erm yeah i guess that's cool, i slightly used my intro post as a bit of a prologue if you will to Josh's story.
Essentially what I'm thinking is that he runs home, gets changed and then tries to make it outta the city...but he gets ambushed by a load of walkers so he legs it into the nearest building...which happens to be the hotel? I dunno :P
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Queso, Jamin's Floatzel, was nothing short of pissed that she had to get out of the water. While the ferry had been slowing down Jamin had let her out to have a bit of a swim, but now they were on dry ground she had to return to her PokeBall. He ran his hand through his dreads and looked around. His first thoughts were somewhere between WHERE IS ALL THE GRASS AND FARMS WHAAAAAH and WOW FIREBALL IS GONNA LOVE THIS PLACE IT IS SO VERY HOT HERE. All around him there were other students around his age, and they all had their Pokemons flying or walking or running around them, looking delighted. Jamin wished he could take his out too but, looking at the other Pokemons he felt incredibly inferior. The fact that Fireball hadn't yet evolved had been pressing on his mind for a while now and he could clearly see a few Stage 2 evos dotted around. Would the others laugh at him? He'd found Queso as a Floatzel, so that didn't count. And Fireball was old enough to evolve, had been for a long time. Jamin knew no one was looking at him but he still felt his face redden. Would the other students laugh at him?
This thought was quickly pushed to the back of his mind as he entered the school, clutching the now ragged piece of paper that told him his schedule. He tended to fidget a lot when he was bored, and for some reason paper was always that one thing that got utterly destroyed, crinkled and ripped up. However, it was somewhat legible, even though he had to peer close to read some words.
Jamin quickly took a seat in the main hall, shrugging off his backpack where his multiple PokeBalls were kept. His bag slightly bumped another student's leg next to him, but Jamin wasn't looking. Rather, he was staring wide-eyed at the teacher at the front, who gave off such an aura of...competence, that he was quite taken aback. When he talked, he commanded complete attention, and Jamin was enraptured the whole way through. The assembly ended, and Jamin stood again, taking the crinkled piece of paper out again.
'Room 108...ok.' He made his way, asking a few people, and got to the classroom without too much of a hitch. There was another guy standing just outside the door, so Jamin just casually stood next to him, like, 'Yeah, I'm cool'. When the other student didn't go in, he took a breath and asked, 'Er...is the door locked?'
This thought was quickly pushed to the back of his mind as he entered the school, clutching the now ragged piece of paper that told him his schedule. He tended to fidget a lot when he was bored, and for some reason paper was always that one thing that got utterly destroyed, crinkled and ripped up. However, it was somewhat legible, even though he had to peer close to read some words.
Jamin quickly took a seat in the main hall, shrugging off his backpack where his multiple PokeBalls were kept. His bag slightly bumped another student's leg next to him, but Jamin wasn't looking. Rather, he was staring wide-eyed at the teacher at the front, who gave off such an aura of...competence, that he was quite taken aback. When he talked, he commanded complete attention, and Jamin was enraptured the whole way through. The assembly ended, and Jamin stood again, taking the crinkled piece of paper out again.
'Room 108...ok.' He made his way, asking a few people, and got to the classroom without too much of a hitch. There was another guy standing just outside the door, so Jamin just casually stood next to him, like, 'Yeah, I'm cool'. When the other student didn't go in, he took a breath and asked, 'Er...is the door locked?'
IM STILL ALIVE I JUST NEED TO GET THIS POST UP
i dunno i feel my post is a bit long but i'll probably condense posts later... maybe that's what you guys like but I know every time I see a stupidly long post I die a bit inside....:P
It has started when Ricardo got a bite.
