[attr="class","rostername”]@rosalind

[attr="class","rostersub"]a twenty-three year old counselor from rigel city

[attr="class","rostercat”]ROSALIND CALDWELL

[attr="class","rostercat”]23

[attr="class","rostercat”]FEMALE

[attr="class","rostercat”]HETEROSEXUAL

[attr="class","rostercat”]RESEARCHER

[attr="class","rostercat”]FIRE

[attr="class","rostercat2"]Rosalind is someone caught in the process of change. The person she was for the first seventeen years of her life is someone she never wants to be again, but who she is now is still a mystery to her. But certain pieces of her personality are starting to settle in the aftermath; for one thing, she’s an incurable extrovert. Outgoing and talkative (some would consider, to a fault), she’s rarely the type to avoid social situations. Loneliness wilts her, and extended isolation is a good recipe for emotional implosion.

Historically, her attitude around others has been an acidic, false-faced confidence. Which is to say, she used to be more bold in conversation than she is now, but she made for uncomfortable company. Shyness is something she had never experienced until very recently, but the past few years have changed her approach toward other people considerably. A niggling sense of shame over her background has caused her to become timid about certain things. She’ll cheerily chat about ideas, events, and other such subjects for hours on end, but if the other person shows more than a cursory interest in Rosalind herself, she tends to clam up. Also, whenever her own speech slips back into old habits, whether harmless or not, it can leave her excessively and inexplicably (from the perspective of the other person) embarrassed.

Shame aside, there’s one thing she’s always bold about: her sense of right and wrong. Just like everything else about her, this is still very much in flux, but what she does believe she believes with fiery, outspoken passion. Her driving principle in life is that people should never be mistreated, and that those with the ability to help should always do so. This conviction of her’s is a new thing, something more felt in the heart than articulated in the head, but she’s determined to follow it no matter what it costs her. Rosalind’s particular burden in life is helping pokemon who have been mistreated by humans, a sort of ongoing quest of redemption from her past.

This newfound idealistic bent is hindered significantly by her utter lack of practical skills and knowledge. Having been pampered most of her life, she is far from a well-trained adult, lacking practice in many of the basic things that someone living independently has to do. Laundry, cooking, and simple budget-keeping are all intimidating enigmas to her. On top of that, her goal of counseling troubled pokemon is bound to become complicated very quickly, due to having no personal experience in the area. And getting advice from her mentor over the phone is only going to help her so much. Many steep learning curves await her on her journey.

And speaking of learning curves, the process of forming her own identity is still an uphill battle. Often she falls back into old patterns; when circumstances get hard or when she gets tired, Rosalind can fall into irritable, moody fits reminiscent of how she used to be. In such times, she has a habit of exploding at people, and then locking herself away and hiding from the world in shamed solitude. This is only compounded by the fact that, of all things, she is still very new and awkward in the art of apologizing.

All in all, Rosalind is someone desperate for family and guidance, but still too unsure of herself and too haunted by pride to wholeheartedly embrace either. She treats her ideals like the weapons they are, but is poorly trained in how to use them. And by anyone’s measure, she’s bitten off much more than she can chew in choosing to start a pokemon journey. But with a little luck, a lot of help, and (one can hope) the unending patience of her team, she might just find something worth all the trouble.

[attr="class","rostercatsub2"]PERSONALITY

[attr="class","rostercat2"]The Caldwells are one of the wealthier families in Inset. They have no name recognition, but they do own a few of the most successful (if not glamorous, unless accounting firms are your thing) businesses in the region. Considering that Inset has been largely agrarian until recent years, the Caldwells are rare ducks in this regard. This to say, Rosalind grew up very comfortably.

But as is often the case, their wealth did very bad things to their ethics. Mrs. Caldwell’s prized possession was an expansive collection of pokemon, who she treated as living decorations instead of people. Her taste in aesthetic mutations was insatiable, and she wasn’t above questionable breeding practices (or straight-up hiring poachers) in order to get them.

Growing up, Rosalind accepted this as normal. She accepted everything about her family’s lifestyle as normal, and became something of a stereotypical rich kid brat as a result; she had a strong sense of entitlement, and a stronger sense of superiority. She was never terribly popular with her teachers, what with being an unmotivated (though naturally clever) student. Her peers were equally wary—she made some friends, but most found her too petty or mean to be good company. And her parents weren’t much about “family,” being busy with their own projects.

