Alright, I'm all done! Here's my completed SU, unless there are any changes you'd like me to make to it.
As a human, Thomas is a thin, medium-height, adolescent individual. His build is of the lanky sort, and not very muscular, due to the simple fact that, no matter how much he ate, his body refused to put on even a single inch of bulk. The hair department was one area in which he is not lacking, with the shaggy, unruly, sandy-brown bush atop his head extending a fourth of the way down his neck and long, ever-present bangs hanging down amid his glasses, obscuring his vision more than his near-sightedness and the scratches on his lenses combined. His eyes are a light sea green, and his hair is in the habit of sticking up in all directions if left unchecked, which is often the case. When standing straight up, the tips of his fingers dangle around the upper quarter of his legs. His outfit-of-choice is a light brown T-shirt with a tangle of dark-colored spirals running up its left side and down the back, a pair of dark blue pants with a with a vertical white stripe in the center of each leg, tan socks, and black-and-grey shoes. Needless to say, color-coordination, or any kind of coordination, for that matter, is not his strong suit.
Thomas is generally introverted, and can be rather anti-social, preferring to keep to himself instead of putting his pride on the line and seeking out friendships. There aren't many people he's grown particularly close to. He can also be rather clumsy at times, and doesn't always think things through. This contrasts with his partially-hyperactive and energetic personality, meaning he often does more harm than good in his efforts, though he can be a very determined individual if he sets his mind to something and sticks with it. His energy waxes and wanes, however, to be periodically replaced with bouts of lethargy and depression. Sometimes, he can be a bit of a coward, and lacks the boldness and outgoing nature that others possess.
Thomas was born in the Johto town of Goldenrod City, but moved to Azalea Town at the age of eight, a very striking change of scenery from his previous residence in the sprawling, urban metropolis of Goldenrod. He adjusted fairly quickly to the new location, however, making himself at home in the comparably small village. After a few months of living there, while wandering outside one day, he discovered the beauty that was the Ilex Forest right next door, the existence of which he had not been aware of before, despite its incredibly close proximity to his new abode. Walking around, feet treading rather noisily upon the soft grass and leaves that made up the forest floor, he looked up in awe, taking in the clear blue skies and towering treetops high up above him. Speaking of trees, he had never seen so many in one place before in his life, the sheer magnitude of nature overwhelming his senses and, quite frankly, his mind. He spent the entire rest of that day in the Forest, only coming home when he looked up and suddenly realized there were stars in the sky. After comforting his – understandably – distraught parents, assuring them he was perfectly alright, and explaining to them where he had been that day, he spent most of his free time the next several months exploring the area, and pretty soon he knew the majority of it like the back of his hand, though he purposefully left some areas unvisited, saving them for later expeditions should boredom ever overtake him.
On Thomas’s tenth birthday, he became eligible for a Pokémon Trainer’s License, and after a brief session of pleading and begging with his parents, they finally gave in and allowed him to apply. After a few weeks of study, and three retakes, he finally managed to scrape by on the test, and was awarded his License, an item which he coveted dearly. It wasn’t until three months later, though, that he was actually able to use it, due to the scheduling of Pokémon distribution. Unfortunately, he woke up late on that fateful morning, having forgotten to set his alarm clock in the midst of all the excitement. After a mad dash down to New Bark Town and Professor Elm’s Laboratory, he was heartbroken to find that all the starter Pokémon had already been given out, with nothing left but a single, empty Pokéball, which he reluctantly accepted. Thomas stayed in the Forest all that night, stooped in a deep melancholy, eventually falling asleep in a small clearing.
