Twenty Six

[Lex]

Name: Twenty Six
Nickname: 26
Age: 2
Birthplace: Cinnabar Island, Kanto
Family: None

Trainer Orientation: Complicated
Trainer Title: Experiment
Starter Pokémon: Duskull

Character Theme:
Donkey Kong 64 ~ Crystal Caves

Character Theme (Alternative, True Feelings):
Keane ~ A Bad Dream (Instrumental)

SIR1 [Male Duskull] - Why do I have to fly over every town up and down the line?
Twenty's only 'friend' is this Pokémon, who has been more of an accomplice than anything, an anti-social follower. They don't trust each other and there has been no effort to build a friendship or trust between them. However, they are absolutely adamant about remaining together, just in case someone comes after them. It is actually "SIR 1" that keeps Twenty alive, and he is fully aware of this, since, without it, he might still be in a cage or in even more detrimental circumstances. As hundreds of Pokémon were being studied and experimented upon, he was certainly under the same conditions.

Even though he isn't officially a human, Twenty fits quite well in a full human crowd considering his form of creation. He has been based on the skin tone of a young adult Caucasian male. In addition to being very thick, his hair is an abnormally consistent chocolate brown color. Since his genes have been altered, his hair cannot produce the oils that human hair does. The calcium in his fingernails and toenails, as well as the enamel on his teeth, do not deteriorate. The man stands at exactly 5'11'' tall and will do so for the rest of his life.

The genetic makeup of Twenty is very complex due to the presence of Sharpedo deoxyribonucleic acid. As would be expected from something related to a Carvanha or Sharpedo, his skin is extraordinarily rough and coarse, as well as navy blue. The scales are circular, iridescent, and very small. Furthermore, they give him an impermeable surface, which greatly enhances human skin's waterproofing capabilities. The scales cover his torso, back, hips, genitalia, shoulders and thighs, but not his head, neck, arms, or knees.

His right hand fingertips have been permanently damaged. On this hand in particular, various acids and volatile chemicals were tested on his skin. In spite of the Sharpedo genes not affecting the skin on the fingers, they were primarily used to assess his pain threshold after mutation.

As a newly created being, Twenty's clothing is very simple, including the clothing he was baptized with. Due to the fact that he will never grow taller or heavier, they have been cleaned but not replaced over the past two years. His outfit is comprised of a black t-shirt that is thoroughly frayed in most places, a white long-sleeve jacket that resembles a lesser lab coat and has black cuffs and chest interiors, some oversized blue pants, and a pair of brown kicks that cover his nondescript white socks.

As a result of his creation, Twenty was imbued with Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder (OCPD). Within the continuum of perfection and balance, he occupies an extremely significant place. There are other creations imbued with 'Satisfaction' or 'Paranoia,' but Twenty has a better version of 'Personality Syndrome,' as it was sometimes known as. By infusing a Sharpedo into Twenty, he has become obsessed with balance and perfection to a certain extent. Twenty's humanoid shape compensates for what he lacks in water with his balance, as Sharpedo are symmetrical in appearance and very fast underwater.

In terms of character, Twenty is nothing but curious, confused, and terrified all the time. As a result of not knowing who he is or what he has been through (due to never knowing 'it'), his personality is completely disorganized. Having escaped from a laboratory and seen the 'Big Bright Ball' for the first time, Twenty now hopes to meet something that will help him understand himself.

Name: Dr. Nectar - I'll die in the clouds above, and you that I defend, I do not love.
Age: 61
Gender: Male
Relationship: Creator
Trainer Orientation: Bad
Trainer Class: Scientist

The only pure human that Twenty saw every day, Dr Nectar was not a friend, nor was he an accomplice. He was merely there, every day. He showed no remorse, no emotion, no love and no enjoyment in anything he did. He spearheaded the Twenty to Twenty Nine sector, but presumably perished in the laboratory explosion.

Team Rocket's Mutant Project was their first and most significant attempt to give humans and Pokémon unusual, sometimes unimaginable powers. A number of experiments, including Twenty, were ultimately terminated and restarted after they failed. The project was spearheaded by a cluster of scientists who worked voluntarily or were hired to do the work. A male and a female Rocket Grunt's DNA was used in the project. Their relationship was one of love. So long as they weren't created in a womb, they agreed to host future creations.

All 41 creations were created in a petri dish on Cinnabar Island around a 'shell' of a conjured, artificial human. Twenty is not a human, but a pseudoclone. A pseudoclone is not actually a copy and is merely a title. Pseudoclones are made using genetic material without any similarity to the original, whereas clones duplicate someone's genetic material. This resulted in Twenty Six and the other 40 pseudoclones not looking like babies when they were born. Researchers believe that they don't age, but merely live for a while before dying from natural causes.

As for Twenty's English, it is at best Pidgin, and he can utter a few words. The words he does know were taught to him by Rocket employees he observed and listened to. Apart from that, he can only communicate with grunts and moans, but he doesn't need to, since he has no one but SIR1.

The Twenty-Sixth Pseudoclone was kept in an iron bar cell with all the other pseudoclones, where he was experimented on and alchemized. In addition to his cage, other small cages would be placed above, around, or next to it, containing different kinds of Pokémon. Eventually, this would lead to his release. A recently joined Rocket grunt made the mistake of putting an experimented Duskull in the wrong type of cage, in which the Pokémon simply floated through and escaped. It was the Duskull, SIR1, who managed to release many of the pseudoclones, but many others were captured. These two cleverly maneuvered and hid out of sight by using stealth and manoeuvring. Shortly thereafter, a red alert was received by the laboratory. An explosion in a central chamber killed hundreds of Rocket members and pseudoclones, many of which contained scientific breakthroughs. However, some scientists managed to escape but documented their information before evacuating, which Twenty later found on a computer screen.