More than anything else, Rosalind’s upbringing was very lonely. As it so happened, the closest thing she found to real companionship was in her family’s pokemon. While many of them were bitter and spiteful about their treatment, there were some who treated her with stubborn kindness, in spite of it all. One of them was a rare white-furred arcanine who called himself Kulech, even though Mrs. Caldwell had nicknamed him Darcy. Slowly, he became her closest friend. (Though she would never have called him that at the time—she still thought of them too much as animals.) He comforted her through many a nasty breakup, and was a constant font of gentle advice. She rarely followed that advice, granted, but over time she grew more comfortable hearing his thoughts.

As they talked more, Kulech began to speak frankly about the problems with her family’s treatment of pokemon. At first, Rosalind found it almost impossible to see things from his perspective. But at his urging, she began to pay closer attention to how her parents spoke to them—the way they spoke with condescension and authoritarian force, and never had civil conversations with them. What’s more, Rosalind began to notice the same things in herself. For the first time, she became truly aware of what she was doing, and it made her intensely uncomfortable.

Her first reaction to all this was anger. Not at herself and her family, but rather aimed at Kulech for shattering her comfortable naïveté. It came to a head in a heated argument; though, it was less an argument and more Rosalind screaming furiously at the arcanine while he waited out the storm in patient silence. Growing more and more frustrated, she slapped his muzzle—and immediately cringed away, expecting the massive pokemon to lash back. But he didn’t. He only watched her, looking equal parts surprised and heartbroken.

Rosalind collapsed in tears. After years of conversation and debate, it was the fact that such a powerful pokemon would refuse to hurt her back that broke her. She was never the same after that night. Conflicts with her parents became a regular thing, and as much as Kulech advised her to speak gently, things usually dissolved into shouting matches. At school, Rosalind suddenly faded into the background; she gave up her passive-aggressive bullying, and instead kept her head down and focused on doing her work. It was still lonely, but it felt better, somehow. And her teachers took notice. One in particular, Ms. Braviary, offered to tutor her as she worked to get caught up from a lifetime of slacking off.

The next year was her senior year. By then, her relationship with her parents had soured considerably. She was weeks away from graduation when a particularly nasty fight broke out over Mrs. Caldwell’s newest breeding plans. It ended in tearful anger from Rosalind and icy scorn from her mother. Kulech sat up with her well into the night, helping her calm down. When she came home from school the next afternoon, she found the arcanine gone. As she frantically searched the house, one of the other pokemon finally told her that he had been sold. It had been hasty—an act of spite.

Rosalind would have traded everything she had to get him back. But when she confronted Mrs. Caldwell, she refused to tell her who the buyer was. Too disgusted and heartbroken to stay, she hastily packed her things and left. Having nowhere else to go, she took a bus back to school and showed up at Ms. Braviary’s office, shaking and desperate as she explained her situation. The woman, a bachelorette living on her own in a tiny apartment, took Rosalind in.

After graduation, Ms. Braviary hooked her up with a job; one of her friends, a counselor for psychologically disturbed pokemon, needed an administrative intern. Rosalind hadn’t expected to ever need a job, but her choices were limited, and she was afraid of presuming on her teacher’s kindness. So she took the job, and started work immediately.

She found her duties fatally boring, but her boss’s work was absolutely fascinating. Much to her shame, she recognized many of the anxious and neurotic symptoms in their patients—many of her family’s pokemon had demonstrated the same. But what really astounded her was that her boss (named Althea) could help them. It often took a lot of hard work and time (Rosalind worked there for three years), but the difference was tangible. Damage could be undone.

Rosalind asked her how she came to be a counselor. Unlike with human counselors, there wasn’t a strict licensing system. It was something Althea had taught herself how to do, mostly through hard experience. When, bashfully, Rosalind asked how she could become a counselor, her boss was unexpectedly ecstatic. People who specialized in counseling pokemon were rare, and Althea didn’t have enough time in the day to see everyone who needed help. Needless to say, she was enthusiastic in encouraging Rosalind’s interest. She suggested that the best way for Rosalind to start her training was by jumping straight into the deep end, traveling the region and gathering a team of pokemon who needed help. Althea promised to give her as much advice as she needed over the phone; and not only that, but she also offered Rosalind a humble stipend to live on, until she found some way to make her journey sustainable.

It was an offer she couldn’t refuse. So, still struggling with adulthood and independence, Rosalind struck out on her own to start her journey. With any luck, she hoped to help a pokemon or two in the process. And if, during her wandering, she happened to run into the person who bought Kulech—well, she wouldn’t complain.

[attr="class","rostercatsub2"]HISTORY