Hair Color & Style His hair is quite long, right down to his waist, and sleek, as if he takes daily care of it. On most occasions it’s left loose with only a single braid tucked in the side, but sometimes he may pull the whole thing back in a large braid to keep it neat and out of the way. The long tresses are layered and thinned, and the bangs quite long and messy as if it’s been a very long time since he’s had them cut. The color is a bright, grassy green, as if its been recently dyed or carefully maintained. Very rarely, only for exceptionally formal occasions or temporary things when he needs to quickly put his hair back, he’ll tie his hair in a high ponytail with a white elastic he keeps in his bag.
Eyes His eyes are almond shaped, the irises sharp and never missing a detail. They have a distinct greenish-blue color, but specks of brown catch the light in sunsets/sunrises at certain angles, giving it a very slight hazel tone, especially under the shadows of the upper lids.
Clothing/Accessories His favorite outfit is certainly a unique style, no doubt custom made by his mother. A black coat with silver buttons and studs, the left arm done in a checkered pattern with a black armband and another slight checkered pattern on the trim of the right inside, all thrown over a tan dress shirt and loose black tie. Form fitting black slacks are tucked under an odd black skirt-like piece with silver studs along the side and a longer slanted tail down the back. Black heeled boots sit under the slacks. On his head, a matching black cap with a checkered pattern around the base sits comfortably.
He also, for some reason, carries around a very regal looking outfit consisting of a black cape with blue underneath, an adjust form of his first mentioned coat with the same underneath color, white trim, a white belt, both the coat and belt having gold buttons. White boots with gold trim sit over black pants, and white gloves and a crown complete the ensemble. Presumably this might work as an outfit should he decide to participate in contests, but for the most part it just gathers dust at the bottom of his bag and works for a humorous conversation piece. All of his clothes are packed tightly inside a large black dufflebag, and a separate black and blue bag sits on his opposite side carrying all of his other supplies. Sometimes, a camera can be seen hanging around his neck. (See: Items) Most of the outfits he carries can be assumed to be the product of his mothers creativity.
In hot weather he tends to lose the coat and skirt piece, sticking for simpler layers. On some fancier occasions he dresses in a maroon and black militaristic coat with gold buttons and more checkered patterns on the cuffs. This is worn with tan slacks and simple black dress shoes, as well as three belts - white, black and gold chain over black leather respectively - with a black dress shirt underneath. His signature cap remains.
When particularly casual, he may dress in a black medium sleeved shirt with a camouflage right side, a striped gray long sleeved shirt underneath, and a pair simple blue gray jeans, checkered socks, and runners. He also has a white and gray traditional looking bathrobe/nightrobe with a pair of gray shorts for sleepwear. He also keeps on hand a red umbrella, black winter gloves, a red and white checkered scarf and a fur trimmed red coat with white details with a hood for snowy weather, as well as thicker white snow pants and black snow boots with white fur trim. Furthermore, there is also a more classy black coat and pale pink dress shirt he carries around for actually formal occasions.
General Appearance Coltish in build, with a broad shouldered, narrow hipped physique. His skin is slightly tanned, almost unnoticeably so, and his long legged stride and build suggests someone who spends a lot of time walking. Sharp features can be considered feminine, but attractive, with the kind of shape that's difficult to age. It's not uncommon for him to sometimes be mistaken for a female. Thin, long fingers and palm form pianist hands, and his lacking upper body build points to walking probably being his only regular physical activity. His expression is mostly light, and the manner in which he looks at the world drinks in details, with the wonder of a travelers heart. His step is light on his feet, a dancers stride, but his ability to trip over thin air leads away from the assumption of any skill in that particular art. He seems to have a nack for getting scratched up regularly, but likewise seems to heal quickly from small injuries.
Personality
Overall, Totin is fairly easy going. A pushover, actually. Not to mention he will reluctantly admit to being a bit of a 'crybaby' in his own words, although he never cries without reason, such as the loss of his mother, or the joy of his Zubat being safe and sound when he thought it was gone once. He's not the type to fight back, although he'd never leave a friend behind. He's the type who'd take a hit with a smile if it meant protecting someone close to him. Not quite masochistic, though it's not an uncommon joke thrown his way. Totin runs a bit on the shy side, and often around others, especially large crowds, he fumbles his words, which has led him into his fair share of trouble. A magnet for bad luck, the young trainer has a habit of winding himself in bad situations with a misplaced word and an even more failed attempt to correct himself. With his Zubats habits, it's fairly common to find him in some sort of hilarious misfortune. Because of this, it's not easy to find a dull moment with Totin.