The day had begun like any other; Joshua got up at 7, showered, called his mum back in Detroit, drank his coffee and left. He grabbed his bike, stupidly large in the minuscule hallway of his equally minuscule flat, and ran down the three flights of stairs holding the bike above his head. He didn't meet anyone on the way down- taking the lift wasn't an option, it stank of piss and was liable to randomly stop in between floors. It didn't take Josh long to reach 'il Ritrovo', the Italian restaurant he was currently working at. He chained his bike to a signpost, and walked in. There weren't any customers, so he took his time, putting on his apron and making himself a second cup of coffee. He was fucking tired.
Ricardo Mazzioli, the head chef and owner of the restaurant, was already in, marinating some kind of meat. His son, the head of house, should've been in, but that deadbeat was probably out somewhere off his head and utterly wasted.
Work was slow, unusually slow. At one point no one came in for an hour straight, so Ricardo (and the rest of the staff, having now arrived) and Josh sat themselves down at a table, opened a bottle of table wine and wasted time. They were discussing life in general: sometimes the conversation broke into Italian, and Josh couldn't follow, but at one point Ricardo rolled up his long sleeves and displayed his forearm to everyone, exclaiming loudly in English,
'Look at this! Some hobo, yes, he runs up to me screaming, si, yelling fit to beat Jesus, grabs me and bites me! Right there, look.' Joshua had leaned in and was immediately shocked at how bad the wound smelt. It was two open puncture wounds, red and raw, and the skin around it was stretched and pink. There was definitely some green there too, but Joshua couldn't stand looking at it a second longer.
'Damn...Ricardo, get that checked out man. That's some infected shit.' 'I know it's some infected shit, but I don't think it is bad, it'll heal. I keep it away from the food, si?' 'Yeah, for sure. That's going green too, I'd go to the doctors, or the hospital or something.' Ricardo had laughed it off. Joshua wished he hadn't.
2 days passed and everything was fine- except that Ricardo was starting to waste away. It was the evening of the 2nd day and Josh was seriously concerned for the guy- he'd gone so deathly pale, almost blue, he kept coughing and was weak. But he kept on working. Josh and Ricardo were always the last ones to lock up, and to start the day. That's just how it was; after all, Josh didn't exactly have anything exciting to look forward to at home.
Joshua scraped congealed tomatoes off his long cooking knife when he heard a sort of muffled groan behind him, where Ricardo was washing up some pots and pans. Josh whipped around to see Ricardo on his knees slumped up against the cupboard, with his back to him. Putting down his knife, Josh leapt over to see what had happened. He turned Ricardo over, put his fingers to his neck and went pale when he realised there was no pulse there.
'Shit...' He didn't know the recovery position. If only he hadn't flunked first aid workshops.
He fished into his pocket, pulled out his phone and dialed '911'. He kept his eyes on Ricardo, but when the ambulance person asked for the number of the shop, he nipped outside to see what it was. He chuckled darkly to himself. 'I should probably have known that huh...' He re-entered the shop and when he turned around to close the door he heard a quiet but distinct groan coming from the kitchen. Joshua sprinted back. Ricardo had woken up- but how? He'd died, hadn't he? Well, Josh had never been any good with medical knowledge, but he was pretty sure that no pulse meant dead.
He returned to the exact same spot as he was before, his back to the counter he was just working at, facing Ricardo. Josh outstretched his hand, touching Ricardo's shoulder, saying 'Thank god, man, I thought you was dead. I called the ambulance, they'll be here in a minute, ok?' Ricardo didn't say anything, he just gave another groan. Which, concerningly, sounded a hell of a lot like a growl. Ricardo and Josh were perfectly in sync: as he turned around slowly, Josh took a step back. As his face came into view, another step back. His eyes- wow, his eyes- they were horrific. Bloodshot, the pupil tiny, but the worst thing was the crazed look in them. Ricardo stood, his gait a bit wobbly. Josh was just frozen, his breathing was ragged.
Ricardo lunged for him.
In one movement, Josh's hand grabbed the tomato-y knife and plunged it into Ricardo's chest. He fell back, howling, but came for him again. Josh yelled as he swiped it at Ricardo's face, again and again, until he fell. Josh stood there for a few minutes, shaking, his clothes coated in blood.
