Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2020 0:19:32 GMT -5
KENZO YI RAIKUSA
Male | Thirty-Four | Pansexual | Rancher | Yasuo (High Noon), League of Legends
Male | Thirty-Four | Pansexual | Rancher | Yasuo (High Noon), League of Legends
Description: Kenzo cuts a rough picture at first glance, he's rugged, and not quite what most seem to expect when someone introduces themselves as an "aspiring trainer on a pokemon adventure." Certainly, his naturally bronzed skin is tanned, and rough, weathered by years of being outdoors and labor, and bearing its fair share of scars and scratches, from the pink one that crosses the bridge of his nose to the burn that licks his left arm, to the slashes long healed on his abdomen. He's aged well, but he's also clearly no young sapling either, standing several inches over the average man with a lean but well-muscled form that's seen plenty of down and dirty physical labor, and is more than just kept in shape. In fact its quite easy to see he takes good care of himself, both in terms of health and of physicality, and he moves and holds himself with a sort of subconscious confidence and ease, marred only by the slightest hitch in his step on one side, controlled in the sense that he seems to be aware of every motion and part of himself, yet still relaxed and casual, free of hesitation, doubt, or the awkwardness that lingers sometimes about others.
This manner shows in more than just Kenzo's posture and form though, carrying to his features quite clearly. Long and silken dark brown hair is well brushed and pulled into a high ponytail, with only a rough and short bit of stubble along his sharp and squared jawline, brushing across his chin and tracing around his lips. Warm caramel eyes are matched by angular and sharp brows, and there seems to always be a slight quirk to the edge of his thin lips, twisting ever so slightly upward on one side. His expressions are almost always playful, laughing, and he's almost never without a sly smile or slight smirk, unphased by much of anything.
In clothing to there is a sort of self-assurance and easy-ness to Kenzo. Taking to a rough and simple style, he is almost never without a battered brown cowboy hat and dusty red poncho, with chapped leather over the rough fabric of his pants and broken-in leather gloves and boots donning his limbs. Most of his shirts are an off-white or dusty red and brown, and nearly half of them have torn sleeves on one or other side, whether purposeful, turning long-sleeves short or removing them entirely to better suit the summer days, or simply an effect of wear and tear not being worth mending. In colder climates, or where his more rough out-door look is inappropriate he has a few things hidden away, hoodies, jackets, scarves and turtlenecks mostly, in slightly better condition but sometimes still fettered will small holes and patches, worn through use and the nibbling of Venomoth. Certainly very little of what he wears is new, yet he has a sort of pride in that, he's rarely dirty per say, just always seemingly dusty, as though fresh from the road, and what he shares in wear and tear, he makes up for in the care he takes after things, mending and patches showing a quiet dedication to make the most of what he has and let nothing go to waste. The only thing polished on him at all is the small silver ring of a Dragonair twining around a ring finger, a small sapphire glittering as its eye where it bites it's own tail to form a loop.
Personality: To some, Kenzo can be a bit off-putting at first impression. He's not a small figure, and carries himself with a confidence and easy strength that, with a person built like his, leads others to sometimes be wary. Yet it's often hard to stay that way long once one spends time around him. Perhaps its that self-same confidence, a sort of calm and peaceful aura that radiates from him. He knows exactly what he's capable of, exactly what he wants, and exactly what his limitations are, and that sort of knowledge of one's person and one's goals tends to lend one a clarity and peace of mind that is infectious. Very little shakes him, and he tackles both his problems and his desires with a simple and direct approach, bearing little care to fretting or worrying over details and what-ifs.
Patient and honest, it's easy to call Kenzo a simple man. He works hard for what he wants, pursues his passions with a single-minded determination, and doesn't worry too much about getting more than what he set out for. He doesn't lack ambition, but hubris and greed seem to leave him untouched, perhaps gone with his more youthful days, and he sets his goals up one step at a time. There is also a certain directness to the way Kenzo interacts with others, he's warm, and friendly, a quiet soul who loves to listen to and share the company of others and offers his thoughts and opinions openly and honestly, as clear as water.
