// Shadow of the Day \\

[Atoli]

Name- Azoth
Nickname- Azo
Gender- Male
Age- 14
DOB- December 21st
Sexuality- Unsure
Species- Poke’Morph (Houndour)
Profession- Pokemon Trainer

Appearance- Black tangled hair, roughly combed with a broken comb. His bangs are several days past the time to get a haircut, the back of his hair longer than the average boys. He has dull blue eyes and his ribs are clearly visible from malnutrition; though he has muscles from having worked to survive for over 6 years. He has a naturally quiet voice, probably a cause of something he caught when he was younger that had lasted effect.
Being skilled in stealing, his clothes are better than the normal street rats. He wears a sleeveless black shirt with a red symbol of the moon on the center of it. His pants are cargo, reaching just above his ankles; a size to small and just above his knee a zipper is over-laid by fabric, the zipper can be unzipped to remove the lower part of his pants. He carries a small ragged bag patched with black fabric that he carries over his shoulders and can surprisingly carry a large amount of items.
Having grown up just barely getting a few meals a day, Azoth stands only about 4’7 and easily gets offended when made fun of for his height.



Personality- Having spent 8 years of his life alone, the only person he interacted with being his mother, and then being abandoned on the side of the street and five years later having a best friend betray you, Azoth is of the anti-social type. He doesn’t get along well with many people, especially adults; and even in large groups he usually remains silent, listening quietly to the conversation, but not participating. You’re lucky if Azoth considers you a friend, or even gets along with you, as it is hard to gain the trust of him, someone who has experienced all sides of betrayal.
The only things that Azoth truly gets along with are his Pokemon, having been shunned almost his whole entire life by humans, he appreciates how Pokemon don’t look down on him because he’s different. Even when he was younger, back before life started happening, he would play with the Pokemon in the alleyways…and talk to them, being one of the few in The Black Dragon group who was able to talk to Pokemon as if they spoke the same language as him.
Azoth has good control, if you can call it that, over his emotions and rarely shows any sign of happiness in his emotions, even when he wins a battle he shows no change in his expression: a look of betrayal, a look of hate.
Azoth has a very negative look on life and doesn’t enjoy anything that most other people enjoy, he hates chocolate, hates the sun, despises the thought of having friends. Not much can make him happy. One of the only, if not THE only, thing that can make him happy is interacting with his own Pokemon. Talking with them, he can tell them anything and know that they will never betray him, when he’s with his Pokemon is probably the only time that he actually talks, hardly more than a few words leave his mouth when with humans, when on one sided conversations, most of his responses are very negative to the person he is talking to.
Azoth is easily ticked off when made fun of, though, or when he is called cute because of his Houndour parts. It’s just another of the few things that can set off the aggressive side in his personality. In which he can become quite violent and doesn’t even worry about the harm he does to other people, he could never worry about things like that while living on the street.
Despite how he hates to admit it, Azoth is horrible at math, having never been properly schooled he never learned math and when it comes to cash he’s at a loss. He’s mastered reading and writing, though.
Azoth has the random skill of being able to name any Pokemon by just its silhouette, he can name a majority of Pokemon for each type and can name them all off in order by number; his skill having come from spending much time alone and just with other Pokemon. Not many people know he can do this, though, because of the fact that he doesn’t even talk much.



History- Azoth was abandoned by his young mother on the side of the road when he was a mere 8 years old. Azoth was born to a single mother, who was more than shocked when she discovered her newborn child had the parts of a Pokemon, her reluctance to simply abandon Azoth right away was all that kept him alive. Azoth grew up in the safety of his own home, never once had he left the home once he had returned from the hospital. He was never taught to read, or write, he had never felt the feeling of cool dew that rested on the grass in the early morning, never felt the wet raindrops that fell from the sky, or felt the heat from a noon day sun. It was the only life that Azoth knew.

When Azoth turned 8, for the first time he left the house, accompanied by his mother, he didn’t know that it would be the last time he would see her. The single mother drove him down to a secluded area in the city where she dropped him off on the side of the street before quickly speeding away. Azoth would have died in just a couple of weeks if he hadn’t been found by a group of kids who also lived on the streets, in the same situation he was in. Perhaps his mother had known about the group, not wanting to give up her child, but at the same time knowing that her own life was in danger if she kept her child, she had found this group to care for him.

Each of the children in the group, titled The Black Dragons, had been abandoned, left for dead…and for the same reason…poke’morphs. In the city Azoth grew up in, poke’morphs were shunned, thought of as demons sent into the world, neither human nor Pokemon; hanging in the center of both worlds. Those who were found to be poke’morphs were immediately sentenced to death, no matter how innocent the being was, it was said to be a curse if you bore the parts of a Pokemon. A curse if you gave birth to a poke’morph. Azoth had no idea how he had survived the hospital, nobody in The Black Dragons knew how they had survived their births, though some did, like a young boy named Jay, who had been born to a teenage mother and instantly abandoned on the streets, just barely kept alive by several of the older girls, he was the same age as Azoth and the two quickly became best friends.

