Post by ZOM on Sept 28, 2011 16:48:43 GMT
MACKENZIE DANIEL LISTER
AGE// o16 ;; SEX// M
SPECIES// TYPE o2 Sawsbuck Pokemorph
AGE// o16 ;; SEX// M
SPECIES// TYPE o2 Sawsbuck Pokemorph
APPEARANCE //
Kenzie is the type of kid that makes folks go "awww"; from his wide, slightly buck-toothed smile and his big brown eyes, to the dusting of freckles over the bridge of his nose and his pointy, pixie-like nose, he's looks very boyish and cheerful. His skin is tan (a testament to how much time he spends outdoors under the sun), his hair is a short-cropped, spiky mess of mousy-brown, and his eyebrows are so expressive that it's nearly impossible to be oblivious to how he's feeling at any given moment. He has very slender features, from his angular cheekbones and pointy chin to his long, elegant neck and similarly slender fingers, seemingly meant for the use of an instrument -- though he doesn't have the patience to learn. He's small and skinny, but in the healthy way that growing boys with their quick metabolisms tend to have. He hasn't had many growth spurts yet, that's all. In nearly every way he appears like a young lad fond of sports and lazing around in the summertime and going for runs for no reason, and this is mostly correct.
The issue is that he's missing his legs from the mid-thigh down. What's left is a pair of scarred stumps, coated with the rather ghastly remains of a severe burn and usually clothed by a pair of shorts. He has a plethora of less severe burn scars on his arms and lower back, although his hands are thankfully scar-free. As if that weren't difficult enough to ignore, he has to get around in a wheelchair. It's a nice chair, black with forest-green wheels, reflectors on the spokes, and Pokémon painted all over the back, which perhaps implies that he is not ashamed of his disability or making any attempt to keep it inconspicuous. He has accepted and embraced it, and is making the best of what he has. Hanging off the back of his chair (and, regrettably, hiding the painted Pokémon design) is his backpack, which is meant specifically for wheelchair use.
He may have every reason to frown, but for the most part, that big grin sticks persistently on his face.
Before the incident which resulted in his lost legs, Mackenzie's most interesting physical features were related to his Pokemorphism. Sprouting from his head is a pair of antlers, still small but growing as he does; they, like the antlers of a Sawsbuck, grow leaves and flowers and change with the seasons. Kenzie loves his antlers, although they make his habit of playfully headbutting people rather dangerous, in case someone were to get an antler in their eye. On his back are several spots of different shapes and sizes, and these change color with the seasons as well. These spots are usually hidden behind his t-shirts and hoodies, the former decorated by logos and witty phrases and the latter solid-colored. He also has a fluffy brown deer tail, which tends to go unnoticed. Easier to spot are his long, pointed deer ears, each one covered in a thin layer of soft brown fur.
His outfits are rarely anything of note, and certainly are not formal or thought particularly hard about. He favors the aforementioned t-shirts, hoodies, and shorts, which are accompanied by thick, warm scarves in the winter and brown leather wheelchair gloves year-round. Kenzie cares little for fashion, and instead opts for what is practical and comfortable, if he even thinks that hard about it; usually he sticks to his gloves, which he needs, and some shorts, which he has no choice on, and then grabs whatever shirt looks good to him that particular day and pulls on a hoodie chosen at random to go with it.
PERSONALITY //
On the surface, Mackenzie is as cheerful and fun-loving as any teenage boy could hope to be. His grin spreads wide; he loves to laugh and joke and play; and he is rambunctious, constantly full of energy and wheeling himself around at top speed whenever possible. He is fond of playfully headbutting his friends (out of instinct thanks to his Pokémon genes, no doubt) and loves to seek out mischief and excitement, to race and to veer off-road regardless of his physical shortcomings. In great part due to his outgoing nature and love of new things, he makes friends easily and is quick to approach those he does not know in a social setting. He is smart but reckless, and pleasant but occasionally vulgar as he revels in the novelty of swearing and becoming more "adult." He tends to act first and think about it later -- though think he does.
There's an honesty in Kenzie's face. Everything he feels shines clear in his eyes, in the lines of his mouth and the creases of his forehead. This has a sort of dual effect: when he is happy his face lights up, and he is magnetic; when he is angry, on the other hand, it is almost frightening to look at him for all the fire burning in his eyes. He is a terrible liar, and he knows it, and that is why he tries to bottle up the anger and negative emotions he feels instead of allowing it to surface where it will be visible to everyone.
Despite appearances, he does have a lot of negativity in him. He has been through a lot, and this has left him scarred both physically and emotionally. He is highly sensitive, and insults or ignorant comments upset him deeply -- but instead of getting visibly sad or insecure or desperately frustrated, he channels his emotions into rage. His anger issues can result in violence, or in quiet seething that gets vented in the form of a meltdown once Kenzie is alone. This is not tremendously common, however. His time away from other people is usually spent in a calm, melancholy, introspective state the likes of which even his friends are unlikely to see; his family and very best friend know that this side of him exists, and they know why it does as well, but Mackenzie tries his best to keep it concealed around most folks. He would rather not seem weak or "lame" or "like a drag" to his friends. This only makes his issues worse.