#391 DECEASED - COMBUSTED.
#165 DECEASED - IRRADIATED.
#365 DECEASED - DROWNED.
#200 DECEASED - VAPORIZED.
#211 DECEASED - MUTATED.
#448 DECEASED - TERMINATED.
#367 DECEASED - EXTERMINATED.
#477 DECEASED - SUFFOCATED.
#354 DECEASED - INCAPACITATED.
#229 DECEASED - STEAMED.
#107 DECEASED - DECAPITATED.
#474 DECEASED - CRUSHED.
#293 DECEASED - EXPLODED.
#302 TENTATIVE - ESCAPED.
#022 DECEASED - ASPHYXIATED.
#040 DECEASED - FLATTENED.
#445 DECEASED - RAMPAGED.  
#409 DECEASED - ELONGATED.  
#388 DECEASED - SUCCUMBED.  
#186 DECEASED - UNCONTROLLED.  
#157 DECEASED - UNSPECIFIED.  
#169 DECEASED - TRAMPLED.  
#460 DECEASED - INCINERATED.  
#199 DECEASED - ASSASSINATED.  
#275 DECEASED - OBLITERATED.  
#319 NO DATA  
#323 DECEASED - DAMPENED.  
#101 DECEASED - DETONATED.  
#344 DECEASED - ERADICATED.  
#089 DECEASED - DETERIORATED.  
#441 DECEASED - DIED.  
#094 DECEASED - DISSOLVED.  
#462 DECEASED - MELTED.
#437 DECEASED - DESTROYED.
#407 DECEASED - POLLUTED.
#359 DECEASED - SCORCHED.
#009 DECEASED - ELECTROCUTED.
#330 DECEASED - DECOMPOSED.
#306 DECEASED - EUTHANISED.
#085 DECEASED - DEHYDRATED.
#099 DECEASED - IMPALED.
#130 DECEASED - UNDERESTIMATED.

Twenty clutched at the webbing of his left hand in an attempt to transfer the pain from his massacred fingertips, the permanent tingling sensation as lustful for a reaction as ever. He looked down at his digits, the reddening getting darker, the flesh restitched by an unskilled hand. He let out a saddened murmur and tore his eyesight from his damaged phalanges in place of the cataclysm surrounding him. Sat behind him laid the crumpled form of a metallic barrel, the thick, black liquid being contained inside still dripping through from the corrosive damage. The lonesome boy had already put his hand in the fluid unintentionally whilst rummaging through the remains of his abandoned chamber. To his left, a green light was whirring around in a circular motion, clearly identifying a problem with the mains control in this section, the chances of salvaging anything from it had now been annulled. Twisted metal and fibreglass littered the ground around him, almost as if positioned purposely to create a dangerous and deathly trap. Shards peppered the vinyl flooring that covered Twenty's former prison. He shuddered at the thought of being entombed inside it again.

The ghostly outline of Sir 1 floated down the corridor like a stray balloon, the flickering lights above it making it even more ominous. Investigating every nook and cranny it could, seemingly with no purpose or intent, no noise escaped its life form. A pipe burst further down the corridor, causing a pyramid-shaped metallic lid to come hurtling around the corner, Twenty got to his feet and glanced down the corridor, a sadness running deep through his gloriously lit-up eyes, his eyes damp from previous tears, confusion surging through every synapse in his brain, hormones and complicated chemicals flooding him entirely. Another barely audible mumble emerged from his hollow voice box, turning his head to the right slightly revealed an uncertainty, now confirmed.

There, bundled under a shattered window, of which a few pointed spikes remained rested in the frame, laid a corpse. Cloaked in white fabrics, now smeared with red liquid, presumably blood, and a brushed over smearing of the thick black liquid, the inanimate body was contorted. Twenty approached timidly, though he knew full well who the carcass was. It was his creator, his inventor, the sole person that created him. Upon closer view, Twenty peered over the right shoulder to see the face, and sure enough, lying on the floor was the significantly lacerated face of Dr Nectar. His positioning gave the impression that he was fleeing from the laboratory before getting caught in the blast that blew the window above him out. His lab coat tails had been slightly singed, probably by one of a number of chemically-induced fires. Twenty and the Duskull accompanying him had already found a number of bodies that had been emblazoned by searing heat, a lot of which were created by explosive electronics. One body of a female scientist had been impaled by a steel railing from the edge of a stairwell.

Hungry, tired and suffering massively from fatigue, Twenty was starving enough to search for nutrition anywhere and everywhere. With that, Twenty kicked the statue that was Dr Nectar. Rigor Mortis had evidently set in. Twenty searched his pockets as rapidly as he could, so as to not remain within the company of a creepy dead scientist. Nothing was inside them, except for a crumpled piece of paper and a vial of blue, luminous liquid. Carefully, he unravelled the sheet. Hastily written in huge capital letters read the words: "THIS ONE WORKS. IT ACTU". The remains of the message had been incinerated like the lab coat it was enclosed in. Screwing the paper back up and continuing his impressive display of vacancy and disarray, Twenty marched onward, his ambition at escaping alive was still big and strong.