SARIEL DUONG

"in a world with false gods and false idols, who will tell the truth?"

a bereaved mother who became a refugee after the sootopolis takeover took her daughter in the process. she took refuge in lilycove for about three years, taking on odd jobs and grieving until she made enough money to come back to her home in sootopolis.

sariel had a child when she was young, and so she grew up as an impoverished single mother. she doesn't know much about pokemon, and she has a deep hatred for legendaries and avatarships because she thinks that that humanity isn't fit to control them. to achieve her goals, sariel wants to become a stronger trainer, and will likely join the RANGERS as part of the incoming draft. in the future, she may establish EDEN, an anarchist group with a final goal to kill legendaries and reject avatarships.

personality-wise, sariel is a strict and serious woman who takes her jobs seriously. she is still deeply affected by the sootopolis takeover, and thus has both negative views towards rockets and rangers, particularly ones who have avatarships. but she is still a mother at heart, and has a soft spot towards weak or struggling trainers. expect her to get worse and more radicalized with time, as she has a long road ahead of her.

PLOT HOOKS

TRUTH SEEKERS

FAILURE IS NOT AN OPTION

sariel, while usually a solidary woman, is inclined to look for those that have 'potential' to live out her ideas, she is more than willing to project her own ideas and values to those who she deems worthy (or malleable). ideally, these should be young and idealistic trainers that are willing to listen to her ideas. in theory, it may work similar to eden's 'heir' in the future. she is a tough mentor who uses tough love as a learning tool. similar to arlecchino and the house of the hearth from genshin impact.

also looking for antagonists, those who disagree, and those who want to be questioned.

SOOTOPOLIS NATIVE

HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS

sariel was born and raised in sootopolis, and much like many of the people who lived there, was a deeply religious and spiritual woman. and recently, has come back to live in sootopolis since it's her original home. if you have lived in sootopolis, or are there to visit rocket HQ, you have probably seen her around. while she has lost faith her deities (kyogre, groudon, and rayquaza,) she still has spiritual inclinations and is more than willing to discuss religion.

THREAD IDEAS

TO BECOME A SOLDIER
since sariel evacuated with a ranger during the sootopolis takeover, she likely kept in touch with said ranger and sends gifts as a thank you for saving her. this ranger will probably come to mind first when she applies for the draft. tell her what to expect, the good and the bad.

FIGHT WITH YOUR TEETH
sariel had her child when she was a teenager, and as a result, did not have a proper education growing up. she doesn't know what may be common knowledge, such as type advantages, movesets, and about pokemon in general. she will need some teaching, and might take on unique or strange habits since she is new to being a trainer. why don't you test it out with her?

TO BE LOVED IS TO BE CHANGED
sariel will eventually witness her pokemon evolving in the process of training. but she is a spiritual person who also has control issues, and considering that these pokemon do not revert to their past forms, she will want to grieve for them. be a person that she trusts, and create a ritual that will honor the pokemon's past form, and bless the new one.

the false foxglove was one of the few flowers she would come close to saying ugly; small and insignificant, with its bulbous proportions and parasitic nature. her lips curl at the thought of putting them in the garden, and alongside the pristess's cryptic words, likening it to sariel's person.

the words linger in the air, heady and thick in the silence. the priestess leans out the window, and when she knocks over some of my-hoa's belongings, sariel is quick to catch them, her maternal instincts kicking in. one by one, they fall into her open hands: a figurine, a book, bottle of lotion that was far past its due date. she growls as she pulls the objects together and cradles them to her chest. these were common objects, bought from the market. their worth was worth sariel's life hundreds of times over; how sentimental she felt towards these ordinary objects surprised her.

because my-hoa would be upset if they broke.

"priestess–" she calls, but her words fall on deaf ears.

the other baubles are set safely back where they came from, but the last one is still yet to be safe, and she's not quick enough to catch it. it is a glass bauble in the shape of a terastallized eevee; pink for its type. she gasps as it falls to the ground, shattering into a million pieces. sariel's hand quickly follows, crashing into the broken glass. searing pain burns through her palm as the shards dig into her hand, blood weeping from her open wounds.

it hurt. broken glass always did, but nothing hurt more than witnessing another death. a death of a memory, as if a part of my-hoa had been shorn away.

she cries out, her face twisted into an ugly snarl as she takes her hand and shoves it against the priestess's back.

but then in the same motion she clenches her hands, glass and blood and fury in its motions, wrenching the gathered the fabric back. she lets the priestess fall back against her body, now suddenly full of regret. so much had happened in an instant that she had been shocked into silence, her body acting on impulse rather intention. sariel has never killed before; the thought made her heart beat loud and quick in her ears, rushing adrenaline that makes her hands shake.

she was afraid.