Insecurities plague him just as much as with any other teen, and even more so because of his emotional and physical flaws. He typically acts as though his disability doesn't bother him, and copes rather well with the serious lifestyle change it necessitates, but it still causes him to worry about his future, about his ability to do certain things, and about his chances of eventually finding a significant other. On top of this, the typical confusion that comes with growing up and going through puberty has hit him hard. He has to wonder about such touchy, difficult subjects as sexuality, personal identity, and aspirations. He has to confront his peers, who may judge or avoid him based on his appearance. Most of all, he has to confront himself and become mature as time passes on. He struggles with the thought of growing up, and this is in great part why he is embarking on his journey, to become stronger and more independent, more adult. He does not handle responsibility well, and though he will try to take on as much as he feels is necessary (which is often far too much), he tends to buckle under pressure. All of these stressors and problems lead to somewhat low self-esteem, and because he would rather avoid reminding himself of them when talking with others, he avoids speaking about personal subjects and deflects questions about them with a practiced ease, although he is transparent as ever in doing so. He will withdraw if confronted without hope of escape.
Pokémon have always been a comfort to him when things get hard. His family is a great security blanket, and his love for them is immeasurable, but when they have all gone through the same hardships and spent so long trying to cope with their own individual damages as well as each other's, it becomes easier at times to confide in a companion who is unweighted by human problems. Kenzie can understand the language of Pok?mon, being a Pokemorph after all, and frequently finds it almost more pleasant to talk with Pokémon than with people. They are less likely to judge him or upset him, they keep secrets well, and they're nice to hug besides. (Kenzie is quite the snuggle bug when he gets close enough to someone.)
Perhaps the most important indicator of Mackenzie's character, though, is his resilience in the face of true adversity. He can get knocked down over and over; he can lose his legs and his father in a freak accident; he can face trauma, and insecurities, and self-imposed responsibility as "the man of the house" in his father's absence; and he can crumble, again and again, beneath the weight of everything he has on his shoulders. Still, despite it all, he pulls himself back up and keeps at it. He doesn't let his problems and the problems of his family interrupt his life. He may worry and may feel unsure, but he refuses to let any of that stop him. He tries to do things he probably shouldn't be able to do. He tries to push through all the bad and get to the good. He tries to fix himself and his family, even if he might not be great at it. He tries, and he doesn't stop trying. When he gets discouraged, he forces himself to keep at it regardless, because it takes a hell of a lot to keep him down for long.
So, Kenzie will be okay in the long run. He's been through a ton of shit, and that would give anyone some trouble -- but he's strong, and he has time to figure himself out. In the meantime, he can be a semi-normal kid, can smile and laugh and make friends and explore the world as he grows up at his own pace. He'll have some speed bumps along the way, both physical and mental, but all obstacles can be conquered with time and care.
HISTORY //
Liza Pozzi had spent her whole life in little Tranquita Villagio within the Litai Region. It was, as its name implied, quiet and quaint and... dull. It was so, so terribly dull. From its lazy canals to its sluggish streets; to the people within its bright and colorful homes all clustered together, with breaks for small local shops and a tiny hospital and one lonely posto di polizia; to its flowers and its fir-lined cobblestone paths leading away, away to somewhere more interesting and new -- it was dull. Liza was a woman with ambition that had been squashed by the monotony of life. Her family had resolutely refused to let her leave, and while she was defiant by nature and longed for so much more, she feared her father. He was stern, stubborn, and powerful; he claimed that he had Pokémon blood in his veins, that a great-grandfather somewhere along the line had been a Tauros morph, and Liza quietly suspected that this was the source of his temper as well as the other aspects of his personality that she so despised and shrunk away from. She could never defy him. She hated herself for her weakness, hated her father's Pokemorph heritage as though it was to blame, and hated Tranquita Villagio.
There was nothing for it. She grew to 18 years old, then 20, then 22, and so on. She worked at her parents' florist shop, and the scent of flowers became more stale to her by the day. She saw their colorful, fragrant petals as mockeries of her unhappiness; they were beautiful and emanated a sort of delight at existing that seemed infectious, but she could never absorb the glee that others got from an artfully-arranged bouquet. Liza was imprisoned, and she was unhappy.
When she turned 24, she met Elliot Lister, and he freed her from her prison.
It didn't seem at first that Elliot would become so important to Liza. He entered the flower shop, and with him brought an entirely new floral scent; great horns protruded from his skull, and every prong was decorated with a row of delicate pink bulbs, and every bulb carried the sweetest smell. It was not out of place in the shop, that was for sure, but it was not a scent that Liza recognized, and she had worked with many flowers. This curious observation aside, their interaction in their first meeting was minimal. He smiled (and he did have a handsome smile), he purchased a single flower (a pretty pink flower, an Eglantine rose, with a thorny stem and a scent that reminded Liza of the bulbs on his horns), and he paid and thanked her and left. She had never seen him before, and she was fascinated by the new arrival, but that was all.