And perhaps Kenzo isn't all that learned in books and classes. He comes from simpler places, and in some ways, he's come to learn he doesn't need to have booksmarts to be intelligent. He knows how to work with his hands, and with his heart, and is willing to learn or do what it takes to get where he wants to go. He's dedicated and unafraid to get himself a little dirty or put in tireless hours and hard work to get results. A strong-will power, firm hand, and gentle voice have served him well as he's matured and learned to slow down a bit and take things at a steady pace, and he's quite good at what he does, even if it's not something most in the more modern world of today care for.
In the end, Kenzo doesn't really care about what others care for though. He's lived his life for others, and now he's living it for himself. That's not to say he doesn't care about others, he's compassionate, especially for children or those who have had their fair share or more of hardship, and he is always happy to help those looking for themselves still, a bit of a parental, or perhaps mentorly, instinct in him. But he's stopped being bothered, by and large, about what others think about him, and lets things be as they will. Life's too short these days for worrying about what others what you to be after all.
This manner shows in more than just Kenzo's posture and form though, carrying to his features quite clearly. Long and silken dark brown hair is well brushed and pulled into a high ponytail, with only a rough and short bit of stubble along his sharp and squared jawline, brushing across his chin and tracing around his lips. Warm caramel eyes are matched by angular and sharp brows, and there seems to always be a slight quirk to the edge of his thin lips, twisting ever so slightly upward on one side. His expressions are almost always playful, laughing, and he's almost never without a sly smile or slight smirk, unphased by much of anything.
In clothing to there is a sort of self-assurance and easy-ness to Kenzo. Taking to a rough and simple style, he is almost never without a battered brown cowboy hat and dusty red poncho, with chapped leather over the rough fabric of his pants and broken-in leather gloves and boots donning his limbs. Most of his shirts are an off-white or dusty red and brown, and nearly half of them have torn sleeves on one or other side, whether purposeful, turning long-sleeves short or removing them entirely to better suit the summer days, or simply an effect of wear and tear not being worth mending. In colder climates, or where his more rough out-door look is inappropriate he has a few things hidden away, hoodies, jackets, scarves and turtlenecks mostly, in slightly better condition but sometimes still fettered will small holes and patches, worn through use and the nibbling of Venomoth. Certainly very little of what he wears is new, yet he has a sort of pride in that, he's rarely dirty per say, just always seemingly dusty, as though fresh from the road, and what he shares in wear and tear, he makes up for in the care he takes after things, mending and patches showing a quiet dedication to make the most of what he has and let nothing go to waste. The only thing polished on him at all is the small silver ring of a Dragonair twining around a ring finger, a small sapphire glittering as its eye where it bites it's own tail to form a loop.
Personality: To some, Kenzo can be a bit off-putting at first impression. He's not a small figure, and carries himself with a confidence and easy strength that, with a person built like his, leads others to sometimes be wary. Yet it's often hard to stay that way long once one spends time around him. Perhaps its that self-same confidence, a sort of calm and peaceful aura that radiates from him. He knows exactly what he's capable of, exactly what he wants, and exactly what his limitations are, and that sort of knowledge of one's person and one's goals tends to lend one a clarity and peace of mind that is infectious. Very little shakes him, and he tackles both his problems and his desires with a simple and direct approach, bearing little care to fretting or worrying over details and what-ifs.
Patient and honest, it's easy to call Kenzo a simple man. He works hard for what he wants, pursues his passions with a single-minded determination, and doesn't worry too much about getting more than what he set out for. He doesn't lack ambition, but hubris and greed seem to leave him untouched, perhaps gone with his more youthful days, and he sets his goals up one step at a time. There is also a certain directness to the way Kenzo interacts with others, he's warm, and friendly, a quiet soul who loves to listen to and share the company of others and offers his thoughts and opinions openly and honestly, as clear as water.
