Post by risingmew on Jun 14, 2020 4:42:58 GMT
« Full Name: Briar Farrigan
« Gender: Cis female
« Age: 20
« Hometown: Sunhaven
« Personality:
Briar is what some might call an "outgoing introvert”, able to appreciate the peacefulness of time spent alone and the pleasure of social interaction in equal measures. Sure, she might prefer an evening of relaxing with a good book to a party or a lengthy phone call, but she won’t shy away from such things if and when they come up. She prizes the thoughts and feelings of others above her own wants and needs; if there’s a way she can help or encourage someone, she’ll do it without hesitation. Personal safety and enjoyment are almost always second thoughts when it comes to Briar, unless there’s no-one around for her to prioritize.
Generally, Briar is of the happy sort; at least, that's how she appears to others. Internally, she tends to be a bit more melancholic than she lets on, though that isn’t to say her enthusiasm is always fake. She merely doesn't want to burden others with negative emotions, especially if they are already struggling with similar issues. Such feelings are saved, instead, for her journals, where she reasons through them in her spare time. Even the few she trusts with her darker thoughts and feelings struggle to get anything out of her before she’s had a chance to reflect on it personally.
Generally, Briar is of the happy sort; at least, that's how she appears to others. Internally, she tends to be a bit more melancholic than she lets on, though that isn’t to say her enthusiasm is always fake. She merely doesn't want to burden others with negative emotions, especially if they are already struggling with similar issues. Such feelings are saved, instead, for her journals, where she reasons through them in her spare time. Even the few she trusts with her darker thoughts and feelings struggle to get anything out of her before she’s had a chance to reflect on it personally.
« History:
Briar’s childhood was a primarily happy one. Growing up in Sunhaven gave her access to a sort of mundane luxury that few other Deprinian cities could offer. There was power from the solar panels, seaweed from the nearby ocean, and enthusiasm from the locals. Given the chaos caused by the disappearance of Pokèmon, those three small things had tremendous importance.
In other parts of Deprin, Briar's family might have struggled to maintain themselves. The Farrigan family had relied upon the ocean for generations, utilizing it in every way possible to provide their wages. Briar's grandparents on one side were oversea merchants; on the other side they were junior caretakers at the isolated Illumise Island. Her various aunts and uncles all seemed to work in or near the water, as seaweed harvesters and dockworkers and everything in between. Her own parents were treasure divers who scoured the ocean floor for whatever cast-off Pokèmon remnants might fetch a pretty penny. Though other cities bordered the ocean, few embraced it as totally as Sunhaven did--and so it remained the Farrigan family's preferred place of residence.
As a child, Briar was quick to inherit her family's love for the sea. She marveled at all of the secrets contained within it; the whispers of a bygone era where the water was teeming with life. Many of her spare hours were spent at the beach, trying to picture the shifting world that was once hidden beneath the surface. The absence of Pokèmon was one she felt even though she had never truly known them; being near the ocean meant that she saw the void they left behind with perfect clarity.
She wanted to know more about what she was missing, and, for that, she turned to her Grandfather. Having worked as an assistant to help conserve Pokèmon at Illumise Island, he knew better than most what it was like to live and work with them. He told her of the beautiful diversity that he nourished day by day and the careful ecosystem that he helped to create. She knew the Pokèmon of the sea from the faded graphics on every old poster and billboard that decorated Sunhaven, but he told her about the myriad other species she had never heard of. Beyond that, he told her how they lived and behaved, how he learned more about them with each passing day. She longed to have that experience, hanging on to her Grandfather’s every word.
When she turned ten, he gifted her a few of his old textbooks. Most children wouldn’t be too thrilled to receive such a gift, but Briar couldn’t get enough of them. They were biology textbooks, full of pictures and drawings and diagrams of Pokèmon as they had lived all that time ago. She spent a goodly portion of her free time studying them, making Pokèmon real in a way she knew they could never be.
Her grandfather passed away the next year, just before Briar turned eleven, forcing her to come face to face with an entirely new void—a personal one, devoid of her short life’s most influential presence. She filled this void with the things he left her: references, diaries, and field notes. He and his wife, who had passed before Briar could know her, were prolific writers who recorded much of their lives pre- and post- disappearance. Just as she did with the vanished Pokèmon, she dedicated herself to study so that she could remember their stories. It was around then that she began to write her feelings rather than speaking them, so that she would have just as colorful a record to leave behind someday.
Her passion for Pokèmon only continued to grow as she studied her grandparents’ notes. They were like the textbooks she had previously received but with a more personal edge, recording the lives of two young people who were eager to help preserve Pokèmon for the years to come. They weren’t full-fledged naturalists when Pokèmon disappeared, but they were naturalists in spirit—and they continued to study and learn even as the world adjusted to its new reality. Their stories filled her with a conflicted optimism that pushed her towards a new dream; she wanted to become a Pokèmon historian, just as they had.
As she graduated high school, she had one destination in mind: Mistveil University. As one of the only schools of higher learning in all of Deprin, and the only one that taught the study of Pokèmon with any reliability, it was her best option for pursuing the new dream that she had manifested. But such a prestigious—and distant—university wouldn’t come cheap. So, she committed herself to hard work and long hours, gradually piling up savings for her eventual transition into an academic life.
She was still working, still saving, when Pokèmon returned.
Their arrival was silent, and she didn’t notice right away. It was only when she spotted a Rattata scavenging in an alley on her way home from work that she made the startling realization that Pokèmon had returned. At first she thought she was hallucinating, but then someone else yelped in surprise as they passed. A crowd began to gather, staring in awe at the tiny creature that shouldn’t be there; that was when Briar really believed.