Two days later, he came in again, and purchased the same kind of flower. Regularly he returned, and every time, without fail, he would purchase a single Eglantine rose, and smile, and thank Liza as he paid, and then leave. She did not know him, nor did he know her, but she came to be truly enraptured by his mere existence. Everything about this town was old news to her -- except for him. She looked forward to the sweet scent that followed him. She looked forward to that charming smile he wore when he thanked her. She liked his accent when he spoke; he was foreign, and not just foreign in the sense that he wasn't from town, but he was really foreign, from another region entirely. That alone led her to like him more for the novelty of it. She wondered where he had come from. She knew that she was being ridiculous, because she had not once shared a real conversation with him.
So, after he had paid several visits to the shop, she took her time ringing him up for his purchase (the usual, of course) and made small talk. "I'm curious," she said, glancing briefly up to catch his expression; he looked curious, but as friendly as ever. "Why do you always buy this kind of flower, and why only one?"
"Ah," he said, smiling. She couldn't help but smile back. "Well, I'm a surgeon at the hospital nearby, you know the one."
"Of course." She nodded. There was only one in town.
"Right. I like to give a flower to each patient that I work on. The Eglantine rose, in particular, means 'a wound to heal'. It's just to wish them a swift recovery, and lift their spirits a little." His smile widened further to a grin, and she found she liked this expression even more. There was no cockiness to it, only happiness and good intentions.
A surgeon -- but he looked so young! A prodigy? And so sweet, to leave flowers for his patients... "Why does the Eglantine rose mean that? Usually people choose carnations and tulips for that kind of thing." She raised her eyebrows, curious about him and about the meaning behind the flowers that she had grown to enjoy the smell of so much. She had paused at the register to focus on the conversation. He didn't appear to mind.
At this question, he looked a little sheepish, a little amused. "I saw it on a website, somewhere."
She blinked at him, then laughed; he laughed, too, and they exchanged grins and names and chatted as Liza finished her job. Elliot -- his name was Elliot, it rolled off the tongue nicely -- smiled wider than usual as he thanked her, and then he left, and Liza felt so much brighter than before they had talked. She even enjoyed working with the flowers, and she liked the colors of the houses and appreciated the gurgle of the slow-flowing water as she made her way home. Not even interaction with her father could lower her spirits.
Elliot's visits continued, and every time he and Liza would chat. She was a sharp-tongued girl, which tended to offend some, but her biting wit and dry humor only made Elliot smile and reply with jokes of his own. He was easy-going and knew just what to say to make Liza laugh. He knew so many things -- he was a prodigy, and had become a surgeon several years earlier than most; he was currently 28, but looked younger. It was the way dimples formed when he smiled, and the way his big, brown eyes gleamed when he was happy. He was so charming. He seemed to think Liza was charming, too.
It started as a crush, one that might not have been mutual, as far as she knew. Then, Elliot asked if she would like to talk when she wasn't working, maybe over dinner. She eagerly accepted, and their first date was a great success followed by many more. It seemed as though they would never run out of things to talk about, out of jokes to tell, and affectionate words to exchange. He spoke English, she discovered, and her English was broken and rusty, but he started to teach her and refresh her school-taught skills in the language. He said that he loved her accent, and she replied that she loved his -- and then he said "I love you," for the first time, and it was love. She loved him.
Her father hadn't met him yet. She was afraid; Elliot was a wonderful man, and her father would have no reason to dislike him, but she worried that he would find a reason. Signore Pozzi was not much for liking anyone, and so she worried up until the moment when she finally decided it was time to get over her fears and just see what happened. She invited Elliot to dinner with her family, and told her parents that she had been seeing the surgeon in town. They were surprised, for she had been secretive about the whole affair, but her mother at least was inclined to reserve judgment until she had met him. Signore Pozzi, on the other hand, was very gruff about it.
The meeting went well, better than Liza could have hoped and about as well as she should have expected. Elliot was on his very best behavior, calling Liza's father only "Signore Pozzi" -- until finally the man felt obliged to ask Elliot to "call me Alessio" -- and smiling so charmingly at Liza's mother and being wonderful, simply wonderful. He could be so goofy when he and Liza were alone together, so full of mirth and so casual, but he looked so focused and put-together for her parents. He did slip in jokes when he thought he could get away with it, and it was a testament to his success that the old Signor laughed along with Elliot.