'Fuck...fuck, fuck.' Josh was still shaking, but something told him to grab that damn knife; it had fallen on the floor, its handle was slick with blood and had fallen from his hand. That or he was trembling too much.
He quickly washed the blade clean, took off his bloody apron and tucked the knife into his hoodie. Then he ran.
The ambulance never arrived.
The day had begun like any other; Joshua got up at 7, showered, called his mum back in Detroit, drank his coffee and left. He grabbed his bike, stupidly large in the minuscule hallway of his equally minuscule flat, and ran down the three flights of stairs holding the bike above his head. He didn't meet anyone on the way down- taking the lift wasn't an option, it stank of piss and was liable to randomly stop in between floors. It didn't take Josh long to reach 'il Ritrovo', the Italian restaurant he was currently working at. He chained his bike to a signpost, and walked in. There weren't any customers, so he took his time, putting on his apron and making himself a second cup of coffee. He was fucking tired.
Ricardo Mazzioli, the head chef and owner of the restaurant, was already in, marinating some kind of meat. His son, the head of house, should've been in, but that deadbeat was probably out somewhere off his head and utterly wasted.
Work was slow, unusually slow. At one point no one came in for an hour straight, so Ricardo (and the rest of the staff, having now arrived) and Josh sat themselves down at a table, opened a bottle of table wine and wasted time. They were discussing life in general: sometimes the conversation broke into Italian, and Josh couldn't follow, but at one point Ricardo rolled up his long sleeves and displayed his forearm to everyone, exclaiming loudly in English,
'Look at this! Some hobo, yes, he runs up to me screaming, si, yelling fit to beat Jesus, grabs me and bites me! Right there, look.' Joshua had leaned in and was immediately shocked at how bad the wound smelt. It was two open puncture wounds, red and raw, and the skin around it was stretched and pink. There was definitely some green there too, but Joshua couldn't stand looking at it a second longer.
'Damn...Ricardo, get that checked out man. That's some infected shit.' 'I know it's some infected shit, but I don't think it is bad, it'll heal. I keep it away from the food, si?' 'Yeah, for sure. That's going green too, I'd go to the doctors, or the hospital or something.' Ricardo had laughed it off. Joshua wished he hadn't.
2 days passed and everything was fine- except that Ricardo was starting to waste away. It was the evening of the 2nd day and Josh was seriously concerned for the guy- he'd gone so deathly pale, almost blue, he kept coughing and was weak. But he kept on working. Josh and Ricardo were always the last ones to lock up, and to start the day. That's just how it was; after all, Josh didn't exactly have anything exciting to look forward to at home.
Joshua scraped congealed tomatoes off his long cooking knife when he heard a sort of muffled groan behind him, where Ricardo was washing up some pots and pans. Josh whipped around to see Ricardo on his knees slumped up against the cupboard, with his back to him. Putting down his knife, Josh leapt over to see what had happened. He turned Ricardo over, put his fingers to his neck and went pale when he realised there was no pulse there.
'Shit...' He didn't know the recovery position. If only he hadn't flunked first aid workshops.
He fished into his pocket, pulled out his phone and dialed '911'. He kept his eyes on Ricardo, but when the ambulance person asked for the number of the shop, he nipped outside to see what it was. He chuckled darkly to himself. 'I should probably have known that huh...' He re-entered the shop and when he turned around to close the door he heard a quiet but distinct groan coming from the kitchen. Joshua sprinted back. Ricardo had woken up- but how? He'd died, hadn't he? Well, Josh had never been any good with medical knowledge, but he was pretty sure that no pulse meant dead.
