Post by Remy 'Thorn' Dupris on Jan 22, 2019 23:46:02 GMT
Remy 'Thorn' Dupris
NAME Remy 'Thorn' Dupris | AGE Thirty-three |
OCCUPATION Team Rocket Member | HOMETOWN Saffron City, Kanto |
SEXUALITY Heterosexual | PLAYED BY Thorn |
PERSONALITY
POSITIVE TRAITS: • Intelligent • Fashionable • Charismatic • Resourceful • Thorough | NEGATIVE TRAITS: • Vain • Greedy • Sociopathic • Obsessive • Manipulative |
LIKES • Power • Tricking others • Intelligence • Beauty • Fine Wine | DISLIKES: • Weakness • Stupidity • Physical labor • Do-gooders • Losing |
POKEMON
Species - Odin the Murkrow Gender - Male
Ability - Insomnia Level - 10
Moves - Confuse Ray, Peck, Astonish, Pursuit
Species - Odin the Murkrow Gender - Male
Ability - Insomnia Level - 10
Moves - Confuse Ray, Peck, Astonish, Pursuit
APPEARANCE
Thorn stands at 5'11''. He has an average build, weighing in at 223 pounds, but he'll never admit it, liking himself to an Adonis. He has short brown hair, but peculiarly pale blue eyes. They are strikingly cold looking, reflecting the nature of the beast. He has the ability to grow facial hair, but remains clean shaven, preferring the clean look of his skin. His teeth are all well-aligned, although not from birth thanks to some secret and rather expensive orthodontic work.
What is truly striking is his attire. When in casual, he's far from it. Thorn always seems to wear black suits with a variety of shirts and ties, although his typical color motifs are red, orange, and black. There's a rumor that he has a t-shirt and shorts somewhere, but it seems unlikely and is completely unfounded. He also had some lovely accessories, including a lovely black fedora and a marvelous silver pocket watch. Thorn spared no expense.
His work attire, on the other hand, is far more drastic and terrifying. He wears military cargo pants and long sleeved shirts, all black. He wears black work boots that are relatively plain. He also sports a mask that hides his face. The mask is white with diagonal eye slits. There are also black flames streaking across from the bottom left to the top right side. In terms of equipment, Thorn prefers more delicate weaponry, and carries a garrote wire and a thin stiletto. He of course also carries the supplies to make Molotov Cocktails, for as a wise man once sang, 'fire is the devil's' only friend.'
Recently, he's added to his elaborate wardrobe. He now has an ebony cane with a golden head shaped like Giratina. This is, however, no mere gaudy trinket. It was gifted to him by the Legendary Pokémon himself, and when he channels its energy he can use it to communicate with the Dragon of darkness.
HISTORY
{From Sadness...}
Remy Dupris probably had a lovely infancy. He probably had a loving mother and a proud father who cared about him very much. He probably could have grown into a well-adjusted boy and a proper young man. Unfortunately, we don’t live in a world of probablies. Remy never got a chance to meet his parents, for as a baby they were killed in a terrible car accident. The only thing Remy got to keep from his previous life was a stuffed Teddiursa that he cherished most dearly.
One thing he didn’t cherish was his new living arrangements. In one of the multitude of districts of Saffron City, there was a rather modest orphanage. The woman in charge to the outside world may have been a rather innocent looking person, but she was the type of caregiver who preferred to eat her dinners out of a bottle, and let the inmates run the asylum. Remy was rather small, one of the younger children at the home, new to the place, and rather quiet and subdued due to recently being forced to deal with the fact his Mommy and Daddy were never coming home: all things that made him the perfect prey for bullies.
The caregiver never noticed the bruises or injuries Remy seemed to have all the time. She was more concerned with watching her stories and keeping her alcohol levels at a steady flow. Day after day, Remy had no one to turn to, no one who would offer a kind word or a pat on the back. The bullies had a new hobby, and they didn’t want to stir the pot and remind the thugs who the old hobbies used to be. One day, Remy was hiding in the garden near the rose bushes and the well, his favorite spot to try and stay out of sight and out of mind. Unfortunately for the young boy, the loudest and meanest of the bullies found him way too easily.
