Post by Birdybot on Sept 6, 2009 4:50:22 GMT -5
I hope I is allowed to make him from a parallel universe, I thought we might help make a plot or something. You'll need to read what's in the link to understand what daemons are.
Name: Connor Kaikera
Age: 13's a decent estimate, I think.
Gender: Male
Region Born: Fallarbor Town, Hoenn
Starter Pokemon: Torchic
Second starter: Electrike
Appearance: Connor is, as you'll probably notice first thing, a Pokémorph. His DNA has been spliced with that of a Charizard, giving him a multitude of different features. That is why a lot of things are the way they are. I just couldn't resist making another 'morph.
Connor's features are nicely proportioned, his lips speaking honestly and so on. It is his eyes which are startling. They are, due to his albinoism, a shocking red, various shades of the colour dancing and swirling subject to his emotions and the lighting. If he is upset, they will turn a slightly softer shade. If he is angry, they will be fiery, and if he is happy, they will be brighter. He is not extremely pleased with his eyes; although they are deep and emotional, they are not too good at their intended purpose; sight. He usually wears contacts, but sometimes, say if he can't be bothered or has run out, he will wear a pair of thick, pale grey rimmed glasses. Without these, he can hardly see. Whenever he uses his ability with fire, they glow as though they are burning themselves.
Connor's hair is an untidy mop of scruffy chalk white. Many a time has he attempted to pull a comb through it, but it never did work. So, he tries to make lemonade out of lemons; he went for a 'rugged' look, a lock of hair in front of an eye. If it weren't for his odd colouring, he would have pulled it off extremely well. His hair hides his pointed, scaley ears, the hair hanging down to roughly his jaw line. Speaking of jaw lines, he has a thin pale scar running a quarter of the way along his before it creeps towards his throat. It barely stands out against his skin, and he doesn't tell anyone how he got it even if they notice it, but it certainly looks as though something narrowly missed slitting his throat. The reason why it doesn't stand out much is because, although it would really show up against someone with a normal shading of white skin, even more so on someone with dark skin, his skin is different. Again, thanks to the albinoism. His skin is a deathly pale, making him appear to be a paper-white ghost or extremely ill. It is rather shocking. Other than that, his skin is soft and smooth, just white as snow.
Connor is neither tall nor short, reaching around five or six feet tall. He is rather skinny, but not in the gangly, goofy way. He has a good posture and a powerful presense, a sense of authority about him despite his young age. He doesn't really care about that, however. He is not a body builder or the sort of person who goes all-out to look muscular; his network of well shaped muscles were earned by hardship. He is strong, but sometimes too strong. He isn't familiar with his own strength, leading him to be a tad clumsy at times. He often crushes things in his grip, and so is always exremely careful. His nails grow very quickly and are much like claws, sharp and pointed. His hair, however, does not grow as fast, thankfully. He cuts his nails often, but it does little to keep them tamed. They are pretty sharp, and if he knows he might need to fight soon, he will not cut them so he will have an extra weapon, not that he enjoys fighting much. Other than that, however, he somehow manages to keep them short and safe.
More impressive than his muscular figure is what casts a shadow over it, making people cringe away from him as they laybel him a freak. From the middle area of his scalp, base hidden by his hair, produces a tall spike, as you would find on a Charizard. It's scales shine and glitter a little in sunlight. The thing is a rather pale golden colour, almost white. It becomes slightly more orange when he is happy or warm, and paler if he is sad or cold. His spine has a large number of small extra segments, producing a long, flexible tail. Connor's tail is much like his head crest in colour. However, the scales are smaller and harder, offering flexability and defense. His tail is packed with muscles, allowing him to move it in any way he wants. The tip is engulfed in flame. However, unusually, due to his albinoism this flame is light blue in colour. It grows in size depending on his mood, and his tail is generally more active when he is happy. However, more interesting than the tail or the crest is the wings.
Connor's wings, when stretched, reach an eleven foot wingspan. They are bare of feathers, instead covered in tiny scales. These scales are, again, similar to that of his tail and crest. This merely forms the base structure of his wings. A thin but tough as steel stretch of elasticy light blue sking stretches out, completing each wing. His wings are thick with muscle, easily the strongest of his apendages. He can fly, true, but he wouldn't cheat by not buying the HM; you will never see him fly anywhere near a city or settlement of any kind. He hates it when people know what he is; they might try to kill him, capture him, or the like. So, even when flying out in the countryside, he prefers to fly just below the clouds, where he might be mistaken for a large bird Pokémon like Starraptor. When not alone or flying, he keeps his wings tucked tightly against his back, undetectable. If he does pull them out, for whatever reason, he might look like a 'fallen angel'; deathly pale, with mostly white wings and lovely features but peircing red eyes.
He wears cheap, old clothes for two reasons; one, he likes to keep a low profile, and two, because he can't afford any better. He often goes barefoot, but if he must, for example if he's in a swamp or town where he wouldn't fit in without shoes, he will wear flimsy sandels, the fraying straps sellotaped down to the rest of the shoe where the velcro was long gone. His legs are donned in baggy, grass stained and hole filled trousers. These are generally pale blue jeans or a pale coloured tracksuit. If they don't fit him at the waist, he'll simply tie it up with rope. He never wears long sleeved shirts, preferring those with short or no sleeves. Often white, always plain, Connor takes care with one thing; the long slits in the back of his shirts to let his wings through. He makes sure that they will be invisible when his wings are tucked in. He also does this to a light green jacket he wears if it gets too cold for him, which isn't often; as a 'morph of a Fire type, his fire can keep him warm. He carries a lightweight white backpack which holds all his posessions; a photograph of his family, a stuffed Eevee and a book of Pokémon.
Personality: Connor is not generally the sort of guy you would expect to see jabbering about something purely because he can. In fact, Connor is not the sort of guy you'd see at all. He keeps to himself, mostly, melting into the shadows at any time he wishes; generally if there's anyone suspicious looking around. Some might interpret this as cowardice and shyness, but in actual fact, Connor is far from either of these two. He only hides from danger because he is smart, and doesn't want to cause unnescessary trouble for others. Before, he has made the mistake of allowing himself to be seen, and he has never enjoyed the consequences.
Connor is intelligent. He has to be, after all, if he wishes to survive the harsh conditions he so often has to deal with. He can make do with very little at hand, his mind full of imagination, enabling him to craft tools out of mere junk. Connor, however, was only ever in the top group at school, never top. A few of his class were cleverer than him, and most of them at just one or two things. However, none of them would ever be able to understand which plants you could eat. None of them would survive a day in the wild, and he knows it. He doesn't care much for the knowledge learned at school, regarding it as junk, waste knowledge. He excels in understanding nature and so on. The two things he was top in was physics and biology. This came due to his knowledge of Pokémon, plants, and how those things work. After all, you can't fix it if you don't know how it works. He wasn't even top in PE for all his athletic abilities; catching and passing balls with raquests, hands and sticks doesn't appeal to him. Neither does kicking white and black balls in football, or playing rugby or cricket. Even the girls were better at rounders than him when they played it, at the age of about five to ten.
Connor is compassionate, kind and gentle, despite how he may act at times. He finds it easy to slip into someone's shoes; sometimes, too much so, making it a weakness. He is the kind of guy who would resist punching his worst enemy because they wouldn't like it, or adopt a Pokémon he didn't like because it looked depressed or hurt. He has learned that if you argue, shout, swear or fight people, you'd never get your own way, for people would merely hate you and wouldn't want you to get what you wanted anyway. He believes that everything can be solved by kind words and that anyone can be reasoned with. He knows that words are often more powerful than actions, and kinder too. Therefore, he is a hard one to infuriate. If ever he feels angry, he simply calms himself down. Warmth, especially fire, often helps.
However, there is one way to anger Connor, and it's pretty easy. Just insult him on his albinoism, and he'll fly at you in a rage that'll make you want to take your comment back. He can often control his anger to a minor throb of insults, but sometimes his Ho-oh genes get the better of him and he becomes uncontrollable. He will attack with all his might when angry, hitting and thumping anyone in sight. He sees this as much of a weakness, for when you loose control, you loose the fight.
Speaking of fighting, he's a rather good fighter. He isn't the sort who would simply go all-out with punches and kicks, however. Being slim and strong, agile and intelligent, he can win fights. Oh, and his Charizard genes don't hurt his chances, either. He finds his opponent's weakness, and plays to that, generally. However many times people say that it's 'cowardly to attack when you're opponent's back is turned', he doesn't care. He just knows that, in a life-and-death situation, it's best just to win no matter how you go about doing it. So, he often fights dirty, attacking pressure points to send enemy's muscles into spasm before knocking them out. However, he hates fighting, again prefering to talk his way out of things. He is good at finding loopholes, thankfully. He will only fight if it's absolutely nescessary, and always regrets doing it afterwards.
Connor is a silent child. Partly because he does not see need to speak very often, unlike most people who enjoy speaking everything that pops into their head. Partly, because he finds speech hard. Being raised by Pokémon and neglected from human contact, he does not really know much to say. He has a good vocabulary, true, he just doesn't know how to apply it. He often growls, snarls and so on on instinct.