The next morning, Thomas was aroused from slumber by a rustling noise emanating from a nearby bush. Slowly crawling over to the source of the sound, he reached out his hand, arm shaking, and pulled back the leaves of the plant. There, to his surprise, was an Eevee, turning over in its sleep. He watched it for some time, remaining motionless and vigilant, until an idea suddenly struck him. Crawling over to the spot where he had slept, he carefully scooped up his Pokéball and noiselessly worked his way back over the bush. Raising the Pokéball in his hand, he threw it at the softly snoring creature, marveling at the brilliant red light that shot out of the device, enveloping the Eevee and sucking it inside the round container. Anxiously, he eyes the ball as it hit the ground, front light flashing, only breathing when the capture sequence finally completed, the circular spot holding its color and then slowly fading out, indicating the Eevee had been successfully caught. A wave of relief washed over him, followed by a burst of excitement. He had his first Pokémon! At first, upon releasing the creature from its, or rather, his, ball, he was a bit disgruntled at waking up to find he had been abducted in his sleep, but after a while, the two grew together, a bond forming between the Eevee, which Thomas had decided to name "Kain", and his new Trainer.
Time passed, and with it, the world changed as well. Thomas had since left his home of Azalea Town, and went out to explore the world. Eevee became Jolteon, the result of a chance encounter with a Thunderstone left abandoned on the side of the road. One thing remained the same, though, and that was Thomas's Pokémon count, which, unlike that of other Trainers as they progressed, remained at one, with Kain, the four-legged Electric type, as the only Pokémon Thomas owned. One day, much like that day nearly three years ago, found Thomas once again asleep on the forest floor, some short distance from Violet City, this time with Kain drowsing on his stomach, lost in deep slumber. Eyes flickering open, the Trainer stretched his arms, groggily blinking in the morning sun. As he raised his arms, he spotted something out of the corner of his eye, catching the light as it filtered down through the leaves of the trees overhead. Turning his head slightly brought him face to face with his arm, sprouting from which was a long, thin strand of light yellow hair. Sitting up slowly, trying not to disturb the Jolteon resting atop his chest, he reached out with his other hand and brought two fingers together around it, holding the hair in the middle with a pinch-like grip. With a quick, abrupt motion, he pulled the appendage away, plucking the strand from its root. Wincing as a brief jolt of pain shot through his body, he examined the oddly-colored hair through his glasses, squinting to bring his eyes into focus. Then, with a shrug, he released his hold on the strand, at the same time letting out a long, soft breath, and watched as it was picked up by the wind and floated far and away until it drifted outside the range of his field of vision.
Kain, a male Jolteon.
I've done a few RPs before on other forums, but this is my first time posting on this one. I'm a stickler for proper spelling and grammar, and always read and re-read my posts and run them through Word either before or after the fact, though I do most of the actual typing on my iPod Touch. I'll also throw in a quick writing sample for good measure: TARDIS TROUBLE
There it was. The object that he had been searching for for oh, so long. How many years had it been since he left home that fateful morning? He couldn't remember, it was so far back in his memory. They say your brain dumps out unnecessary data periodically; the exact number must have been a casualty of that. It seemed like whenever he wanted to keep a piece of information, to hang onto it, to mark it down in a permanent record, to make sure it was safe, it always ended up that way. Why didn't his mind ever check with him first, before tossing things out willy-nilly like that?
Oh, well. No use dwelling on it now. It wasn't like it really mattered, anyway. Not now. Not when he was so close. Nothing mattered. Nothing in the world. Not even the petty grievances of the world's entire whiney, sniveling population could bog him down now. All that mattered now was taking what was rightfully his, and not letting it fall into anyone else's hands. Not again.
It was so easy, so simple. Ironic how a thousand perilous trials, tribulations, and tests all boiled down to such a trivial matter. All he had to do was outstretch his arm, digits extended, and close them on their target, wrapping them around tightly, as tight as they could possibly go, and yank backwards. Then, it would be his. It was that simple.
So why did nothing feel right?
With a shrug, he shook off his suspicions. Now was not the time for the onset of rampant paranoia. Later, perhaps, but not now. Now was the time for action! Now was the time for doing! Now was the time for getting things done! Now was the time for...
Now was the time for collapsing on the ground, all the colors of the universe melting into nothingness before his very eyes, as a pinprick in the back of his neck distributed tranquilizer fluid into his bloodstream, knocking him out cold nearly instantaneously.