Name: Joslyn Lucas Korvair. Due to the shame of his true forename, he has claimed that no one refers to him as anything other than "Lukas" (which, there are few that know of his birth name, nonetheless).
Age: 25.
Gender: Male.
Occupation: Veteran. A failed Pokémon Master; he lost on fluke to the third Elite Master.
Personality: Luke is... quick and precise, atleast when it pertains to his method of training and battling. When in that 'zone' he tends to ignore those around him, choosing to focus only on his opposition; a trait which has earned him recognition as an enigma. Truth be told, he isn't. He remains silent often, but only because those around him seemingly are afraid to speak to him. He appears aloof, callous, and albeit... cruel. He isn't (in fact, he confides in his Sandslash), he only finds himself easily annoyed by others. If they were more understanding to his plight when it comes to them, or their Pokémon, they may learn to understand what he is, precisely. Despite the complexities of his personality, he is what he is. And on the surface, he's a cliché anti-hero.
Description: Lukas is, as some would say, 'aesthetically gifted'. When someone gets a first look at him, they tend to not shy away. Couple that with his personality, and there's the stereotypical bishounen. With sand-blasted, dirty blond hair and piercing cerulean eyes, he is a triple threat. Atleast, when he flashes a smile (which is... well... never). This young man has a lithe, slightly muscular build that appears to be much more than it is clothed by a shirt. Even moreso, he tends to appear much taller than he is, despite his only 5'10" height and thin, 136 pound frame.
History: Joslyn, born in Goldenrod, was always a troublemaker. His mother never paid real attention, taking it to heart as a child spiting the world, as his father was always gone. This was due to his chosen profession of working at the Cerulean City Gym as a grunt that testedd the trainers' skills. It wasn't enough that he was never around, however; he never even called or wrote. Even when it was the boy's birthday. It seemed the closest that the young man came to ever receiving a present was when he was twelve. He received his first Pokémon, enclosed in a yellow and black Poké Ball. Upon releasing it, despite his not knowing this, he released his life companion. At the time, unevolved, a level seven Sandshrew.
The Sandshrew followed him around often, tagging by his side, despite Josyln, now going by Luke, telling it to leave him alone. It would have been different under other circumstances, but this Sandshrew only reminded him of one thing: the father that he never knew. In this time, with the consideration that he grew up as he did, and in the city that he did, Luke had taken up a minor occupation with Team Rocket. He often conned the compulsive gambers which inhabited the Goldenrod casino ran by Rocket and Giovanni, and at times, he would pocket change of his own. Of course... Rocket didn't care for this, and soon enough, they attempted to get rid of the young man as penance for his accumulated thievery. Sandshrew... despite its size... would have none of that. It fought for the boy, and nearly died doing so.
Luke realized what he had been sent finally; his father had sent him someone that would protect him because he couldn't. Despite how much he still hated his father, he smiled in the face of danger with this Pokémon at his side. For weeks he nursed it back to health, having not known the luxuries of a Pokémon Center (with the consideration of his limited knowledge; due to a disinterest, because of his father). For years afterward, he began to look into the world of Pocket Monsters, and as such, trained to one day match and surpass his father. At first, it started in the grass patches immediately outside of Goldenrod, and soon enough, became daily battles around the city itself. He lost at first, often, but soon began to double a winner's edge. Still, he couldn't discover
why his Sandshrew wouldn't evolve. It simply wasn't ready.
At the age of eighteen, he finally left home. With a camp of four Pokémon, that of which included Sandshrew (who lived outside of its Poké Ball), he traveled the roads and battled as the opponents came, heading toward Cerulean City. Along the way, he countered namesakes both famous and infamous, such as Professor Ivy and Oak, such as Butch and Cassidy... and even Jesse and James. Butch and Cassidy, of course, put up a fight at first. But, Sandshrew still battled them onward despite its short form. It was in that fight, as they were about to lose, that Sandshrew pulled a 'Deus ex machina' and evolved... becoming his faithful Sandslash.
(I apologize if it's long, and I wish to disperse the rest of the information in roleplay later on... if I'm accepted, atleast).
Starter Pokemon:
Name: Sandslash.
Nickname: --
Personality: Brave.
Level: 43.
Capture: Gift from his father.
Poké Ball: --
Name: Gengar.
Nickname: --
Personality: Bold.
Level: 32.
Capture: Traded, when a Haunter, for a Rhyhorn.
Poké Ball:
Name: Growlithe.
Nickname: --
Personality: Brash.
Level: 29.
Capture: Obtained outside of Blackthorne.
Poké Ball:
Name: Umbreon.
Nickname: --
Personality: Timid.
Level: 27.
Capture: As an Eevee, from a young child named Lily.
Poké Ball:
Name: Dragonair.
Nickname: --
Personality: Timid.
Level: 23.
Capture: Outside of Blackthorne, as well.
Poké Ball:
Roleplay Sample:
He could only stare at the man that stood infront of him, little regard held in terms of the person's idenity. "Out of my way." It wasn't a request, it was a warning. A stern, full-fledged warning as he stared in the face of the cloaked individual before him, a black mask framing hazel orbs. Lukas had defeated three of four Elite Trainers, and this man would not keep him from his fourth; his destiny. When he moved to shove the man out of the way, however, the being dispersed in a cloud of black. That equal to fine powder crumbling and floating freely in the air. Lukas was astounded. But, their meeting hadn't concluded... Not so it seemed. The clad male reformed behind the trainer, snagging two of four Poké Balls from his belt, and proceeded to throw them from the tier at their sides.
*******
"No--!" Cerulean hues bursted open, immediately feeling a stinging sensation as sweat fell into the already moist hues. A black ring had already been around each eye from the lack of sleep, and it seemed that they wouldn't leave yet. "It was only a dr--a nightmare." But still, his hands secured to his waist and counted all of four companions, and then looked at his side. When he looked beside himself, he saw his faithful Sandslash. Atleast that was a small bit of comfort, enough to make him smile lightly while the Pokémon rocked to and fro in its slumber.
That was the oddest one yet. His head lulled forward, both hands supporting his forehead while he let out four soft breaths. He lifted his head once more, and shook it free of the cobwebs, before he laid down; it would be a long day tomorrow, battling Sabrin
a.
(I hope that this is acceptable; if not, that's fine. Thank you.)