Now, before we end out horribly short Personality section, there's a final thing you must know about Connor, regarding his Charizard Pokémorphism. Connor is a bit of a pyromaniac. He loves anything to do with fire; bright or firey colours, heat, light, the lot. He doesn't feel temperature much, which can be useful if he's stuck in a blizzard or desert, but annoying if everyone's sunbathing on the beach. However, he feels he more than makes up for it with his special abilities. He has somewhat decent influence over fire. Nothing at all like what a full Charizard can do, but still, it's something. He can't influence anything larger than the sort of fire you'd get in a fireplace, but he's still proud of his ability. He can create sparks from nothing. He can set small objects on fire, such as leaves and things, which he can use to set larger objects of fire. He can create fireballs. He can tame small areas off fire at a time, so someone might be able to not be burned with it. He can even shape fire, which is how he makes his fireballs. He loves this, and practices it often. However, he is unable to do this in public, so instead does it in secret, to keep his ability hidden from people.
History: In another world, one where everyone has daemon, named Enera, there was the village of Fallarbor, Hoenn, containing a large manor house. The lord and lady of the manor were named Flora and Marcus Kaikera. They were well known across the region as extremely rich, generous people. They had much say in what went on around the region, and the people loved them dearly. Hundreds of important people came to Fallarbor every year to ask the Kaikeras for advice, and the village grew in wealth, become a town and then a larger town, but never a city. The Kaikeras, of course, needed heirs to their power and riches, and so had three children. These children were all educated heavily in every manner possible; Ponyta riding, fencing, trekking and so on were learned on top of the usual subject.
There was, however, a forth Kaikera child. This one was one no-one knew about. Oh, half the people who ever set foot in the Kaikera's manor knew he exsited, but only four people in the enite world of Enera knew he was the rightfull heir to the Keikera's riches; Marcus, Flora, and a servant who had brought him up, one Daisy Barl. The boy's name was Connor.
When Flora Kaikera became pregnant, the entire region celebrated along with her. It was big and great news; the Kaikeras would be able to stay with them even after Flora and Marcus passed on! There was even more excitement when it was discovered the child was to be a boy; by tradition, it is the first born male who takes over after his parents. The region waited with bated breath for the birth as Flora became closer and closer to the day which would mark her as nine months pregnant. A week before Connor was due to be born, Flora felt she was giving birth. Ordering privacy, she gave birth in the company of her husband and a servant who doubled as a doctor, Daisy Barl.
Flora Kaikera lay in bed, panting. She could hear the wail of her baby, who had taken his first breath just one hour ago. Her husband was squeezing her hand, telling her over and over that it was all right, there was just a complication. Daisy leaned over and whispered something which Flora could not hear. "Wouldn't it be kinder to tell her he didn't make it?" she had asked. Marcus growled. "No! That would only make it worse." he said. Flora looked puzzled. "Why, Marcus? What's wrong? Why can't I see little Connor!" she demanded.
Marcus sighed. "Flora... Connor is..." he began, feeling grim hands place something heavy in his arms. Little Connor. The child was now sleeping peacefully, his body- including mop of hair- except for his face concealed by a blanket which was wrapped around him like a bundle. His eyes were closed. At first, Flora thought that the thing which was wrong was something to do with his daemon; she couldn't see her anywhere. Speaking of which, she couldn't see Marcus' Butterfree daemon, Bella, anywhere. Her own daemon, the Persian formed Atania, moaned softly, moving into her arms, closer to her human's steadily beating heart. Flora's lips opened. "Where's his daemon? Marcus, what's wrong?" she sounded stern as well as desperate now, as though they were trying her patience. Atania's lips pulled back, a soft growl riverbrating from his throat.
Marcus winced. "Come on, then, Bella. Bring out Vivime." he said, closing his eyes as though what he about to do hurt. Flora's eyes widened. What was really that bad? Then she gasped, her hand flying up to her mouth as the Butterfree which was her husband's soul stepped up to her, presenting her with her son's daemon. She wished then that humans were allowed to touch other human's daemons, for this daemon was quite extraordinary; the daemon whose chest was rising slowly up and down in Bella's stubby arms was an Eevee. Not too unusual, but what was unusual, however, was the colouring. Her fur was stark white. Atania swallowed, taking Vivime, Connor's daemon, from Bella. He stroked her gently, and the Eevee's eyes opened. As did Connor's, the connection between child and soul binding them in conciousness. Atania hissed, dropping the daemon like it was poison; their eyes were both stark red.
Connor began crying as his daemon hit the bed. Marcus looked at Flora, hurt in his eyes, as he covered up his son's mouth. "Flora. We can't let anyone know that the child of the great Kaikeras is an albino. It would ruin us! What should we do?!" he babbled, his daemon fluttering about in distress. Fora nodded, pressing her shaking finger to his lips. "I think there's only one thing we can do, Marcus. We can't let anyone know about Connor. We have to say I had a miscarrage, or something, and... abandon him." she asked, looking at her servant with pleading eyes. The woman, face laced with indecision and regret, nodded slowly. And so, Connor never knew who he truly was. The region slowed, thouroughly disappointed. The tears the Kaikeras cried were real. And meanwhile, their baby was tossed into the wilderness.
Once all mutterings of Flora's 'failure' to have a child had died down, which only took a couple of months, it was discovered that Flora was pregnant again, with yet another boy. Daisy did not think this too wise. Just a month before Connor's first birthday, the baby was born. He was an ordinary, healthy baby. His eyes were a deep sea blue, his hair a stubborn scruff of brown. His name was Jem. People from all over Sinnoh now celebrated for real, and the now town, of Rekis, began a festival which would be held annually, know as Kaikera Day, celebrating the birth of the 'heir' to the Kaikera manor, power and fortune. Connor was never able to see his baby brother.
In the years following, Flora Kaikera had two more children, both girls, twins named Teri and Keri. Connor never saw them either. This is what happened to him, while his siblings were born and grew up.
A woman walked silently through the forest, and kept on checking behind her to make sure no-one was following her. Her Blissey daemon was nervous, and kept reminding her that she shouldn't be doing this. However, each time, she shushed him. In her arms was a baby, the baby Connor. He was looking directly into her eyes, a puzzled expression on his face. Vivime was in the Blissey's arms. Daisy Barl set Connor down on the ground, and cried a tear. "Connor... I hope you'll survive. I don't want to leave you to die. Survive, Connor. I know you can do it." she pleaded to him. The baby didn't understand her, of course. She ran, weeping, from the forest.
That was the last time Connor would see a human for the next four years.
An hour later, Connor began to cry. But this was not how babies normally cry; this was the endless sobs, torn from his heart as he knew he faced death. These were the tears of the end. Vivime was barely able to stand up. She had become a Torchic to try and keep Connor warm, but they would die of other reasons. Hunger, thirst. It was hopeless.
Or was it? A Pokémon heard the sobbing, and let out a long, eerie howl. Connor heard it, and instinct kicked in. The month old baby answered the howl, although it was more of a wailing sob. The Pokémon dashed towards the baby at that.
It had heard suffering. It was inhumane, no Pokémon or human should ever suffer like that. And it was the cry of a child, too. His paws beat the earth harder, faster, breath rising in misty pants around him. His eyes were red, too, his fur white. And yet he was not an albino. The Absol bounded, following the never ending cries to find Connor. He whined, curiously sniffing the child, who screamed louder than ever. No. That was not what he was to do. Absol whined sadly. What could he do to help this child? He raised his scarred muzzle and howled, a great summoning howl. He heard scattered answers, and paws began to raced towards him. Soon three other Absol and two cubs were sniffing at the baby, who had fallen asleep. Finally, one lifted her head.
She was a young female. She looked to the other members of the pack; the weakest, an old male, the Alpha female and her two cubs, and finally the Alpha male, who had summoned her. She flinched as she looked into his eyes, but held strong. ~I know what will help, Alpha. I... I must take him as my own cub. Loka needs to save her care for her own cubs, and...~ her voice trailed off as the Alpha, Scar, smiled. She beamed, gently picking up Connor and Vivime in her muzzle. The pack made their way back to their den.
And so, Connor and Vivime were raised by Absol. They grew up with the two cubs, and learned the ways of the Pokémon. They had no idea that other humans even existed, having never known a life other than this one. They moved on all fours, Lapped up water from a stream with their tongues, and learned to hunt. They even spoke Pokémon, since that was the only language they'd ever heard, and their 'mother', Abby, had made Connor clothes of sorts (just sheets wrapped around him so tightly it might be his own skin) from the fur of meals, since he did not have fur of his own to keep him warm. They lived a good life. Well, that is, until Connor was four years old.
~Connor, quick! We must get away!~ Abby's urgent voice prompted, her muzzle nudging the child, fear in her eyes. Connor blinked up at her curiously. ~Why?~ he barked. She shook her head. ~No time to explain! RUN!~ she yelled. He understood, and obeyed, racing on all fours. He was almost as fast as the Absol cubs. Vivime was in an Absol form, darting ahead. However, Connor suddenly felt sick, and looked up to see her biting and tearing, changing forms flick-flick-flick in the cruel arms of a Primape. He wailed, then snarled. A loud, sorrowful howl escaped him, but no-one came. Why? Where was everybody? He was picked up like a rag doll by a strange, furless Pokémon (he had come to think that his skins were his own fur, for Abby only changed them in his sleep when he was too big for them) and tossed into a cage inside a van. The door was locked, and he roared, ripping and tearing at the bars. Next to him, a similar thing was going on with Vivime. He caught a glimpse of a man clad in red being knocked to the ground by Scar before the door of the van slammed shut, and with a nervous scream the driver put his foot down. Connor was leaving his pack forever.