The bully taunted him as per usual, calling him the usual insulting nickname Thorn, because he’s a little prick. Remy sniffled and tried to tell the bully to leave him alone, but the stuttering and crying only served to push the bully even further. Ripping his prized stuffed Teddiursa from him, the bully pulled and pulled until the head popped right off. He threw the toy remnants right at the broken Remy. The bully then started dancing on the edge of the well, making rude gestures and calling him Thorn the Prick in a sing-song voice, before slipping on a slick edge. The troglodyte made a rather savvy grab on the edge and started calling for help. The broken Remy, clutching the severed Teddiursa toy head, walked up to the edge of the well. All the bruises, sprains, broken bones flew past his eyes, and something broke inside of him. Any innocence and happiness Remy once might have had shattered into a million pieces. Remy did something he hadn’t done in an incredibly long time: he smiled. The thug grew cold as he saw the sinister look in his prior victim’s eye, and saw no love in the smile. The last thing he heard was a quiet voice whispering.
“Bye bye.”
Remy stepped gently on the hands of the bully, causing not enough pain to break any finger bones but just enough to make the grip intolerable. The bully cried out as he plummeted into darkness and out of the sight of the world of light.
The last thing anyone heard about that particular bully was that he was in a coma, and that he may live or die. The other bullies tried to go about their normal tricks, but he was no longer the same scared boy that they loved to hate. The bone chilling smile he always seemed to wear when they tried made them want to wet themselves. It wasn’t just the bullies who avoided him like the plague; all the children from before he arrived were terrified of him. The new children who came after him though thought he was as nice as could be. They had no idea that the boy was dead inside, and held not a single drop of kindness in the vast empty sea that used to contain his heart. Remy Dupris was gone forever. Thorn had been born.
Remy Dupris probably had a lovely infancy. He probably had a loving mother and a proud father who cared about him very much. He probably could have grown into a well-adjusted boy and a proper young man. Unfortunately, we don’t live in a world of probablies. Remy never got a chance to meet his parents, for as a baby they were killed in a terrible car accident. The only thing Remy got to keep from his previous life was a stuffed Teddiursa that he cherished most dearly.
One thing he didn’t cherish was his new living arrangements. In one of the multitude of districts of Saffron City, there was a rather modest orphanage. The woman in charge to the outside world may have been a rather innocent looking person, but she was the type of caregiver who preferred to eat her dinners out of a bottle, and let the inmates run the asylum. Remy was rather small, one of the younger children at the home, new to the place, and rather quiet and subdued due to recently being forced to deal with the fact his Mommy and Daddy were never coming home: all things that made him the perfect prey for bullies.
The caregiver never noticed the bruises or injuries Remy seemed to have all the time. She was more concerned with watching her stories and keeping her alcohol levels at a steady flow. Day after day, Remy had no one to turn to, no one who would offer a kind word or a pat on the back. The bullies had a new hobby, and they didn’t want to stir the pot and remind the thugs who the old hobbies used to be. One day, Remy was hiding in the garden near the rose bushes and the well, his favorite spot to try and stay out of sight and out of mind. Unfortunately for the young boy, the loudest and meanest of the bullies found him way too easily.
The bully taunted him as per usual, calling him the usual insulting nickname Thorn, because he’s a little prick. Remy sniffled and tried to tell the bully to leave him alone, but the stuttering and crying only served to push the bully even further. Ripping his prized stuffed Teddiursa from him, the bully pulled and pulled until the head popped right off. He threw the toy remnants right at the broken Remy. The bully then started dancing on the edge of the well, making rude gestures and calling him Thorn the Prick in a sing-song voice, before slipping on a slick edge. The troglodyte made a rather savvy grab on the edge and started calling for help. The broken Remy, clutching the severed Teddiursa toy head, walked up to the edge of the well. All the bruises, sprains, broken bones flew past his eyes, and something broke inside of him. Any innocence and happiness Remy once might have had shattered into a million pieces. Remy did something he hadn’t done in an incredibly long time: he smiled. The thug grew cold as he saw the sinister look in his prior victim’s eye, and saw no love in the smile. The last thing he heard was a quiet voice whispering.
“Bye bye.”
