Post by sable on Dec 23, 2019 10:34:53 GMT 11
さん
♪
5’9” in heels, pale with a kiss of pink, and a veritable beanpole. The hardest part of modeling for her had always been maintaining her weight in either direction— this even with the alt scene’s wider margin for “error.” And there has always been a pressure for doll-likeness on San since she was a kid. Unsurprisingly, she wants to be done with it. She chopped off her hair a long time ago to substitute with wigs as bright and ostentatious as she feels. Colored contacts match her eye color to her mood, how she feels. She’s been eating more comfort foods, ballooning from that under-100-pound twilight zone to a hearty, healthy 135. San has even been ditching those heels lately, though she is still taller than most older Tojonese women. This is helped by her high torso, achieving a leggy look. Though to San, her body was never the center of focus on the catwalk; ironically, it has become more to her now. She carries herself with a confident, balanced posture and wears her emotions on her sleeve, quick to smile, laugh, and blush. She considers witnessing her cry, however, to be very rude.
-----You wouldn’t miss San normally but she projects herself with a will to be heard—literally; she has a loud voice. She has a penchant for alternative fashion; high-end streetwear. Other interests with a patent impression on her aesthetic include shonen anime, idol culture, and the widely-mourned emo movement popularized in the rave halls of Unova. Did you think traveling the wilderness would hinder her routine? San feels naked without makeup, high-saturated eyeshadows being her signature. It matches the flamboyance of her outfits, elaborate and of many layers. She takes the chef’s approach to mixing: two great flavors — styles — work greater in tangent. Rather than dedicate to one branch of harajuku, for example, you are more likely to see San in a nice sports jacket with another wrapped around her waist like an obi, bulky and choked with fantastical paraphernalia, with two mismatching stockings, a belt with a chain, and hair pins embellishing her hair in a big, pastel vomit — and a green wig. San thinks you can’t call yourself a fashion-lover of you’re worried about what other people think.
-- ♪
Recent events have led San to re-evaluate her goals in life. While she has yet to settle on something personal or substantial, she has realized she would rather spend her remaining time on earth helping other people. In a sense, she is worried about others’ perspectives; she tries to stay cognizant of the people around her, in her own way, and is quick to help those she identifies as having a problem. From years of yearning to be “liked,” a more mature San has learned to let opinions of herself vary as they will. Importantly, she wants her actions to speak regardless of how people perceive her appearance. Her developed empathy allows her to forgive quickly and judge minimally. San would describe her empathy and unfettered altruism as her best traits.
-----Of course, being self-sacrificing sacrifices something; regarding San, she spends a lot of time outside her own head. She can be aggressive in the way she pursues other peoples’ interests, not to mention over-sharing with their issues and her own when she believes they need help. Or: when San believes you need help, you’ll get it, oftentimes on her terms; her natural intuition butts against her stubbornness, meaning San is not always self-aware of how her well intentions can affect others. Recklessness is something she also struggles with, having a tendency to overlook potential consequences in a rush to get things done. San is easy to distract with new, shiny, one-note interests, and all the connections she make tend to blend together, explaining why despite being an open book she doesn’t have many long-term friendships. San really is drifting through life and that totally ignored that she is objectively intelligent. She can recall and apply information with high efficiency; she has considerable spatial awareness; she can be compelling and charismatic in interpersonal interactions. Unlike most nerds, San doesn’t consider her intelligence the definition edge to her personality. She wouldn’t really know what to call herself – again, she doesn’t spend especial time self-reflecting – but she does put her outgoing nature as top priority and the lengths she’ll go to for others are often admirable.
-----On Pokémon, San eschews the anthropocentrism of typical Trainers having since childhood ascribed to a sense of spiritualism regarding the creatures: seeing Pokémon as mystical, beyond complete comprehension. Because of this, she sees herself as obligated to serve her future teammates first and foremost. She generally dislikes beating other Pokémon down in a fight and would rather find creative solutions to winning a battle. She is a strong believer in the idea that there are “no bad Pokémon,” only misguided trainers. With a forbearing attitude, San embraces the whims of fate rather than attempts to contrive and nitpick an ideal future team and defends the many weirdos of the Pokémon world with fervency. This all in mind, San also has a collector’s habit and craves the feeling of accomplishment that team-building brings. Pokemon with different forms mesmerize her — she has to have them all!