He sat there, huddled in the darkness, for hours. He was so scared he was shaking. Vivime whispered comforting words to him, but it was no use. He barked and growled at the driver, but he paid no attension. ~Vivime, what is this?~ he asked.
~I don't know.~ was his reply. ~What were those things?~ he asked. Once again, his answer was ~I don't know.~
It turned out that Connor had been kidnapped by Team Magma, and had been transported in the back of a van to the building, where he was kept in a concrete enclosure with a bowl of water and a dish of food. The boss, Max, came as soon as he'd heard news of this child. He wanted to try something out.
The man was like all the others. Weak and soft and pink, dressed in flimsy red stuff. Connor bared his teeth, Vivime's fur bristling. She was an Absol at the moment. This man seemed to have power. He turned to another man, and said something Connor couldn't understand. "So, this is the child?" it angered Connor, and he gave a warning growl.
Max chuckled, turning to him. "Ah, yes, I see. Completely wild, and an albino, too. That might be interesting when he's a Pokémorph. It's so great that we can finally get closer to making the ultimate fire being to serve us. I say we inject the DNA tomorrow, before he has a chance to become... tame." he smirked cruelly, turned and left.
You see, the plan of Team Magma was to create a being of fire to serve them. They had made several Fire type Pokémorphs before, but they'd all been too human to pose any threat to anyone. However, since Connor had been raised by Absol and didn't even know humans existed, he would be perfect. Stronger, better. The following day, his water was spiked with sleeping solution, and the moment he was out, he was dragged roughly to a room. The room was covered in scientific equipment; cruel needles, scaples and jars of strange substances. There was a table to which Connor was chained. Next to this operating table was a variety of jars, all laybelled with various Pokémon names. The stuff inside was the same colour as the type of the Pokémon. Mostly, they were firey colours; 'Ponyta', 'Torchic', 'Vulpix'. The scientist brandishing that fatefull needle made the greatest decision in Connor's life. He thought about the various pros and cons, then dipped the siringe in the jar laybelled 'Charizard' and injected it into the sleeping boy's arm. That was all that was needed. Connor's life would never be the same again. His fate had been sealed, and there was no going back.
When Connor awakened, he was lying on a lumpy mattress. He groaned, reaching out to touch Vivime. However, he couldn't. His arm... was so heavy. So very heavy. He couldn't move! And his body... he felt so hot. He was on fire! Every inch of his body seared in burning pain, but he couldn't do more than lie there. And to make things worse, he couldn't see or touch his daemon, his soul. He could hear her, however, sleeping on his chest. He was also aware of an annoying bleeping thing next to him and a strange clear plastic thing over his mouth. The same mouth felt dry as he realised what the machines were. Life support. They were the only thing keeping him alive. With that, he was out again.
He awoke. It seemed like a mere second later, but in actual fact, a full week had passed. This time, it was worse; he couldn't even open his eyes. He could only hear. "Gerald, see how things look on the heart rate moniter? It isn't too good, is it. He's been out for a week. Only recently has his coma come to a stable state. He can probably hear us." a man was saying. Another man's voice came. "But he's the toughest... I don't think the Charizard DNA is mixing well. See the way the scales are forming? And his daemon, look how shallow her breathing is. Perhaps we ought to take her away." the other man said. The other nodded. "That would certainly be... interesting. Come on, pick it up. He won't know." his grin could be heard through his voice. Connor felt like crying. It was the greatest crime, to touch another's daemon. And to take it away... did they mean forever? His heart rate reached a peak height before he fell unconiouss again.
Connor's transformation from human into Charizard Pokémorph was a long, painful, risk taking and dangerous one. He spend over a year in his coma, rising in and out of conciousness. When he was conciouss, he could hear and feel the intense pain of his DNA rearranging itself. The only thing he had to do was listen to the scientists, and, from that, he learned to understand people. He had no control over anything, and longed for the simplicity of his soul. He wanted to feel Vivime's warm body against his, stroke her fur. He didn't even know where his soul, his life partner, was.
Eventually, he found he was growing stronger. He could feel the power growing within him, and wondered at times if it would be enough to wake him from his coma, but his instinct told him that unless he waited, his transformation would be wrong. An error in his DNA structure couldn't be good, right? So he waited for, as I said, a year and a bit after he fell into said coma. Eventually, he felt the power inside him might explode. Something amazing happened. Something which sent all the Team Magma scientists into hyperventalation and such. His finger twitched.
Just that simple movement had a huge drain on his energy, and his head throbbed as he heard a scientist yell the news. As he heard them gather around, his cracked lips parted a tiny amount. He groaned. The first sound he had made in over a year had been emitted. He licked his lips, then paused, panting. No. He mustn't try anything yet. A scientist to his right yelled, "Hey, Boss! He's waking up! A10-L9B is waking up!" he called, the sound of running high heels approaching with these words. A strong scent of heavy floral perfume entered his nostrils, and his eyelids twitched, before flickering open. Everything seemed all fuzzy. He groaned again, hearing himself form the words, "Vivime. Where's my daemon?!" when no-one answered, he stood up abruptly, blinking hard and putting on his rather dusty glasses. He swayed dangerously, black spots appearing before his eyes.
"Urgggh..." he moaned, clutching his churning stomach. He shouldn't have ripped those life support machines away so quickly. The scientists were standing there, stunned, their mouths hanging open. Connor imagined a fly crawling in one. He glared at the tallest one, the one called 'Boss'. "You! Give me my daemon!" he screamed, holding out the palm of his hand. His eyes flashed a firey colour, not that he knew. He just felt power, anger, hatred, pain. This man had taken away his home, his pack, a year of his life, his freedom, and now his soul. What else had he stolen? That question was soon answered. As his hand glowed red, sparks dancing from it, he gasped. He looked behind him... and would have fainted had he not been out for the last year. Extending from his back were great white wings like the a Charizard's, just white. Hm. He'd taken away his humanity, too.
"What the...? What did you do? Why can't you leave me alone?!" he cried out, tears running in a steady stream down his ghostly pale cheeks. The boss man rolled his eyes. "I'll leave our greatest weapon with you. I have a team to run." he said casually as he walked away. Connor glared at them all. The scientists cringed away, their daemons nuzzling them or whining. Connor wiped away his tears. "I'm asking you! Give. Me. My. Daemon!" he roared, blood pounding in his ears. He knew she was here, he could feel her; feel her screamed, attempting to come to him. "How would you like it? How would you feel? If I were to pick up your daemon with my bare hands and hide it? And you never saw them again? You wanna know how that feels? I do. Give her BACK!" he screamed, this time feeling his hands burn with a warmth. But it was a good warmth. Without quite realising what he was doing, he raised his palms again, shooting a small fireball at a scientist. The man fell to the ground, screaming. Not dead, just out cold.
Connor gasped, breath coming in pants as he looked at his hands. There was no difference to them, but what had he done? What was he turning into; some sort of freaky monster? Oh, man, this was not good. He needed Vivime, needed her hugs, reassuring words. She was his soul, his guide, his lifelong friend, after all. The scientists, including the one he had knocked down, who was just getting up, seemed excited. He heard them muttering to each other.
"Powerful, very strong..."
"More successful than others..."
"Just came out of a coma, too..."
"Brilliant weapon, credit to Team Magma..."
"Yes, he'd help us capture the world..."
"Dissect his brain..."
"... no feelings, we should keep his daemon away forever..."
Connor had heard enough. He needed to get back Vivime. If he didn't, who knew how many more evil deeds he would commit without thinking? He just needed a diversion, one to get everyone distracted for long enough for him to escape. Well, his heart felt as though someone had ripped it out and replaced it with longing. He longed for his daemon. He knew what a good diversion would be, if the scientists were so interested in his powers. He would show them his powers. "I... I t-think I c-can do more s-s-stuff." he stammered, the five-year-old's voice shaking with nerves and longing. He concentrated on a cardboard box, imagining it being lit up with dancing flames. He felt an incredible sap on his energy, and knew because of it and the way the scientists gazed at it, amazed, that he had done it. He turned the fire several colours in different places; green, blue, red, purple, for good measure. That should buy him time. He raced out the same door the boss man had entered and exited through, following his aching heart to his soul.
Eventually, after much wondering about and making the bond with his daemon cause him pain to point him in the right direction, he heard a shout. ~Connor! It's Vivime! Vivi!~ he heard. It was Vivime! He forced his legs to move, racing down the corridor as adrenalin fueled his veins. He felt his heart pump in his mouth, gasping as his daemon came into view for the first time in a year. A wave of strong emotion caught him, and, although happy and relieved, he burst into tears. He heard Vivime sobbing, too, as he pushed his fingers through the bars of her cage to try and reach her. He couldn't. "Vivime... I can't reach you. Be something larger so you'll touch the bars at the top of the cage." he pleaded. However, Vivme shook her head. ~I can't, Connor. It's made of some material which stops any daemon changing shape.~ she whimpered, leaping up. They still couldn't connect, boy and Zigzagoon daemon.