He returned to the exact same spot as he was before, his back to the counter he was just working at, facing Ricardo. Josh outstretched his hand, touching Ricardo's shoulder, saying 'Thank god, man, I thought you was dead. I called the ambulance, they'll be here in a minute, ok?' Ricardo didn't say anything, he just gave another groan. Which, concerningly, sounded a hell of a lot like a growl. Ricardo and Josh were perfectly in sync: as he turned around slowly, Josh took a step back. As his face came into view, another step back. His eyes- wow, his eyes- they were horrific. Bloodshot, the pupil tiny, but the worst thing was the crazed look in them. Ricardo stood, his gait a bit wobbly. Josh was just frozen, his breathing was ragged.
Ricardo lunged for him.
In one movement, Josh's hand grabbed the tomato-y knife and plunged it into Ricardo's chest. He fell back, howling, but came for him again. Josh yelled as he swiped it at Ricardo's face, again and again, until he fell. Josh stood there for a few minutes, shaking, his clothes coated in blood.
'Fuck...fuck, fuck.' Josh was still shaking, but something told him to grab that damn knife; it had fallen on the floor, its handle was slick with blood and had fallen from his hand. That or he was trembling too much.
He quickly washed the blade clean, took off his bloody apron and tucked the knife into his hoodie. Then he ran.
The ambulance never arrived.
Name: Joshua Mitchell
Age: 20
Picture/description: Joshua has relatively light skin for a black man, and stands at 5'10". His hair is braided into cornrows but they were done a while back, and are starting to loosen up. His face is quite thin, as is the rest of his body, and his eyes are a very dark brown. He tends to frown a lot but he has a brilliant smile. He has a very lean body, although he does have strong muscles as he loved cycling, running and just generally being active out and about.
Personality: He's a definite optimist, and tries to see the best in people. But he's also seen a lot so trust isn't something that comes easy to him; he's generally polite and willing to have a chat with anyone but getting close to people can be a labour of love. He likes hoping for the best, but that doesn't stop him from planning for the worst, and is constantly on the look-out for traps. Joshua is a bookish type of guy, never into gangs or fighting, and definitely values his mind over his body. He used to stay inside and read books about things that interested him, but a while back he figured it was worth his while getting into shape, seeing as he never expected he'd make it out of his hometown, Detroit. And god knows being fit was helpful with the kind of people he grew up with.
Biography: He was one of three brothers; the youngest, in fact. The eldest was mad about hip-hop and when Joshua was 12 his brother flew out to LA trying to make his fortune. His other brother was 4 years Joshua's senior, and was quickly enveloped into the gang culture. No-one thought he would do any harm until he started beating people up and smuggling soft drugs. He was in juvie for about a year, but then returned to the streets. Last time Joshua was in Detroit, his brother was involved in a furious gang-war that sometimes brought the members of the opposing gang to his house, throwing rocks against the windows and harassing his mum. Joshua was glad to move. When he was 18, Joshua moved from Detroit to New York City, to try and further his education. He soon ran out of money and started working in a little Italian restaurant. Being a quick learner, Joshua rapidly learnt how to cook and soon became a "chef" in the kitchen.
Foils: Joshua loves fire- he's a bit of a pyromaniac, for some reason. He smokes cigarettes sometimes but one time as a dare he smoked some weed and got slightly addicted. It's not a raging addiction, as he tries to keep clear of that whole scene. Nowadays he rarely smokes dope.
Starting/ primary weapon: A flick-knife thing that was from his dad, and his favourite cooking knife: long blade with a serrated ed, with a black rubber handle.
Age: 20
Picture/description: Joshua has relatively light skin for a black man, and stands at 5'10". His hair is braided into cornrows but they were done a while back, and are starting to loosen up. His face is quite thin, as is the rest of his body, and his eyes are a very dark brown. He tends to frown a lot but he has a brilliant smile. He has a very lean body, although he does have strong muscles as he loved cycling, running and just generally being active out and about.
Personality: He's a definite optimist, and tries to see the best in people. But he's also seen a lot so trust isn't something that comes easy to him; he's generally polite and willing to have a chat with anyone but getting close to people can be a labour of love. He likes hoping for the best, but that doesn't stop him from planning for the worst, and is constantly on the look-out for traps. Joshua is a bookish type of guy, never into gangs or fighting, and definitely values his mind over his body. He used to stay inside and read books about things that interested him, but a while back he figured it was worth his while getting into shape, seeing as he never expected he'd make it out of his hometown, Detroit. And god knows being fit was helpful with the kind of people he grew up with.