A year went by. Spring faded into summer, and to Liza's amazement, Elliot's horns changed with the seasons. The bulbs had bloomed to the sweetest, most beautiful flowers she had ever seen, and then gave way for thick, green leaves, so many that he looked almost comical; they were like bushes on his head. They did not smell as sweet, but they had a subtle scent, the smell of nature and plants and nothing unusual, for what they were. Perhaps it was her affection for him that made her so fond of the smell now. The leaves changed when summer turned to fall, smelling crisper and almost sweet like pine, and transforming practically before her eyes from green, to yellow, to orange, to red, to brown. To her initial horror, the leaves fell off entirely when winter began, and there was no smell at all -- but once she was informed that it was natural and nothing to worry about, and they would regrow in the spring, she became amazed by the bare horns themselves, the white hue they had taken on.
They were married in the spring of the following year, and already Liza was pregnant with their first child. It was a girl; they named her Alessandra (Alessia, for short) after Liza's father. Elliot and Liza had long since moved into Elliot's house together, and it was comfortable and lovely just being with Elliot, but Liza found herself becoming stir-crazy once again. Her now-husband had broken the monotony for a while, but she could not forget that this place was stagnant. She had never left for an extended period of time. She had never been to another region. She was now married, and a mother, and still she worked at her parents' flower shop and still she wished for more. She had spoken to Elliot before about her restlessness, and he had said that they would leave someday -- perhaps to his home region.
With their daughter born and doing well, it became time to make the move. Signore Pozzi was not pleased, at first, and conjured reasons that Liza should stay here, with her family, where she belonged and was safe and surrounded by the good and familiar sights and people of town. Liza herself, having bottled up her frustrations for so long, countered him. She belonged where Elliot was, she said, and though she loved her father she was tired of living under him. She would be careful wherever she went, and she was no longer happy to see the "good and familiar" Villagio every morning and every night. By the time she was done, her father was left quiet and stunned for perhaps the first time Liza could remember.
He recovered enough to give the couple his blessing, and informed his daughter that while he would hate to see her go, he was alright as long as she visited sometimes -- and never spoke to him like that again. (But this last was said with a twinkle in his eye.) She had a new sense of pride, having stood up to the man she had sometimes hated and feared while growing up, and she was free.
Together they left by plane, headed for the Dolonn Region. They bought a home in a mid-sized town called Harvanshire, close to where Elliot had spent his childhood. He knew it was a good place, relatively low-crime and with a friendly community as a whole. It would be the perfect place to raise their child.
Alessia grew well, and was a calm but happy baby; she was two years old when she got a younger brother, Mackenzie. Together they sprouted up like weeds, and while Mackenzie was loud and full of energy and much more of a handful than his sister, the family was happy. Liza had never been happier or more in love, and while it was difficult at first to adjust to being a mother, she did it well. Once she felt she could afford the time, and once she simply could not stand being without something to do any longer, she took a job at the local bakery. (She wanted to get away from florist shops.) She was a capable cook, and became better very quickly, and when the house didn't smell like fresh bread or cookies it smelled of the many flowers that sat in vases scattered about in safe spots out of reach from the children. Elliot would buy Liza a flower every-other day or so, and every time he would tell her what the flower meant. A forget-me-not, for true love and the desire to be remembered always. Red tulips and blue violets, for love and faithfulness. At the turning of the seasons, always a handful of yellow gorse flowers, strange and pretty bulb-like things that signified love throughout the seasons. Even though she knew the meaning behind them, sometimes Liza would request some Eglantine roses, because she loved the smell and associated it so much with Elliot.
They were wonderful lovers, and likewise were wonderful parents. They raised their kids in a supportive, easygoing sort of way that bred friendliness, familiarity, and self-confidence; even withdrawn, quiet Alessia was brought out of her shell by such an environment, especially when Mackenzie was so full of energy and such a chatterbox. Still, they were firm, and though they had enough money to live very comfortably they taught their children to earn what they wanted. If they longed for some toy or trinket, they had to do chores around the house before they would be taken to purchase that greatly-desired thing. They were good kids, and though they went through the fickle and transient phases that children go through, deciding one week they wanted to become a scientist and then deciding the next that that was boring and they wanted to be a rock star, each child had certain fixtures of their personality that did not change.
Alessia, a Deerling morph like her brother, was a very artistic girl. From the moment she could hold a crayon, she would scribble and draw until she ran out of paper, and even then she tried decorating the walls and furniture instead before she was stopped by a stern-faced Liza. Then, when she was in kindergarten, she learned to paint. From there her talents progressed, and it was clear she had a knack for art. Still, the one thing she liked more than her paints and oils was, out of left field, rocks. She was fascinated by evolution stones, by the various types of minerals and rocks and rock-type Pok?mon, even. Around her neck, from the age of 8 when Elliot brought it home for her, Alessia always wore a simple, gray, oval-shaped stone on a gold chain. Mackenzie told her it was boring and she should have gotten a Thunderstone necklace or something, because that was cooler, but she would have none of it. She loved the necklace for its simplicity, and once she was able to really put it into words (which was relatively early, for she was an eloquent girl and fond of reading) she liked to say that the stone "grounded" her. Only once she was going through puberty and simply not evolving was it discovered that the stone was, in actuality, an Everstone. She kept it on anyway, and once again Mackenzie said she was crazy.