Connor sighed, cradling the cage. He was crying again, crying because this was as close as he would ever get to his daemon. He hated the scientist so much, hated them more than he hated anything else. With that hatred, he felt his hands grow warm again, that tingly sensation hint something to him. His firey ability! The new one! Of course; it would set his soul free! He warned Vivime, then burned the lock, watching impatiently as the barred cage roof swung slowly open. Since Vivime was still unable to change or leap high enough, he tipped the cage upside down, spilling her into his arms. She instantly became a Flareon, nuzzling him, grunting happily, licking his face. He laughed, his heart whole again. It seemed as though he had progressed in life, too, he thought sadly; Vivime was taking on an evolved form, something she rarely used to do.
Footsteps ruined the moment. A group of scientists; Connor could hear their angry shouts. Vivime snarled, becoming a fiersome Arcanine. She started racing as fast as she could down the corridor, and Connor followed her. As a human (sort of), he was much slower than his daemon with the form of one of the fastest Pokémon in the world, and so Vivime had to keep waiting for him to catch up. In the end, she became a Tailow and fluttered about him, urging him on. He could see doors... sunlight, for the first time in over a year... he was almost there...
He made it! Racing out onto freshly cut grass, Connor heard alarms ringing furiously in the background. But that was all behind him now. Laughing, his hopes were only slightly dampened by the tall walls topped with barbed wire. That wouldn't stop him! Before he realised what he was doing, his huge wings expanded and he leaped into the air, pushing them down and feeling himself rising. Two bullets whooshed past him, and Vivime trilled a warning. He swallowed, wobbling in the air. He now realized what exactly he was doing, and he didn't perticually like it. He rose higher, turning right instead of left before he quickly corrected himself. He had now idea how to fly. He could feel his wings move, and they effected him, but all in all, he didn't know. Vivime, a more experienced flyer, shouted instructions to him, which helped him make progress. Although slow and dangerously wobbly, he eventually managed to make it to the nearby forest before he fell with the bang of a third gun.
He collapsed in a heap on the grass, screaming in agony. He couldn't hear the men; they must have got scared that they'd hit the creation they'd spent years on. They'd get fired. They'd be beated. Connor hoped so. The toddler was the saddest he'd ever been, cradling Vivime pittifully as blood dribbled from a wound in his arm. Finally, his daemon went limp, his eyes closed as he collapsed.
When he woke, he was yet again in a new place. However, this one seemed nice. He could hear a calming, warm fire crackling merrily from somewhere, and he was lying on a bed which felt as comfy as clouds to him. Vivime was beside him, yawning, and his arm was bandaged and in a sling. He was wearing simple clothes, but he didn't mind the fact that he was wearing them; he'd realized he was (or used to be) a human while in his coma. He grunted, trying to get up. He was too weak. Urgh! He was sick of being too weak to do anything!
He looked to one side as he heard a door open. A smiling, kindly woman entered, sitting down at his bedside. Her daemon was a Blissey, and she looked oddly familiar. "Hello, little boy. You gave us quite a scare there. Who did this to you? Who'd dare shoot a five year old?" she asked.
Connor smiled for the first time in years. "I am Connor. My daemon is Vivime. Team Magma caught me from the Absol and made me Charizard like. I'm scared. I have strange abilities and I don't know what's going on. Please, I'm sick of being the looser!" he said, sobbing, his smiled gone. The woman sucked in her breath.
"Connor, huh? I remem- I mean, hello, Connor. My name is Daisy. Don't worry, Connor. We'll find out what's going on." Daisy reassured him.
And that's just what happened. Daisy took care of Connor. She lived on the outskirts of Fallarbor, and had discovered him when he'd fallen in the nearby forest. She sent him to school, and he practiced his abilities as a Pokémorph, although he was often scolded for it. School was worse. Everyone stared at him, even the teachers. People treated him as though he weren't human. It grew worse when he moved up from the tiny, friendly elementary school to the larger academy. They did not know of his powers, merely teasing him for his appearance. He longed to show them what he could really do, but he knew it was for the best that they remained oblivious. However, one day, Daisy let it slip that he'd once taken residance in the Kaikera manor. She hadn't stated why, however, but Connor could guess.
And with that, Connor grabbed his daemon tightly with both hands, taking off with his powerful wings. He soared high, wingtips brushing the clouds on every upwards stroke. He cut his way through the air. When he could see the Kaikera manor, he landed where no humans would see, and walked on foot up to the building, a lump forming in his throat. This was where he had spent his childhood. He was coming home. He wondered if the would remember him. With a shaking hand, he rang the doorbell.
A woman answered it. Without a doubt, this was Flora Kaikera. She seemed older than Connor had expected. Her eyes widened as she saw Connor. Connor's pale face lit up; did she remember him?
"Hello, guest. I am Flora Kaikera. Welcome to our manor." she spoke formally. Connor's heart sank. That was a no, she didn't. Probably because of the crest and tail, and the years. He probably looked extremely different. "Can I come in, Mrs. Kaikera?" he asked in a small voice. She nodded. "Of course, poor soul!" she cried, leading him in. Marcus was in the hallway. She walked over to him, and he muttered something in her ear. "I've got the strangest feeling I know that boy from somewhere." he wondered aloud. Flora nodded; she felt it too. "Poor lost child, what is your name?"
Connor looked her straight in the eye. Might as well not hold it in. "Connor. Connor... Kaikera, I think." he spoke, his words strong and confident. At that same instant, there was much of a rush; Flora had fainted.
An hour later, Connor, Flora, Marcus, Jem, Keri, Teri and Daisy were dining at a table. Connor was wolfing down his food; it was the first proper meal he'd had in ages. From the little babies Connor had heard about, they had grown into a little gentleman and two young ladies. Jem had progressed from chubby three-year-old to slightly plump twelve-year-old, and the twins weren't wailing one-year-olds, they were polite and pretty ten-year-olds. Connor, of course, had had the most change. He had looked like the average baby other than being an albino, and now he was handsome, skin and bone, and a Pokémorph.
"How? Connor, what happened?" Flora asked. Connor glared at her, Vivime hissing angrily. She winced. Her fault? Connor explained his story, and a wave of guilt washed over Flora. "Connor! I'm so sorry, if I'd have known what they were-" she began, but was cut off. Marcus was speaking. "No, it's our fault. We hid Connor our of shame, and needed to send him away." he said. Connor smiled. It seemed he was finally being accepted, thirteen years after he had been born.
However, his strange adventures weren't about to stop. He spent six months with his true family, then something which, when scientists (nice ones) discovered a month later, they were baffled and named them after the Kaikeras. In that world, at least.
Connor was relaxed, happier than had ever been in his life. His stomach was full, and he belonged. The people of Sinnoh, Enera, knew him as a Kaikera and he was loved. He had Vivime, lying at his side in her Eevee form. Then, suddenly, he felt a shudder. Clutching Vivime's quivering form tightly, he looked about. Nothing. Hm. Must have just been a little tremour. Then he felt it again. He peered out the window; odd. Although pictures had been knocked off their rails here, there was no sign outside that anything had happened. He was a little worried now. What if Team Magma had somehow managed to enter and were about to capture him? He hoped not. He really hoped not.
Then came the largest tremour of them all, again, nothing happening outside his bedroom, and a thin crack of light appeared, hovering in the centre of his room. His eyes widened, and he made for the door. Before he made it out, however, the crack widened in a split second, drawing him and Vivime inside before closing up forever. He screamed, falling through a strange vortex, before landing with a thud on soft grass. Where was he?
Connor discovered that he was in a land called Airore, a mistake. It must have been a mistake that he was there, then. He sighed, trailing through, trying to find someone. He hasn't found a person yet, but, behind where he landed, was a Pokémon Lab. One for new trainers to start. That, of course, naturally gave him an idea. A new world, a new him; he would become a Pokémon Trainer.
Schools Attended: Fallarbor Elementary, Fallarbor Academy
Likes: Fire
Warmth
Pokémon (obviously)
Freedom
Friends
Dragons
Pheonixes
Wolves
Dislikes: Bullies
Hatred
Ice
Cold
Captivity
Evil Teams, especially Team Magma
Family:
Flora Kaikera - Mother
Marcus Kaikera - Father
Jem Kaikera - Brother
Keri and Teri Kaikera - Twin sisters
Secret Sentence: -pokes other character- I already read the rules and proof is with Sulteron! It was something said by Tyson, anyway. -too lazy to get it again-
Other: Well, since he had a daemon, I felt I should probably state what she's like.
Name: Vivime (Vi-vi-meh), sometimes called Viv
Favourite forms: Pidgeot, Absol, Lucario, Eevelutions, any Fire type
Appearance: Although it is hard to describe a shape-shifter, Viv does have some distinguishable features. Thanks to her human's albinoism, not matter what form she is in, her skin/fur/whatever is always pure white, her eyes a glittering red. Where a Pokémon has two or more colours, she will simply be tinted a colour.
Personality: Vivime is kind hearted, always putting others before herself. She is honest, sometimes brutally so. She likes to investigate things, occasionally letting her curiousity get the better of her. Like all daemons, she supports anything her human does, although she often convinses him to go with more sensible options. She is sensible and likes to play safe, 'just in case'. Connor constantly reminds her that there isn't much that could go wrong, but she always sticks with what she thinks is right, a very determined daemon.