And perhaps Kenzo isn't all that learned in books and classes. He comes from simpler places, and in some ways, he's come to learn he doesn't need to have booksmarts to be intelligent. He knows how to work with his hands, and with his heart, and is willing to learn or do what it takes to get where he wants to go. He's dedicated and unafraid to get himself a little dirty or put in tireless hours and hard work to get results. A strong-will power, firm hand, and gentle voice have served him well as he's matured and learned to slow down a bit and take things at a steady pace, and he's quite good at what he does, even if it's not something most in the more modern world of today care for.
In the end, Kenzo doesn't really care about what others care for though. He's lived his life for others, and now he's living it for himself. That's not to say he doesn't care about others, he's compassionate, especially for children or those who have had their fair share or more of hardship, and he is always happy to help those looking for themselves still, a bit of a parental, or perhaps mentorly, instinct in him. But he's stopped being bothered, by and large, about what others think about him, and lets things be as they will. Life's too short these days for worrying about what others what you to be after all.
History: Kenzo grew up simple, and in his opinion, he grew up right. Some say the days of ranching and farming are long over, but Kenzo's parents were proud of what they did, and while perhaps the cities got bigger and bigger every day, and the technology got better and better, there was still a place, and more importantly, a need for the sort of work they did. And while he would never know the luxury of a modern life, his most treasured possesion for quite some time being a bulky walkman he would carry with him nearly everywhere, the life on a farm was quite enjoyable for a young boy in a large family. He spent his days wrestling and chasing siblings and friends through fields and the nearby forest, and when he was old enough to handle work of his own, he learned how to tend to the pokemon, caring for herds of mareep and miltank, and feeding the rapidash and mudbray of his father's stables.
Oh Kenzo had his share of boyish trouble making. So often he shirked mucking out the stables and forking the hay, and oh how he and one of his sisters were fond of spooking and chasing around the ducklett and swanna just to see them panic and explode into squawking piles of feathers. Bruised arms and a bloody nose taught him that despite their appearances, swanna were far from gentle when they wanted to be, but the little jingle of a glameow's collar, taken in by his sister after one of the herdier on their land chased it from the torchic house and into a tree, was a fond memory, and while he was far from a perfect child, he was a good one. He tried to be at least, and Kenzo was taught early that family and hard work were the most important things in life.
Perhaps Kenzo missed a lot of the good things other kids did. Home schooling was necessary to make sure he and his siblings were on hand for the tilling, planting, caring, and harvesting of the plants, and there was many a day when a young teenage Kenzo would have to wake at the first light just to milk and water the farm pokemon. It wasn't a glamorous life, sure, and while he didn't lack for friendship and family, he didn't have much in luxury. They were well off, and their ranch did well, but a large family still meant there was little to go around after the expenses of the land, the pokemon, and dinner was taken care of. His toys were simple and mostly wooden, and his clothes were often handed down from an older brother. He visited the big cities, Nimbasa and Castelia, once or twice, but spent much of his time in the quiet and warm summer woods of White Forest.
Certainly Kenzo never got a change to explore, or to find a different life style. The idea of pokemon adventures, or studying to become a doctor, a lawyer, a banker, never even came up. Sure he pursued some passions and hobbies, long hours spent watching the herd or tending bruises from an onry ponyta left him time to try his hand at art and music, and he quite enjoyed spending hours sketching the land and the pokemon around him, or finding tunes for the flute to play to himself on the cool autumn nights. But he always was destined to follow in his parents footsteps, and the option of leaving just... never came up.
Sure, an older brother married and moved to Opelucid to help his wife in her restuarant. An older sister, rebellious and wild, took to the routes with the wind in her hair, striking off on her own and not taking no for an answer. Friends applied to schools and left. But several others stayed, and with nothing to call him, to push him onward, Kenzo stayed as well. After all, he enjoyed his life as it was, and growing to be a young man, he was eager to please his parents and eager to continue their work.