"what..." she holds the priestess, her hand still gripped tightly onto her dress, now stained red with sariel's blood. she breaths, shaky and deep and tries to think; to calm the storm inside. her voice comes out calm, yet barely restrained.

"what do you want from me, priestess?"

verona santillian

she had heard the humming from the room and followed it, recognizing as a derivative of one of the temple's hymms. sariel had thought that her mind was playing tricks on her. but she thinks, having now seen the actual truth, that she would have preferred to lose her mind than to see the harbinger again. she may only be a messenger, but every message comes with her personal venom; sickening and painful, but not enough to die.

it is the curse of living that haunts sariel duong, not the blissful release of death.

in some ways, the thought gives her comfort, as much as my-hoa's room does. only, there was no solace when her daughter's resting place had been so thoroughly disturbed. and so her objective now was to get this intruder out—by any means necessary.

the window leading to outside this room gives them the full view of sootopolis's cliffs, battered from the sea. sariel had always been so fearful of that window, and a mother worries like no other. she had always imagined herself staring down at those cliffs, wondering if her daughter would ever fall into the slippery currents running underneath.

she doesn't have to wonder now. that is a fault of her own.

"even dead roses have thorns."

sariel has been restrained thus far, but her patience was wearing thin.

she walks to the woman, looming over her and standing so close that she can smell the scents of her perfume. light citrus and the scent of lit incense, burning to the nose. it brings her back to the temple, the ceremonies and prayers pressed into their collective memories. in her eyes is a distant place; she peers out into those cliffs with a bitterness so strong that she can taste it in the back of her mouth, and it coats her tongue with such hatred that she has to spit it out like a spoiled meal.

"and birds that chirp too loud are the first to get shot."

tempting as it was to see the priestess's broken body among the rocks, sariel keeps herself for committing such an act, if only because she needed not to defile the resting place of her daughter. she so badly wanted to make the priestess suffer as the gods had to her.

but even so, she wondered: if she pushed this parasitic bird out of her nest, would it still fly?

verona santillian

for better or worse, sootopolis city has changed.

she had not stepped foot here in for three years. since she had left, the pain of past memories, as well as the presence of occupiers, still present, have always prevented her from returning to her homeland. but she had promised to herself that she would eventually return. her homeland had always called to her, its weak yet constant pull, a call of a ghostly apparition. and for someone like sariel; that ghost was her daughter.

she wanted to see her daughter again.

when she came upon her house, it seemed frozen in time. the flowers on the windowsill were strangely alive, basking in the sun, and her garden maintained. she thought this odd. perhaps the neighbor had done her a favor? the key she had kept so close slid into the keyhole easily, and when she turned, she braced herself for what she would see.

the smell of her home hits her first; the fresh scent of stone and wood, of linen and just the smidge of roses, which she had so lovingly surrounded the house with. it was just as if she had woken up from a deep slumber. three years a refugee was far too long for an old woman like her. but in spite of lost time, taking off her shoes under the doorway felt like a step back towards the past. old scents and old sights; each room hit her with such a strange sense of nostalgia that it was almost too overwhelming.

and then there was the last room. the door to her house had remained closed for three years, and yet this was the only room she dreaded opening. she had dreamed about this room; turning the handle and finding her daughter there, waiting for her. despite knowing that her child was deceased and that they may never find her body, she still holds on to the hope that one day, she would find her daughter alive and well.

surely, the gods took joy in her misplaced hope.

she takes a deep breath before wrapping her fingers around the handle, turning it and letting the door swing open. the room was just as messy as they had left it.

only...

there's someone here.

someone who does not belong.

her feet remained planted on the ground, but her eyes latched onto to the strange with a mixture of hate and hope. rage pulses through her veins, and yet she could not summon it to the surface. she speaks to the intruder in a calm tone, barely simmering.

"i thought you dead, priestess."

verona santillian