Name: Connor Kaikera
Age: 13's a decent estimate, I think.
Gender: Male
Region Born: Fallarbor Town, Hoenn
Starter Pokemon: Torchic
Second starter: Electrike
Appearance: Connor is, as you'll probably notice first thing, a Pokémorph. His DNA has been spliced with that of a Charizard, giving him a multitude of different features. That is why a lot of things are the way they are. I just couldn't resist making another 'morph.
Connor's features are nicely proportioned, his lips speaking honestly and so on. It is his eyes which are startling. They are, due to his albinoism, a shocking red, various shades of the colour dancing and swirling subject to his emotions and the lighting. If he is upset, they will turn a slightly softer shade. If he is angry, they will be fiery, and if he is happy, they will be brighter. He is not extremely pleased with his eyes; although they are deep and emotional, they are not too good at their intended purpose; sight. He usually wears contacts, but sometimes, say if he can't be bothered or has run out, he will wear a pair of thick, pale grey rimmed glasses. Without these, he can hardly see. Whenever he uses his ability with fire, they glow as though they are burning themselves.
Connor's hair is an untidy mop of scruffy chalk white. Many a time has he attempted to pull a comb through it, but it never did work. So, he tries to make lemonade out of lemons; he went for a 'rugged' look, a lock of hair in front of an eye. If it weren't for his odd colouring, he would have pulled it off extremely well. His hair hides his pointed, scaley ears, the hair hanging down to roughly his jaw line. Speaking of jaw lines, he has a thin pale scar running a quarter of the way along his before it creeps towards his throat. It barely stands out against his skin, and he doesn't tell anyone how he got it even if they notice it, but it certainly looks as though something narrowly missed slitting his throat. The reason why it doesn't stand out much is because, although it would really show up against someone with a normal shading of white skin, even more so on someone with dark skin, his skin is different. Again, thanks to the albinoism. His skin is a deathly pale, making him appear to be a paper-white ghost or extremely ill. It is rather shocking. Other than that, his skin is soft and smooth, just white as snow.
Connor is neither tall nor short, reaching around five or six feet tall. He is rather skinny, but not in the gangly, goofy way. He has a good posture and a powerful presense, a sense of authority about him despite his young age. He doesn't really care about that, however. He is not a body builder or the sort of person who goes all-out to look muscular; his network of well shaped muscles were earned by hardship. He is strong, but sometimes too strong. He isn't familiar with his own strength, leading him to be a tad clumsy at times. He often crushes things in his grip, and so is always exremely careful. His nails grow very quickly and are much like claws, sharp and pointed. His hair, however, does not grow as fast, thankfully. He cuts his nails often, but it does little to keep them tamed. They are pretty sharp, and if he knows he might need to fight soon, he will not cut them so he will have an extra weapon, not that he enjoys fighting much. Other than that, however, he somehow manages to keep them short and safe.
More impressive than his muscular figure is what casts a shadow over it, making people cringe away from him as they laybel him a freak. From the middle area of his scalp, base hidden by his hair, produces a tall spike, as you would find on a Charizard. It's scales shine and glitter a little in sunlight. The thing is a rather pale golden colour, almost white. It becomes slightly more orange when he is happy or warm, and paler if he is sad or cold. His spine has a large number of small extra segments, producing a long, flexible tail. Connor's tail is much like his head crest in colour. However, the scales are smaller and harder, offering flexability and defense. His tail is packed with muscles, allowing him to move it in any way he wants. The tip is engulfed in flame. However, unusually, due to his albinoism this flame is light blue in colour. It grows in size depending on his mood, and his tail is generally more active when he is happy. However, more interesting than the tail or the crest is the wings.
Connor's wings, when stretched, reach an eleven foot wingspan. They are bare of feathers, instead covered in tiny scales. These scales are, again, similar to that of his tail and crest. This merely forms the base structure of his wings. A thin but tough as steel stretch of elasticy light blue sking stretches out, completing each wing. His wings are thick with muscle, easily the strongest of his apendages. He can fly, true, but he wouldn't cheat by not buying the HM; you will never see him fly anywhere near a city or settlement of any kind. He hates it when people know what he is; they might try to kill him, capture him, or the like. So, even when flying out in the countryside, he prefers to fly just below the clouds, where he might be mistaken for a large bird Pokémon like Starraptor. When not alone or flying, he keeps his wings tucked tightly against his back, undetectable. If he does pull them out, for whatever reason, he might look like a 'fallen angel'; deathly pale, with mostly white wings and lovely features but peircing red eyes.
He wears cheap, old clothes for two reasons; one, he likes to keep a low profile, and two, because he can't afford any better. He often goes barefoot, but if he must, for example if he's in a swamp or town where he wouldn't fit in without shoes, he will wear flimsy sandels, the fraying straps sellotaped down to the rest of the shoe where the velcro was long gone. His legs are donned in baggy, grass stained and hole filled trousers. These are generally pale blue jeans or a pale coloured tracksuit. If they don't fit him at the waist, he'll simply tie it up with rope. He never wears long sleeved shirts, preferring those with short or no sleeves. Often white, always plain, Connor takes care with one thing; the long slits in the back of his shirts to let his wings through. He makes sure that they will be invisible when his wings are tucked in. He also does this to a light green jacket he wears if it gets too cold for him, which isn't often; as a 'morph of a Fire type, his fire can keep him warm. He carries a lightweight white backpack which holds all his posessions; a photograph of his family, a stuffed Eevee and a book of Pokémon.
Personality: Connor is not generally the sort of guy you would expect to see jabbering about something purely because he can. In fact, Connor is not the sort of guy you'd see at all. He keeps to himself, mostly, melting into the shadows at any time he wishes; generally if there's anyone suspicious looking around. Some might interpret this as cowardice and shyness, but in actual fact, Connor is far from either of these two. He only hides from danger because he is smart, and doesn't want to cause unnescessary trouble for others. Before, he has made the mistake of allowing himself to be seen, and he has never enjoyed the consequences.
Connor is intelligent. He has to be, after all, if he wishes to survive the harsh conditions he so often has to deal with. He can make do with very little at hand, his mind full of imagination, enabling him to craft tools out of mere junk. Connor, however, was only ever in the top group at school, never top. A few of his class were cleverer than him, and most of them at just one or two things. However, none of them would ever be able to understand which plants you could eat. None of them would survive a day in the wild, and he knows it. He doesn't care much for the knowledge learned at school, regarding it as junk, waste knowledge. He excels in understanding nature and so on. The two things he was top in was physics and biology. This came due to his knowledge of Pokémon, plants, and how those things work. After all, you can't fix it if you don't know how it works. He wasn't even top in PE for all his athletic abilities; catching and passing balls with raquests, hands and sticks doesn't appeal to him. Neither does kicking white and black balls in football, or playing rugby or cricket. Even the girls were better at rounders than him when they played it, at the age of about five to ten.
Connor is compassionate, kind and gentle, despite how he may act at times. He finds it easy to slip into someone's shoes; sometimes, too much so, making it a weakness. He is the kind of guy who would resist punching his worst enemy because they wouldn't like it, or adopt a Pokémon he didn't like because it looked depressed or hurt. He has learned that if you argue, shout, swear or fight people, you'd never get your own way, for people would merely hate you and wouldn't want you to get what you wanted anyway. He believes that everything can be solved by kind words and that anyone can be reasoned with. He knows that words are often more powerful than actions, and kinder too. Therefore, he is a hard one to infuriate. If ever he feels angry, he simply calms himself down. Warmth, especially fire, often helps.
However, there is one way to anger Connor, and it's pretty easy. Just insult him on his albinoism, and he'll fly at you in a rage that'll make you want to take your comment back. He can often control his anger to a minor throb of insults, but sometimes his Ho-oh genes get the better of him and he becomes uncontrollable. He will attack with all his might when angry, hitting and thumping anyone in sight. He sees this as much of a weakness, for when you loose control, you loose the fight.
Speaking of fighting, he's a rather good fighter. He isn't the sort who would simply go all-out with punches and kicks, however. Being slim and strong, agile and intelligent, he can win fights. Oh, and his Charizard genes don't hurt his chances, either. He finds his opponent's weakness, and plays to that, generally. However many times people say that it's 'cowardly to attack when you're opponent's back is turned', he doesn't care. He just knows that, in a life-and-death situation, it's best just to win no matter how you go about doing it. So, he often fights dirty, attacking pressure points to send enemy's muscles into spasm before knocking them out. However, he hates fighting, again prefering to talk his way out of things. He is good at finding loopholes, thankfully. He will only fight if it's absolutely nescessary, and always regrets doing it afterwards.
Connor is a silent child. Partly because he does not see need to speak very often, unlike most people who enjoy speaking everything that pops into their head. Partly, because he finds speech hard. Being raised by Pokémon and neglected from human contact, he does not really know much to say. He has a good vocabulary, true, he just doesn't know how to apply it. He often growls, snarls and so on on instinct.
