Metro, Scientist

[metro]

[atrb=border,0,btable][atrb=width,414,btable][cs=2] NOX: Davis Reynolds "here goes fuckin' nothing" -Niederactus
[cs=2] [style=text-align: center; font-family: open sans condensed; font-size: 16px; border-bottom: solid 2px #222222; margin-bottom: 4px; text-transform: center;]FULL NAME Davis Lawrence Reynolds, known mostly by his nickname 'Metro', though he is sometimes called Dave by close friends and relatives. BACKGROUND 36 years ago, in a quaint little apartment room within the confines of Rustboro, a man and a woman had perfectly normal, consensual, heterosexual sex. Nine months later, on the night of December 16th, a child, Davis, was born. As a young boy, Davis was....special. He'd spend hours playing with train sets and reading train books. When not that, he'd spend his time mumbling to himself, probably about trains and train-related paraphenelia. Growing up, he had a mother and a father who worked long and hard to provide for him, and he appreciated it in his own little ways. An only child, he craved younger siblings, but his parents decided that they were too out of sorts, financially, for that to be a good decision. Though imagine his pleasure and surprise when, huzzah, his mom told young Davis, with a big smile and a big belly, that he would be seeing a baby sister soon! He prepared, plotted, planned for all of the fun things he'd teach and tell her! The braking mechanism for trains, mommy's powdered sugar under the bed, all sorts of fun and exciting things! He was left with his neighbor, a nice old man who babysat on occasion, while his mom and dad left to go visit Davis' grandmother. They were gonna drive there, of course. Too bad Hoenn had a disturbing lack of trains. But soon after, the kind old man looked miserable, and soon sat down Davis, while crying, and talked about a bunch of things that he didn't understand. Something about an 'accident' and a 'drunk driver', that there were 'no survivors'. Something weird, the old man was really weird. Shortly after that, poor Davis was pulled into a car with some weird men, who dropped him off at his grandmother's house. It was really weird, didn't mom and dad go to visit grandma? Where did they go? Who'd take care of the house in Rustboro? It was all a bit much, definitely. Nevertheless, Davis waited on the doorstep every day, waiting for mommy and daddy to come pick him up. -- As Davis grew up, he was a bit....unadjusted to dealing with others. They were all such boring imbeciles. Plus they talked shit about Davis' trains, and they called him 'Metro' for some ungodly reason. Kinda obvious why he chose to hang out in the back of the class. Oh, also, it wasn't really his choice. If it were up to him, he'd be out and about on his own journey instead of milling around in classes. His grandmother forced him into it, the old crone. Something about 'not putting you through what your father went through'. As a result, he just persevered. Every day, he would wait on the doorstep, wondering when his mother and father and baby sister were coming to get him. As he continued through classes, bored out of his mind in an institution he had no intent on attending, two subjects captivated his wandering mind: psychology, and its sister, sociology. The study of the mind was facinating. The delicate intricacies, the perfect chemistry, the complex structure....oh dear, it was wonderful. Even more interesting, the functioning of the brain when not firing on all cylinders. Schizophrenia, personality disorders, anxiety and mood disorders....just wonderous how the human brain can simply not work. He spent a lot of time pondering and labeling on that doorstep. His grandmother was ecstatic. Psychiatrists and therapists and whatnot made oodles of money, and her grandson was finally paying attention in class? As soon as the option reared its head, Davis left for college studies, paid off by his grandmother. Of course, the years passed, and Davis easily breezed through...some areas. Sure, anything about mental disorders and some forms of remedies he could ace, but try to ask him about therapy? An eating disorder? Substance abuse? Ugh, that's dumb and boring. After failing out those classes, his grandmother was, in short, fucking furious. He wasted unbelievable amounts of time and money on subjects that he thought were interesting, not ones that were important or financially secure. Of course, by then, Davis was a big boy, he simply ignored her and attempted to get into the job force. Gotta get the home with the big front yard, the trophy wife, and the two kids after all! Guess not. The only jobs he got were ones he hated, and even then, fired from every one of them. All of the abnormal psychological professions? Of course not, those require degrees, the people were all just filthy elitist prudes, it made Davis sick. But what was he to do? I mean, he was broke, had no positive relationships with anybody, and had half an education in any viable field. That's when the letter came. Turns out his parents had sent him their life savings! I mean, they let the bank and such hold onto a modest sum for years, then sent it to him! They really did care! Though, what then? What could he do with this sum of money? Before, he was a broke loser with half an education and weird interests. Now? A loser with half an education and weird interests. I mean, what to do? Can't become a psychologist in a developed region, he'd get laughed at with his meager knowledge, no matter how much he actually did know within those categories. The answer laid between the words. Can't go to a developed region? Go to an undeveloped one! He had the funds to have a plane or boat take him, plus he could encourage locals to help him...but where? What place was an utter shitheap with a nonexistent legal system? Orre. Armed with nothing more than a suitcase filled with clothes and money; another with an 'assistant', an Alakazam; he departed. Left off of the face of Hoenn. He did leave a note for his parents, though. On the doorstep. Years passed, evil operations sprung up and got shot down, drama occured, and one particular issue sprung up. Freedom vs. Equality. Nox vs. Lux. A few years after this sort of thing occured, a former citizen of Hoenn reappeared on the radar. A man in a labcoat, straight from an area in middle Orre, packing nothing but a suitcase with some clothes and supplies, decided that it was time to return to the wartorn homeland. This man visited a long-abandoned house and wrote a note, then left it. Left it on the doorstep. OCCUPATION Scientist. In his mind, anyway. ALLEGIANCE Nox. Freedom trumps equality in almost any case. TRAITS [/style]
[atrb=valign,top][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,207] POSITIVE TRAITS: ▪ friendly to an extent; he's not going to dislike you unless you have a reason to be disliked ▪ somewhat trusting ▪ intelligent in his own areas; he can tell you the intricacies of the brain and how it functions, and how it can go so wrong ▪ has mad survival skills from living in the desert shithole aka Orre for years ▪ takes precaution as much as he can when doing things; some things can be nothing less than perfection	[atrb=valign,top][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,207] NEGATIVE TRAITS: ▪ twitchy and nervous ▪ somewhat cowardly ▪ has an increasing resentment against morals and ethics, along with other things that prevent him from doing his work ▪ while trusting, he does have some issues with paranoia ▪ flies into rages when certain things do not go his way ▪ has four levels of being mad/upset: sadness and withdrawal, passive-aggressiveness, twitchy anger, and full-blown rage
[atrb=valign,top][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,207] LIKES: ▪ brains, brain chemistry, and brain disorders ▪ old-school therapies and 'fixes' regarding such disorders ▪ experimentation ▪ TRAINS ▪ discordant, gloomy, and just generally depressing instrumental music ▪ fruit juice, there was never enough in the desert	[atrb=valign,top][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,207] DISLIKES: ▪ some types of ethics and morals, mainly the ones that do not allow him to pursue his interests ▪ Ghost types ▪ overly loud music ▪ being regarded as 'crazy', 'nutty', 'off', etc. Being called weird, though, is fine ▪ people who have more 'credentials' than he does acting in negative ways concerning it; ie discounting poor Davis' opinions and thoughts simply because he doesn't have such credentials
[cs=2] SECRETS:

▪ subconciously knows his parents are dead, but refuses to believe it out of a child-like optimism
▪ doesn't see Lux too bad...as a concept. They really need to wind the fuck down.
▪ depressed as a motherfucker, due to life and such slowly catching up on him and him realizing that, hey, he's pretty much useless in the whole scheme of things
▪ aspires to actually become something NOT useless in the whole scheme of things
▪ wants to at least meet somebody similar to him that he can have a positive relationship with
▪ afraid of children[/div][/td][/tr]

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POKEMON

[classy=mons][classy=moves]Tac
Moves:
NASTY PLOT
TRI ATTACK
TRICK ROOM
CONVERSION 2[/classy][/classy][classy=mons][classy=moves]Alabaster
Moves:
PSYCHIC
RECOVER
TELEPORT
REFLECT[/classy][/classy][classy=mons][classy=moves]Charlin
Moves:
STOCKPILE
SWALLOW
YAWN
SLUDGE BOMB[/classy][/classy][classy=mons][classy=moves]Sheer
Moves:
ACROBATICS
ROCK SLIDE
U-TURN
DRAGON CLAW[/classy][/classy][style=text-align: center;font-family: open sans condensed; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 4px; text-transform: center; border-bottom: 2px #222222 solid;]WHO ELSE DO YOU PLAY?

as of now, nobody

[b]GINTAMA[/b], face-claim as KONISHI KOUHEI made by NIED for PRE.

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