Post by crow on Oct 22, 2017 21:12:09 GMT
Name: Kasper Valeryn Killmore Greymark
Gender: Male
Age: 48
Apperence Pic:
Height: 6'2"
Weight(lbs.): 142 lbs
Likes:
Rain, Cloudy Days, Winter, Pain, Tea
Dislikes:
Summer, Lavender, Citrus, Children, Self-Righteous people
Personality:
Mildly sadistic with no sense of morality and abrupt mood swings ranging as wide as stone cold and unemotional to maniacal to violent, Crow is, at his core, unhinged entirely. He has a hard time making attatchments to things, and difficulty empathizing or connecting to anything, apathetic to others and their conditions, feelings, emotions, and by extension usually uncaring to their wants, needs, ideas, and opinions. He acts to serve himself, and no one else, he might work for another but always he seeks something of self interest, and care or concern for others is non-existent. He is, however, a passionate and efficient worker, able to find the most effective ways of doing things and relentlessly pursuing goals to their end, something aided by his quick thinking and wits. His mind and his body are dexterous, and his gaze is sharp, quick to observe, quick to interpret and read, finding often more then what is said and clever to piece apart things.
For his lack of morality, Crow takes strangely a very zealous stance sometimes, often believing himself instilled with purpose: and often finding it firmly within his vision to believe such extremes as humanity and/or pokemon being plagues upon the earth, or himself to, in his works of often malevolousness, being a twisted sort of divine agent or perhaps merely an agent acting in the interest of making better everything, his sufferings of a weak body and a weak immune system that further strain upon a frail and dissapointingly human form merely annoying inhibitations upon himself, a sickness that shows him what he truly is and what everything is.
Biography:
From the beginning Crow was a sickly and frail thing. Dissapointing really to madame Greymark, as was his father, whom would be chased away before he was old enough to truly have known him well, and his siblings, many of whom were to die in pregnancy or in birth. It was rare they saw infancy, and of the few who did none survived beyond a few months. Except Crow, if one could truly say such of him as surviving. Certainly he was never well, born premature, his body was weak, his lungs under devloped just slightly, his heart weak and stricken with numbers of problems, his skin weak and prone to scarring and bruising, his bones weak and far too easy to break. For a time they wondered as well if he were mute or mentally disabled, and perhaps in a way he was, though certainly when he was to finally become a child—frail and often assisted through life by braces and even when he outgrew them lapsinh constantly between injury and illness—he proved quick of mind and intelligent, a voracious learner of wit and cleverness beyond his years, and his good sense as well, his sharp tongue often quick to find enemies with biting remarks or decided apathy and aloofness.
His teen years found Crow with severe mood swings now, an illness for which he rarely treated himself even when given the supplies, detesting the effects of medicine and letting instead his monstrocities wreak havoc. He became strange, taking after odd quicks of his mother and becoming obsessive in his interests. Indeed madame Greymark had always been distant to her only surviving son, when later she was to concieve a daughter who was healthy and well she would cut him off entirely, not that he might particularly have cared given her lack of affection from the start. Not however before she might instill a certain fascination with the morbid, the grotesque, the eccentric, and have taught him a decided lack of need to care for others and laws and rules, the physical ones or the hidden ones of respect, of morality, of conduct. He found love in corvids, in dark types and ghost types, in death, in pain, or himself and of others. He was barely in his twenties, long departed from such stifling and restricting places as school, when he first found crew in an organization running... Illegal operations.
Theft of pokemon, laundering of money, theft, harassment, mugging, blackmail, all became well known and acquanted to him, but what Crow always held love of was less the acts and more the power and a love of villainry for the sake of it. He pursued his sadistic ways, not because he needed funds, or pokemon, or anything, just because it was so easy and pleasurable to be evil. Why try to live any other way? There was joy, fierce, savage, untamed, primal, in what he did, in experiments with technology and on people, on pokemon, especially on the rare gijinka, in training, in defeating and crushing underfoot others, whether they wre close, were strangers, worked for him, or opposed him. It didnt matter.
Glory didn't last, but Crow, ahh! He was too good to be caught when the team fell. And he made his mark upon a different land, taking flight to new places. On his own, in a group, he made his way, he did his thing. There were close scrapes, aiy he was nearly caught several times and lost some feathers, the last saw his team taken in surprise capture, but the long arm of the law was never quite long enough, and Crow himself made his escape, irritation and frustration at starting anew but not distraught. He had risen from nothing before many a time, Elenia was merely another chance, another change. He was a master of change. A master of chaos.
Ironic, isn't it, to find a group so like the one he had left behind named for such? There is a beauty to irony. One Crow embraced. He was an ember, a flame crushed and now newly lit again, rising to a fire as he turned his talents from his former team to his new one with vigor, aggressive, ruthless, cutthroat, eager. At first he found it but a weak thing like him, a fiery leader but no bulk behind it. Cinder was her name, a fine match it was to her as well, and the two of them worked to build something more, something greater. They aimed for conquest, for power, for domination. He took over at some point, becoming the face, the leader, the shadowy figure behind Team Chaos' destruction, Cinder maintained her power through connections, presenting an innocent face of a powerful Gym leader, her ties to team chaos going underground through him. Together, they could rule the whole land once they got the gleefuls out of the way.
