The profile is complete (I think). His name links to his theme.
Name: Shayne Nicandro Reese
Age: 14
Gender: Male
Appearance: Standing at 5'4" and and weighing 123lbs, Shayne does not exactly have an eye-catching build. Beneath his mess of black hair, pale blue eyes stare out at the world--bright enough to easily be visible even under the shadow of the fedora he is often seen wearing. On his left ear is fastened a silver earring bearing a cross and looping chain. Signs of snakebite piercings remain near his lips, though they may only be seen from close proximity. When in his shy persona, Shayne is sometimes compelled to place the silver rings back around his lips. While his skin tone is fairly close to the median, its contrast with his dark hair causes it to seem lighter.
During the times when he is feeling bolder, Shayne's wardrobe lingers somewhere between formal and casual. He owns a number of short-sleeved collared shirts and ties, the latter of which may either be fastened neatly about his neck or knotted loosely about his unbuttoned collar when it is worn. While he does have a few long-sleeved shirts, he tends to fold the sleeves up anyway, even in cool weather. Black slacks belted at the waist are his preference to wear on his bottom half, though he has been known to wear jeans occasionally as well--more frequently when his shy persona is active. Wide, buckled straps are fastened about his wrists. Shayne keeps a small, silver pin attached to his shirt's collar.
The clearest sign of Shayne's personality switch is, aside from the fact that he will probably be avoiding you, the replacement of his hat and semi-formal shirt with a t-shirt of a quiet shade and a casual jacket with its hood up. Some have theorized that he believes the hood hides his blushing. His outfit is completed by either a pair of tennis shoes or dark boots.
Personality: Typically Shayne is an easygoing, casually (and indiscriminately) flirtatious person, even if a little competitive sometimes. He seems to see the beauty in everything and enjoy being a part of the world around him. Insults are usually laughed off or answered in banter, and tasks are approached with an attitude somewhere between cavalier and eager. Despite his nonchalant manner, an attentive observer might note Shayne's readiness to try to charm everyone he meets. In truth, Shayne has several jarringly contrasting sides to him that border on multiple personalities. Weighed by a constant sense of inadequacy, his friendly persona developed from his efforts gain approval and in an attempt to become the person his parents wanted him to be.
Also frustrated by the nearly constant pressures placed on him by his father and his apparently as constant failures, a part of Shayne has simply resigned itself to feeling as though he is never good enough. This side of him is tinged by bitterness and resentment but is mostly shy and socially awkward. Some have noted that Shayne's friendly side possesses confidence and insight beyond his years, while those who have seen his shy self rarely fail to note that its traits are societally inappropriate for someone as old as he is.
In the past, Shayne has interacted with others fairly well. Able to control his personality switches to a degree, he quickly found that using his friendly side when around more others was favorable. His shy self wanted to be alone anyway. Though he had a decent number of friends in his home town and dated a few girls, he never allowed anyone to grow particularly close to him. The distance he maintained even frustrated some people into ending their relationships with him. Despite his desire for attention, fear of abandonment and disapproval prevented him from fully trusting anyone. Thus, though he had enough friends, few to none were likely to consider him their "best friend."
History: From the moment he was born, Shayne's parents had high hopes for him. His father was a top coordinator, placing in the finals of the Grand Festival his last year competing. His mother was a skilled Pokemon trainer, defeating all the gyms in her region in under six months. Both his parents hoped that one day their son would carry on their legacy and taught him much about Pokemon handling from an early age. Eventually Shayne's mother and father began to disagree about whether the boy should devote more effort to being a trainer or a coordinator, his father citing his own eventual lack of success as more reason for Shayne to do what he never did. As time passed, these arguments grew increasingly sharp. Aside from them, however, Shayne's parents appeared rather amicable toward one another.
Day and night, Shayne's life was filled with Pokemon and expectations regarding his prowess with them. From the time he could throw a Pokeball (or at least drop it at an appropriate time), Shayne began to learn about battle. His first word was "Marill," his second "win," and his third "momma." Often Shayne was enrolled in nearby amateur tournaments, after which he was offered advice on how to improve. To their credit, Shayne's parents were generous with the amount of attention they gave him. Less flatteringly, their attempts to encourage him were often overwhelmed by their desire for perfection. Shayne's hometown--a moderately small place where almost everyone knew almost everyone--was familiar with his parents' history and began to hope for the son's success as well.