Now, before we end out horribly short Personality section, there's a final thing you must know about Connor, regarding his Charizard Pokémorphism. Connor is a bit of a pyromaniac. He loves anything to do with fire; bright or firey colours, heat, light, the lot. He doesn't feel temperature much, which can be useful if he's stuck in a blizzard or desert, but annoying if everyone's sunbathing on the beach. However, he feels he more than makes up for it with his special abilities. He has somewhat decent influence over fire. Nothing at all like what a full Charizard can do, but still, it's something. He can't influence anything larger than the sort of fire you'd get in a fireplace, but he's still proud of his ability. He can create sparks from nothing. He can set small objects on fire, such as leaves and things, which he can use to set larger objects of fire. He can create fireballs. He can tame small areas off fire at a time, so someone might be able to not be burned with it. He can even shape fire, which is how he makes his fireballs. He loves this, and practices it often. However, he is unable to do this in public, so instead does it in secret, to keep his ability hidden from people.
History: In another world, one where everyone has daemon, named Enera, there was the village of Fallarbor, Hoenn, containing a large manor house. The lord and lady of the manor were named Flora and Marcus Kaikera. They were well known across the region as extremely rich, generous people. They had much say in what went on around the region, and the people loved them dearly. Hundreds of important people came to Fallarbor every year to ask the Kaikeras for advice, and the village grew in wealth, become a town and then a larger town, but never a city. The Kaikeras, of course, needed heirs to their power and riches, and so had three children. These children were all educated heavily in every manner possible; Ponyta riding, fencing, trekking and so on were learned on top of the usual subject.
There was, however, a forth Kaikera child. This one was one no-one knew about. Oh, half the people who ever set foot in the Kaikera's manor knew he exsited, but only four people in the enite world of Enera knew he was the rightfull heir to the Keikera's riches; Marcus, Flora, and a servant who had brought him up, one Daisy Barl. The boy's name was Connor.
When Flora Kaikera became pregnant, the entire region celebrated along with her. It was big and great news; the Kaikeras would be able to stay with them even after Flora and Marcus passed on! There was even more excitement when it was discovered the child was to be a boy; by tradition, it is the first born male who takes over after his parents. The region waited with bated breath for the birth as Flora became closer and closer to the day which would mark her as nine months pregnant. A week before Connor was due to be born, Flora felt she was giving birth. Ordering privacy, she gave birth in the company of her husband and a servant who doubled as a doctor, Daisy Barl.
Flora Kaikera lay in bed, panting. She could hear the wail of her baby, who had taken his first breath just one hour ago. Her husband was squeezing her hand, telling her over and over that it was all right, there was just a complication. Daisy leaned over and whispered something which Flora could not hear. "Wouldn't it be kinder to tell her he didn't make it?" she had asked. Marcus growled. "No! That would only make it worse." he said. Flora looked puzzled. "Why, Marcus? What's wrong? Why can't I see little Connor!" she demanded.
Marcus sighed. "Flora... Connor is..." he began, feeling grim hands place something heavy in his arms. Little Connor. The child was now sleeping peacefully, his body- including mop of hair- except for his face concealed by a blanket which was wrapped around him like a bundle. His eyes were closed. At first, Flora thought that the thing which was wrong was something to do with his daemon; she couldn't see her anywhere. Speaking of which, she couldn't see Marcus' Butterfree daemon, Bella, anywhere. Her own daemon, the Persian formed Atania, moaned softly, moving into her arms, closer to her human's steadily beating heart. Flora's lips opened. "Where's his daemon? Marcus, what's wrong?" she sounded stern as well as desperate now, as though they were trying her patience. Atania's lips pulled back, a soft growl riverbrating from his throat.
Marcus winced. "Come on, then, Bella. Bring out Vivime." he said, closing his eyes as though what he about to do hurt. Flora's eyes widened. What was really that bad? Then she gasped, her hand flying up to her mouth as the Butterfree which was her husband's soul stepped up to her, presenting her with her son's daemon. She wished then that humans were allowed to touch other human's daemons, for this daemon was quite extraordinary; the daemon whose chest was rising slowly up and down in Bella's stubby arms was an Eevee. Not too unusual, but what was unusual, however, was the colouring. Her fur was stark white. Atania swallowed, taking Vivime, Connor's daemon, from Bella. He stroked her gently, and the Eevee's eyes opened. As did Connor's, the connection between child and soul binding them in conciousness. Atania hissed, dropping the daemon like it was poison; their eyes were both stark red.
Connor began crying as his daemon hit the bed. Marcus looked at Flora, hurt in his eyes, as he covered up his son's mouth. "Flora. We can't let anyone know that the child of the great Kaikeras is an albino. It would ruin us! What should we do?!" he babbled, his daemon fluttering about in distress. Fora nodded, pressing her shaking finger to his lips. "I think there's only one thing we can do, Marcus. We can't let anyone know about Connor. We have to say I had a miscarrage, or something, and... abandon him." she asked, looking at her servant with pleading eyes. The woman, face laced with indecision and regret, nodded slowly. And so, Connor never knew who he truly was. The region slowed, thouroughly disappointed. The tears the Kaikeras cried were real. And meanwhile, their baby was tossed into the wilderness.
Once all mutterings of Flora's 'failure' to have a child had died down, which only took a couple of months, it was discovered that Flora was pregnant again, with yet another boy. Daisy did not think this too wise. Just a month before Connor's first birthday, the baby was born. He was an ordinary, healthy baby. His eyes were a deep sea blue, his hair a stubborn scruff of brown. His name was Jem. People from all over Sinnoh now celebrated for real, and the now town, of Rekis, began a festival which would be held annually, know as Kaikera Day, celebrating the birth of the 'heir' to the Kaikera manor, power and fortune. Connor was never able to see his baby brother.
In the years following, Flora Kaikera had two more children, both girls, twins named Teri and Keri. Connor never saw them either. This is what happened to him, while his siblings were born and grew up.
A woman walked silently through the forest, and kept on checking behind her to make sure no-one was following her. Her Blissey daemon was nervous, and kept reminding her that she shouldn't be doing this. However, each time, she shushed him. In her arms was a baby, the baby Connor. He was looking directly into her eyes, a puzzled expression on his face. Vivime was in the Blissey's arms. Daisy Barl set Connor down on the ground, and cried a tear. "Connor... I hope you'll survive. I don't want to leave you to die. Survive, Connor. I know you can do it." she pleaded to him. The baby didn't understand her, of course. She ran, weeping, from the forest.
That was the last time Connor would see a human for the next four years.
An hour later, Connor began to cry. But this was not how babies normally cry; this was the endless sobs, torn from his heart as he knew he faced death. These were the tears of the end. Vivime was barely able to stand up. She had become a Torchic to try and keep Connor warm, but they would die of other reasons. Hunger, thirst. It was hopeless.
Or was it? A Pokémon heard the sobbing, and let out a long, eerie howl. Connor heard it, and instinct kicked in. The month old baby answered the howl, although it was more of a wailing sob. The Pokémon dashed towards the baby at that.
It had heard suffering. It was inhumane, no Pokémon or human should ever suffer like that. And it was the cry of a child, too. His paws beat the earth harder, faster, breath rising in misty pants around him. His eyes were red, too, his fur white. And yet he was not an albino. The Absol bounded, following the never ending cries to find Connor. He whined, curiously sniffing the child, who screamed louder than ever. No. That was not what he was to do. Absol whined sadly. What could he do to help this child? He raised his scarred muzzle and howled, a great summoning howl. He heard scattered answers, and paws began to raced towards him. Soon three other Absol and two cubs were sniffing at the baby, who had fallen asleep. Finally, one lifted her head.
She was a young female. She looked to the other members of the pack; the weakest, an old male, the Alpha female and her two cubs, and finally the Alpha male, who had summoned her. She flinched as she looked into his eyes, but held strong. ~I know what will help, Alpha. I... I must take him as my own cub. Loka needs to save her care for her own cubs, and...~ her voice trailed off as the Alpha, Scar, smiled. She beamed, gently picking up Connor and Vivime in her muzzle. The pack made their way back to their den.
And so, Connor and Vivime were raised by Absol. They grew up with the two cubs, and learned the ways of the Pokémon. They had no idea that other humans even existed, having never known a life other than this one. They moved on all fours, Lapped up water from a stream with their tongues, and learned to hunt. They even spoke Pokémon, since that was the only language they'd ever heard, and their 'mother', Abby, had made Connor clothes of sorts (just sheets wrapped around him so tightly it might be his own skin) from the fur of meals, since he did not have fur of his own to keep him warm. They lived a good life. Well, that is, until Connor was four years old.
~Connor, quick! We must get away!~ Abby's urgent voice prompted, her muzzle nudging the child, fear in her eyes. Connor blinked up at her curiously. ~Why?~ he barked. She shook her head. ~No time to explain! RUN!~ she yelled. He understood, and obeyed, racing on all fours. He was almost as fast as the Absol cubs. Vivime was in an Absol form, darting ahead. However, Connor suddenly felt sick, and looked up to see her biting and tearing, changing forms flick-flick-flick in the cruel arms of a Primape. He wailed, then snarled. A loud, sorrowful howl escaped him, but no-one came. Why? Where was everybody? He was picked up like a rag doll by a strange, furless Pokémon (he had come to think that his skins were his own fur, for Abby only changed them in his sleep when he was too big for them) and tossed into a cage inside a van. The door was locked, and he roared, ripping and tearing at the bars. Next to him, a similar thing was going on with Vivime. He caught a glimpse of a man clad in red being knocked to the ground by Scar before the door of the van slammed shut, and with a nervous scream the driver put his foot down. Connor was leaving his pack forever.