He wanted to evolve. Being a Deerling morph was so embarrassing, sometimes; it was fine for a girl to grow flowers in her (brightly-colored, sometimes pink) hair, and it was fine for a girl to be small and button-nosed and big-eyed and delicate, but boys got teased for that kind of thing. All Mackenzie wanted was to run around with the other kids and play sports, like football and rugby and even tag if that was the game of choice that day, but a lot of the children his age mocked him for the way he looked, the way he always smelled like flowers, the way he looked almost as feminine as his sister. A lot of them didn't want to play with him. He had friends, sure, because he was friendly and had a big, contagious smile and liked to make jokes and play with anyone who'd give him the opportunity, but the boys -- they were mostly boys, since the girls didn't mind as much -- that made fun of him didn't want to include him. Often he got stuck in small games with his friends rather than the big, energetic games with the other boys.
That was fine, though. He was bitter, sometimes, and sometimes he got mad, really mad. Once he hit another boy, and his mum grounded him for a week and didn't put any cookies in his lunch until he was un-grounded, and he felt sorry for what he did if only for that -- but he had told her why he got angry, and he saw that she didn't seem so mad once she knew. He didn't feel bad because he had hit the other boy, who had called him mean names and tried to pull at the sweet-scented yellow flower bloomed right above Kenzie's right ear. He felt bad that he'd gotten caught, and that the other boy hadn't been the one to get in trouble, and that his mum had been upset with him. That was all.
So, he wanted to evolve. If he was a Sawsbuck morph like his dad, then he would be strong and he would have horns instead of flowers, and he'd only smell like flowers some of the time, and the other boys wouldn't be able to make fun of him. He'd get stronger, too, and taller, he hoped. Maybe he wouldn't have such funny buck-teeth, and maybe his eyes wouldn't be so big or his eyelashes so long. Liam from his class was already quite tall, even though he was the same age as Kenzie (nine, at that point in time). He would have to keep his hair short, even, because of the way his horns would be difficult to cut around any other way; as long as he was a Deerling morph, his mum wouldn't let him cut it shorter than ear-length, because she didn't want to see his flowers get snipped, but that only made him look more girlish, and that gave his classmates more reason to tease.
Whatever. He was only here for as long as he needed to be, anyhow! He would be a famous athlete someday, or maybe a Pokémon trainer. They looked so cool on television, and they never got teased, Kenzie figured. They were too tough to get teased. Anyway, he really liked Pokémon! He could talk to them, unlike most of the other kids in his class, and since he was five he'd had a pet Hoppip named Em who was probably his best friend asides from Kath, a girl he knew from school. Kath liked to wear shorts and tee-shirts like the boys, and kept her hair short so it wasn't in her way when she ran around and played football with Kenzie and their other friends, so Kenzie liked her more than the rest of the girls. She wasn't gross. But Em was there all the time, except not really; she flew away a lot, and tended to only come back after a few days of blowing around in the breeze. At first that had worried the family, when they adopted her, but she did always come back, so it was okay. Sometimes she brought things, like sweet berries or feathers or nick-nacks she had picked up (or stolen, although Kenzie never asked for fear that mum would take the item away if she found out).
His dad was busy a lot, being a surgeon at the hospital, and his mum was busy too as Mackenzie grew older; by the time he was 11, she was in school, too (but not the same school that he was in, since she was trying to get a degree in culinary arts so that she could open up a restaurant someday), and still working at the bakery. He got to spend time with them during afternoons, though, when he wasn't doing homework -- and frankly, he didn't care much to do his homework when he could get away with not -- and they weren't doing work for their school or their job. They would watch movies together, and play board games together that were lame but kind of fun anyway, and Alessia would ask them to pose so that she could paint or draw them, and they would always end up in the most ridiculous positions that were impossible to hold long enough. When there was time, Kenzie's dad would play sports with him, kicking around a football back and forth and then insisting on chatting afterwards. His dad liked to give him advice, like "never give up" and "you have to keep a positive attitude to succeed" and "when you want something, go get it." It was very cheesy, Mackenzie thought, and most of the lines sounded like something off of a license plate, but he wound up taking a lot of the advice to heart despite himself.
They were an overall happy family with the support of extended relatives as well. His mother's side of the family lived in a far-away region and only spoke Litaian, and they visited their village during almost every extended break from school. Nonno (Kenzie's grandfather) could be stoic and a little scary, but according to mum he had softened up a lot over the years, and he was jolly around his grandchildren for the most part. Nonna was quiet and not especially intrusive, but she was always there with a smile and some delicious homemade food whenever they visited. Grandmum and granddad, Kenzie's father's parents, were local and constantly available for visits. Kenzie and Alessia would stop by their house on weekends, usually with at least one of their parents in tow, and would listen to the wild stories granddad liked to weave, or help grandmum with work around the house -- usually repairing something here or there. She had always been more handy with tools than her husband, a fact which he had ceased to be sheepish about when he had realized he was the better cook. Both were willing to lend a listening ear whenever Alessia or Mackenzie needed to vent their problems or ask for advice that they didn't feel they could approach their parents with, for whatever reason.