Remy stepped gently on the hands of the bully, causing not enough pain to break any finger bones but just enough to make the grip intolerable. The bully cried out as he plummeted into darkness and out of the sight of the world of light.
The last thing anyone heard about that particular bully was that he was in a coma, and that he may live or die. The other bullies tried to go about their normal tricks, but he was no longer the same scared boy that they loved to hate. The bone chilling smile he always seemed to wear when they tried made them want to wet themselves. It wasn’t just the bullies who avoided him like the plague; all the children from before he arrived were terrified of him. The new children who came after him though thought he was as nice as could be. They had no idea that the boy was dead inside, and held not a single drop of kindness in the vast empty sea that used to contain his heart. Remy Dupris was gone forever. Thorn had been born.
{...to Sadism...}
Thorn lied and smiled his way through the rest of his childhood. He hadn’t given up his birth name, considering it a useful tool, but now he had started going by the old childhood nickname Thorn. What had begun as an insult now became his true identity amongst a very select few. Thorns were the pain-inducing perfect weapons of the most beautiful flower. Why not relate to such a wonderful creation of the natural world? School wasn’t very hard, but he didn’t get better than average grades. It was by no means a lack of knowledge, for Thorn probably knew more than the teachers. It was more of a lack of effort. Thorn saw no reason to try hard, because numbers on a report card didn’t really matter in the real world.
Thorn coasted from job to job, never really finding anything that stuck with him. He didn’t worship the gods of the Pokemon League and follow the steps of most children and teenagers in the form of a Pokemon trainer. A bunch of half-wits fighting gladiatorial mishaps in an effort to be second best had zero appeal. All the trainers of the city were weak and useless. Even the gym leaders were worthless in his eyes. If you weren’t the champion, then you were a weakling. Therefore, Thorn ignored the path of the Pokemon trainer.
Working at a rather high-end clothing store, he took a lunch break to get away from the other chattering clerks going on about which celebrity was hot or not. Thorn was much better looking than any of them, and the high-pitched clucking gave him a headache. He decided to take his lunch outside to the route north of Saffron. Sitting under a tree near the riverside, he only got halfway through his sandwich before the sounds of a ruckus from the nearby tall grass. A Murkrow came flopping out from the grass, a rare sight for the middle of the day, but the reason for the unusual occurrence became clear as a large Raticate came barreling after it. The beleaguered bird must have been driven from its nesting ground by the more intimidating normal type. Thorn rolled his eyes and began to stifle the disgust at seeing a weak creature get what it deserved, but paused upon seeing the Murkrow unleash a glowing wave of energy. The Confuse Ray twisted the mind and caused the Raticate to stumble into the river. The Raticate began to flounder, but rather than save the drowning Raticate from a watery grave, he decided instead to offer the Murkrow the remainder of his sandwich. Whether it was because he saw something in him that mirrored his own past, or he was merely impressed by the cleverness of the Dark type, Thorn walked back into town with a Murkrow on his shoulder. Although his childhood years were far behind him, Thorn purchased a Pokeball for the first time in his life for his new partner, Odin.
With Odin staring haughtily at his annoying boss from his shoulder, Thorn promptly quit his job. He had decided that there were only two paths to the pinnacle of fame, power, and fortune that he desired: movie stardom, or crime. Thorn didn’t know enough people in the movie industry, which only left one choice…
Thorn lied and smiled his way through the rest of his childhood. He hadn’t given up his birth name, considering it a useful tool, but now he had started going by the old childhood nickname Thorn. What had begun as an insult now became his true identity amongst a very select few. Thorns were the pain-inducing perfect weapons of the most beautiful flower. Why not relate to such a wonderful creation of the natural world? School wasn’t very hard, but he didn’t get better than average grades. It was by no means a lack of knowledge, for Thorn probably knew more than the teachers. It was more of a lack of effort. Thorn saw no reason to try hard, because numbers on a report card didn’t really matter in the real world.
Thorn coasted from job to job, never really finding anything that stuck with him. He didn’t worship the gods of the Pokemon League and follow the steps of most children and teenagers in the form of a Pokemon trainer. A bunch of half-wits fighting gladiatorial mishaps in an effort to be second best had zero appeal. All the trainers of the city were weak and useless. Even the gym leaders were worthless in his eyes. If you weren’t the champion, then you were a weakling. Therefore, Thorn ignored the path of the Pokemon trainer.