He sat there, huddled in the darkness, for hours. He was so scared he was shaking. Vivime whispered comforting words to him, but it was no use. He barked and growled at the driver, but he paid no attension. ~Vivime, what is this?~ he asked.
~I don't know.~ was his reply. ~What were those things?~ he asked. Once again, his answer was ~I don't know.~
It turned out that Connor had been kidnapped by Team Magma, and had been transported in the back of a van to the building, where he was kept in a concrete enclosure with a bowl of water and a dish of food. The boss, Max, came as soon as he'd heard news of this child. He wanted to try something out.
The man was like all the others. Weak and soft and pink, dressed in flimsy red stuff. Connor bared his teeth, Vivime's fur bristling. She was an Absol at the moment. This man seemed to have power. He turned to another man, and said something Connor couldn't understand. "So, this is the child?" it angered Connor, and he gave a warning growl.
Max chuckled, turning to him. "Ah, yes, I see. Completely wild, and an albino, too. That might be interesting when he's a Pokémorph. It's so great that we can finally get closer to making the ultimate fire being to serve us. I say we inject the DNA tomorrow, before he has a chance to become... tame." he smirked cruelly, turned and left.
You see, the plan of Team Magma was to create a being of fire to serve them. They had made several Fire type Pokémorphs before, but they'd all been too human to pose any threat to anyone. However, since Connor had been raised by Absol and didn't even know humans existed, he would be perfect. Stronger, better. The following day, his water was spiked with sleeping solution, and the moment he was out, he was dragged roughly to a room. The room was covered in scientific equipment; cruel needles, scaples and jars of strange substances. There was a table to which Connor was chained. Next to this operating table was a variety of jars, all laybelled with various Pokémon names. The stuff inside was the same colour as the type of the Pokémon. Mostly, they were firey colours; 'Ponyta', 'Torchic', 'Vulpix'. The scientist brandishing that fatefull needle made the greatest decision in Connor's life. He thought about the various pros and cons, then dipped the siringe in the jar laybelled 'Charizard' and injected it into the sleeping boy's arm. That was all that was needed. Connor's life would never be the same again. His fate had been sealed, and there was no going back.
When Connor awakened, he was lying on a lumpy mattress. He groaned, reaching out to touch Vivime. However, he couldn't. His arm... was so heavy. So very heavy. He couldn't move! And his body... he felt so hot. He was on fire! Every inch of his body seared in burning pain, but he couldn't do more than lie there. And to make things worse, he couldn't see or touch his daemon, his soul. He could hear her, however, sleeping on his chest. He was also aware of an annoying bleeping thing next to him and a strange clear plastic thing over his mouth. The same mouth felt dry as he realised what the machines were. Life support. They were the only thing keeping him alive. With that, he was out again.
He awoke. It seemed like a mere second later, but in actual fact, a full week had passed. This time, it was worse; he couldn't even open his eyes. He could only hear. "Gerald, see how things look on the heart rate moniter? It isn't too good, is it. He's been out for a week. Only recently has his coma come to a stable state. He can probably hear us." a man was saying. Another man's voice came. "But he's the toughest... I don't think the Charizard DNA is mixing well. See the way the scales are forming? And his daemon, look how shallow her breathing is. Perhaps we ought to take her away." the other man said. The other nodded. "That would certainly be... interesting. Come on, pick it up. He won't know." his grin could be heard through his voice. Connor felt like crying. It was the greatest crime, to touch another's daemon. And to take it away... did they mean forever? His heart rate reached a peak height before he fell unconiouss again.
Connor's transformation from human into Charizard Pokémorph was a long, painful, risk taking and dangerous one. He spend over a year in his coma, rising in and out of conciousness. When he was conciouss, he could hear and feel the intense pain of his DNA rearranging itself. The only thing he had to do was listen to the scientists, and, from that, he learned to understand people. He had no control over anything, and longed for the simplicity of his soul. He wanted to feel Vivime's warm body against his, stroke her fur. He didn't even know where his soul, his life partner, was.
Eventually, he found he was growing stronger. He could feel the power growing within him, and wondered at times if it would be enough to wake him from his coma, but his instinct told him that unless he waited, his transformation would be wrong. An error in his DNA structure couldn't be good, right? So he waited for, as I said, a year and a bit after he fell into said coma. Eventually, he felt the power inside him might explode. Something amazing happened. Something which sent all the Team Magma scientists into hyperventalation and such. His finger twitched.
Just that simple movement had a huge drain on his energy, and his head throbbed as he heard a scientist yell the news. As he heard them gather around, his cracked lips parted a tiny amount. He groaned. The first sound he had made in over a year had been emitted. He licked his lips, then paused, panting. No. He mustn't try anything yet. A scientist to his right yelled, "Hey, Boss! He's waking up! A10-L9B is waking up!" he called, the sound of running high heels approaching with these words. A strong scent of heavy floral perfume entered his nostrils, and his eyelids twitched, before flickering open. Everything seemed all fuzzy. He groaned again, hearing himself form the words, "Vivime. Where's my daemon?!" when no-one answered, he stood up abruptly, blinking hard and putting on his rather dusty glasses. He swayed dangerously, black spots appearing before his eyes.
"Urgggh..." he moaned, clutching his churning stomach. He shouldn't have ripped those life support machines away so quickly. The scientists were standing there, stunned, their mouths hanging open. Connor imagined a fly crawling in one. He glared at the tallest one, the one called 'Boss'. "You! Give me my daemon!" he screamed, holding out the palm of his hand. His eyes flashed a firey colour, not that he knew. He just felt power, anger, hatred, pain. This man had taken away his home, his pack, a year of his life, his freedom, and now his soul. What else had he stolen? That question was soon answered. As his hand glowed red, sparks dancing from it, he gasped. He looked behind him... and would have fainted had he not been out for the last year. Extending from his back were great white wings like the a Charizard's, just white. Hm. He'd taken away his humanity, too.
"What the...? What did you do? Why can't you leave me alone?!" he cried out, tears running in a steady stream down his ghostly pale cheeks. The boss man rolled his eyes. "I'll leave our greatest weapon with you. I have a team to run." he said casually as he walked away. Connor glared at them all. The scientists cringed away, their daemons nuzzling them or whining. Connor wiped away his tears. "I'm asking you! Give. Me. My. Daemon!" he roared, blood pounding in his ears. He knew she was here, he could feel her; feel her screamed, attempting to come to him. "How would you like it? How would you feel? If I were to pick up your daemon with my bare hands and hide it? And you never saw them again? You wanna know how that feels? I do. Give her BACK!" he screamed, this time feeling his hands burn with a warmth. But it was a good warmth. Without quite realising what he was doing, he raised his palms again, shooting a small fireball at a scientist. The man fell to the ground, screaming. Not dead, just out cold.
Connor gasped, breath coming in pants as he looked at his hands. There was no difference to them, but what had he done? What was he turning into; some sort of freaky monster? Oh, man, this was not good. He needed Vivime, needed her hugs, reassuring words. She was his soul, his guide, his lifelong friend, after all. The scientists, including the one he had knocked down, who was just getting up, seemed excited. He heard them muttering to each other.
"Powerful, very strong..."
"More successful than others..."
"Just came out of a coma, too..."
"Brilliant weapon, credit to Team Magma..."
"Yes, he'd help us capture the world..."
"Dissect his brain..."
"... no feelings, we should keep his daemon away forever..."
Connor had heard enough. He needed to get back Vivime. If he didn't, who knew how many more evil deeds he would commit without thinking? He just needed a diversion, one to get everyone distracted for long enough for him to escape. Well, his heart felt as though someone had ripped it out and replaced it with longing. He longed for his daemon. He knew what a good diversion would be, if the scientists were so interested in his powers. He would show them his powers. "I... I t-think I c-can do more s-s-stuff." he stammered, the five-year-old's voice shaking with nerves and longing. He concentrated on a cardboard box, imagining it being lit up with dancing flames. He felt an incredible sap on his energy, and knew because of it and the way the scientists gazed at it, amazed, that he had done it. He turned the fire several colours in different places; green, blue, red, purple, for good measure. That should buy him time. He raced out the same door the boss man had entered and exited through, following his aching heart to his soul.
Eventually, after much wondering about and making the bond with his daemon cause him pain to point him in the right direction, he heard a shout. ~Connor! It's Vivime! Vivi!~ he heard. It was Vivime! He forced his legs to move, racing down the corridor as adrenalin fueled his veins. He felt his heart pump in his mouth, gasping as his daemon came into view for the first time in a year. A wave of strong emotion caught him, and, although happy and relieved, he burst into tears. He heard Vivime sobbing, too, as he pushed his fingers through the bars of her cage to try and reach her. He couldn't. "Vivime... I can't reach you. Be something larger so you'll touch the bars at the top of the cage." he pleaded. However, Vivme shook her head. ~I can't, Connor. It's made of some material which stops any daemon changing shape.~ she whimpered, leaping up. They still couldn't connect, boy and Zigzagoon daemon.
