T-017: Valian

Name: Valian
Gender: Male, He / Him
Age: 31 Years Old
Height: 6'4"

Rank: Expert
Residence: Brookfell
Exploration: B- G- R - W - S

History:
What happens when a street urchin finds a crown?
Living in Brookfell had never been easy, but with the outbreak of fusions and the spreading darkness of the Night, things were worse than they had ever been. The dust choked environment of the massive quarry was home to the desperate, the depraved, and the downtrodden. People and pokemon alike, all scraping by and surviving off of anything they could get their hands on. It wasn't uncommon to lose what you had, and much more likely for it to be taken from you.

Whether you made your home in the abandoned tunnel systems, or chose to risk being out in the open by cobbling together improptu shacks on the rough ledges, shelter and safety were necessary for survival. Those with power, or the means to manipulate others take full advantage, and prowl the streets running operations in and out of the city. Illegal activity is rampant, and those who are just trying to get by stay hunkered down and mind their own business. It was under these circumstances that Valian was born and raised.

His mother left first, caught up in a shady deal over some stolen tech headed for Wintervale she had gone out one night and never returned. Valian and his father were both distraught over her loss, and their situation grew increasingly desperate. His father worked in the mines to the point of exhaustion in order to provide for them, having to leave Valian home alone in a city full of folks who wouldnt hesitate to break in at any time. That is, until the night he didnt make it back. Valian would later learn that there had been a cave in, and several unidentified bodies had been removed. He was on his own.

Fast forward through several tough streetfighting, close to starvation, gang afiliated years and we have Valian the young adult. Scrappy, aggressive, and only focused on self preservation he became a part of the rough crowd that plagued Brookfell's residents. He learned to be cold and cruel, to build up walls, and to withhold his trust from everyone. He may not have been happy, but he was safe, and he wasnt alone. This lifestyle carried him through until the outbreak happened, then everything changed once more.

The outbreak of Fusions, Nera, and the Night completely destroyed the status quo in the city. Strange new creatures going on the rampage, and people with the powers of pokemon all breaking loose and destabilizing the longstanding systems of Brookfell's underground (and mostly black market) infrastructure. The weak were given the means to fight back, and the powerful found new ways to game the system. Opportunity, Greed, and Preservation began warring it out in the streets... and the Night was closing in.

Valian was hit pretty early on, taking a Nera full in the chest as the crew rounded a corner. None of them even knew what had happened before the changes started to blossom in him. They looked on with horror as their running man warped and shifted, taking on the terrifying mask of one of history's most famous apex predators. Tyrantrum. The pain was almost unbearable as his DNA fused with that of the ancient pokemon, and his fellow gang members wasted no time in fleeing the scene, leaving him to his fate. It took hours for him to adjust and act consciously again, and every inch of his body looked foreign to him. Finally getting up his nerves felt like they were burned raw, and moving nearly made him lose his footing again. It was when he looked for his 'friends' though, that he felt the most dread. There werent there. Valian was alone again.

The thing about being alone.... is you have a lot of time to yourself. Yes way, its true. His new appearance added to his previous actions and reputation pretty much cut all ties he had with anyone living in Brookfell. He spent his days wandering the dirt paths, where at the very least, he wasnt screamed at or attacked as some kind of monster. This early in the chaos, the stigma and prejudice against him was a powerful enemy. He turned to inward reflection, and looked back on his choices in life. This introspection eventually led him back to his childhood home, and he broke down. As time passed, and hunger gnawed at his belly, he began to come to a realization. If he was broken, then he could be fixed. It was almost second nature for anyone in Brookfell to make something out of scraps. He could be something Useful... He... He didnt have to be a monster. Maybe he could even be... a friend.

It started with a pokemon....

Back on his feet after a few months of scrounging, a well honed skill by this point, Valian had successfully restored his family home. It wasnt much, but built into the cliffs and tucked away in a winding corner of the quarry it was far enough away that he didnt bother anyone unless they made it their business. At first he thought that someone actually HAD made his home their business, after hearing a scuffling and scraping coming from outside. He didnt fear much anymore, the fusion had gifted him plenty of weapons against potential attackers, but he would rather not have his recent work spoiled or wasted by a thief or vandal. Going outside to investigate he was met with quite a surprise. There was... a Pokemon... trying to scramble up the rough scree opposite his house.

It was small, and its movements seemed quite clumsy, as if.. it wasnt used to its own body. Man he knew that feel. Carefully moving closer he was able to recognize some small parts of the Pokemon... but not the whole thing. It was unlike any Pokemon he had ever seen before.... but with the fusions everywhere he guessed that was an obvious giveaway. There was something else about it too though... He watched the creature take a deep breath, then run at the hillside once more. It made up gamely up about 20 feet, before there was a sharp sound of metal on stone, and the poor thing tripped and tumbled back down to slide at his feet. It was manacled. Iron chains attached to a thick ring held both of the front paws of the poor Pokemon, and Valian felt his stomach turn at the cruelty of such a thing. He knew that people battled with Pokemon, but this... this was wrong.

The Pokemon flailed as it realized he was there, desperately trying to flee, but tangling itself even worse in the binding chain. It was only as he knelt down, and the Pokemon saw his face that it froze and relaxed. Valian paused.... The Pokemon wasnt.... afraid? of him? His face that had terrified his friends... that had banished him to this place? The Pokemon crooned and nuzzled his clawed hand... as if... as if they were the same. It was then that he recognized it, the pokemon WAS the same.... he saw some of the same markings that had taken up their place on his flesh. Nodding in understanding, Valian picked up the little creature and brought it inside, he didnt know if anyone was looking for it, but some of the tricks he had picked up in his youth would come in handy here.

A few deft tries at the lock with a makeshift pick-set let it loose with a satisfying click and the pokemon immediately shook the manacles free and began to lick its scraped and bleeding paws. He did his best to take care of the wounded Pokemon, who even after being freed did not seem to want to leave him. It followed him around the house anytime he moved, like an imprinted little duckling.... with TEETH! It also thought that the best means to explore or identify something would be to bite it and toss it around the room. By the end of the evening, Valian had nicknamed him Mr. Bites, and they were becoming bosom buddies. A few men stopped by later that week, saying they were looking for a Rare Fusion that they had captured, but a few minutes of -Convincing- later and they decided to write the whooooole thing off as a bad job. (Didnt sign on for taking a Tyrunt away from a Tyrantrum. NOPE)

And so Valian's refugee camp began. With the help and companionship of his new friend, and his new outlook on life Valian actually managed to generate enough good will to make it back into the city (Even if it was only for supplies). And as time went on, and the Outbreak changed more and more people, the animosity he had experienced before began to dwindle. His newfound protection, and offer of hospitality, protection, and friendship started to be well recieved among a few of the outcast members of Brookfell, and with their help the area around his old home expanded. Bunks were added, caves were lit, and ammenities were brought in to handle the increased occupancy. Things werent perfect, as longstanding grudges, and problems from peoples pasts didnt go away over night, but so far it wasnt anything they couldnt handle. As far as Valian was concerned, if they wanted to come... people.... and pokemon... were allllll welcome here. 

This brings our tale up to date, and we go forward with Valian's current path in Reign's Rest.

Designer: X-LordGreg-X - Artwork by: X-LordGreg-X