Mackenzie turned twelve a few months after Alessia turned fourteen, and for his birthday he received from his parents a new game for his handheld gaming system and a stuffed Shiny Teddiursa (which he accepted with some embarrassment in front of his friends at the birthday party, although secretly quite liked and uncreatively dubbed "Verde"). It was a fun little party; Kenzie and his friends went to see a movie, and then they came back to his house for dinner and cake, and Kath spent the night. She gave him a kiss on each cheek as she was leaving the next day, like Nonna and Nonno did to say hello and goodbye, but he saw that she was blushing before she walked out the door. He still didn't know exactly where he stood with girls in general, but he did like Kath. She was his best friend (not counting Em) and had been for years. That only made it more confusing, though.
About a month later, girls became the least of Mackenzie's worries.
The event itself was blurry to him, not just in hindsight; even at the time he had been sleeping when suddenly the sound of fire popping and crackling and the moan of collapsing wood had jolted him awake. He had been confused and tired from the rude awakening in the middle of the night, and the heat of flames had made him sluggish, and smoke had obscured his vision while fire's glow made shadows bounce from the walls in the most abstract of ways. One thing was certain, though: his house was burning down and he needed to get out get out. Panic did not help his decision making skills, so he took a moment to pull a burning Verde from the ground and give him a good few whomps against the bed to put him out before choosing a plan of action. The fire was spreading fast, and he wanted to save what he could, he didn't want to lose everything -- he wasn't thinking straight, he should have just run for it. But instead he gathered up his handheld game system and the few games next to it on his nightstand, and he reached for whatever was close enough to grab (the shirt he'd worn yesterday, his action figure of Lt. Surge from the Kanto Region, and an empty mug), and then he made towards the door.
It wasn't blocked by fire yet, he was okay, he could get out of here! He managed to get the door open even with his arms full, and he swung it open and made to run out -- and then there was a loud groan from the wood of the doorframe, and a terrifying CCCCRRRRRCK-CRASH, and then pain so much pain. That was when the details got extra spotty before going black entirely.
Mackenzie woke up in the hospital, and everything hurt, so he didn't try to move beyond blinking his eyes and moving his head slightly to look for his parents or sister. Alessia was there, looking hollow-eyed as she sat at his bedside and stared at nothing in particular. "Lessie?" he said quietly, and her head snapped up.
"You're okay..." She sounded astonished and relieved, and her eyes filled with tears just to see her brother awake. As though she hadn't been expecting him to wake up.
It took her ages to compose herself, and Mackenzie found himself sobbing right along with her, too scared and hurting and happy to see her to do anything else. When finally they were both fit to speak, Alessia explained what had happened.
There had been a fire. (That much Kenzie could remember, of course. He thought that he could still feel the heat of the flames on him, even though it was cold in the hospital room; he supposed he must have been burned.) Apparently the police were looking into it, and it had been put out before spreading beyond the house, but right now they didn't know the source. She said that she was mostly okay, and held up a hand to stop Kenzie when he attempted to protest. She only had a few little burns here and there, and they would scar, but not even that badly. She was fine. Here she paused, considering how best to go on. "Mum is... hurt a lot worse. She's not as bad as you, but her arms and hands are... not good. She'll be okay, they think, but um... dad..." She bit at her lip, and rubbed the back of her hand against her eyes. "Dad might not... make it. He..."
She trailed off, weeping again, but that was all Kenzie needed to hear. He stared with wide, red-rimmed eyes at his sister, knowing she rarely lied and never about something this important, yet hoping somehow this could all be a big stupid horrible practical joke. This couldn't be happening. Dad couldn't die, he -- and what was that about mum not having it bad compared to him? Every negative emotion swirled around his head, built up in his chest; he was angry, a little, but mostly he was terrified and sad and oh Arceus, what had happened to his legs--
They were gone.
It was a long process, recovering from the incident. Mackenzie had to acclimate to moving around in a wheelchair, because even though sometimes he felt like he could move his legs still, he knew that all he had left was a pair of stumps. He was taking pain medication, which was a small blessing considering how much he hurt sometimes; he had to get skin grafts for a couple of burns on his lower body, and even those that were in the process of healing normally were very painful and sensitive. He had to keep his upper body upright constantly, because bending stretched the burns on his back. The physical hardships were accompanied by psychological hurdles that almost were worse. He talked to a hospital therapist about how he was coping with the changes to his life (he wasn't), about how he had been getting along with his family since the incident (better than ever, except there was a hole there now where a father should have been), and about how he had been acclimating to the changes with his own body (poorly, but it was easier than the rest).