Biography: He was one of three brothers; the youngest, in fact. The eldest was mad about hip-hop and when Joshua was 12 his brother flew out to LA trying to make his fortune. His other brother was 4 years Joshua's senior, and was quickly enveloped into the gang culture. No-one thought he would do any harm until he started beating people up and smuggling soft drugs. He was in juvie for about a year, but then returned to the streets. Last time Joshua was in Detroit, his brother was involved in a furious gang-war that sometimes brought the members of the opposing gang to his house, throwing rocks against the windows and harassing his mum. Joshua was glad to move. When he was 18, Joshua moved from Detroit to New York City, to try and further his education. He soon ran out of money and started working in a little Italian restaurant. Being a quick learner, Joshua rapidly learnt how to cook and soon became a "chef" in the kitchen.
Foils: Joshua loves fire- he's a bit of a pyromaniac, for some reason. He smokes cigarettes sometimes but one time as a dare he smoked some weed and got slightly addicted. It's not a raging addiction, as he tries to keep clear of that whole scene. Nowadays he rarely smokes dope.
Starting/ primary weapon: A flick-knife thing that was from his dad, and his favourite cooking knife: long blade with a serrated ed, with a black rubber handle.
Sorry I completely missed this it's kinda late so I'll get to work on my CS tomorrow
hah best battle theme music everrrr
You're joking right? The power lies with the
Name: Jamin (as in Benjamin but for some reason I was always called Jamin)
Gender: Male
Age: 15
Appearance:
<- WINTER SUIT | SUMMER SUIT ->
Region of Origin: Sinnoh
City of Origin: In the country immediately west to Sunyshore City
History: I was born and raised on a small farm growing crops near Sunyshore City. Being the youngest out of five brothers wasn't easy, because we were not in the least well-off, but we managed. In all honesty, until I was 14 I had never even heard of Pokemon. I belonged to a tiny village- not even, just a collection of houses- and we had never come into contact with them as companions. They were simply wild things that sometimes came by our fences and ate our stuff, so we chased them off our property, day in, day out. There was a tiny (and I mean, tiny) school in the village literally just to teach us how to read and write, but someone came in one day saying, 'There's this kid in the rich school in Sunyshore who has one of those animals thingys as a pet!'
That was the first time I'd ever heard of Pokemon being used as companions, and from then on I was entranced. I began working for another farmer, a family friend, earning up some money, and every month I'd go into Sunyshore and just talk to the Trainers going into the gym, people fishing on the docks, anyone who looked like they owned Pokemon.
It was almost my 15th birthday when my dad caught something out in the yard. He yelled out to me, saying, 'Jamin! Look at this!' And in his hands was a tiny little monkey-looking pokemon, basically a baby, looking utterly terrified. I didn't know what it was called; the only pokemons I had ever seen were a few Bidoof and once or twice a Kricketot. He was going to throw the little pokemon back into the long-grass, but for some reason I felt compelled to stop him. I wanted to keep this little pokemon; and in any case, he looked like he needed my help.
The rest is basically history: I nursed the pokemon back to help, calling him 'Fireball' and I took him everywhere with me. I didn't have a PokeBall, so he tried to leg it a few times but I soon caught him, and after a while he seemed happy at my side. I continued to work, making my way to Sunyshore. And one day I bought myself a nice shiny Pokeball- I intended to challenge the Leader and maybe get more money, so I could go and visit some of the more notable cities in Sinnoh. Beating him with only Fireball was tough as hell but I did it and returned home triumphantly. Unfortunately Fireball got so worked up he burnt down two crop-fields and an outhouse.