Perhaps it was young love that would lead Kenzo astray. He hadn't been from White Forest. He was a city boy, who enjoyed a life buried in books and quiet nights. He came to White Forest to see the stars he told Kenzo, and to enjoy nature away from all the noise of the cities. In some ways he was soft, a far stretch from the hard and dirty life Kenzo knew. In some ways though, he was mysterious and wonderful, telling stories and sharing tales. He was in love with history, with mythology, and with the world. He could go on for hours about pokemon, or about old legends, and Kenzo could listen to him for hours. And he loved to listen to Kenzo play the flute, to page through Kenzo's sketchbook, fingers drifting slowly over the smudged graphite lines, to nestle himself by a tree and watch Kenzo ride and train the dodrio.
Maybe Kenzo was just slow to realize it. Maybe he was just uncertain, nervous and new to that side of himself. But it wasn't until they shared a soft kiss, watching the stars on a clear spring night, where the lights of the city were distant and the sky was clean and clear, that he realized what it was. He was an uncertain lover, his confidence and bravado on the farm turned to blushing and awkwardness in romance, but he was nothing if not earnest and good. Some of his family weren't sure what to make of it, frowning and disapproving but unwilling to try to force the issue. Some were proud, or teasing, all too quick to whisper in his lovers ear and send both to laughter at his own sake.
But the silver twisting ring of twining metal Kenzo presented his lover, and the silver dratini, a sapphire gem embedded as its eye, was his sign of dedication, and his care. Perhaps he was not as good at ranching and farming, perhaps he was just a scholar, and could offer Kenzo little in the way of furthering his lifestyle. But he gave Kenzo happiness, and that was really all Kenzo wanted, and he would give everything for that. Kenzo lived simple and hard, but he lived loyally and honestly, and he understood that about Kenzo.
And he found his place in Kenzo's lifestyle too, helping where he could, and offering company and warmth at the end of a long day where he wasn't quite cut out for it. Kenzo remembers most fondly a night spent in the barn, nursing an egg through a difficult hatching while a nervous zebstrika circled around them. While gently padding a towel over the baby blitzle, he had asked to name it, softly drying it's ears and flanks for several long minutes while Kenzo stroked the mother's mane. Raijin is what he had said at last, smiling softly as he explained it was based on the name of a god of lightning and storms in another country.
Kenzo also remembers the night one of the Rapidash went wild. It had been acting strange, twitchy and uneasy for days now, and barely eating. He's not sure if it was ill, or if it had been a predator, people had been whispering about a Zoroark in the woods lately but Kenzo had yet to find any traces of the pokemon. The Rapidash went on a rampage though, screaming in the middle of the night. He'd always taken care to make sure the stables for the wily and swift fire types was well suited to not be a hazard, but when the pokemon broke free of it's stall and crashed through the building, the flames spread only far too quickly. Kenzo had been quick to wake and spring into action, and his lover, sleepy and terrified by the sudden noise and disaster in the night had followed. It was the scared bleating of Raijin, still unsteady on their legs, that had driven him to the back of the barn. Kenzo had been only a step behind him, working quickly to get all the pokemon out but unwilling to leave his lover to get help to put out the fire. They were just a couple paces away.
Maybe thats what saved Kenzo's life. Maybe if he had been closer he could have saved his lover. The roof collapsed on one side, sliding down and crumbling.
Kenzo was told, in the hospital bed he woke in, that he had been lucky. The fire had mostly been put out by the building partially falling, and that several of the Mudbray and Mudsdale had instinctively attacked what remained with ground type moves. He had escaped the fire itself mostly, only an arm suffering any actual burning, but he had been hit by some of the roof, suffering a bad concussion and a few broken bones. The bones healed quickly enough. His heart, and his spirit, took a lot longer. They said it was probably an injury in his head that caused his sudden loss of speech. A heavy heart wondered if it wasn't an injury of another kind that left him unable to find his voice, his laugh, his words, anymore. He could play the flute still, and after he healed, he found his hands decent enough with a pencil still, but he couldn't sing those old tunes he used to for him, humming those quiet melodies or laughing to those jokes they shared.
