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Old January 22nd, 2013 (04:06 PM). Edited January 25th, 2013 by Karma.
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Karma Karma is offline
♚ Here's looking at you, kid.
 
Join Date: Dec 2012
Location: United States
Gender: Female
Nature: Relaxed
Posts: 119
I know I had to drop out of your other RP, and I feel terrible for it because just when I got busy I became free again... x_x

But, I was wondering if you would allow me to reserve a spot for this one instead? I will do my absolute best to make it up to you. If so, then I would love to reserve Charmeleon and BW Male appearance? Thank you for your consideration!

echo ; A KANTO JOURNEY
the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step

[ Name ]
Milo Langley
[ Age ]
Fifteen, 15
[ Trainer ]
Black and White, Male
[ Starter ]
Alaster
Charmeleon, Male
Moveset - Scratch, Ember, Growl, Smokescreen, Dragon Rush
[ Personality ]
Milo is the willing recipient of a continuously active brain, filled with random tidbits of knowledge one may often find trivial. Whether it is the distinguishing cries of a Weedle or a town's ancient lore, he is the young man who know knows anything about everything. More or less. He is an intelligent lad who constantly seeks out new information and tries to put it to good use in helping others or himself in times of need. He is captivated by puzzles and problems. However, with this active brain comes his inability to concentrate on on task or conversation. He could be talking about Pokémon one minute and the food in his pocket the next. Keeping his attention on any one thing for a long period of time is quite the ordeal.

In accordance with that, Milo is also creative. He tends to waste his time making tools out of small objects, drawing his fantasies, and imagining grand adventures. He would be considered a child at heart by most, but in a naïve way. The lad has a knack for ignoring the bad and ugly things in life. When something goes wrong he will often deny the situation and carry on as if nothing was different. Nonetheless, he is compassionate. If there is a person in need of a hand or a shoulder to lean on he won't hesitate to offer his own. He enjoys make people smile.

One of his biggest fears is being alone. He was raised around many people in a big town. If there was one thing we would want most on this journey, it would be a friend along the way.

Milo lived in a bustling household with five siblings where he learned to keep his stuff to himself.
He doesn't like to share any physical object that he personally owns as things were stolen or misplaced quite a few times growing up. One thing he is particularly possessive about is his hat. He is incredible fond of it. Don't touch the hat. Ever.
[ Roleplay Sample ]

Spoiler:

The morning began like any other in the Langley house, with a loud bang resounding off the kitchen floor as a mass of tangled bodies rolled around with arms flailing to meet flesh. From his peaceful slumber in a closet sized room Milo jolted awake with a gasp, brown eyes wide as his muddled brain tried to make sense of disruption. Soon after an exasperated holler came through the crack under his door, “You boys stop your wrestling this instant and eat your breakfast!” Milo blinked twice before putting two and two together, and with a groan he plopped back down on his bed. Of all the mornings for the young residents of the house to disrupt the peace, he wished at least this one could’ve been spared.

He laid there staring up at the yellow ceiling as he listened to the thundering of feet race past his bedroom. The drag of staying up late last night drawing what he imagined his future Pokémon team to be began settling in, and the last thing he wanted to do was to get up. Groggily he turned to face the Rattata alarm clock. Its bright purple lights flashed with the numbers 8:15 a.m. He rubbed a hand down his face. They couldn’t let him have one more hour? Milo grumbled as he pulled a lone pillow over his head and curled into himself.

Suddenly, like a siren going berserk in his head, everything clicked together. “I’m late!” he realized with horror, and with that he threw himself from the bed and dove at the dresser. Frantically he dug through the assortment of unfolded laundry, throwing on whatever smelled clean. “Stupid!” he scolded himself as he hopped around the cluttered room while putting on mismatched socks. He was supposed to meet Professor Pine at the Pokémon Center precisely fifteen minutes ago. His future as a trainer—if he still had one—depended on it.

Milo stuffed a few essentials (snacks, first aid, drawing supplies) into a black messenger bag. He stopped for a moment to consider his self in a nearby mirror. His brown mane of hair was sticking up from every angle; the perfect depiction of behead if there ever was one. Oh well. No time to worry about good looks. There are more important matters to attend to. The young boy rattled off a checklist. “Clothes? Check. Food? Check. Bag? Check.” There was something missing.

“Ah! My hat.”

Milo stumbled over stray pictures and objects that littered the floor until he reached his beloved white and red hat, perched atop a tall bookshelf for safekeeping, and slapped it firmly upon his head.

In a flash he was out the door and into the crowded kitchen. He plowed through two of his younger brothers who were standing there arguing. “Hey, what’s the deal?” Percy, who was peeling himself off the ground, asked as Milo skidded to a short stop by the counter. He ignored the question and continued to hastily scarf down two pieces of toast and a glass of milk. He only slowed down enough to inform his mother when jumping into his shoes.

“I’m going to meet Professor Pine. This is it, Mom, I am finally having a journey of my own,” he said with a toothy grin.

His mother was by the stove cooking eggs for the other children as she half turned towards him, “That’s great sweetie. Don’t forget to take out the trash.” Her answer came out distracted and automatic, and his words were lost in the bustling of breakfast. Milo felt a twinge of disappointment tug at his stomach. He stopped in the craziness of rushing around getting ready and stared at the back of her head.

“I probably won’t be seeing you guys for a while, but I promise to write,” he prompted. Again, only a simple hum was given in reply. He watched as she heaved a sigh when Alaster, the youngest child, spilled his bowl of cereal. “Well, I am off. Goodbye…” Milo said as he stepped towards the door, the hurt clear in his eyes. He waved to Percy, the only one seeming to notice him, and smiled. “Take care of the house while I am gone.”