Working at a rather high-end clothing store, he took a lunch break to get away from the other chattering clerks going on about which celebrity was hot or not. Thorn was much better looking than any of them, and the high-pitched clucking gave him a headache. He decided to take his lunch outside to the route north of Saffron. Sitting under a tree near the riverside, he only got halfway through his sandwich before the sounds of a ruckus from the nearby tall grass. A Murkrow came flopping out from the grass, a rare sight for the middle of the day, but the reason for the unusual occurrence became clear as a large Raticate came barreling after it. The beleaguered bird must have been driven from its nesting ground by the more intimidating normal type. Thorn rolled his eyes and began to stifle the disgust at seeing a weak creature get what it deserved, but paused upon seeing the Murkrow unleash a glowing wave of energy. The Confuse Ray twisted the mind and caused the Raticate to stumble into the river. The Raticate began to flounder, but rather than save the drowning Raticate from a watery grave, he decided instead to offer the Murkrow the remainder of his sandwich. Whether it was because he saw something in him that mirrored his own past, or he was merely impressed by the cleverness of the Dark type, Thorn walked back into town with a Murkrow on his shoulder. Although his childhood years were far behind him, Thorn purchased a Pokeball for the first time in his life for his new partner, Odin.
With Odin staring haughtily at his annoying boss from his shoulder, Thorn promptly quit his job. He had decided that there were only two paths to the pinnacle of fame, power, and fortune that he desired: movie stardom, or crime. Thorn didn’t know enough people in the movie industry, which only left one choice…
{...to Shula}
Thorn had managed to sweet talk his way in with a few of the local thugs during his time in the retail business. They had been trying to rip off the store where Thorn spent many of his days torturing himself with boredom. He had shown them how to properly get away with shoplifting being the rather disloyal employee he was, and they had treated him with respect ever since. Thorn tracked them down and began to help them in other endeavors, and it wasn’t long before he was inducted into the gang himself. It also wasn’t long before he would meet the person who would cause him more frustration than any living being on the face of the earth: Edgar Dolarhyde.
Edgar was loud-mouthed, bone-headed, and probably psychotic. Thorn hated him immediately upon meeting him, and despised the fact that the two of them seemed to get paired for more jobs than with anyone else. However, Thorn had to admit that the moron had his uses: he was quite strong, and although he would never admit it, physical strength was never Thorn’s strong suit. Sometimes the brain wasn’t the only muscle needed to pull off a task. Despite the fact that the two of them probably wanted to kill each other, as the jobs went on and successes kept piling up, they actually began to develop a pseudo-friendship, as in they could tolerate each other’s existences. The gang leader saw this success as a reason to try and step up the audacity of their tasks. This displeased Thorn to no end, knowing the functional and financial limitations the gang had. Thorn knew that the gang had to stay in its lane, but their boss didn’t seem to know their role, assuming all of his minions were as capable as Thorn and Edgar.
It was a huge mistake.
The cops had surrounded the building one day, and it was utter chaos on the streets. Gang members were battling and fighting the city’s guardians. It was supposed to be a major heist, and Thorn and Edgar hadn’t even been sent out to oversee it. The fact Thorn had mouthed off to the leader, calling the plan idiotic and inane, probably had nothing to do with it, but trying to rip off the nearby Celadon Supercenter in broad daylight certainly wasn’t a nobel prize winning idea. Thorn and Edgar were sitting in the boss’ office, listening to the whining worthless bag of flesh quail about how they needed to get out there and do their damn jobs and save him. Thorn looked at his partner, who was just as displeased with management as he was but for much different reasons, before whispering in that soft, lethal tone again.
“No.”
Thorn nodded and sat back, watching as Edgar went about his work. He had to give the lug credit: he enjoyed what he did. Taking a bottle of bottom-shelf liquor from the ‘bar’, he poured it all over the office including on the bloody pulp of what used to be their boss. Thorn pointed towards the fire escape as he and the maniac clambered over the edge of the window. Thorn took a cigarillo from his pocket and lit it, one of his favorite vices. He glanced over his shoulder and chuckled before speaking in a sing-song tone.
