Character Name: Reginald Nancy Arduino Ramirez.
Nicknames: Reggie.
Age: 19
Birthday: 7th of Spring
Gender: Cool.
Status: Groovy.
Description
Height: 5'9.7"
Weight: 162 lbs, 73.5 kg.
Eyes: His eyes are almond-shaped, a sort of charming quality to them that make him seem rather earnest. Their color is a vivid and striking light brown, a golden amber not unlike that of certain fossils. His brows are somewhat angular, and when he isn't smirking or sneering, he looks a bit unfriendly.
Hair: Literally the coolest. His hair is perpetually done up in a voluminous pompadour with a single, thick curl in the front that rests towards the left of his forehead, and it's duck tail styled in the back.
Skin: His skin retains a warm, wheaty complexion.
Markings:He has a small scar bridging across the edge of his jaw on the right side of his face.
Health Issues: None, beyond some mild myopia.
Key Inventory items: The most stylin' of leather jackets, and his switchblade comb for all groomin' emergencies. And his glasses, I guess.
But no, really. You won't find another leather jacket more well kept, a 618 Perfecto motorcycle jacket, polished and maintained lovingly. Reggie keeps it like a child, and can almost always be spotted wearing it, no matter the circumstances. The glasses are something he never pulls out, hiding them if only to preserve his image. They've got black frames, made with durability in mind- Otherwise, he relies on a set of contacts to see properly.
Other:
Roll Bonuses and Penalties:
Strength: + 1
Reggie has spent a lot of his life moving around car parts and getting in fights. It stands to reason he'd stay in shape to survive- And so he does, staying in what good condition he can, even if he was never really the strongest of his group, but the admittedly lacking diet from Black City always held him back.
Agility: + 2
One of Reggie's real talents was in how quick he was on his feet, skirting through alleyways and maneuvering around people, getting through crowds and catching guys who'd nab his wallet.
Subtlety: +/- 0
He was never the best at hiding, but sometimes, it was just flat a necessity. The gang wasn't always there- Makeshift cover, dumpsters, and sometimes, standing really still was all that was between him, and the business end of somebody's shank. He has a light step, but he usually had his gang to back him up.
Intelligence: - 3
Reggie has neglected intellectual pursuits for quite some time. Every day was working with machines- While he's practically a savant in this regard, it's really only in this regard. He wants to improve, he honestly does, but he's got to make up for a lack of any formal education and time spent only working and trying to survive, even if he is a quick learner.
Stamina: +3
This is where Reggie really shines. Countless days spent working non-stop, spent moving with the gang, and spent in fights both inside and out of the infamous Alabaster club's fighting pit honed Reggie into a very durable individual. It's difficult to keep him down- He may not be as strong or as smart as he might've been had he led a better life, but he's definitely tougher for it. You don't get out of Black City by being a wimp.
Life Style
Religion: Reggie never had much time for a religion. He never asked his parents, and they never sat him down- But never having seen the stars over Unova due to all the bright lights and bustle, and the constant darkness above Black City, he finds a sort of divinity in the countless stars above Toro.
Profession(s): None, as of yet.
Title(s): Self-Proclaimed Toughest Around, and Coolest. So far, Best Hair In Toro, too.
Pixelmon
Species: Klang
Nickname: It varies. Sometimes it's Motorhead, other times, Gearbox, and sometimes, he likes to call it after his old gang- King Klang. Usually, it's Sprocket. He doesn't let on that he doesn't actually know what to call it.
Gender: Reggie isn't actually too sure whether or not that applies to it.
Nature: Bold. Reggie might even say rash, because it's got a habit of getting in over it's head. It's a tough set of gears, though. Made of steel, after all.
History: Reggie met his Klink in his family garage, while working on a shady customers equally shady vehicle- More specifically, he met it when it exploded out of the engine, nearly speared him, wrecked his garage, and he managed to re-capture it in it's Pixelball. Quite the wild ride, but he's bonded a fair amount with the hardy Klink, and not long after their arrival, it turned into a Klang. It tends to rebel and not follow Reggie's orders, but Reggie still considers it a companion, and he finds the steady sound of it's metal clinks very calming to listen to, like the ticking of a clock.