It took a few days of news rolling in from around Deprin for their return to truly cement itself. Briar had wondered if that Rattata had just been a fluke, but people all around the region reported similar experiences. Pidoves were perching on power lines; Mudkips were lazing on beaches. Pokèmon were totally and definitively back, and Briar couldn’t be more thrilled. After a few days of hard thought, she quit her job and packed some bags. She had enough saved to take her to Mistveil, where the Pokèmon Professor had her lab. From there, her life was full of spectacular possibilities she had never even thought to imagine...all it would take was a Pokèmon of her own.
In other parts of Deprin, Briar's family might have struggled to maintain themselves. The Farrigan family had relied upon the ocean for generations, utilizing it in every way possible to provide their wages. Briar's grandparents on one side were oversea merchants; on the other side they were junior caretakers at the isolated Illumise Island. Her various aunts and uncles all seemed to work in or near the water, as seaweed harvesters and dockworkers and everything in between. Her own parents were treasure divers who scoured the ocean floor for whatever cast-off Pokèmon remnants might fetch a pretty penny. Though other cities bordered the ocean, few embraced it as totally as Sunhaven did--and so it remained the Farrigan family's preferred place of residence.
As a child, Briar was quick to inherit her family's love for the sea. She marveled at all of the secrets contained within it; the whispers of a bygone era where the water was teeming with life. Many of her spare hours were spent at the beach, trying to picture the shifting world that was once hidden beneath the surface. The absence of Pokèmon was one she felt even though she had never truly known them; being near the ocean meant that she saw the void they left behind with perfect clarity.
She wanted to know more about what she was missing, and, for that, she turned to her Grandfather. Having worked as an assistant to help conserve Pokèmon at Illumise Island, he knew better than most what it was like to live and work with them. He told her of the beautiful diversity that he nourished day by day and the careful ecosystem that he helped to create. She knew the Pokèmon of the sea from the faded graphics on every old poster and billboard that decorated Sunhaven, but he told her about the myriad other species she had never heard of. Beyond that, he told her how they lived and behaved, how he learned more about them with each passing day. She longed to have that experience, hanging on to her Grandfather’s every word.
When she turned ten, he gifted her a few of his old textbooks. Most children wouldn’t be too thrilled to receive such a gift, but Briar couldn’t get enough of them. They were biology textbooks, full of pictures and drawings and diagrams of Pokèmon as they had lived all that time ago. She spent a goodly portion of her free time studying them, making Pokèmon real in a way she knew they could never be.
Her grandfather passed away the next year, just before Briar turned eleven, forcing her to come face to face with an entirely new void—a personal one, devoid of her short life’s most influential presence. She filled this void with the things he left her: references, diaries, and field notes. He and his wife, who had passed before Briar could know her, were prolific writers who recorded much of their lives pre- and post- disappearance. Just as she did with the vanished Pokèmon, she dedicated herself to study so that she could remember their stories. It was around then that she began to write her feelings rather than speaking them, so that she would have just as colorful a record to leave behind someday.
Her passion for Pokèmon only continued to grow as she studied her grandparents’ notes. They were like the textbooks she had previously received but with a more personal edge, recording the lives of two young people who were eager to help preserve Pokèmon for the years to come. They weren’t full-fledged naturalists when Pokèmon disappeared, but they were naturalists in spirit—and they continued to study and learn even as the world adjusted to its new reality. Their stories filled her with a conflicted optimism that pushed her towards a new dream; she wanted to become a Pokèmon historian, just as they had.
As she graduated high school, she had one destination in mind: Mistveil University. As one of the only schools of higher learning in all of Deprin, and the only one that taught the study of Pokèmon with any reliability, it was her best option for pursuing the new dream that she had manifested. But such a prestigious—and distant—university wouldn’t come cheap. So, she committed herself to hard work and long hours, gradually piling up savings for her eventual transition into an academic life.
She was still working, still saving, when Pokèmon returned.
Their arrival was silent, and she didn’t notice right away. It was only when she spotted a Rattata scavenging in an alley on her way home from work that she made the startling realization that Pokèmon had returned. At first she thought she was hallucinating, but then someone else yelped in surprise as they passed. A crowd began to gather, staring in awe at the tiny creature that shouldn’t be there; that was when Briar really believed.
It took a few days of news rolling in from around Deprin for their return to truly cement itself. Briar had wondered if that Rattata had just been a fluke, but people all around the region reported similar experiences. Pidoves were perching on power lines; Mudkips were lazing on beaches. Pokèmon were totally and definitively back, and Briar couldn’t be more thrilled. After a few days of hard thought, she quit her job and packed some bags. She had enough saved to take her to Mistveil, where the Pokèmon Professor had her lab. From there, her life was full of spectacular possibilities she had never even thought to imagine...all it would take was a Pokèmon of her own.
« Appearance:
Briar is a short and stocky individual, with pale (though relatively tan) skin and reddish hair. She is noticeably freckled and has the same hazel-green eyes that her Grandfather once did, though hers are a bit more vibrant. She tends to favor loose and comfortable clothes, typically wearing patterned tees and cargo pants whenever formality isn't required. She is almost never seen without a bag of some sort, in which she carries her most essential goods; usually, this takes the form of a bulky satchel or messenger bag, though she'll wear a backpack whenever it's more practical. Her favorite colors--teals and oranges--tend to show up quite often in her fashion, to the point where she'll wear them even when they clash with the rest of her clothes.
[ Made with Sangled's Picrew ]
[ Made with Sangled's Picrew ]