-- ♪
-----Pokemon themselves had always and only been at the periphery of San’s childhood; it was never expected that she become a trainer, and so stubbornly, she latched onto her idealized version of it. Living vicariously through the showcase idols and bombastic league challengers on television, San’s tenth birthday came and went; she thundered through the hallways with Bug Pokemon she found in the garden, under the floorboards, ordering attacks like “Super Spin-Out!” She held out through receiving her first Eevee as a partner. And it wasn’t that San found her life at the time unfulfilling. She was actually orphaned at birth; it was believed her parents passed in an accident. The woman she would only know as Okasan entered her life at several months old. She spoke with mysticism and ambiguity about a brilliant rainbow bringing her there and it was San who returned with her to the autumnal paradise of Ecruteak, to her okiya, a school for budding geisha. There, the girl had a family and an education more or less equivalent to most trainer academies. Yet, an underlying tension was bubbling up for the intrepid little girl, one exacerbated by Okasan’s strict regimen and scoldings to “wait.” Years in, they would have a falling-out, leaving San to storm out with her Eevee in tow. The teenager entered the city with a hazy plan to win Erica’s badge and a lustrous passion–with no preparation.
-----Eventually, little San was targeted for her inexperience, a poacher snatching her Eevee out from under her nose. So in what seemed instantaneous, her potential to train went up in smoke; she was stuck in the bustling city of Celadon with no help, an obduracy to never go back home and get it. San was determined she could make it on her own, so she found odd jobs for cash. This led to her accepting her first modeling gig: one-time work for a local fashion designer. All that experience walking in okobo and walking right cumulated in a comfort level and a further pursuit and acquisition of similar gigs. The exposure would help her get scouted at sixteen by a Kanto fashion agency. San reunited with her birth home in the rainbow city to continue modeling. Tribulations were mild, the work was easy and profitable, and the first day she appeared on live TV for Celadon’s Fashion Week, she couldn’t help but imagine the looks on her old friends’ faces.
-----This new San-san was far bigger than the old girl had been, she thought. Mellowed out compared to previous zealousness; far less ambitious; less dreaming, more doing. (And using.) The only thing Old San had going for her was a support group– friends and found family. New San compensated over several years with what her agent called “prospective publicity nightmares,” or the occasional raring party. San-san wore her hell-throwing, bubbly-insanity with pride– as long as people showed up. And enabled her. But the end result of several reckless years crashed into her and (literally) struck her sober.
-----She woke up one Friday in the general hospital.
-----San had eighty missed calls from the woman, Okasan, and the nurses outside in the hall she could hear: “It’ll be miraculous if she wakes up. Poor girl; how could someone so young throw it all away?” Looking out her window onto the cityscape, higher than any skyscraper or radio tower, a rainbow trailed out into a bright, sun-bleached horizon. The shadow of a large, crested bird flew away – she swears. Entoptic glitter blinded her; she blinked, and the creature was gone. What was it Okasan had mentioned before she was adopted, of a rainbow, of a bird…?
-----She would spend several months in recovery, but it was that moment San realized she had come full-circle in her life. The little girl who wanted to catch bugs and battle was still there. And it was a miracle that she had lived; it was only right to take full advantage and pursue the one dream she’d held repressed since childhood. Her agency remained tight-lipped on reinstating her contract either way, so San moved out to the Johtonese countryside, tracked down her old okiya, and stumbled onto her Okasan to beg, plea, and sob for forgiveness. Granted, the old woman pulled some strings for her to start her second chance.