Biography
Parents: Alvaro Ramirez was pops, Denise Arduino was ma. The Nancy in his name came from his grandpa, ma's side.
Siblings: There's nothin' here, Chief.
Children: None yet, no thanks. Still livin' the life of a bachelor.
Extended Family: Reggie ain't got a clue whatever became of his grandparents, but people in Black City ain't in the habit of living long, dig? As for any cousins, he don't remember any aunts, 're any uncles, neither. No sir, Reggie is the last of his line, given his pops kicked it, maybe.
History:
His story began in a back-alley clinic in Black City, Unova. Born to a low-income, working family, life never was exactly easy. Initially, Reggie was pushed into school in hopes that he'd be able to escape the lifestyle that his parents were unable to leave. His father had pushed him the hardest, as very soon after his birth, his mother took up drinking again, having given it up for the duration of the time she was pregnant. They were always on the brink of poverty, living in a dingy apartment on a bad block, in the shadow of one of the towers that the city was so known for- Though the tower never made it feel like home to Reggie. It had always loomed there, always seemed to lord over him.
Things weren't exactly getting easier- His mother didn't work, and despite being a promising student, Reggie dropped out of school before third grade to help his father work, and a lack of affirmative action programs in Black City didn't allow him any sort of benefits to help him cope. This was when the negativity of his situation at home truly began to hit him, working grease-stained evenings with his father, fixing and tuning every single thing that had a motor that came in, among other things. He took well to the work, however, becoming enraptured by the world of machines, listening to every grind and clash of metal, listening carefully to the roar of an engine starting up- It fascinated him, provided him a sort of escape from his situation.
He didn't enjoy speaking of home. At home, his mother used to yell at him and his father. Broken bottles, more yelling, the smell of slcohol- None of it exactly went down as a positive memory for him. Though through thick and thin, he never once saw his father falter, never once saw him show a sign that this hurt him.
Oh, how wrong he had been.
Around now was the time that Reggie began learning and understanding the more torrid human emotions, and their impact- When he had gone to school, when he had walked the alleyways, cutting through them in hopes that he wouldn't get mugged, when he got home, he saw only what seemed to be the worst of human nature. Simultaneously, he saw the worst and best of it, though whenever he saw kindness spared in the city of black, it never ended well for the person giving it- A future mugging, an insult, to be shoved away and cast aside, as if the city had no room for their generosity with the maelstrom of greed that had seized everyone in this pit, not without squeezing them dry of every last bit. You couldn't get anywhere in this city without stepping on anyone and everyone else, it looked like. Around now was the time he met his band of friends- The toughest of the tough, or Reggie'd like to think so. It wasn't safe to be alone in this city, each one of this band of misfits knew, finding their safety in numbers. They had to be tough individually, though, otherwise this same city would eat you alive- They made it a point to show that they were all tough, and that they were the coolest, the best at everything. They had to be infallible, and if they had to step on other people, then that was just the way it had to be. Marlon, Cash, Brandon, Damon, and Montblanc- There were six of them. Marlon and Cash were born right there in Unova, in the Black City, whilst Brandon and Damon had moved in later from Jubilife City, and Montblanc was from Kalos. From which city, none of them really knew, but nobody really asked, they just pretended they did.
His most vivid recollection of working with his father was a late night; they had been working particularly hard that day, he recalls- Reggie had needed glasses, and while it had been hard enough on the family to pay for the glasses alone, they learned swiftly that the glasses made Reggie a target through the message sent by them. He came home with them snapped in half, forcing them to get contacts so he didn't stick out. He looked up from the engine, both of them with black stains smudged their faces and arms, though Reggie looked up to see his father crying- He was fifteen at the time. The rest of the night was spent listening to his father's woes- What had been his hopes for Reggie, for the family, for himself, he recounted staggering amounts of hopes and dreams that would never be met, that when they started at this point all those years ago, he had never so much as considered that they would still be in the same place by the time he was almost a man, and his parents had begun getting on in years, their prime gone. He described to Reggie how much it was he had loved his mother- Once upon a time they were a newly-wed couple, looking forward to the future they had together, how they thought they had known what they were doing, they had been so sure. Reggie could say nothing, listening to the emotional turmoil his father had kept restrained that was now pouring out in a massive wave. He just kept working on the engine- He wasn't even sure if he was actually listening, because his father started to become background noise, just like the rumbles and whirs of the machines they surrounded themselves with.