Totin has a love of visual art, especially the kind that lives and breaths in the world around him. He can get easily distracted by the perfect sunset or falling leaves, stopping to snap a picture at sometimes very bad times. Needless to say, he was nearly trampled by a Rhydon trying to snap a picture of a baby Pidgeys first flight. At least he got the shot.
Despite his easy going attitude, Totin suffers from bouts of slight depression and feelings of helplessness and lack of life direction. Brief moments in the day, and more often night, he can be caught lost in thought, his usual smile fading. He distracts himself in his best efforts by living out one day at a time, pushing aside any ideas of long term plans.
Though he has a love for visuals and even literary arts, his mathematical skills are downright poor, and his sense of direction is hopeless. It's not hard to tell how his ability with maps are, as a result, and he's more likely the follower than the leader in almost all situations. He lacks aspiration and ambition, his 'dream' simply being to fulfill his mothers wishes and see the world through the lens of his camera, capturing his favorite moments for eternity.
When it comes to authority figures, Totin seems to be able to pull off quite a bit of class, but only to the extent a subordinate would have. He has high respect, and can generally follow an older age groups conversation. His skill with young children is fair, though he lacks experience he seems to have enough ability to connect with children that they likewise connect well with him.
In regards to his own age group, though, he's completely lost. Ask him about talking to a girl, dating, or anything teenager-related and he'll reward with a priceless expression of '...huh...?' Spending little to no time with those of his own age group, he isn't always sure how to connect with them, which comes back around to his ability to fumble words and jump head first into deep trouble. Brave he is not, though. When it comes to anything spooky, scary, creepy, etc, he's the first to run away, although he'll probably drag any accompanying friends along if he can. Seriously, this is not the kind of guy to ask to go fetch something you forgot in that dark infested cave... Not to mention, he also has a seriously debilitating fear of bees and bee-type pokemon, and spiders and spider-type pokemon (although the fear towards bees is significantly stronger).
History
It is said that children that are quiet and always obedient have something wrong with them. Abused perhaps, or something along the same line. Thinking on it, Totin would probably disagree. He was never hit as a child, or hurt, or anything of the like, yet he was always an agreeable boy, unlike his older brother, Monty. (Although he despises the nickname, preferring to go by his full name of Montgomery Ruslan Mcnair). No, there was no need for a slap to get his attention. His mother had always held enough pain. It was his mother, a single working female who raised him and his brother alone from birth, and the sight of her emotional struggle, that always stood as enough reason for him to obey. To do as he needed, to do anything it took to keep the smile on his mothers lips. It was the sight of his mothers pain, shed tears, and her struggling grip on life glimpsed through the slit in the bedroom door at three in the morning, that gave him purpose. Day by day, the growing boy worked hard, helping his mother collect silk from the Wurmple and Caterpie she kept on their small piece of land on the edge of the town to create clothes that sold for minimal.
His brother was not the same, though. It wasn’t that he was lazy, but rather that he held a vanity that rivaled both his parents, inheriting his mothers dislike for the small town. It was unsurprising that the moment he was of age, he went off to receive his own pokemon, abandoning the family in favor of his pokemon journey. Totin was not so eager to leave, and when he came of age he simply passed the offer by, continuing to work each day to help his mother make ends meet. They received few letters, enough to know that yes, Monty was still alive, and steadily making a name for himself as a co-ordinator and pokemon model with his pokemon companion, although each year they grew less in frequency until eventually stopping entirely.
His mother also hated the town, though, and she made a point of saying so often. She outwardly criticized those who believed in psychics, such as her own mother who'd spent every penny trying and failing to prove that she had such a 'gift', leaving the family to struggle day by day. This vocalization no doubt didn't help their ability to sell clothing to the locals, although they made enough to get by on stubborn shoppers and passing travelers, with the bi-monthly trips his mother took to Cascadia covering the rough patches. When it came down to Totin's father, his mother never spoke about the subject, refusing to remember the dark haired beauty who'd stolen her heart and dumped her with a child three months after the birth to chase after some big adventure and die in a rock climbing accident.