App Complete: [YES]
21 | Beauty | Celadon City |
♪
5’9” in heels, pale with a kiss of pink, and a veritable beanpole. The hardest part of modeling for her had always been maintaining her weight in either direction— this even with the alt scene’s wider margin for “error.” And there has always been a pressure for doll-likeness on San since she was a kid. Unsurprisingly, she wants to be done with it. She chopped off her hair a long time ago to substitute with wigs as bright and ostentatious as she feels. Colored contacts match her eye color to her mood, how she feels. She’s been eating more comfort foods, ballooning from that under-100-pound twilight zone to a hearty, healthy 135. San has even been ditching those heels lately, though she is still taller than most older Tojonese women. This is helped by her high torso, achieving a leggy look. Though to San, her body was never the center of focus on the catwalk; ironically, it has become more to her now. She carries herself with a confident, balanced posture and wears her emotions on her sleeve, quick to smile, laugh, and blush. She considers witnessing her cry, however, to be very rude.
-----You wouldn’t miss San normally but she projects herself with a will to be heard—literally; she has a loud voice. She has a penchant for alternative fashion; high-end streetwear. Other interests with a patent impression on her aesthetic include shonen anime, idol culture, and the widely-mourned emo movement popularized in the rave halls of Unova. Did you think traveling the wilderness would hinder her routine? San feels naked without makeup, high-saturated eyeshadows being her signature. It matches the flamboyance of her outfits, elaborate and of many layers. She takes the chef’s approach to mixing: two great flavors — styles — work greater in tangent. Rather than dedicate to one branch of harajuku, for example, you are more likely to see San in a nice sports jacket with another wrapped around her waist like an obi, bulky and choked with fantastical paraphernalia, with two mismatching stockings, a belt with a chain, and hair pins embellishing her hair in a big, pastel vomit — and a green wig. San thinks you can’t call yourself a fashion-lover of you’re worried about what other people think.
-- ♪
Recent events have led San to re-evaluate her goals in life. While she has yet to settle on something personal or substantial, she has realized she would rather spend her remaining time on earth helping other people. In a sense, she is worried about others’ perspectives; she tries to stay cognizant of the people around her, in her own way, and is quick to help those she identifies as having a problem. From years of yearning to be “liked,” a more mature San has learned to let opinions of herself vary as they will. Importantly, she wants her actions to speak regardless of how people perceive her appearance. Her developed empathy allows her to forgive quickly and judge minimally. San would describe her empathy and unfettered altruism as her best traits.
-----Of course, being self-sacrificing sacrifices something; regarding San, she spends a lot of time outside her own head. She can be aggressive in the way she pursues other peoples’ interests, not to mention over-sharing with their issues and her own when she believes they need help. Or: when San believes you need help, you’ll get it, oftentimes on her terms; her natural intuition butts against her stubbornness, meaning San is not always self-aware of how her well intentions can affect others. Recklessness is something she also struggles with, having a tendency to overlook potential consequences in a rush to get things done. San is easy to distract with new, shiny, one-note interests, and all the connections she make tend to blend together, explaining why despite being an open book she doesn’t have many long-term friendships. San really is drifting through life and that totally ignored that she is objectively intelligent. She can recall and apply information with high efficiency; she has considerable spatial awareness; she can be compelling and charismatic in interpersonal interactions. Unlike most nerds, San doesn’t consider her intelligence the definition edge to her personality. She wouldn’t really know what to call herself – again, she doesn’t spend especial time self-reflecting – but she does put her outgoing nature as top priority and the lengths she’ll go to for others are often admirable.
-----On Pokémon, San eschews the anthropocentrism of typical Trainers having since childhood ascribed to a sense of spiritualism regarding the creatures: seeing Pokémon as mystical, beyond complete comprehension. Because of this, she sees herself as obligated to serve her future teammates first and foremost. She generally dislikes beating other Pokémon down in a fight and would rather find creative solutions to winning a battle. She is a strong believer in the idea that there are “no bad Pokémon,” only misguided trainers. With a forbearing attitude, San embraces the whims of fate rather than attempts to contrive and nitpick an ideal future team and defends the many weirdos of the Pokémon world with fervency. This all in mind, San also has a collector’s habit and craves the feeling of accomplishment that team-building brings. Pokemon with different forms mesmerize her — she has to have them all!