On the bright side, he had evolved during the fire. The doctors said that stress had made it happen a little early. Right now, though, he couldn't see any positives about anything. All he knew was that his forehead hurt from where stubby horns were growing, and his buck teeth were still there, and the only difference really was that his hair was brown and he no longer smelled like flowers.
Kenzie still wasn't fit to leave the hospital for his father's funeral, but his mum insisted on having a reception there in the building in addition to the main ceremony. His grandparents from both sides of his family, and his mother and sister and Kath (who had called him and asked if he wanted her there, and he had said yes, please, and now she was holding his hand), all of them gathered around his hospital bed and spoke words about Elliot. Most of them were simple and spoke volumes. All Kenzie could bring himself to say was "I miss you," while clutching Verde close to his chest. The stuffed Teddiursa had been pulled out of the flames along with Kenzie, and had been lovingly patched up by Alessia. It was his only remaining possession.
Life went on, although it was tough for a while. Mackenzie had been doing schoolwork in the hospital when he was feeling up to it, so he wasn't terribly behind, but it was still a challenge catching up once he returned to his classes. The other children didn't make fun of him anymore, although they were unnerved by his missing limbs and scars, by the way he got angry or cried sometimes for no reason. On top of everything else, his mother had to work even more to keep up with the monetary needs of the family. Without the income of a surgeon to keep them afloat with ease (although they did have savings left over), and perhaps because she was trying to distract herself from her husband's death, she worked herself to the bone between her classes that she refused to drop and her job that she toiled overtime at. It was hard on her injured hands, but she stuck through it. She was rarely around, but Alessia and Mackenzie had granndad and grandmum, who went out of their way constantly to support the broken family. Em had thankfully been off on one of her roaming flights after the fire, and she would snuggle up to Kenzie when he was sad, sticking around more than usual in an attempt to soothe him.
Kath, too, was a lifeline for Kenzie. She was one of the few people allowed to wheel Mackenzie around, and she was always willing to drop what she was doing to visit her friend if he needed her. She had felt more-than-friendly affection towards him for years, and she thought that maybe he might have reciprocated at some point, but now a girlfriend was not what he needed. He just needed a regular friend, a best friend, without the complications of romance. Kath, rambunctious and sassy though she had always been, was rather mature for her age, and she was able to put aside her own feelings for him. The closer they got, the less romantically interested she became, and the more she loved Mackenzie. He was strong, and capable of sticking out this horrible mess. She was strong, too, and she was willing to be his crutch until he had regained all his previous determination.
She was a second sister to him by the time he turned 13, and by age 14 he was smiling again, wheeling himself around at high speeds like an absolute git (so Kath would often say), and involved in school and activities perhaps more enthusiastically than ever before. Kath thought that maybe his brush with near-death had strengthened his passion for life. Whatever the case, his joy was infectious, and they were partners in crime all over again but even more cohesive as a pair.
Kenzie's mother and grandparents were very protective after the incident, and initially they had panicked and coddled the boy whenever he had done something phenomenally stupid that would up with him hurt in any way, minor or not. Alessia and Kath both received similar treatment, although Alessia was not much of a daredevil and Kath was slightly less reckless than her friend. After a while, though, it became clear that Kenzie needed the excitement and needed to be treated normally. They had difficulty with this even once they understood, and by the time Mackenzie was 16 he still hadn't been allowed to do much of anything exciting without sneaking under his mother's radar.
Kath knew how frustrated he was; he shared it with her constantly, every time he was told "no, you can't go out to the half-pipe, your wheelchair isn't meant for that" or "no, you can't go visit the Tyranitar trainer, Tyranitar are far too dangerous." Granted, their concerns were genuine and their intentions were good, but Kenzie felt stifled. "So," suggested Kath with a shrug, "Why not prove you can be independent?"
"How?" A look of interest appeared immediately on his face.
"Well," she said, "You could go off, become a trainer. Everyone does it. I'd go too if I didn't want to finish schooling." She liked Pokémon as much as the next gal, but her interests lay in psychology and counseling. She could blame Kenzie for that.
He had taken a long pause, considering it with initial excitement and then a sort of nervous worry. "But... I don't want to leave you."
She had smiled, and leaned forward to bump their foreheads together, eliciting a little giggle from him. "You'll ring me all the time. And write. And send texts. I'll miss you, too, love, but... I think it's time you become independent from me, as well. You know?" She had used the gentlest tone she could manage, and certainly she didn't mean that she wanted time away from him. He was her brother, her best friend, her childhood crush.
That was also why he needed to go. He relied on her, and she relied on him; they were practically joined at the hip. Although she would have loved it if they could have stayed that way all their lives, she knew that someday they would marry, and find work, and maybe travel, and altogether grow up. Kenzie had lived through something absolutely awful and made it out alright. Now it was time for the both of them to mature, and learn how to live without their crutches.
She was a little frightened by the thought, but that, too, was why he needed to go.
