feistro | Dec. 18th, 2023

As a member of the Research Commission, Pom came to the New World with the Fifth Fleet, ready to see the sights and do some dootin'. As one of the few dedicated horn players in the Commission, he's often seen around the taverns and hubs, warming up the chilly nights with entertaining tunes and fantastical yarns about monsters from far-off regions. If you ask him where he's from, he'll claim something different every time: one day, he's the bastard son of a submariner, and the next, he's a secret prince who wanted something more than a cushy life of royal pleasures. Only Pom and his Palico, Purl, know the truth.

And that's a truth he'd rather not talk about.

+ personality, observations, etc.

toktopus
♫ In a conversation, he tends to be quick, and always has a good story on hand for those eager to listen. Anyone who asks about his background will receive some wild claims about where he came from, none of them true. He'll tell people himself that he exaggerates for dramatic effect, as no one wants to hear a boring tale.

♫ However, there's a definite duality to him: while he's often seen around the taverns and hubs, playing his horns and livening up the atmosphere after a long day in the field, if you give him a moment alone, he'll wander off without a word, keeping quietly to himself until he feels the need to be "on" again. Some describe him as aloof, as he clearly prefers Purl's company or that of critters to people, even his fellow hunters.

♫ While Pom has his moments of recklessness in the heat of battle, he's quick to run if danger comes his way. As a dedicated horn player, he's fully there to support his team, and prefers to stay out of the fray, even if it means he doesn't get many hits in.

♫ He has what is charitably described by his fellow guild hunters as an unhealthy attachment to and dependence upon his Palico, with the two of them getting anxious when separated from one another for too long. Known for not playing nice with other hunters who wanted him to leave her behind for quests, Pom has largely hunted in pairs with select partners, but as his preferred partner recently retired, he's had to move out of his comfort zone bit by bit, traveling in groups of four that don't allow Purl to come along. It's a work in progress, but he gets into less fist fights about it these days.

♫ He's terribly preoccupied with his appearance, as though he'd like to control how people see -- and what they see of -- him. This extends to the field, where he'll toss a mantle on if it looks like it's going to rain so he doesn't get his hair wet. He wouldn't want to ruin his style, after all. He keeps his glasses on at all times, and always has a reason for it, ranging from a medical excuse to the fact he 'doesn't look cool without them.'

♫ Though he does his best to keep it on a leash, Pom has a short, violent temper -- particularly when it comes to poaching or Purl -- for reasons. He tends to exit conversations about poaching quickly, lending to his aloof manner; as for Purl, it's just best to be nice to her.

♫ Keen hunters may notice that while he's got some definite talent with the hunting horn, he handles his weapons in an unorthodox way: he often uses his left hand to swing rather than his dominant right, his stance is a little uneven, etc. Most trainers wouldn't teach someone to wield a hunting horn that way -- it seems he may be self-taught to some degree, perhaps entirely.

♫ Unlike other Palicos, Purl never refers to Pom as her 'meowster,' and he's utterly averse to the term in general when thrown his way. She always reads things for him, and is usually the one signing up for quests on his behalf. He never seems to write anything longer than his own name, and will 100% brush it off if asked to do so.

♫ He has a number of scars, some more visible than others depending on his outfit. He tends to keep the one on his right arm consistently covered, and those on his face are partially hidden by his facial hair.

+ that extended, secret history

simpledog
Born on the western coast of the Old World, and his older brother, were "conveniently orphaned" when their parents were killed by brigands while traveling northward. Deciding they had just enough scruples to be above child murder, the brigands took the two kids in, bringing them back to their camp. They were a part of the infamous poaching guild Brand, and while poachers normally wouldn't be interested in raising children, they did see potential in the two young boys to be a part of their pack.

While his brother took to archery, had an affinity for the dual blades, with which he showed potential even at a young age. Much like professional hunters, most of the poachers went by titles rather than names. With his fiery orange eyes and the vicious look he got when carving a kill, eventually became "the Wild-Eyed."

The Wild-Eyed was a teenager when Brand picked up an unusual felyne. Ostracized for her vibrant fur color, which was said to be a bad omen among her tribe, the poachers took her in with the intent to sell her later. Rare colors did well with the right kinds of collectors, and until they found such a buyer, they could have her working in the camp as a servant. Nicknamed "Sweet Thing" for her good nature, she and the Wild-Eyed had an instant connection. She stayed in his tent most nights, and her soft demeanor — the gentlest that he could remember, given how young he was when he was taken in by the poachers himself — brought out a kinder side of him.

As the years passed, the Wild-Eyed came to understand what they were doing was wrong, and knowing what might happen to Sweet Thing if they didn't find a buyer — she'd likely be sold to an underground arena to either fight monsters, or be used as bait — he decided he wanted out. He first told the leaders of the gang, the individuals who'd raised him; he announced he was leaving, and that he wanted to take Sweet Thing with him. The poachers weren't happy about the idea of losing one of their better hunters, but they were even less thrilled at the idea of him taking a valuable felyne with him. Assuming he'd back down, they said he could go, but she'd have to stay; the Wild-Eyed indeed backed down... or he seemed to, at least.

He went to his brother instead, telling him that he'd be leaving that night, and he was taking Sweet Thing with him, stealing her away under the cover of darkness. His brother tried to convince him to stay, warning him not to be impulsive, but the Wild-Eyed wasn't having it. His brother could come with them or not, but they were leaving, and that was final.

Unfortunately, his brother was right: his impulsiveness did get him into trouble, largely because his brother ratted him out. Caught soon after their departure, the pair were forced to fight -- and then flee for their lives.

Though they escaped by the skin of their teeth, their flight came with grievous injuries, including an arrow to the Wild-Eyed's shoulder and a critical break to his right arm. Delirious with pain, he demanded Sweet Thing leave him behind, but she refused: she was property no longer, and if she wanted to stay to help him survive, then she would. Thankfully, her sharpness put some contrition into him, and she got to work on helping drag him somewhere safer. While Sweet Thing knew a fair amount about setting injuries, his wounds would largely have to heal on their own. Infamous poachers on the run from both the law and their former gang couldn't just go marching into town for potions, after all.

They remained in the swamps for some time, trying to hide from Brand while the Wild-Eyed slowly recovered. Once able, they moved further inland, hoping to avoid both the poachers and anyone who would recognize them on sight, particularly from his vibrant, telltale eyes; they sustained themselves with odd jobs, staying out of villages and away from civilization as much as possible. He was twenty by the time he could wield a weapon well enough to hunt again, but as his arm hadn't healed quite right, he found he lacked the dexterity for his dual blades. He needed to learn a different weapon. It was better that way — if they wanted to best hide themselves, they could no longer be the Wild-Eyed and Sweet Thing. They had to be completely different people.

And so they were. The Wild-Eyed got some eyewear to cover his up signature feature, cut and dyed his hair to be more outlandish than his felyne friend's natural coat. They started claiming she was dyed too, his look adding credence to the claim. He took up the hunting horn, and by the time they ran into some members from the Hunter's Guild, they were Pom and Purl. Immediately enamored by their values and how different they were from the life they came from, the two signed up for the Guild on the spot.

Several years with the Hunter's Guild later, they were contacted to join the Research Commission. Known in his district for being one of the only dedicated hunting horn players -- and a good one, at that -- the Commission wanted him for their Fifth Fleet headed to the New World. All the way across an ocean was as far as they could get from Brand, and ever worried someone would recognize them for who they once were, the pair accepted the call to adventure. For them, the New World was also a new life.

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