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Name: Frederick Clarke
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Physical Description: Lanky and lean, Frederick is what comes to mind when you think 'street kid'. He has short, dark brown hair and brown eyes, an angular, long face with a pointed noise to match. Standing at six feet, he's just plain enough to lose in a crowd, blending in well with those around him. Were he born into a higher class, he would have probably been forced to play the piano with the hands he has: long fingers, slim bone structure, and a softness to them despite his living conditions. His clothing is fairly posh, but dirty, and he almost always wears a newsboy cap.
Personality: Frederick, or Fritz as he's known on the streets, is a wily young man. Growing up picking pockets for a living, he's become very good at some rather unsavory things: lying, stealing, cheating, fighting dirty, framing others, avoiding the law. He's also picked up some rather important skills. Fritz can talk his way out of just about any hole he's gotten himself in, and is incredibly quick on his feet. His sly nature makes him something of an outcast from normal society, but he's king in his small circle of pickpocket friends. Not afraid to burn bridges, he'll gladly use people to his own advantage.

Fritz is best at air magic.

History: Frederick was a street urchin for as long as he could remember. He was sure he had parents at some point, but what became of them, he wasn't sure. Not that it mattered, of course. He grew up just fine, thank you very much. Learning from the older kids, Fritz was quick to pick up on snatching purses and wallets, partly from natural skill, and partly from a little bit of magic he could do. Lifting items was so much easier when you could do it from a few feet away, without even bumping into someone.

Life wasn't easy, though, as much as Fritz liked to make it out to be. There were nights when he was so hungry he'd cry, bigger street kids that would beat him up and take what he'd worked for, getting thrown into jail for swiping an apple or some water. It made him resent 'those people', the ones of high class and finery and jewels. They didn't respect him, so why should he respect them?

Life continued on for Fritz, until one night when the bells he heard through his whole life - assuming they were that of some far-off church - called to him like never before.

The Summoning: Tunnels, caverns, and cauldrons, oh my. Fritz found himself blinking out of an odd stupor and he shook his head, looking around to reorient himself. He'd never seen these tunnels before, and that was impressive, considering he knew the city like the back of his hand. Better than the back of his hand, actually. A little giggle caught his attention, and he turned to face a colorful mist hanging in the air before him.

"Rainbows...gods above I must be drunk," he murmured, reaching out to touch the shimmering mist. The laughter came again, and the shimmering rainbow pulled away. Fritz let his hand fall, a confused look on his face. What the devil was going on?

If you want to touch, you'll have to give me something pretty.

The words echoed in Fritz's head with surprising strength. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, looking around for the source of the voice. "Somethin' pretty...'fraid I don't have much pretty stuff," he murmured, flexing his fingers. He did want to touch the mist, though. Something about it made him want to have it. No...not it. Whatever was inside it.

The giggle made him blink and dig through his pockets. He hadn't much with him, but what he pulled out made him frown. His watch...a nice golden pocket watch he'd swiped off some fat cat after a show had let out at the theater. The mist moved closer just a bit, as if inspecting the prize.

I like that, it said with a tone of desire. If you give me that I'll come out, and you can pet me all you want.

"Pet you? Pah...I don't want to touch ya that badly," Fritz said, tucking the watch back in his pocket. The feel in the room changed, tension settling over the human like a blanket. It was obvious whatever was in that mist wanted what he had, but he wasn't about to give it up. He was insanely curious, though, and he knew whatever was on the other side of the mist was incredibly rare.

"But," he said after a moment, holding up a long finger. "I do need a partner. Someone who will never turn their back on me. Someone who I can trust. I don't have anyone like that."

Nor do I, the voice hummed in his head. There was some contemplation before the tension drained away. Okay! I'll come out, and we can be partners, and you can show me how to get my own pretty gold thing.

That made Fritz laugh. "Sure...and it's a watch, ya dingus," he said with a grin. The grin faded, however, at the sense of offense that filled his mind. My name is Fijora, not ya dingus

Somehow he knew not to crack a joke, and apologized, giving his own name in the process. He crouched down and leaned forward after that as a tiny creature emerged from the mist. He hoverd over the tiny little thing, watching as the pup looked up at him with green eyes and gave a happy yip, black tail waving like a banner.

"Oh..." Fritz realized a bit too late what he'd just gotten himself into. This was going to be a very interesting partnership.