Percy returned the gesture. “Will do, brother. Go catch some fierce Pokémon and bring back some badges. Though I doubt you will be able to even beat your first Gym Leader,” he said jokingly. Milo shook his head with a laugh and exited out the front door.

It was a beautiful day in Viridian City. The sun was shining, only a few white clouds hung in the blue sky, and the happy atmosphere of the town brought the excitement back instantly. He dug his feet into the dirt pathway and, with a few seconds of preparation, started forward at a run, headed for the Pokémon Center in the middle of town. It didn’t take long to reach his destination (stopping only to say goodbye to a few neighbors he would miss) and soon he found himself face to face with the glass sliding doors.

The building itself wasn’t all that grand, but what was held inside made his heart flutter in anticipation. Milo gathered himself together as he brushed the dust from his pants and straightened his hat. He could only hope his tardiness was somewhat overlooked. With a certain sense of pride he walked into the building. Inside, the halls were bright and welcoming. People were sitting on red benches or talking languidly up at the front desk. There were a few who were fussing over their Pokémon and being helped by the nurses.

Milo’s shoes clicked on the tiled floors as he looked around for any indicator as where to go next. He had seen the Professor before, and knew enough of her appearance to search for her, but everywhere he looked he was turning up empty. Milo frowned. Had his appointment been cancelled because he was late? Did he ruin his chances? What if they left already, thinking he wasn’t going to show up? Worry began to settle in when there was tap on his shoulder. Whirling around Milo stared into the eyes of Professor Pine, who wore a bright smile and held with her a clipboard in her arms. Long, dark hair trailed down her back, contrasting against the white lab coat.

“You must be Milo Langley,” she said, adjusting the glasses balanced on her nose.

He nodded violently, “Yes Ma’am. Sorry for being late I—”

“Don’t worry,” she lulled, “it gave me some time to get a few errands done.”

He couldn’t find any words to say as he watched her pull out the round Pokéball. “Is this... mine?” he asked. She nodded, and with the reassurance he reached out and took it from her hand. The cold surface felt like silk on his skin. He had never touched a Pokéball before, much less with an actual Pokémon inside. He brought it close to his body to examine the object. One click of a button and his ultimate dream would finally come true.

Professor Pine watched amusedly the boy as he fiddled with the Pokéball. “There’s a Charmeleon inside of there.”

At those words, Milo instantly went into information mode. “Evolution of Charmander, a Fire-Type Pokémon. They mostly live in harsh environments like volcanic areas and craggy mountains. A distinguishing feature is their tail which is lit with flames—” He stopped. A blush slowly found its way to his cheeks as he realized what he had just done. He was telling the Professor, who most likely knew more about Pokémon than he did, about the very Pokémon she had assigned to him. Of course she knew all about Charmeleons! He had let his know-it-all brain get the best of him. Embarrassed, he looked up from the Pokéball to see her arched eyebrows.

“I mean… thank you.”

“You seem to know quite a bit about your new partner. It would be best, though, to let him show you who he is himself.” She gestured toward the Pokéball.

Milo’s blush grew redder, but nonetheless he took a deep breath and pushed the button. A flash of light emitted from the ball, and in a split second a living, breathing Pokémon stood before him. It was nothing like his drawings or books he read. It was much cooler. The Charmeleon had beautiful orange skin, cream claws, piercing blue eyes, and sharp teeth that poked out from its mouth. Milo could only stand there with his mouth agape as his eyes followed the flaming tail swishing back and forth in a slow rhythm.

The Professor cleared her throat, and Milo was brought back into reality. “Hey there, buddy,” he cooed as he kneeled down to Charmeleon’s level. Hesitantly he reached out a hand in attempt to touch the fire Pokémon, but drew away quickly as Charmeleon lunged forward with a nip. “Augh!” Milo cried, stumbling backwards onto his backside.

“Careful, he’s a biter,” Professor Pine said with a chuckle.

“You don’t say…” Milo retorted, holding on to his thankfully-in-one-piece-hand.

Charmeleon stood there, a particularly smug look on his face, as he regarded the young inexperienced trainer. The Pokémon cocked its head as it daring him to try that again. Milo could swear that if it could talk, it would be wondering why in the world the Professor had assigned this wimp of a boy to be his trainer. Well, Milo was just going to have to show him his worth. The boy got back onto his feet and turned to Professor Pine.

“He doesn’t seem the like me very much.”

“Oh come now, I am sure he is excited to be your partner. He just has to warm up to you a little. Now, before I leave I need to give you a few more things.” She reached into her coat pockets and took out a Pokédex and a license with his picture plastered on it.

He took the objects and deposited them into his bag. “Thank you for this opportunity.”

“No,” she smiled, “thank you for helping me with my research. I must be off now and you must be getting on your way. Good luck, Milo.” With that she left his side.

Milo turned to the Charmeleon, who was staring after the Professor with an uncertain look. The way his eyes called for her, the defensive stance he took, and the way he kept shooting weary glances at the trainer reminded Milo of someone.

“Alaster,” he stated simply.

The Charmeleon look up at him sharply. “I guess I need to call you something, so I will name you Alaster. Do you like it?”

Charmeleon considered his words for a moment before turning back to him. If the Pokémon were human, it would’ve shrugged. Milo gave a whoop of excitement and gathered Alaster in his arms (Alaster giving off a surprised squeak) and spun around. This was going to be great. He just knew it. Finally he was out of that cramped house and boring life. He was going to be a trainer, and a good one at that.


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