Connor sighed, cradling the cage. He was crying again, crying because this was as close as he would ever get to his daemon. He hated the scientist so much, hated them more than he hated anything else. With that hatred, he felt his hands grow warm again, that tingly sensation hint something to him. His firey ability! The new one! Of course; it would set his soul free! He warned Vivime, then burned the lock, watching impatiently as the barred cage roof swung slowly open. Since Vivime was still unable to change or leap high enough, he tipped the cage upside down, spilling her into his arms. She instantly became a Flareon, nuzzling him, grunting happily, licking his face. He laughed, his heart whole again. It seemed as though he had progressed in life, too, he thought sadly; Vivime was taking on an evolved form, something she rarely used to do.
Footsteps ruined the moment. A group of scientists; Connor could hear their angry shouts. Vivime snarled, becoming a fiersome Arcanine. She started racing as fast as she could down the corridor, and Connor followed her. As a human (sort of), he was much slower than his daemon with the form of one of the fastest Pokémon in the world, and so Vivime had to keep waiting for him to catch up. In the end, she became a Tailow and fluttered about him, urging him on. He could see doors... sunlight, for the first time in over a year... he was almost there...
He made it! Racing out onto freshly cut grass, Connor heard alarms ringing furiously in the background. But that was all behind him now. Laughing, his hopes were only slightly dampened by the tall walls topped with barbed wire. That wouldn't stop him! Before he realised what he was doing, his huge wings expanded and he leaped into the air, pushing them down and feeling himself rising. Two bullets whooshed past him, and Vivime trilled a warning. He swallowed, wobbling in the air. He now realized what exactly he was doing, and he didn't perticually like it. He rose higher, turning right instead of left before he quickly corrected himself. He had now idea how to fly. He could feel his wings move, and they effected him, but all in all, he didn't know. Vivime, a more experienced flyer, shouted instructions to him, which helped him make progress. Although slow and dangerously wobbly, he eventually managed to make it to the nearby forest before he fell with the bang of a third gun.
He collapsed in a heap on the grass, screaming in agony. He couldn't hear the men; they must have got scared that they'd hit the creation they'd spent years on. They'd get fired. They'd be beated. Connor hoped so. The toddler was the saddest he'd ever been, cradling Vivime pittifully as blood dribbled from a wound in his arm. Finally, his daemon went limp, his eyes closed as he collapsed.
When he woke, he was yet again in a new place. However, this one seemed nice. He could hear a calming, warm fire crackling merrily from somewhere, and he was lying on a bed which felt as comfy as clouds to him. Vivime was beside him, yawning, and his arm was bandaged and in a sling. He was wearing simple clothes, but he didn't mind the fact that he was wearing them; he'd realized he was (or used to be) a human while in his coma. He grunted, trying to get up. He was too weak. Urgh! He was sick of being too weak to do anything!
He looked to one side as he heard a door open. A smiling, kindly woman entered, sitting down at his bedside. Her daemon was a Blissey, and she looked oddly familiar. "Hello, little boy. You gave us quite a scare there. Who did this to you? Who'd dare shoot a five year old?" she asked.
Connor smiled for the first time in years. "I am Connor. My daemon is Vivime. Team Magma caught me from the Absol and made me Charizard like. I'm scared. I have strange abilities and I don't know what's going on. Please, I'm sick of being the looser!" he said, sobbing, his smiled gone. The woman sucked in her breath.
"Connor, huh? I remem- I mean, hello, Connor. My name is Daisy. Don't worry, Connor. We'll find out what's going on." Daisy reassured him.
And that's just what happened. Daisy took care of Connor. She lived on the outskirts of Fallarbor, and had discovered him when he'd fallen in the nearby forest. She sent him to school, and he practiced his abilities as a Pokémorph, although he was often scolded for it. School was worse. Everyone stared at him, even the teachers. People treated him as though he weren't human. It grew worse when he moved up from the tiny, friendly elementary school to the larger academy. They did not know of his powers, merely teasing him for his appearance. He longed to show them what he could really do, but he knew it was for the best that they remained oblivious. However, one day, Daisy let it slip that he'd once taken residance in the Kaikera manor. She hadn't stated why, however, but Connor could guess.
And with that, Connor grabbed his daemon tightly with both hands, taking off with his powerful wings. He soared high, wingtips brushing the clouds on every upwards stroke. He cut his way through the air. When he could see the Kaikera manor, he landed where no humans would see, and walked on foot up to the building, a lump forming in his throat. This was where he had spent his childhood. He was coming home. He wondered if the would remember him. With a shaking hand, he rang the doorbell.
A woman answered it. Without a doubt, this was Flora Kaikera. She seemed older than Connor had expected. Her eyes widened as she saw Connor. Connor's pale face lit up; did she remember him?
"Hello, guest. I am Flora Kaikera. Welcome to our manor." she spoke formally. Connor's heart sank. That was a no, she didn't. Probably because of the crest and tail, and the years. He probably looked extremely different. "Can I come in, Mrs. Kaikera?" he asked in a small voice. She nodded. "Of course, poor soul!" she cried, leading him in. Marcus was in the hallway. She walked over to him, and he muttered something in her ear. "I've got the strangest feeling I know that boy from somewhere." he wondered aloud. Flora nodded; she felt it too. "Poor lost child, what is your name?"
Connor looked her straight in the eye. Might as well not hold it in. "Connor. Connor... Kaikera, I think." he spoke, his words strong and confident. At that same instant, there was much of a rush; Flora had fainted.
An hour later, Connor, Flora, Marcus, Jem, Keri, Teri and Daisy were dining at a table. Connor was wolfing down his food; it was the first proper meal he'd had in ages. From the little babies Connor had heard about, they had grown into a little gentleman and two young ladies. Jem had progressed from chubby three-year-old to slightly plump twelve-year-old, and the twins weren't wailing one-year-olds, they were polite and pretty ten-year-olds. Connor, of course, had had the most change. He had looked like the average baby other than being an albino, and now he was handsome, skin and bone, and a Pokémorph.
"How? Connor, what happened?" Flora asked. Connor glared at her, Vivime hissing angrily. She winced. Her fault? Connor explained his story, and a wave of guilt washed over Flora. "Connor! I'm so sorry, if I'd have known what they were-" she began, but was cut off. Marcus was speaking. "No, it's our fault. We hid Connor our of shame, and needed to send him away." he said. Connor smiled. It seemed he was finally being accepted, thirteen years after he had been born.
However, his strange adventures weren't about to stop. He spent six months with his true family, then something which, when scientists (nice ones) discovered a month later, they were baffled and named them after the Kaikeras. In that world, at least.
Connor was relaxed, happier than had ever been in his life. His stomach was full, and he belonged. The people of Sinnoh, Enera, knew him as a Kaikera and he was loved. He had Vivime, lying at his side in her Eevee form. Then, suddenly, he felt a shudder. Clutching Vivime's quivering form tightly, he looked about. Nothing. Hm. Must have just been a little tremour. Then he felt it again. He peered out the window; odd. Although pictures had been knocked off their rails here, there was no sign outside that anything had happened. He was a little worried now. What if Team Magma had somehow managed to enter and were about to capture him? He hoped not. He really hoped not.
Then came the largest tremour of them all, again, nothing happening outside his bedroom, and a thin crack of light appeared, hovering in the centre of his room. His eyes widened, and he made for the door. Before he made it out, however, the crack widened in a split second, drawing him and Vivime inside before closing up forever. He screamed, falling through a strange vortex, before landing with a thud on soft grass. Where was he?
Connor discovered that he was in a land called Airore, a mistake. It must have been a mistake that he was there, then. He sighed, trailing through, trying to find someone. He hasn't found a person yet, but, behind where he landed, was a Pokémon Lab. One for new trainers to start. That, of course, naturally gave him an idea. A new world, a new him; he would become a Pokémon Trainer.
Schools Attended: Fallarbor Elementary, Fallarbor Academy
Likes: Fire
Warmth
Pokémon (obviously)
Freedom
Friends
Dragons
Pheonixes
Wolves
Dislikes: Bullies
Hatred
Ice
Cold
Captivity
Evil Teams, especially Team Magma
Family:
Flora Kaikera - Mother
Marcus Kaikera - Father
Jem Kaikera - Brother
Keri and Teri Kaikera - Twin sisters
Secret Sentence: -pokes other character- I already read the rules and proof is with Sulteron! It was something said by Tyson, anyway. -too lazy to get it again-
Other: Well, since he had a daemon, I felt I should probably state what she's like.
Name: Vivime (Vi-vi-meh), sometimes called Viv
Favourite forms: Pidgeot, Absol, Lucario, Eevelutions, any Fire type
Appearance: Although it is hard to describe a shape-shifter, Viv does have some distinguishable features. Thanks to her human's albinoism, not matter what form she is in, her skin/fur/whatever is always pure white, her eyes a glittering red. Where a Pokémon has two or more colours, she will simply be tinted a colour.
Personality: Vivime is kind hearted, always putting others before herself. She is honest, sometimes brutally so. She likes to investigate things, occasionally letting her curiousity get the better of her. Like all daemons, she supports anything her human does, although she often convinses him to go with more sensible options. She is sensible and likes to play safe, 'just in case'. Connor constantly reminds her that there isn't much that could go wrong, but she always sticks with what she thinks is right, a very determined daemon.