A part of Kenzo was gone. And with it, much of his life followed. He lost many pokemon, and would leave the farm to his siblings, setting aside all his work and duty that he used to care for so diligently. For a while, Kenzo was lost. It was a sister who helped him find himself again, one of the ones still working the ranch. She asked him to visit, to come back from his aimless wandering of the region. When he did, he was greeted by little Raijin, the blitzle missing a leg and much of his tail, but healthy again, and trotting about the house. The pokemon would never run the way their kin did, but Raijin still gleamed and sparked with energy and excitement when they saw Kenzo, nuzzling a snout into his hand with familiarity.
Kenzo remembers as well the joy on his sisters face when he smiled again. When he informed her he was traveling to Ascua, she understood immediately. He hadn't been from White Forest, that scholarly young man who'd sat gazing at the stars on those warm Unovan nights. It was time Kenzo left the ranch, left the farm, and left Unova, and to find his own place in life for a bit. He wanted to explore, see those sights and read those stories that he had been told about so fondly and with such reverence and nostalgia both. Perhaps it seemed a little silly, waiting so long to leave, and wanting to start over from scratch just to make a Ranch of his own hands, but he knew that life best, and he knew, in part, that what he needed was a fresh start. A rebirth, to take things at a different approach, far from what he knew and among new lands and new faces. Life had been too short, and only in knowing this could one appreciate what they were missing with just contentment instead of curiosity.
Goals & Mod Permissions: Kenzo's goal is partially undefined. He had an intention simply to go to Ascua, and to go start his own Ranch there. What that means, in the long run, doesn't really concern him so much as the process, and whether he ends up successful or only having a handful of pokemon isn't really all that important. He's been a rancher before, he's grown and lost, and now he's trying to step back, slow down, and appreciate the littler things more and worry less about what benefits his finances or family, and make connections instead of remaining so close to himself. The process is all that really matters, and in truth, the only reason he's chosen this more familiar lifestyle over the alternatives is just a lack of experience or interest in Co-Ordination or Competitive Training, but a love of pokemon too strong to not work with them day to day and an inclination for labor and the simple rough work out doors to feel at home in more modern landscapes and jobs. In part though, his goal is to travel, and to experience Ascua in full. He doesn't want to see just one place, to settle down just on Gaia without adventuring, he wants to travel the entire breadth of it, and partake in all the region has to offer. His lack of interest in the Contests and the Gym Challenges has little to do with a lack of fervor for wandering. It's less a bucket list, all bullet-pointed out with things he wants to do, and more just a thought, an idea and direction, and he aims to go to whatever places he can find, and do whatever interesting activities or events happen across him, rather than seek something distant or final. He wants to live in the moment, and live for the moment, as fully as he can, making connections and existing not just for himself and the next day.
Mods are free to utilize anyone they wish in Kenzo's backstory as NPCs, both from previous Pokemon to Family, Childhood Friends, Acquaintances, Business Partners/Family Friends, and even make up Characters to fill roles left unmentioned (Such as the Family and Friends of his Significant Other).
Starting Position: Beginner
Other: Effectively Mute, Familiar with Ranching but not necessarily with Pokemon not as common to old-fashioned Farming and Ranching, Kenzo lived a more traditional life that had little to do with breeding Pokemon that didn't have a direct produce or some kind of utility in day to day work, and he's far more comfortable with sturdy and reliable pokemon like Ground, Flying, Rock, and Normal types, and know his way around the more traditional Fire, Water, Electric, and Grass types generally. However he is a bit at a loss handling more finicky and less traditional Farming sorts, especially Psychic, Steel, Dragon, and Poison types, which seem to leave him a bit at a loss usually, and the Ghost, Ice, and Fairy types which he's had almost no experience with, and which are largely out of place in the life-style he's used to, though he's not averse to trying to understand them better. It should come as no surprise that he's an seasoned rider who is used to handling a pokemon underneath him, and while he prefers the land to the sky, he's not a first time flier either. He's adept at growing and nurturing plants, even ones not standard to farming, and he's surprisingly fond of many flowers, being both familiar and comfortable growing nearly anything out of the soil in the right conditions.
