|Item||Violin in case|
|Age||Insert approximate age here|
|Species||#203/ Girafarig, the Long Neck Pokemon|
|Pokédex Entry||Girafarig's rear head contains a tiny brain that is too small for thinking. However, the rear head doesn't need to sleep, so it can keep watch over its surroundings 24 hours a day.|
|Characteristic||Likes to eat|
|History||Milo did not have much of a life in the wild. He doesn't remember anything before a cold, terrible night, angry storms booming above him. He was young and very alone, and so frightened. He ventured near the Lake of Rage for water, where Gyarados loomed out of the water and tried to feast on him many times, making him recede back into the protective forest. However, as he withdrew once more, his ears picked up a different sound, something other than the roars of the pokemon and the sky. A delicate tune floated in the air, like a sweet ghost, calling to him. He followed the sound to a small cabin and, using his long neck, peeked inside.|
There, an old man, content by the fire, played an instrument, what Milo would soon learn as a violin. The music was enthralling, captivating, hypnotizing. It wasn't long before the man stopped playing and turned to see the girafarig staring at him through the open window. Milo first attempted to hide, but the man only chuckled. "You must be hungry, dear boy," he muttered as he opened the door to the young pokemon. Gladly, Milo ran inside and began a life he would have never dreamed of.
The man himself was a violin player and crafter. The instruments of his own making lined the walls in a beautiful array of wood and string. For a few years, Milo's only purpose in life was to help the old man in making beautiful instruments of music. It was the happiest time of his life.
However, it didn't take long for the old man to fall ill. When he felt he was on his death bed, he called upon his only other family, his grandson, to keep his trade, music, and Milo alive. While the grandson had no intention of selling or playing violins, he took Milo, ready to train a new teammate. Before he passed, the old man bequeathed his most cherished violin to Milo, so that he would never forget music in such a dark world.
It wasn't long after that that the Infected filtered into Johto. While he managed to get stronger because of the grandson, the small, meager team was no match for the swarms. The Dead ravaged and killed them in minutes, and Milo, the quickest out of the team, was the only survivor. Distraught, he roamed his home region until a strange power teleported him into a strange land.
|Appearance||Milo carries with him the only material item that has any meaning; the violin his original owner bequeathed him. Otherwise, he is a very normal-looking girafarig, even if the tail sometimes looks at others and Milo himself with a strange, knowing expression.|
|Personality||Milo very much considers himself an artist rather than a fighter. This is not a view filled with animosity; it's simply the truth. With the time he spent training, even though he got considerably stronger, he knew he was nothing like the pokemon he trained with, and wanted to rather sit back and let the others fight so to not make a fool of himself. Because of this exclusion, he has not developed very good social skills, even if he simply wants to be accepted. He views his music, as much as he loves it, as a weakness, since it has no place in the battlefield.|
|User Notes|| -Loves music|
-The violin is still in the case, and occasionally, he will open the case to look at it.
-He can play using his psychic powers
-Not a very outgoing guy; tends to shy around girls
-Strange power was Mewtwo's thing
Last edited by Silverishness on Sun Jun 03, 2012 12:40 pm; edited 3 times in total