“Consider this our two week notice.”
He cast the match over his shoulder as the office immediately was ingulfed in wicked flame. The two men headed down to the street. Thorn was left at a cross roads. All logic said he should cut ties with this clown. He was stupid, not discreet, and probably would be the death of him one day, but Thorn for once in his life didn’t follow logic.
“Shall we find new employment?”
Edgar was the closest thing Thorn ever had to a friend, aside from Odin. The two had been on many missions together, and they had gotten to know the measure of the other. Edgar’s rage and strength had managed to get them out of more then one situation where even the most perfectly laid plans had found a snag. In a word, Edgar had proven himself useful. Thorn knew that Kanto wouldn’t have the power opportunities that they sought. So the sociopath boarded a boat with his Pokemon and his Psychopath, following the rumors to a new land called Shula...
Thorn had managed to sweet talk his way in with a few of the local thugs during his time in the retail business. They had been trying to rip off the store where Thorn spent many of his days torturing himself with boredom. He had shown them how to properly get away with shoplifting being the rather disloyal employee he was, and they had treated him with respect ever since. Thorn tracked them down and began to help them in other endeavors, and it wasn’t long before he was inducted into the gang himself. It also wasn’t long before he would meet the person who would cause him more frustration than any living being on the face of the earth: Edgar Dolarhyde.
Edgar was loud-mouthed, bone-headed, and probably psychotic. Thorn hated him immediately upon meeting him, and despised the fact that the two of them seemed to get paired for more jobs than with anyone else. However, Thorn had to admit that the moron had his uses: he was quite strong, and although he would never admit it, physical strength was never Thorn’s strong suit. Sometimes the brain wasn’t the only muscle needed to pull off a task. Despite the fact that the two of them probably wanted to kill each other, as the jobs went on and successes kept piling up, they actually began to develop a pseudo-friendship, as in they could tolerate each other’s existences. The gang leader saw this success as a reason to try and step up the audacity of their tasks. This displeased Thorn to no end, knowing the functional and financial limitations the gang had. Thorn knew that the gang had to stay in its lane, but their boss didn’t seem to know their role, assuming all of his minions were as capable as Thorn and Edgar.
It was a huge mistake.
The cops had surrounded the building one day, and it was utter chaos on the streets. Gang members were battling and fighting the city’s guardians. It was supposed to be a major heist, and Thorn and Edgar hadn’t even been sent out to oversee it. The fact Thorn had mouthed off to the leader, calling the plan idiotic and inane, probably had nothing to do with it, but trying to rip off the nearby Celadon Supercenter in broad daylight certainly wasn’t a nobel prize winning idea. Thorn and Edgar were sitting in the boss’ office, listening to the whining worthless bag of flesh quail about how they needed to get out there and do their damn jobs and save him. Thorn looked at his partner, who was just as displeased with management as he was but for much different reasons, before whispering in that soft, lethal tone again.
“No.”
Thorn nodded and sat back, watching as Edgar went about his work. He had to give the lug credit: he enjoyed what he did. Taking a bottle of bottom-shelf liquor from the ‘bar’, he poured it all over the office including on the bloody pulp of what used to be their boss. Thorn pointed towards the fire escape as he and the maniac clambered over the edge of the window. Thorn took a cigarillo from his pocket and lit it, one of his favorite vices. He glanced over his shoulder and chuckled before speaking in a sing-song tone.
“Consider this our two week notice.”
He cast the match over his shoulder as the office immediately was ingulfed in wicked flame. The two men headed down to the street. Thorn was left at a cross roads. All logic said he should cut ties with this clown. He was stupid, not discreet, and probably would be the death of him one day, but Thorn for once in his life didn’t follow logic.
“Shall we find new employment?”
Edgar was the closest thing Thorn ever had to a friend, aside from Odin. The two had been on many missions together, and they had gotten to know the measure of the other. Edgar’s rage and strength had managed to get them out of more then one situation where even the most perfectly laid plans had found a snag. In a word, Edgar had proven himself useful. Thorn knew that Kanto wouldn’t have the power opportunities that they sought. So the sociopath boarded a boat with his Pokemon and his Psychopath, following the rumors to a new land called Shula...
aeron of thq