Oh Kenzo had his share of boyish trouble making. So often he shirked mucking out the stables and forking the hay, and oh how he and one of his sisters were fond of spooking and chasing around the ducklett and swanna just to see them panic and explode into squawking piles of feathers. Bruised arms and a bloody nose taught him that despite their appearances, swanna were far from gentle when they wanted to be, but the little jingle of a glameow's collar, taken in by his sister after one of the herdier on their land chased it from the torchic house and into a tree, was a fond memory, and while he was far from a perfect child, he was a good one. He tried to be at least, and Kenzo was taught early that family and hard work were the most important things in life.
Perhaps Kenzo missed a lot of the good things other kids did. Home schooling was necessary to make sure he and his siblings were on hand for the tilling, planting, caring, and harvesting of the plants, and there was many a day when a young teenage Kenzo would have to wake at the first light just to milk and water the farm pokemon. It wasn't a glamorous life, sure, and while he didn't lack for friendship and family, he didn't have much in luxury. They were well off, and their ranch did well, but a large family still meant there was little to go around after the expenses of the land, the pokemon, and dinner was taken care of. His toys were simple and mostly wooden, and his clothes were often handed down from an older brother. He visited the big cities, Nimbasa and Castelia, once or twice, but spent much of his time in the quiet and warm summer woods of White Forest.
Certainly Kenzo never got a change to explore, or to find a different life style. The idea of pokemon adventures, or studying to become a doctor, a lawyer, a banker, never even came up. Sure he pursued some passions and hobbies, long hours spent watching the herd or tending bruises from an onry ponyta left him time to try his hand at art and music, and he quite enjoyed spending hours sketching the land and the pokemon around him, or finding tunes for the flute to play to himself on the cool autumn nights. But he always was destined to follow in his parents footsteps, and the option of leaving just... never came up.
Sure, an older brother married and moved to Opelucid to help his wife in her restuarant. An older sister, rebellious and wild, took to the routes with the wind in her hair, striking off on her own and not taking no for an answer. Friends applied to schools and left. But several others stayed, and with nothing to call him, to push him onward, Kenzo stayed as well. After all, he enjoyed his life as it was, and growing to be a young man, he was eager to please his parents and eager to continue their work.
Perhaps it was young love that would lead Kenzo astray. He hadn't been from White Forest. He was a city boy, who enjoyed a life buried in books and quiet nights. He came to White Forest to see the stars he told Kenzo, and to enjoy nature away from all the noise of the cities. In some ways he was soft, a far stretch from the hard and dirty life Kenzo knew. In some ways though, he was mysterious and wonderful, telling stories and sharing tales. He was in love with history, with mythology, and with the world. He could go on for hours about pokemon, or about old legends, and Kenzo could listen to him for hours. And he loved to listen to Kenzo play the flute, to page through Kenzo's sketchbook, fingers drifting slowly over the smudged graphite lines, to nestle himself by a tree and watch Kenzo ride and train the dodrio.
Maybe Kenzo was just slow to realize it. Maybe he was just uncertain, nervous and new to that side of himself. But it wasn't until they shared a soft kiss, watching the stars on a clear spring night, where the lights of the city were distant and the sky was clean and clear, that he realized what it was. He was an uncertain lover, his confidence and bravado on the farm turned to blushing and awkwardness in romance, but he was nothing if not earnest and good. Some of his family weren't sure what to make of it, frowning and disapproving but unwilling to try to force the issue. Some were proud, or teasing, all too quick to whisper in his lovers ear and send both to laughter at his own sake.
