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Description
Name: Jean Melissa Imogen

Age: 23

Gender: Female

Pokemon: Smeargle

Type: Grass

Familiar: Monica

Moveset:

Spore: The user scatters bursts of spores that induce sleep.

Vine Whip: The target is struck with slender, whiplike vines to inflict damage.

Poison Jab: The target is stabbed with a tentacle or arm steeped in poison. It may also poison the target.

Metronome: The user waggles a finger and stimulates its brain into randomly using nearly any move.

Ability: Effect Spore

History: Jean started out as a forest-dwelling smeargle pup, scrawny and the runt of the family. Her parents were rather cold, always giving her the least amount of care compared to her brothers and sisters, who were able to make their own paint, she couldn't get the hang of it due to her early clumsiness. The "forest" that she lived in was actually a golf course just outside of a large, popular city, though she wasn't aware of the fact until the day that she was abandoned by her parents, dumped right outside the trees at the edge of a street. Suddenly, the world she knew, the green grass, blossoms, trees, and the occasional pond, turned to concrete and iron sculptures, skyscrapers and sewage drains, and she got a chance to see "the fleshy things" up close. Now, Jean had seen them before at a distance, swinging cold poles with wedges at the end, but not like this, wearing strange clothes and strutting like colorful, tacky birds.
And yet Jean had the strangest desire to paint.
At first, her art was just splatters on a street edge, green smears on the side of a chromatic building. Then vaguely people-shaped blobs appears on various brick walls, then other pokemon that she had seen in the city appeared on cardboard boxes. This continued for about five or six years, until Jean encountered a pristine white mansion on the edge of acres and acres of grassland and forests. The smeargle was in paradise. She splattered away at the house, played in the fields, swam and drank in the rivers and streams. However, soon after her entrance, the young mistress of the house caught her in the act of adding a luxio to the front of her mansion. And she was delighted.
Jean was given a home, a name, and a steady supply of food for adding splatters to the young lady's dull white house. She played in the fields, frolicked in the meadows, and stayed in the lap of luxury for who knows how long. Most importantly, she became a companion and friend to the young lady, who seemed to be alone, even receiving a gift of a preserved red blossom that didn't wilt or die. Nobody seemed to care about her person though, as no letters ever came, no cards or gifts that had ever touched human hands. The smeargle was the girl's only friend, in a world of bliss and paint.
And then chaos came in the form of a letter printed in red ink with a logo that her person recognized at the top.
The girl opened the letter, and read quickly, leafing through the pages over and over to confirm the news.

Dear young miss/sir,
We regret to inform you that Edward William Jacobs, father of Mia Jacobs and former CEO of Deaconcorp, has passed away from complications based off of his recent brain surgery.

Nicholas Denver

Of course, her father had died. However, the smeargle knew nothing of death, or even sadness. She nudged her person, smearing paint on Mia's clean white dress.
"Get out!"
Jean was tossed out of the house before she even knew it. Confused and hurt, the smeargle lingered on the edges of the mansion in hopes of an explanation for the swift eviction.
All the windows, however, were shuttered. Doors locked and pet doors barricaded. Jean gave up hope and lingered in the fields, mournful.

Soon after, a sleek car approached the road, men with black suits stepping out holding folders with papers marked with red ink. The pokemon watched with slight, morbid curiosity as they walked into the house, ignoring the door. Screams came out of the house, then silence. The men barged out, furious. Jean tried to stop them from doing further harm by hitting them with paint, but it had no effect other than slight annoyance. She was thrown aside and stepped on, feeling at least one vital organ rupture. Her curiosity turned to regret, which shifted to pain. Then one thought, buzzing in her skin and her tail and her brain. One pounding thought.
I want to paint.
----------
A person woke up on a mildly rainy day, feeling strange things against her skin. She sat up, shielding her eyes with a... Hand? Somehow, that didn't seem right. But yet, the blossom on her head seemed right. The thought of painting came to her and burrowed inside her mind with the feeling of remorse that followed. She began to slowly rise, accidentally knocking aside a creature on her lap that was... Her? It seemed familiar, but it had flowery, plant-like qualities to it. Jean got a feeling like looking into a distorted mirror at a carnival. She rose, and used a nearby stick and color created by the powders and the rain to mark the grass, and began to walk.
It felt right.

Personality:
"You'll be fine."
Jean is a graceful, yet slightly spunky person who has a knack for spotting detail when she sees it. She's a careful listener who has a knack for detail and curiosity, and loves trying to cheer people up. However, she never thinks before she speaks and sometimes offends others with words that didn't seem that bad at the moment. She gets guilty easily, and gets into a depressed slump whenever she realizes that she did something wrong. She battles with more strategy then brute force. She seems to have little to no respect for the properties of others, and paints on things that she deems "bland" or "stupid".

Likes:
ART
Battling
People
Children (especially the shy ones.)

Dislikes:
Hateful/rude people
People in suits
Critics who aren't very good at what they critique
Those who are overly cold and passive.

Extras:
The anthers on her back are coated with a sticky substance that holds powder easily. Jean usually applies dry, chalk-like powder that causes drowsiness when dry and poison when wet to the sticky ends, often right before a battle or right before a painting. The powder is harvested from the flower on her head.
Her familiar's ears can extend like extra appendages when needed.
She's overly attached to her flower, but doesn't know why.
If it's a really rainy/dark day, she gets moody due to the lack of sunlight.
Her art is mainly first impressions of people she meets. They're sort of like caricatures and abstract art combined.