Schooling in his early years was done at home. He learned mathematics by counting how many piles of silk had been produced. English was learned writing letters to costumers, and so on. It wasn't until age eight his mother had managed enough of an income to send him to public school. The sudden change from the privacy of learning at home to that of a public setting was a large shock, and it was unsurprising that social awkwardness came too easily to Totin. It was difficult for him to make long friends, as many children his age were either intolerable of his shyness or fed off it in a negative way. By the time a few years had passed, Totin had essentially become locked in such a social position, only really connecting with a select few, most adults.
Growing up, Totin wanted for little. He never let his mind dwell on things he couldn't afford, afraid that asking for things would shatter the fragile moods of his mother. There was one thing, though, that he couldn't help but linger seeing. In school, Totin always had an eye for visual arts, and secretly dreamed of owning a camera ever since his Arts teacher lent him one for a week long project. Catching his gaze, his mother made him a deal that he could put aside half of what he worked for towards it each month. Delighted, Totin worked harder than ever, long into the nights to save up for it. When he'd reach halfway to his goal, his mother surprised him with the other half of the funds, purchasing for him a fairly nice camera on his birthday.
Totin's love for his mother showed in more than just simple labor. An example would lie in his hair. During his eighth year, his mother had offered to dye it for him. Excited, he'd agreed wholeheartedly to the bonding experience. Unfortunately neither had much experience, and the resulting attempt for blond hair from his natural color left it green instead. His mother idly commented on how much she loved the color and length, and driven by that single comment Totin never cut his hair and continued to dye it that green shade, clinging to the rare happy memory of a time they'd connected.
Though they struggled, Totin loved his mother with every fiber. He bore burdens no child should have to bear for her sake. He was sixteen and a half when his mother fell ill, leaving him to bear the burden of her work, as well as taking care of it. Sensing her death approaching, just after his seventeenth she begged Totin to promise her one thing. On her death, he was to open a box in her closet and take its contents with him, and go out in the world, following the instructions. Eager to please as always, he agreed, only to watch the light fade from her eyes before he could finish his promise. That night, he didn't move, laying till morning cradling her lifeless body as if as long as he didn't let go, there was a chance she'd come back. Had it not been for a neighbor who'd taken to checking in on them daily since his mother had fallen ill, he might have lain there till he'd faded away with her. Once his mother had finally been pried from his arms, he'd fallen still and remained in that room for several days, until one morning a ray of sunrise managed to drag his attention to the aforementioned closet with a shimmer of light on the knob. Remembering his promise, he finally dragged himself out of his stupor.
Within the box, he found only three things. A pokeball, a note, and a fair amount of money. The note came in two parts. The first was a letter addressed to him. The pokemon inside was named 'Zorro', and needed him to keep living. His mother wanted him to go out, fulfilling her dream of traveling and seeing the world with Zorro, training him and so on. The money was the standard amount most pokemon trainers expected. As for the second note, it was addressed to the local professor with a brief explanation. Reluctantly, Totin knew he couldn't deny his mother's final wishes.
Still, he didn't open the pokeball until he'd met the professor and had caught an idle comment about needing to meet his future partner. Needless to say his first meeting with Zorro was disastrous. It was as if the Zubat knew everything that had happened and blamed him, for the second it appeared it refused to go back in its pokeball, and consistently attacked him, yanking on his hair, etc. Soon, it resorted to smaller actions though, frequently making off with its new owners camera and leading him into whatever disaster it could, as if saving energy. Yet despite this, Zorro somehow reminded Totin of his mother, and so he clung to this to relieve the ache of his fresh loss, determined to follow the last wishes and train this pokemon. Somehow. Knowing nothing of how to even train one.
The journey of the fool. No wonder the tarot reader on his way out had given him that particular card.
There's only two "changes"! The first is that your "EXP Gauge" is incorrect, but you know how to find that out. Second would be that you're missing the accumulative number for your "Total Stats". coughisit50or55cough
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