But the silver twisting ring of twining metal Kenzo presented his lover, and the silver dratini, a sapphire gem embedded as its eye, was his sign of dedication, and his care. Perhaps he was not as good at ranching and farming, perhaps he was just a scholar, and could offer Kenzo little in the way of furthering his lifestyle. But he gave Kenzo happiness, and that was really all Kenzo wanted, and he would give everything for that. Kenzo lived simple and hard, but he lived loyally and honestly, and he understood that about Kenzo.
And he found his place in Kenzo's lifestyle too, helping where he could, and offering company and warmth at the end of a long day where he wasn't quite cut out for it. Kenzo remembers most fondly a night spent in the barn, nursing an egg through a difficult hatching while a nervous zebstrika circled around them. While gently padding a towel over the baby blitzle, he had asked to name it, softly drying it's ears and flanks for several long minutes while Kenzo stroked the mother's mane. Raijin is what he had said at last, smiling softly as he explained it was based on the name of a god of lightning and storms in another country.
Kenzo also remembers the night one of the Rapidash went wild. It had been acting strange, twitchy and uneasy for days now, and barely eating. He's not sure if it was ill, or if it had been a predator, people had been whispering about a Zoroark in the woods lately but Kenzo had yet to find any traces of the pokemon. The Rapidash went on a rampage though, screaming in the middle of the night. He'd always taken care to make sure the stables for the wily and swift fire types was well suited to not be a hazard, but when the pokemon broke free of it's stall and crashed through the building, the flames spread only far too quickly. Kenzo had been quick to wake and spring into action, and his lover, sleepy and terrified by the sudden noise and disaster in the night had followed. It was the scared bleating of Raijin, still unsteady on their legs, that had driven him to the back of the barn. Kenzo had been only a step behind him, working quickly to get all the pokemon out but unwilling to leave his lover to get help to put out the fire. They were just a couple paces away.
Maybe thats what saved Kenzo's life. Maybe if he had been closer he could have saved his lover. The roof collapsed on one side, sliding down and crumbling.
Kenzo was told, in the hospital bed he woke in, that he had been lucky. The fire had mostly been put out by the building partially falling, and that several of the Mudbray and Mudsdale had instinctively attacked what remained with ground type moves. He had escaped the fire itself mostly, only an arm suffering any actual burning, but he had been hit by some of the roof, suffering a bad concussion and a few broken bones. The bones healed quickly enough. His heart, and his spirit, took a lot longer. They said it was probably an injury in his head that caused his sudden loss of speech. A heavy heart wondered if it wasn't an injury of another kind that left him unable to find his voice, his laugh, his words, anymore. He could play the flute still, and after he healed, he found his hands decent enough with a pencil still, but he couldn't sing those old tunes he used to for him, humming those quiet melodies or laughing to those jokes they shared.
A part of Kenzo was gone. And with it, much of his life followed. He lost many pokemon, and would leave the farm to his siblings, setting aside all his work and duty that he used to care for so diligently. For a while, Kenzo was lost. It was a sister who helped him find himself again, one of the ones still working the ranch. She asked him to visit, to come back from his aimless wandering of the region. When he did, he was greeted by little Raijin, the blitzle missing a leg and much of his tail, but healthy again, and trotting about the house. The pokemon would never run the way their kin did, but Raijin still gleamed and sparked with energy and excitement when they saw Kenzo, nuzzling a snout into his hand with familiarity.
Kenzo remembers as well the joy on his sisters face when he smiled again. When he informed her he was traveling to Ascua, she understood immediately. He hadn't been from White Forest, that scholarly young man who'd sat gazing at the stars on those warm Unovan nights. It was time Kenzo left the ranch, left the farm, and left Unova, and to find his own place in life for a bit. He wanted to explore, see those sights and read those stories that he had been told about so fondly and with such reverence and nostalgia both. Perhaps it seemed a little silly, waiting so long to leave, and wanting to start over from scratch just to make a Ranch of his own hands, but he knew that life best, and he knew, in part, that what he needed was a fresh start. A rebirth, to take things at a different approach, far from what he knew and among new lands and new faces. Life had been too short, and only in knowing this could one appreciate what they were missing with just contentment instead of curiosity.