When Shayne was eleven, his parents had a particularly bitter fight about the direction of his future. Taking Shayne's hand, his father stormed out of the house and brought the boy to sign up for his coordinator's license. Upon their arrival home, the pair found the mother had calmed considerably. Again the world had been righted. Over the next few days, Shayne's parents discussed with more rationality whether he should participate in the upcoming contest or not. Eventually they selected a decision method they had not used before: they asked him. Glancing nervously between his parents and remembering the fervency with which he had been taught, Shayne told them he wanted to enter the contest.
The day of the contest, Shayne's father brought him to the stadium early, the boy's mother saying she would meet them there when the contest began. She never appeared. This time when father and son returned home, they found the house empty. A note was left on the kitchen counter, stating simply, "I will not return. Please do not look for me. Goodbye." While he is not certain why his mother disappeared, to this day Shayne blames himself for her leaving.
If someone were to objectively rate Shayne's raw talent, he would likely only place in the top twenty percentile. Heritage and hard work, however, gained him enough attention to provide entry to the Pokecademy.
Preferred Dorm: Mysterious (Starter: Solosis)
Choice 2: Normal (Starly)
Choice 3: Natural (Nidoran♂)
RP Sample:
"You can stop digging through my bag, Dad. I have plenty of healing items. Super Potions, Full Heals--even Hyper Potions." Shayne set an armful of clothes down on his bed beside his open suitcase and made his way over to his father who was looking through the teenager's backpack while trying to appear unconcerned.
The older man cleared his throat and straightened. "Of course. I knew you would; you're a responsible young man." He paused. "Have you considered the matter of Full Restores? Last time you didn't have one it cost you the battle."
"Dad, I was seven," Shayne laughed. "And yes, I have one. Before you start in, you should know that's all the Pokemart had left." Turning, the student-to-be began setting shirts in his luggage. He heard his father sigh behind him but continued his work.
"This is why I tell you to plan ahead, but I guess there's not much we can do about it now. That reminds me, though: I have something for you." The sound of his footsteps retreated from the room into the hallway.
Looking down at the contents of his suitcase, Shayne reviewed a mental checklist.
Clothes are here, Saoirse's Pokeball is on my belt, school letter is in my backpack with food and battle items, hat is in the front hall . . . right, toothbrush. Spinning his Pokemon's ball absentmindedly, Shayne walked out the door to the bathroom where he dug a new toothbrush out of one of the drawers. After a moment of thought, he grabbed a tube of toothpaste and a case of floss as well. Seeing his father's shadow extending out the doorway as he approached his room, Shayne reattached the Pokeball to his belt as he said, "Hey, mind if I bring the floss with me? I'd pick up some from the store, but--" He stopped short. "Dad?"
Shayne's father looked at him quietly, a flute of red glass resting in his hands. "I think you should have this, son."
Shifting his gaze to one side, the boy's voice deadened as he replied, "It's not yours to give, and it's not my right to accept. That flute belonged--belongs to Mom."
"When she left, your mother brought many things with her. Her Pokemon, most of her old traveling gear, and her clothes were gone. But this was still here, in the same place it always was. At first I thought she was trying to tell me something, but now I think she hoped you would have it some day. Anyway, I don't need . . . I don't need it here."
In his father's brief pause, Shayne caught the unspoken words "or want it." He was not sure he wanted it either. What he did know was that he was not of a mind to argue at the moment. With his gaze still averted, he took the flute and walked past his father. "Thanks."
With a few deft movements, Shayne wrapped the flute in an undershirt and packed it beside his dental supplies. In the awkward silence of his room, the sound of him zipping up his suitcase sounded almost obnoxiously loud. Shayne looked back at his father. "I'm going to sleep now. Long day tomorrow."
"That's a good idea," his father stated wearily, nodding his head slightly. He seemed to have aged ten years in the past few minutes. "This is a great opportunity for you. Use it to become a talented coordinator and trainer."
"Of course."
"Goodnight, son." Placing one hand on the doorway for support, the man made his way out of the room.
"Goodnight."
