Set in the original region of Arciel, Legends Rising is a route-inspired, but not strictly route-based, Pokemon roleplay. Pick a faction, pick a class, and strike out into the wild to take on the League, master Contest coordination, research the mysteries of Pokemon and Arciel, and much, much more. Will you be a classic trainer? A criminal? A farmer? Choose your destiny on Legends Rising.
The nurse at the Pokemon Center had leaned over the desk with a withering stare and said he had (or was lacking) a “winning personality.” Amber had recognized the insult, but he couldn’t call her out; it felt like a rare bit of criticism. That and the nurse in question was upset at being told to do the job she trained for – that was weirdly common with adults – and was trying to intimidate him into “patience.” In reality, Amber couldn’t think of many things he disliked about himself aside from, maybe, his height. It was less that he hated being short, but that nothing was built to accommodate for it, and the first thing anyone else did to assert dominance they didn’t have was to make themselves taller.
Digressing. Amber couldn’t think of many things he disliked about himself, but reflecting, he could name a few that bothered others. First, he was smart, and he enjoyed being smart. There was nothing the everyday person hated more than being told something they didn’t know, or being corrected on something their simpler thought process settled into auto-pilot for, at a time they decided was “inconvenient” for them. The second thing people hated about Amber was his lack of subtlety. “Subtlety” was his dad’s word; he pulled Amber aside when he was younger and told the boy, “That’s great you feel that way, son, but you didn’t have to bring up her salary– it’s a bit direct.” A necessary evil; most people didn’t pick up on much. That Amber was breaking some unspoken social rules would just make him unpopular, which he got.
Amber still couldn’t get why people berated or hurt other people, or Pokemon, kill that thought, for personal gain. He had stolen multiple times, more times than he’d like to admit, in order to survive, and he still didn’t get it. Maybe, after all this time, he remained naive and bewildered at the world around him. Maybe the giddiness he felt walking into a world bigger than him with his only responsibility being to “survive” – and then maybe his goal to make something more of himself, it was all kiddish and vague, and he would learn the hard way; someone would recognize his last name and drag him back where he was unwanted. That, or he was being needlessly pessimistic, and that had to be his least favorite trait in others.
At any rate – the Center doors slipped shut behind him, and it was off to the races, the egg tucked under his sweatshirt away from the elements. Amber dodged right, cut across the parking lot, stopping behind a dumpster where a hooded Chimaera member sat smoking. The man asked: “Well? See everything y’ want to?”
Amber had lived in Plum with his parents since birth, but in the research triangle, in a swanky apartment with a pool and a gym, in walking distance of three university libraries. The most adversity he’d faced growing up were a few fistfights from provoking the wrong private school kids, plus whatever second-hand he’d witnessed from volunteering. So: no, he hadn’t seen everything, but he’d seen enough.
“Never told me about your parents.” The hooded man plucked the cigarette from his mouth, inspecting how the light rain tossed the flame, unbothered.
A beat of stunned silence later, Amber could only shrug back: his father was a paleontologist but worked as an environmental monitor for a bigwig construction company. Loved science, and always talked about it – rubbed off on him. And his mother was a vet, but he didn’t mention her. Momijigari organized a lot of the cleanup efforts in low-income parts of Plum City, but the man only recognized his name through his wanted posters, a few months before they were taken down.
And that was the thing – he found himself seated beside the man on the curb. The first months after the attacks, his father was frenetic in wanting to understand what had happened. He was even applying to research positions to study the “UB” phenomenon, and was possibly inches away from classified Interpol information, but then he just stopped caring. Whether he got the position or not was uncertain; he and his son had been thick as thieves – Amber was homeschooled, so they spent a lot of time together growing up. And yet his father became increasingly cagey around him. As time passed, he would become increasingly absent, sometimes for days on end. A year ago, he vanished outright. He left a single note that read, “I have nothing,” and eventually the search stopped. But it wasn’t as if they found a body – the man visibly winces, but Amber continues on: the note had to mean something; his father’s discoveries laid either unfinished or in the clandestine offices away from the people who needed it; and at that point, home felt empty.
So, before his companion asked inanely if he had “any regrets,” Amber clarified the runaway plan hadn’t blown up on him yet. No one was looking for him because no one knew who he was-- yet. So no more stupid questions, right? When was the guy’s contact rolling up, what was his ride–?
The Chimaera member placed a hand on his shoulder to the boy’s chagrin, in a “you’ll-know” regard. “Just hope y’ know what you’re doin’.” He clarified: “Seen a lot of different people use Pokemon to patch their problems. Most of ‘em criminals. It’s a lot of responsibility. That egg’s kind of a time-bomb.”
Looking up so Amber’s eyes follow, he noted a similarly hooded, anonymous figure loitering at the end of the alley. “I’m tagging out. Just tell me what you’re gonna do soon as you get to Birch so I don’t regret anything.” To that, Amber smiled. That was the fun part: you could never have a plan. He would be a lot more nervous if he did.
Get a source of income. And Wi-Fi.
Raise a team of uber-badasses.
Figure out what these Ultra Beasts are about.
Okay, if I get to train Pokemon, I have to get a fossil.
Maybe save up for college? I dunno. School's never really worked out.
I dunno. Do something important. Make them remember me.
4'04" / 133cm
Generally rounded features, but those big, smokey, puppy-dog eyes have a natural upward slant, like he’s always looking down on you. The little powerhouse comes packaged with an inherent leanness and susceptibility for muscle gain – he could be forgiven for calling himself “compact.”
Whether he looks his intelligence is up to the beholder. He packs a stiff posture, a permanent scowl, and a propensity for injury even when he hasn’t picked a fight. His nose has been broken “at least twice – three times?” And he has an indiscriminate scruffiness to him that, even if he could, says he wouldn’t be taking long showers.
Like a storm cloud. Sometimes the mass will light up and the boy’s figure will give off sparks of brilliant orange.
Skills, Abilities, & Notoriety
Ability (Level X) (Cost: X) or N/A
0 - Neutral
Amber Momijigari has been eternally, utterly bored from the word “go.” Raised by science-loving parents in an affluent neighborhood, the boy spent his upbringing binging science news and attending STEM camps; from the start, he always wanted to study the world’s extraordinary lifeforms, especially when the more-ordinary, human ones never seemed to get on his wavelength. Nevermind those dreams of university: after the Ultra Beasts attacked his home city, his family situation crumbled. When home no longer felt that way, the boy put faith in his intellect, his ambition, and his very minute street smarts to hit the road. Eventually making contact with a ragtag group called “Chimaera” with a similar want to change the world, Amber finds himself smuggled into Birch Town to start his explorer’s journey right.
The egg’s his buddy, passed on by a Chimaera contact… probably. He has a list of names for when it hatches.
art by enodio @ tumblr
Ultimate Challenge - Hatch Day: Option B (Type | Dragon)