There were all types of poke’morphs in The Black Dragon group. Azoth’s friend, Jay,
had the parts of a Starly, he had black and grey wings exposed from his back and from his knee down he was covered in feathers. Two twins bore resemblances to Pichu’s, they were the mischievous couple, always getting into trouble and then getting out of it at the last second. It was obvious the leader of the group, Blint, a Pidgeot morph, disliked the couple. Azoth, himself, bore parts similar to that of a Houndour, with black pointed ears sticking out of messy, black hair and a small, black pointed tail sticking out from a hole in his torn, denim jeans. He even had irremovable silver bracelet like objects around his ankles.

Years passed while he lived with The Black Dragons, older members teaching Azoth about the many different Pokemon and even teaching him how to read and write, Azoth quickly became close friends with everyone as they lived the rough life on the streets; sometimes not getting food for days at a time. As Azoth grew older, his memories of his mother became distant until he could no longer remember her face, could not remember the look she had when she left him. He could only remember watching her car turn around the corner and disappear from sight, the cold chill of the evening wind against his bare legs, the wool sweater he had been given providing little comfort against the wind; then there was the scent of smoke billowing from overhead chimneys filling his nostrils. A car slowing down and a face staring out at him before speeding up and turning the same corner his mother had taken; salty tears filling his eyes, pouring down his cheeks, and then, the feeling of a warm, gloved hand grabbing his wrist, the shaky outline of a human motioning to him, tugging him in the direction of the alleyway. He could remember so much from that day, remember everything, except his mother. He remembered being pulled into the alleyway, surrounded by chattering humans, shaking violently, not from the cold, but from the fact that he had never been in the presence of so many people before in his life. He remembered his tears being wiped away, staring into the deep green eyes of a young girl with short green hair, flared at the tips; atop her head she bore the ears of a Pokemon that Azoth now knew of as Leafeon. She was the girl who took care of Azoth, helping him to overcome the sudden shock of new surroundings, overcome the fact that his mother had left him. Some of the older boys filled his head with things such as “never trust adults, you trust them and you’re dead” and “leave your fear behind, if you hesitate, your life is over”. At his young age, these things only frightened Azoth, but as he grew older he knew they were true; if he feared, if he hesitated, he could get caught and be put to death. Every living day he had to be cautious, if he wasn’t cautious then he would be caught, if he was caught, he’d be put to death. He couldn’t live each day in fear; it only caused hesitation when he had to do what he needed to do to survive another day. He had already learned that when the Leafeon girl who had helped him had hesitated while stealing food, they couldn’t buy it, no one sold to a poke’morph, trying to buy from a store only called for a death wish; so they were always required to steal their food, she hesitated for a split second while heading towards the door with the stolen goods, and in that split second a stray piece of bread dropped from under her shirt and the gig was up, she was caught. Azoth hadn’t seen her since that day. He was only 10 at the time, his first whiff of death, of what happened if you faltered his Azoth like a rocket, he couldn’t rescue the girl, he was weak...he was powerless against the higher-ups.

By the time Azoth was 13, he had forgotten his own last name, rather he had forgotten it as he gave up all memories of his mother, or if he had truely just forgotten it on his own, not even he knew; but as his life continued...it started to crash. It seemed that one of the poke’morphs, who also happened to be one of his best friends, always hanging out with Jay and him, had forgotten to watch and make sure no one followed her back to the hideout, she had been a part of the guild for a whole year and was widely trusted, but her simple fault led a group of policemen right to the hideout the group had shared for years. Tables overturned, wooden seats fell backwards, breaking in pieces as the large group scrambled to escape being caught. Screams pierced the skies as blow darts punctured the skin of poke’morph after poke’morph. There was only one girl who wasn’t be attacked, the very girl who had been followed, the very person Azoth had the most connection with after the girl who cared for him was captured, the one Azoth later learned had betrayed their guild, she had never been abandoned, it was all a lie, she was one of the lucky few who were given freedom and who worked for the police to help capture other poke’morphs. She fought against her own kind!

Only 16 of the 34 members in The Black Dragons managed to escape the surprise attack. Azoth was one of those lucky few who managed to escape, being fast and with good evasive skills. Among the others who had escaped were a Zigzagoon morph, Chimchar morph, a Jolteon morph, a Luxray morph, and one of the Pichu twins, as well as Blint, the Pidgeot morph and leader of their guild. Several others Azoth didn’t know that well had also managed to survive the attack. Blint tried to get everything under control, but with the sudden attack, and the fact that one of their own kind had helped, had ruined the trust of each other by many of the survivors. Best friends now doubted their very friendships, wondering if their long-time friend would one day turn their back on them like the girl had. Azoth was included in this loss of trust. None of his best friends had made it out alive, and only god would ever know what happened to them now.

Azoth no longer wanted anything to do with the group, he never wanted to be betrayed again, relationships…all they had ever caused him was pain and heartbreak. Abandonment, Betrayal, Mistakes…his life had been full of them, and the cause: Weakness…fear…love. The night of the day that the betrayal had happened, Azoth gathered up his few belongings, the sweater he had been left with when his mother abandoned him; which no longer fit him as he continued to grow, cash he had collected over the years and kept to himself, as well as several stolen clothing items, still in good condition, and some bread. He tossed it all into a bag, which was hardly more than rags, and head off, abandoning the city he had grown up in, abandoning the few companions he had left, abandoning everything. It was time for a new beginning.

[Azrael]

Approved, very uncommon