Not long after, maybe a few months later, Reggie's mother passed from liver failure in the same back-alley clinic he was born in. Reggie had never been close to the woman- While it scared him that he didn't feel anything for the loss, he, more than anything, was worried about his father. Reggie was sixteen. His father, in turn, took up the habit of drinking- Reggie was left to work alone, and while he was more than capable of handling the jobs, he no longer had his father, it felt. The garage was always silent bar the roars of engines and the clashing of metal. It was in this almost meditative silence that Reggie managed to keep himself together for the most part. Whilst his father fell apart, Reggie hardened up against the world further, taking solace in the trances he entered while in the garage, only occasionally enlisting help from his friends- And they had functioned much the same. Nobody spoke except when absolutely necessary, and sometimes, not even then. When he hit seventeen, his father was perpetually inebriated. Things hadn't escalated to violence just yet, no physical abuse, but everyday his father simply told him to give up what he was doing, that Reggie wouldn't get out of how he was living. This continued for two years.
That wasn't the end of fond memories, though- Now that they were older, Reggie's gang could do so many more things. Reggie even had money set aside for himself- He resolved once while working that if his father did not work, he wouldn't be getting any money. Not that this stopped his father from embezzling from Reggie's funds to buy more hooch. But Reggie and his friends found solace in the company of each other- While none of them spoke a word of who they really were, never spoke their emotions, they took solace in the company and the fact they were mostly safe together, that they had each other's backs. Sure, they bullied other people and did what they pleased, but that was just how things were in the city. If you showed you were soft, you'd get stepped on, made fun of, and it was nobody's fault but your own. Them's the breaks.
The next two years came and went; Reggie saved money. He horded it- He wasn't hording it for a love of money like so many others in the city, or just to have it. No, he was saving to leave. Though, the painful realization Reggie had to reconcile with was that he wouldn't be able to take his father. He resolved to leave him- If his father was set on never climbing out of the grave he dug himself, then Reggie wanted no part in it. As it was, he had had much more than enough of the city- The black felt like it clung to him, like it colored his jacket, it stuck his clothes and him, like it followed and trailed him. Everytime he came home, it was like he had to take an hour-long shower just to feel clean again. Not that he could afford such a luxury, of course- And yet, he felt that if he did indulge that need, he still wouldn't feel cleansed of it by the end. After so long living in Black City, the city came to reside within him, as well. There was no escaping it's influence, it was practically in his blood, always at his heels, some filth burned into his very being.
On a particularly quiet day, however, two years later when he turned nineteen, Reggie felt an off-beat rhythm to an engine- The engine, he was told, was unique in what was used to power it, he was told. Not a combustion engine, apparently, but one that relied on electricity. He had a feeling it ran on something he found a bit disagreeable when the client left a Pixelball behind, set right upon the counter. Looking back to the mystery machine, Reggie looked uneasily to the engine once more. He didn't know much about Pixelmon, living in Black City's less-than-reputable areas, barely having seen any. More importantly, he wondered why of all places, such a unique engine came to be in his care- No doubt there were more well-known garages than his own? There wasn't much time to finish that thought, though, as he heard the sound of a metal screech and a subsequent tearing of metal, part of the engine abruptly launching up and embedding itself in the ceiling. Staggering back and falling down, Reggie would watch the enraged Klink launch multiple engine parts flying, dust shooting up as engine parts embedded themselves in walls. Diving for the Pixelball, he seized it up and threw it at the Klink, which was promptly bathed in light and returned to the ball. Blinking at the sudden carnage, Reggie stood up slowly, approaching the ball warily. He picked it up, looking around and then back to the engine- The engine. Reggie did the first thing that came to mind, going home with the Pixelball in hand, abandoning the garage. Finding his father unconscious with a bottle of whiskey beside him, he tread softly into his room, recovering his finances and abandoning home. Not like he could come back- If anything, this was likely planned. Reggie figured that he'd take the blame for vandalizing someone else's property with the Klink in his possession, and that he'd have to pay for the damage caused. He wasn't about to have that, even if it meant leaving everyone else- He worked too hard to be set back another two years. Popular scam for someone else, somewhere, really.