Description
Name: Jean Melissa Imogen

Age: 23

Gender: Female

Pokemon: Smeargle

Type: Grass

Familiar: Monica

Moveset:

Spore: The user scatters bursts of spores that induce sleep.

Vine Whip: The target is struck with slender, whiplike vines to inflict damage.

Poison Jab: The target is stabbed with a tentacle or arm steeped in poison. It may also poison the target.

Metronome: The user waggles a finger and stimulates its brain into randomly using nearly any move.

Ability: Effect Spore

History: Jean started out as a forest-dwelling smeargle pup, scrawny and the runt of the family. Her parents were rather cold, always giving her the least amount of care compared to her brothers and sisters, who were able to make their own paint, she couldn't get the hang of it due to her early clumsiness. The "forest" that she lived in was actually a golf course just outside of a large, popular city, though she wasn't aware of the fact until the day that she was abandoned by her parents, dumped right outside the trees at the edge of a street. Suddenly, the world she knew, the green grass, blossoms, trees, and the occasional pond, turned to concrete and iron sculptures, skyscrapers and sewage drains, and she got a chance to see "the fleshy things" up close. Now, Jean had seen them before at a distance, swinging cold poles with wedges at the end, but not like this, wearing strange clothes and strutting like colorful, tacky birds.
And yet Jean had the strangest desire to paint.
At first, her art was just splatters on a street edge, green smears on the side of a chromatic building. Then vaguely people-shaped blobs appears on various brick walls, then other pokemon that she had seen in the city appeared on cardboard boxes. This continued for about five or six years, until Jean encountered a pristine white mansion on the edge of acres and acres of grassland and forests. The smeargle was in paradise. She splattered away at the house, played in the fields, swam and drank in the rivers and streams. However, soon after her entrance, the young mistress of the house caught her in the act of adding a luxio to the front of her mansion. And she was delighted.
Jean was given a home, a name, and a steady supply of food for adding splatters to the young lady's dull white house. She played in the fields, frolicked in the meadows, and stayed in the lap of luxury for who knows how long. Most importantly, she became a companion and friend to the young lady, who seemed to be alone, even receiving a gift of a preserved red blossom that didn't wilt or die. Nobody seemed to care about her person though, as no letters ever came, no cards or gifts that had ever touched human hands. The smeargle was the girl's only friend, in a world of bliss and paint.
And then chaos came in the form of a letter printed in red ink with a logo that her person recognized at the top.
The girl opened the letter, and read quickly, leafing through the pages over and over to confirm the news.

Dear young miss/sir,
We regret to inform you that Edward William Jacobs, father of Mia Jacobs and former CEO of Deaconcorp, has passed away from complications based off of his recent brain surgery.

Nicholas Denver

Of course, her father had died. However, the smeargle knew nothing of death, or even sadness. She nudged her person, smearing paint on Mia's clean white dress.
"Get out!"
Jean was tossed out of the house before she even knew it. Confused and hurt, the smeargle lingered on the edges of the mansion in hopes of an explanation for the swift eviction.
All the windows, however, were shuttered. Doors locked and pet doors barricaded. Jean gave up hope and lingered in the fields, mournful.

Soon after, a sleek car approached the road, men with black suits stepping out holding folders with papers marked with red ink. The pokemon watched with slight, morbid curiosity as they walked into the house, ignoring the door. Screams came out of the house, then silence. The men barged out, furious. Jean tried to stop them from doing further harm by hitting them with paint, but it had no effect other than slight annoyance. She was thrown aside and stepped on, feeling at least one vital organ rupture. Her curiosity turned to regret, which shifted to pain. Then one thought, buzzing in her skin and her tail and her brain. One pounding thought.
I want to paint.
----------
A person woke up on a mildly rainy day, feeling strange things against her skin. She sat up, shielding her eyes with a... Hand? Somehow, that didn't seem right. But yet, the blossom on her head seemed right. The thought of painting came to her and burrowed inside her mind with the feeling of remorse that followed. She began to slowly rise, accidentally knocking aside a creature on her lap that was... Her? It seemed familiar, but it had flowery, plant-like qualities to it. Jean got a feeling like looking into a distorted mirror at a carnival. She rose, and used a nearby stick and color created by the powders and the rain to mark the grass, and began to walk.
It felt right.

Personality:
"You'll be fine."
Jean is a graceful, yet slightly spunky person who has a knack for spotting detail when she sees it. She's a careful listener who has a knack for detail and curiosity, and loves trying to cheer people up. However, she never thinks before she speaks and sometimes offends others with words that didn't seem that bad at the moment. She gets guilty easily, and gets into a depressed slump whenever she realizes that she did something wrong. She battles with more strategy then brute force. She seems to have little to no respect for the properties of others, and paints on things that she deems "bland" or "stupid".

Likes:
ART
Battling
People
Children (especially the shy ones.)

Dislikes:
Hateful/rude people
People in suits
Critics who aren't very good at what they critique
Those who are overly cold and passive.

Extras:
The anthers on her back are coated with a sticky substance that holds powder easily. Jean usually applies dry, chalk-like powder that causes drowsiness when dry and poison when wet to the sticky ends, often right before a battle or right before a painting. The powder is harvested from the flower on her head.
Her familiar's ears can extend like extra appendages when needed.
She's overly attached to her flower, but doesn't know why.
If it's a really rainy/dark day, she gets moody due to the lack of sunlight.
Her art is mainly first impressions of people she meets. They're sort of like caricatures and abstract art combined.