Occupation: Leader of Team Chaos
Which Team are you: Chaos
Trainer Type: Biker/Team Chaos Boss
Favorite Pokémon: Murkrow
Least Favorite Pokémon: Chansey
Partner Pokémon: Markus (Murkrow)
Gender: Male
Age: 48
Apperence Pic:
Height: 6'2"
Weight(lbs.): 142 lbs
Likes:
Rain, Cloudy Days, Winter, Pain, Tea
Dislikes:
Summer, Lavender, Citrus, Children, Self-Righteous people
Personality:
Mildly sadistic with no sense of morality and abrupt mood swings ranging as wide as stone cold and unemotional to maniacal to violent, Crow is, at his core, unhinged entirely. He has a hard time making attatchments to things, and difficulty empathizing or connecting to anything, apathetic to others and their conditions, feelings, emotions, and by extension usually uncaring to their wants, needs, ideas, and opinions. He acts to serve himself, and no one else, he might work for another but always he seeks something of self interest, and care or concern for others is non-existent. He is, however, a passionate and efficient worker, able to find the most effective ways of doing things and relentlessly pursuing goals to their end, something aided by his quick thinking and wits. His mind and his body are dexterous, and his gaze is sharp, quick to observe, quick to interpret and read, finding often more then what is said and clever to piece apart things.
For his lack of morality, Crow takes strangely a very zealous stance sometimes, often believing himself instilled with purpose: and often finding it firmly within his vision to believe such extremes as humanity and/or pokemon being plagues upon the earth, or himself to, in his works of often malevolousness, being a twisted sort of divine agent or perhaps merely an agent acting in the interest of making better everything, his sufferings of a weak body and a weak immune system that further strain upon a frail and dissapointingly human form merely annoying inhibitations upon himself, a sickness that shows him what he truly is and what everything is.
Biography:
From the beginning Crow was a sickly and frail thing. Dissapointing really to madame Greymark, as was his father, whom would be chased away before he was old enough to truly have known him well, and his siblings, many of whom were to die in pregnancy or in birth. It was rare they saw infancy, and of the few who did none survived beyond a few months. Except Crow, if one could truly say such of him as surviving. Certainly he was never well, born premature, his body was weak, his lungs under devloped just slightly, his heart weak and stricken with numbers of problems, his skin weak and prone to scarring and bruising, his bones weak and far too easy to break. For a time they wondered as well if he were mute or mentally disabled, and perhaps in a way he was, though certainly when he was to finally become a child—frail and often assisted through life by braces and even when he outgrew them lapsinh constantly between injury and illness—he proved quick of mind and intelligent, a voracious learner of wit and cleverness beyond his years, and his good sense as well, his sharp tongue often quick to find enemies with biting remarks or decided apathy and aloofness.
His teen years found Crow with severe mood swings now, an illness for which he rarely treated himself even when given the supplies, detesting the effects of medicine and letting instead his monstrocities wreak havoc. He became strange, taking after odd quicks of his mother and becoming obsessive in his interests. Indeed madame Greymark had always been distant to her only surviving son, when later she was to concieve a daughter who was healthy and well she would cut him off entirely, not that he might particularly have cared given her lack of affection from the start. Not however before she might instill a certain fascination with the morbid, the grotesque, the eccentric, and have taught him a decided lack of need to care for others and laws and rules, the physical ones or the hidden ones of respect, of morality, of conduct. He found love in corvids, in dark types and ghost types, in death, in pain, or himself and of others. He was barely in his twenties, long departed from such stifling and restricting places as school, when he first found crew in an organization running... Illegal operations.
Theft of pokemon, laundering of money, theft, harassment, mugging, blackmail, all became well known and acquanted to him, but what Crow always held love of was less the acts and more the power and a love of villainry for the sake of it. He pursued his sadistic ways, not because he needed funds, or pokemon, or anything, just because it was so easy and pleasurable to be evil. Why try to live any other way? There was joy, fierce, savage, untamed, primal, in what he did, in experiments with technology and on people, on pokemon, especially on the rare gijinka, in training, in defeating and crushing underfoot others, whether they wre close, were strangers, worked for him, or opposed him. It didnt matter.
Glory didn't last, but Crow, ahh! He was too good to be caught when the team fell. And he made his mark upon a different land, taking flight to new places. On his own, in a group, he made his way, he did his thing. There were close scrapes, aiy he was nearly caught several times and lost some feathers, the last saw his team taken in surprise capture, but the long arm of the law was never quite long enough, and Crow himself made his escape, irritation and frustration at starting anew but not distraught. He had risen from nothing before many a time, Elenia was merely another chance, another change. He was a master of change. A master of chaos.
Ironic, isn't it, to find a group so like the one he had left behind named for such? There is a beauty to irony. One Crow embraced. He was an ember, a flame crushed and now newly lit again, rising to a fire as he turned his talents from his former team to his new one with vigor, aggressive, ruthless, cutthroat, eager. At first he found it but a weak thing like him, a fiery leader but no bulk behind it. Cinder was her name, a fine match it was to her as well, and the two of them worked to build something more, something greater. They aimed for conquest, for power, for domination. He took over at some point, becoming the face, the leader, the shadowy figure behind Team Chaos' destruction, Cinder maintained her power through connections, presenting an innocent face of a powerful Gym leader, her ties to team chaos going underground through him. Together, they could rule the whole land once they got the gleefuls out of the way.
Occupation: Leader of Team Chaos
Which Team are you: Chaos
Trainer Type: Biker/Team Chaos Boss
Favorite Pokémon: Murkrow
Least Favorite Pokémon: Chansey
Partner Pokémon: Markus (Murkrow)
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