My parents, after yelling at me for a long, long time, forbade me to return home until 'I had gotten that goddamn fire monkey under control!' So I left home with my winnings, one shiny PokeBall and my litte FireBall. After an unfathomably long time I got all the Gym Badges, with a team of four pokemon, and I was all set for Victory Road when I was approached by a stranger, who invited me to a school in a completely different region. I agreed immediately, totally forgetting about my parents. I hope I can contact them soon...
Personality: (mind if I use 3rd person here?)
Jamin is a small-town boy who is honestly amazed by all he sees, and is very vocal about this. He thinks the world of his Pokemon, and knows them better than he knows himself, but they continue to astound him every day. He's very wide-eyed, the opposite in fact to his more world-weary elders he's encountered on his journey. That said, despite not being a great farmer he's an expert in the wild, especially navigation, as that was the only way to get around back home. He really enjoys life, but most importantly he never holds grudges against those he's beaten or lost against in battle. He goes into battle with a clear mind, and doesn't see any shame in backing out if his Pokemon are in danger. Basically, he's no warrior.
Battle Theme: ....?
Species: Chimchar
Nickname: Fireball
Appearance:
Personality: A lot like Jamin- excitable, wide-eyed, but also extremely lazy. He thought he liked walking around until he discovered the PokeBall. But he still likes coming out for a stroll sometimes.
Notable Moves: Flamethrower
Flare Blitz
High Jump Kick
Blue Flare
Species: Floatzel
Nickname: Queso
Appearance:
Personality: Queso is a bit of a cheesy pokemon, in the sense that she's always about 'the power of the team' and makes no bones about the fact that she loves Jamin very dearly. She's the sensible, resolute one; a bit like the determination Jamin sometimes shows. Sometimes. When he feels like it.
Notable Moves: Surf
Hydro Pump
Dive
Hydro Cannon
Species: Skarmory
Nickname: Razzo
Appearance:
Personality: Jamin called his Skarmory 'Razzo', or 'rocket', because when he first saw him he made Queso faint and then took off into the sky like a rocket. Razzo is probably the coldest of all Jamin's Pokemon: he's really shy, and in battle he sometimes needs holding back, as if he gets too involved in the match he has a tendency to try and really hurt the opponent. Razzo was hard to train, tried to leg it continually, but now Jamin and Razzo are almost inseperable.
Notable Moves: Fly
Iron Head
Brave Bird
Doom Desire
Species: Electivire
Nickname: Zappos
Appearance:
Personality: Zappos, despite his aggressive appearance, is the biggest softie Jamin has ever encountered in a Pokemon. He's a real daydreamer, hates his Pokeball and likes making friends with every Pokemon he sees. He can be very quick and decisive in battle, and is well aware of his strengths and weaknesses. He's great friends with Queso, even though she's a Water-type.
Notable Moves: Ice Punch
Thunderpunch
Cross Chop
Earthquake
Gender: Male
Age: 15
Appearance:
<- WINTER SUIT | SUMMER SUIT ->Region of Origin: Sinnoh
City of Origin: In the country immediately west to Sunyshore City
History: I was born and raised on a small farm growing crops near Sunyshore City. Being the youngest out of five brothers wasn't easy, because we were not in the least well-off, but we managed. In all honesty, until I was 14 I had never even heard of Pokemon. I belonged to a tiny village- not even, just a collection of houses- and we had never come into contact with them as companions. They were simply wild things that sometimes came by our fences and ate our stuff, so we chased them off our property, day in, day out. There was a tiny (and I mean, tiny) school in the village literally just to teach us how to read and write, but someone came in one day saying, 'There's this kid in the rich school in Sunyshore who has one of those animals thingys as a pet!'
That was the first time I'd ever heard of Pokemon being used as companions, and from then on I was entranced. I began working for another farmer, a family friend, earning up some money, and every month I'd go into Sunyshore and just talk to the Trainers going into the gym, people fishing on the docks, anyone who looked like they owned Pokemon.