-- ♪
-----Pokemon themselves had always and only been at the periphery of San’s childhood; it was never expected that she become a trainer, and so stubbornly, she latched onto her idealized version of it. Living vicariously through the showcase idols and bombastic league challengers on television, San’s tenth birthday came and went; she thundered through the hallways with Bug Pokemon she found in the garden, under the floorboards, ordering attacks like “Super Spin-Out!” She held out through receiving her first Eevee as a partner. And it wasn’t that San found her life at the time unfulfilling. She was actually orphaned at birth; it was believed her parents passed in an accident. The woman she would only know as Okasan entered her life at several months old. She spoke with mysticism and ambiguity about a brilliant rainbow bringing her there and it was San who returned with her to the autumnal paradise of Ecruteak, to her okiya, a school for budding geisha. There, the girl had a family and an education more or less equivalent to most trainer academies. Yet, an underlying tension was bubbling up for the intrepid little girl, one exacerbated by Okasan’s strict regimen and scoldings to “wait.” Years in, they would have a falling-out, leaving San to storm out with her Eevee in tow. The teenager entered the city with a hazy plan to win Erica’s badge and a lustrous passion–with no preparation.
-----Eventually, little San was targeted for her inexperience, a poacher snatching her Eevee out from under her nose. So in what seemed instantaneous, her potential to train went up in smoke; she was stuck in the bustling city of Celadon with no help, an obduracy to never go back home and get it. San was determined she could make it on her own, so she found odd jobs for cash. This led to her accepting her first modeling gig: one-time work for a local fashion designer. All that experience walking in okobo and walking right cumulated in a comfort level and a further pursuit and acquisition of similar gigs. The exposure would help her get scouted at sixteen by a Kanto fashion agency. San reunited with her birth home in the rainbow city to continue modeling. Tribulations were mild, the work was easy and profitable, and the first day she appeared on live TV for Celadon’s Fashion Week, she couldn’t help but imagine the looks on her old friends’ faces.
-----This new San-san was far bigger than the old girl had been, she thought. Mellowed out compared to previous zealousness; far less ambitious; less dreaming, more doing. (And using.) The only thing Old San had going for her was a support group– friends and found family. New San compensated over several years with what her agent called “prospective publicity nightmares,” or the occasional raring party. San-san wore her hell-throwing, bubbly-insanity with pride– as long as people showed up. And enabled her. But the end result of several reckless years crashed into her and (literally) struck her sober.
-----She woke up one Friday in the general hospital.
-----San had eighty missed calls from the woman, Okasan, and the nurses outside in the hall she could hear: “It’ll be miraculous if she wakes up. Poor girl; how could someone so young throw it all away?” Looking out her window onto the cityscape, higher than any skyscraper or radio tower, a rainbow trailed out into a bright, sun-bleached horizon. The shadow of a large, crested bird flew away – she swears. Entoptic glitter blinded her; she blinked, and the creature was gone. What was it Okasan had mentioned before she was adopted, of a rainbow, of a bird…?
-----She would spend several months in recovery, but it was that moment San realized she had come full-circle in her life. The little girl who wanted to catch bugs and battle was still there. And it was a miracle that she had lived; it was only right to take full advantage and pursue the one dream she’d held repressed since childhood. Her agency remained tight-lipped on reinstating her contract either way, so San moved out to the Johtonese countryside, tracked down her old okiya, and stumbled onto her Okasan to beg, plea, and sob for forgiveness. Granted, the old woman pulled some strings for her to start her second chance.
G o a l s :
W i s h l i s t :
T r i v i a :
- See every place in Johto.
- Have all the Spinda patterns and love them forever.
- See a contest live.
- Buy a house in Alola for Okasan to retire in.
- Help everyone and anyone she can.
W i s h l i s t :
!!! !!!
T r i v i a :
- Her name (in the wrong order; whoops) should mean “three-sixty,” as in the 360 degrees in which she turned her life around (or Spinda’s 360 base stat total…)
- Her favorite Pokemon type is Bug, but she doesn’t have a least favorite.
- She can play the flute but hasn’t practiced in a while.
- In school, the other girls would call out “Rokujuu-san” while pretending to be her personal servants to try and tease her. It bothered her then, but nowadays she thinks “San-san” is an endearing nickname.
- She’s bat-blind without her contacts which she tends to rub out and lose.
App Complete: [YES]
🗩