBE: Utisene TITLE: Hunter LIKES: light background noise running knowing where exits/entrances are, having multiples of these stretching the limits ruins DISLIKES: people in the way being forcibly restricted heavy noise pollution people in general undue assumptions APPEARANCE SHE WEARS SHORT SKIRTS I WEAR TEE SHIRTS SHE'S CHEER CAPTAIN WHILE I'M CRAWLING RUINS PERSONALITY She is silent, in many ways. She does not talk, and moves like her ghost companion across the desert terrain--quickly and soundlessly, leaving as few traces as possible. She is a mute. A true mute, that is; her hearing is perfectly untouched, perhaps even sharpened, but her voicebox refuses to even allow her to hum--as noises go, all she can make are coughs and sneezes. But that's okay. She's used to it--she was born that way, after all; if everyone around her wasn't so damn noisy, she wouldn't even know that there was something "wrong" with her. Which makes it too bad, really, that, unintentionally or not, people seem to back off from her, ever so slightly, as if her condition was contagious--and those are the polite ones. Maybe things would have been a little bit different. Still, that's okay, too. It's another thing that Kriemhild is very much used to, and if she could talk, she would gladly inform nearly one hundred percent of her tribe that she isn't all too fond of being around them either. It isn't that she hates them--nothing so personal as that. She just doesn't like people. It's why she became a hunter: children cannot stray from the village establishment and adults have to stay close to the children and watch out for them more times than not. So she provides what she can, doesn't complain, and spends almost all free time she is given away from the village. It's weird, because she likes the ruins around her tribe more than the actual tribe itself; she's the first to admit she has a little bit of a problem concerning ruin-crawling and hoarding away any and all artifacts or souvenirs she maybe find catching her eye. What may be a simple rock with squiggles on it to another tribe member is treasure for her, stolen away with nimble fingers and more nimble feet, stored away in a place only she and her companion can find. No doubt she has what could potentially be priceless artifacts in her possession, but getting them away from her would be a... challenge, to say the least. And more trouble than it's worth, in the end. Beyond the things that make her happy--ruins, her companion, running--Kriemhild is remarkably... well, dull. A cultivated look; around her peers and other tribemembers, she shuts down, facial expression and body language-wise, unless she is deliberately trying to communicate something. To her, it isn't worth the headache that would almost inevitably stem from any sort of misinterpretation of her actions, so she opts for an expression that is unmistakable: one that tells everyone around her go away. So far, it's worked out pretty well for her. And when she is alone (well, "alone"; her misdrevious rarely leaves her side, after all), she immediately begins to open up--she smiles, she opens her mouth in what could be laughter on any other being, spreads her arms out as if to embrace the setting sun and tilts her head up to the sky to feel the dying rays on her face. And of course she broods sometimes, letting her naturally cynical nature get the best of her, brown furrowing in distaste. When those times come along, she deals with it in two ways--by running an internal monologue or simply by waiting the spell out. (It always goes away, eventually.) It helps that she's flexible, both in mind and body (sometimes very difficult, stretchy, painful things have to happen in order for the full ruin-experience to occur, and concessions have had to be made)--although she hates to be cornered and prefers to deal with things on her terms and no one else's, Kriemhild isn't an idiot. She knows sound logic when she hears it, and will silently concede points she knows are lost. Speaking of silence (no pun intended), Kriemhild really isn't sure whether to be proud or ashamed of the fact that, potentially, she could be the biggest gossip in the Utisene tribe. The rare times she's in camp, she goes out of her way not to be noticed, stealthily creeping around to do her business before leaving, sometimes at very odd hours. Being invisible and having better-than-normal hearing makes for some, ah, uncomfortable (although sometimes they're hilarious) discoveries about her tribe, especially since they seem to be so damn loud sometimes. If she could scrub her mind of anything, it would be these things. HISTORY: The first, most obvious clue, was that she did not cry when she was born. In fact, it was initially thought that she was stillborn, her mother and father already beginning to weep at the thought, although glad, at least, that they already had two healthy children to dote on, so the loss would (perhaps) not be quite so keenly felt. Except as a child, she flailed weakly all the time, protesting this world of sight and sound and feeling, which was overwhelming even in the cozy, dark birthing room--so there was life, yes, just no sound. As more years passed, the worse it got; whenever she was hurt or needed attention, her little red mouth would open in a wail that had no wail to belly it, which meant that she could never be left alone before she learned how to walk; if her parents or any other adult were not around to watch her, how else would they know if she was hungry, or in need of help? They couldn't hear her--was she a cursed child? Did He of the Blackest Moon, the Lord of Nightmares, steal her voice for his own nefarious reasons? Or was it Giratina, The Banished One, He of the Mirrors and the Mists who was at fault? Needless to say, it didn't make for the healthiest childhood. It meant that, moreso than any other child, Kriemhild had to work for her independence, for her adulthood, had to prove again and again that she could survive unaided, that she didn't need anyone to hold her hand and walk her through the village, that she was not stupid or mad, and was more likely to survive out on her own than most of her other agemates, or half of the already existing adults themselves. Where to others becoming an adult was something near-guaranteed, a part of the natural progression of things, the only reason she is where she is is because of sheer tenacity, powered by an almost mindless, clamoring urge to escape. It made her seventeenth year earn a sweet place in her memories, a year she looks back upon with cherished fondness. Her nineteenth year is cherished, too, as being a hunter has granted her even more freedom in that regard as long as she continues to respect her duties, but there's something about the truly being free from the watchful eye of caretakers and knowing it, even if the "watchful" part was a lie and near the end they were practically shooing her out the door, part of a charade everyone knew about but pretended to be ignorant of. There was something about it being official, something about the fact that no one could take it away anymore. Although in the grand scheme of things, perhaps becoming an adult was not quite so necessary to her mental health; even before she became an adult and then a hunter, Kriemhild was already exploring the ruins whenever she could get away from her caretakers. It caused a panic the first few times, but gradually, everyone became used to the fact that being confined only made her more vindictive. Becoming an adult simply meant that she no longer had to slip by caretakers who, at that point, were only making a token effort to "watch" her. Meeting her misdrevious was an accident. Or maybe not--he was the one who found her, after all, crawling through the belly of a dungeon at the tender age of thirteen, rucksack trailing behind her, a part of her intensely glad that she did not mind enclosed spaces so much. At first, she was wary--ghost pokémon were more often mischievous than not, and she wondered what trick this one had to play on her. Possession? A trap? She could have turned back, but this was the quickest way to the entrance that was closest to the tribegrounds. Her rucksack was full on treasure but low on food, and while there she was used to going without every now and again, water can only be rationed for so long. She trudged on. The misdrevious disappeared a few minutes before she slipped back into the tent she was supposed to have occupied (two days ago, at least), expression innocent as can be, thinking that that was the last Kriemhild Aloia would see of that particular ghost pokémon. Except, of course, for the fact that he turned up again. And again. And again. It became something she was used to. She became used to seeing the big necklace out of the corner of her eye, the large head and the small body with yellow eyes that tracked her movements. She would have felt uncomfortable in his absence except there were no absences, and he had even managed to help her more than once--by now, she likely owes him her life. She named him Garroke in her head but could not voice these thoughts out loud for obvious reasons; it did not hinder their relationship. Training to be "proper and fighting" companions was a little difficult, based more on trial-and-error than anything else, but after nine years they have it pretty together. The fact that her misdrevious was already a fairly competent, independent fighter in his own right--he didn't need a human constantly telling him what to do. (Sometimes she thinks that was why he chose her--that maybe she's his human and she's been thinking about it all wrong, automatically thinking that he was her companion.) And she survives. She survives.
[cs=2] ORIGINAL ART as Kriemhild Aloia made by Veri for INDIGENOUS

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