It was almost my 15th birthday when my dad caught something out in the yard. He yelled out to me, saying, 'Jamin! Look at this!' And in his hands was a tiny little monkey-looking pokemon, basically a baby, looking utterly terrified. I didn't know what it was called; the only pokemons I had ever seen were a few Bidoof and once or twice a Kricketot. He was going to throw the little pokemon back into the long-grass, but for some reason I felt compelled to stop him. I wanted to keep this little pokemon; and in any case, he looked like he needed my help.
The rest is basically history: I nursed the pokemon back to help, calling him 'Fireball' and I took him everywhere with me. I didn't have a PokeBall, so he tried to leg it a few times but I soon caught him, and after a while he seemed happy at my side. I continued to work, making my way to Sunyshore. And one day I bought myself a nice shiny Pokeball- I intended to challenge the Leader and maybe get more money, so I could go and visit some of the more notable cities in Sinnoh. Beating him with only Fireball was tough as hell but I did it and returned home triumphantly. Unfortunately Fireball got so worked up he burnt down two crop-fields and an outhouse.
My parents, after yelling at me for a long, long time, forbade me to return home until 'I had gotten that goddamn fire monkey under control!' So I left home with my winnings, one shiny PokeBall and my litte FireBall. After an unfathomably long time I got all the Gym Badges, with a team of four pokemon, and I was all set for Victory Road when I was approached by a stranger, who invited me to a school in a completely different region. I agreed immediately, totally forgetting about my parents. I hope I can contact them soon...
Personality: (mind if I use 3rd person here?)
Jamin is a small-town boy who is honestly amazed by all he sees, and is very vocal about this. He thinks the world of his Pokemon, and knows them better than he knows himself, but they continue to astound him every day. He's very wide-eyed, the opposite in fact to his more world-weary elders he's encountered on his journey. That said, despite not being a great farmer he's an expert in the wild, especially navigation, as that was the only way to get around back home. He really enjoys life, but most importantly he never holds grudges against those he's beaten or lost against in battle. He goes into battle with a clear mind, and doesn't see any shame in backing out if his Pokemon are in danger. Basically, he's no warrior.
Battle Theme: ....?
Species: Chimchar
Nickname: Fireball
Appearance:
Personality: A lot like Jamin- excitable, wide-eyed, but also extremely lazy. He thought he liked walking around until he discovered the PokeBall. But he still likes coming out for a stroll sometimes.
Notable Moves: Flamethrower
Flare Blitz
High Jump Kick
Blue Flare
Species: Floatzel
Nickname: Queso
Appearance:
Personality: Queso is a bit of a cheesy pokemon, in the sense that she's always about 'the power of the team' and makes no bones about the fact that she loves Jamin very dearly. She's the sensible, resolute one; a bit like the determination Jamin sometimes shows. Sometimes. When he feels like it.
Notable Moves: Surf
Hydro Pump
Dive
Hydro Cannon
Species: Skarmory
Nickname: Razzo
Appearance:
Personality: Jamin called his Skarmory 'Razzo', or 'rocket', because when he first saw him he made Queso faint and then took off into the sky like a rocket. Razzo is probably the coldest of all Jamin's Pokemon: he's really shy, and in battle he sometimes needs holding back, as if he gets too involved in the match he has a tendency to try and really hurt the opponent. Razzo was hard to train, tried to leg it continually, but now Jamin and Razzo are almost inseperable.
Notable Moves: Fly
Iron Head
Brave Bird
Doom Desire
Species: Electivire
Nickname: Zappos
Appearance:
Personality: Zappos, despite his aggressive appearance, is the biggest softie Jamin has ever encountered in a Pokemon. He's a real daydreamer, hates his Pokeball and likes making friends with every Pokemon he sees. He can be very quick and decisive in battle, and is well aware of his strengths and weaknesses. He's great friends with Queso, even though she's a Water-type.
Notable Moves: Ice Punch
Thunderpunch
Cross Chop
Earthquake
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