That night, Reggie left Black City after walking around in the night saying his good-byes to Brandon, Cash, Damon, Marlon, and Montblanc. Meeting with his few friends for the last time, there was an implicit understanding of where he was going, why he was leaving the city. No words were really exchanged besides "Good bye" and "Au revoir.", and they all took the time to engrave their first initials on his switchcomb- B. C. D. M. M. R.
Hitch-hiking his way all the way to the coastal New Tork City, it took a bit for Reggie to get used to the glitz and glam of this city in particular, especially with it's size and general business, as well as a few mishaps while trying to reconcile with the Klink, though he did manage- Granted, Klink is a bit of a wildcard. While he felt he could've gotten accustomed to it, Reggie felt the need to leave Unova, which was too full of memories, too full of lights, and the skies were too black, the lights above drowned out by the ones that men had made for themselves. Wanting to start anew, as well as seeing some poetic justice in heading to the newest region, Reggie boarded a boat bound for Toro with Klink and nothing else but the clothes on his back, a dufflebag, and a tough front. He's doubtful the people are much different anywhere else- But the breathtaking vista of the innumerable stars above as the boat set for the strange, new region, gave him some hope. This was the first time he had seen stars, after all.
Personality
Strengths:
- Reggie is pretty keen to spot a liar- At least, it's easy to say that when you generally assume most people to be lying.
- While lacking in a formal education, Reggie's academic gifts were due to his ability to pick things up quickly, always having been a swift learner.
- He's always been tough, both mentally, and physically. It's hard to survive on the streets without good nerves and thick skin.
- Reggie insists the R in his name stands for resourceful- Which is, to some extent, true. He's talented at improvising and making due with less than what most others would have, and if he ever actually spoke about it, would also insist his cooking is great.
- You will find nobody else more knowledgeable on pomade brands.
- You'd be hard pressed to find someone as good with hair as Reggie. He does his own, and the years've taught him how to survive and look good doing it.
- One could say he's somewhat attractive. So, he thinks he's got that going for him.
- Reggie is a very talented liar. He doesn't like it, and he's not proud, but it comes in handy.
- An odd talent, Reggie was the best at driving out of his whole group, as the vehicles he worked with were his entire life.
- He's quick on his feet, from countless encounters in dark alleyways with hobos that would love nothing more than to take his jacket, and his money.
- Beyond just repairing cars, Reggie did serve as the general handyman in their neglected apartment, and his hands have seen a lot of work. Good thing he wore gloves.
Weaknesses:
- Reggie finds it exceedingly difficult to trust anyone that isn't himself. Being his friend takes a series of coincidence and good character.
- He's not exactly the world's greatest trainer. Raised in a city, he actually grew much more isolated from Pixelmon than most people, only having recently met Klink, and lacks the ability to adequately command his Pixelmon.
- Reggie has a soft spot for outcasts and injured Pixelmon. It'd be difficult for him to choose the option not in favor of helping them.
- Reggie isn't exactly huge. While he's muscular and toned, his build favors speed and endurance over raw strength.
- He's not charismatic in any sense, not on purpose, at least. The whole point of his facade is, after all, to turn people away.
- He's quick to get defensive and angry when challenged, primarily out of habit from his time in Black City.
- Reggie has a severe lack of a formal education. While practically a savant in terms of machinery and the science behind them, he isn't very knowledgeable about the world, nor is he the strongest reader, as he never got much chance to look at anything more complex than a manual. He tries, though.
Alignment: Cool Neutral.
Ambitions: His hopes lay primarily in opening his own garage, starting fresh. While he'd never admit it, either, he'd hope to find a little personal redemption in his own eyes. A sappy romance novel would have him find that in someone else, but he thinks that he'd be better off benefiting people around the world, rather than himself.
More importantly, though, Reggie wants to fly, and meet the stars above. Crazy dream, but there's been crazier, right?