Mackenzie had always been an emotional boy, and they shared a hug and shed tears; he had started it, and just like his happiness, his sadness was infectious. He had agreed to think about it, acknowledging that maybe she was right -- but if he went, he would ring her up, and if the timezones were different he would be sure to do it in the middle of the night for her. That was what she got for scaring him off. She had grinned, and given him a peck on the cheek and a pinch on the arm.
Two weeks later, he announced to his mother, grandparents, and sister that he wanted to leave and become a trainer.
"Oh, Kenzie," Alessia said, and before Mackenzie could read her tone or expression, his mum spoke up.
"I don't know," she said, frowning. "Mackenzie, you know it would be difficult getting around, and we won't be there to--"
"Exactly," he retorted, matching her expression with the same degree of seriousness. "Mum, I need to do this. I need to show you, all of you, and myself, that I can. I need to."
A long silence followed, and was finally broken by Grandmum. "Oh, let him go, Liza. You can't keep him from growing up."
Here Alessia chimed in, too, with a smile on her face. "You'll be a brilliant trainer, Kenzie."
Although after the initial conversation Liza continued to protest, a week later she finally caved. "You had better call, at least twice per week, alright? No, once per day. Once every-other day, then, I can compromise. Which region are you thinking of going to? We'll pick one together."
With a bag packed full of clothing and supplies, a phone programmed with the numbers of his friends and family, and Verde tucked away inside the rolled-up sleeping back on top of his pack, Kenzie boarded the next ship to the Solastella Region. It had been agreed that the climate there sounded nice and the area did not sound terribly dangerous. Trembling a little with excitement and nerves, Kenzie watched the waving arms of Kath, Em, Alessia, mum, grandmum, and granddad, their figures becoming smaller as the boat departed.
He knew his father would have been proud.
OTHER INFORMATION //
- His birthday is May 9th.
- He's absolutely terrified of fire -- reasonably so. Fire-types make him nervous just existing in his proximity, and that's only the ones that don't have some part of their body constantly aflame; any actual fire attacks, directed at him or his Pokémon or otherwise, will be enough to elicit some serious fear responses.
- Before the accident, his legs below the knee were very satyr-like, complete with a layer of fur and hooves instead of feet.
- Kenzie is a vegetarian.
- Having grown up in a foreign region called Dolonn, Mackenzie has an Dolonian accent. He sounds very posh-British, to make a real-world comparison.
- He speaks Litaian (in real-world terms, Italian) fluently because his parents insisted on speaking it to him and his sister constantly when he was little, and his mother still speaks with him in it to keep him from getting too rusty. Mostly he uses it only when communicating with his mother or sister, because it keeps the conversations private if he's in a public place, and he likes to imagine it's sort of like a secret code just between them.
RP SAMPLE //
>>full thread here<<
The sound of voices nearby silenced everyone in the group; they strained their ears (or whatever it was that Levi had) to better hear the conversation and pinpoint where it was coming from. Hale slowly began to make his way towards the noise, scooping up the Cheri Berries that Apollo had picked and peering over one of the smaller Cheri Trees to see what was going on. There were a couple of young birds, nothing unexpected, and... was that...?
+We gotta do somethin',+ hissed Levi quietly, eyes narrowed at the scene before them. +That punk is tryin' to take the berries! Those belong to the birds and their families, not some mook wantin' to make a profit.+
+He's a jerk,+ Lilith agreed, though continued in a more sly tone, +'Course, he has a point... These berries could be traded off for a nice profit...+
+Lady, you are soulless.+ +Better than brainless.+
+Shhh,+ Apollo said, considering the best course of action. It was very likely that they would have to fight all three of these Pokémon if they just jumped in without a plan; since Levi was at a disadvantage no matter which opponent he landed, that wouldn't be good. Perhaps they could outright challenge the "punk" in question, targeting only him. Or perhaps they could try to strike up some kind of a deal, try to avoid violence altogether -- but then, that would be very difficult and might not work. Hmm...
Aha!
Hastily, Apollo turned to his teammates and gestured for them to cluster together. He whispered the plan to them, and by the time he was done no one had any real complaints; it seemed functional enough. They split up: Lilith silently zipped up a tree, Levi scurried out of sight, and Hale remained relatively hidden behind the Cheri Tree, putting the berries he had gathered into his bag. Only Apollo stepped out into the open, tiny wings spread in an open, engaging sort of gesture.
+Good evening -- or perhaps I should say morning. I hope I'm not interrupting?+ His gaze swept over all three of the Pok?mon, but ultimately settled on the only non-avian creature of the trio. +Sir, I have heard a lot about you. Perhaps you'd be interested in a little bet? Could be worth your while, if luck favors you.+ For having inserted himself into the group's rather private conversation, Apollo was awfully level-headed. His tone was even somewhat amiable.
The rest of the team waited quietly for their chance.
Pokéball x 10
Potion x 5
None yet
Trainer ID
Smartphone