Goals & Mod Permissions: Kenzo's goal is partially undefined. He had an intention simply to go to Ascua, and to go start his own Ranch there. What that means, in the long run, doesn't really concern him so much as the process, and whether he ends up successful or only having a handful of pokemon isn't really all that important. He's been a rancher before, he's grown and lost, and now he's trying to step back, slow down, and appreciate the littler things more and worry less about what benefits his finances or family, and make connections instead of remaining so close to himself. The process is all that really matters, and in truth, the only reason he's chosen this more familiar lifestyle over the alternatives is just a lack of experience or interest in Co-Ordination or Competitive Training, but a love of pokemon too strong to not work with them day to day and an inclination for labor and the simple rough work out doors to feel at home in more modern landscapes and jobs. In part though, his goal is to travel, and to experience Ascua in full. He doesn't want to see just one place, to settle down just on Gaia without adventuring, he wants to travel the entire breadth of it, and partake in all the region has to offer. His lack of interest in the Contests and the Gym Challenges has little to do with a lack of fervor for wandering. It's less a bucket list, all bullet-pointed out with things he wants to do, and more just a thought, an idea and direction, and he aims to go to whatever places he can find, and do whatever interesting activities or events happen across him, rather than seek something distant or final. He wants to live in the moment, and live for the moment, as fully as he can, making connections and existing not just for himself and the next day.
Mods are free to utilize anyone they wish in Kenzo's backstory as NPCs, both from previous Pokemon to Family, Childhood Friends, Acquaintances, Business Partners/Family Friends, and even make up Characters to fill roles left unmentioned (Such as the Family and Friends of his Significant Other).
Starting Position: Beginner
Other: Effectively Mute, Familiar with Ranching but not necessarily with Pokemon not as common to old-fashioned Farming and Ranching, Kenzo lived a more traditional life that had little to do with breeding Pokemon that didn't have a direct produce or some kind of utility in day to day work, and he's far more comfortable with sturdy and reliable pokemon like Ground, Flying, Rock, and Normal types, and know his way around the more traditional Fire, Water, Electric, and Grass types generally. However he is a bit at a loss handling more finicky and less traditional Farming sorts, especially Psychic, Steel, Dragon, and Poison types, which seem to leave him a bit at a loss usually, and the Ghost, Ice, and Fairy types which he's had almost no experience with, and which are largely out of place in the life-style he's used to, though he's not averse to trying to understand them better. It should come as no surprise that he's an seasoned rider who is used to handling a pokemon underneath him, and while he prefers the land to the sky, he's not a first time flier either. He's adept at growing and nurturing plants, even ones not standard to farming, and he's surprisingly fond of many flowers, being both familiar and comfortable growing nearly anything out of the soil in the right conditions.
In White Forest there is a Sycamore Tree not far from the Raikusa Family Ranch that he planted as a child. Around it now is a small bed of flowers and herbs, Catnip, Sage, Chrysanthemums, and Dahlias blooming around a subtle Grave, marked sometimes by offerings and rememberings, and always by the simple but well cared for Grave-Stone. At twice a year, on two days he never misses, Kenzo visits, both to remember, and to give, taking some of the syrup those still at the Ranch collect from his tree, and leaving always a bit of it there, along with something from his travels or the flower bed.
In Kenzo's new Ranch House there are two Ash Wood Bows, one which has obviously seen many years of use with simple leather fixings, and another which is well cared for and polished, with soft dyed leather handles and painted vines beneath the layer of shellac, though it seems to be mostly unused and still pristine. He collects books as well, and though he won't have brought much with him, a book shelf is sure to start growing, mostly with history and mythology, though a few choice selections of other genre's and authors are sure to be present, as well as a separate section for subjects related more directly to Pokemon finding, Raising, Breeding, and Handling. There's also a shelf that seems to be dedicated just to sketchbooks, some only half-filled while others are stuffed with extra pages, drawings, scraps, and notes all collected within, though nearly everything seems to be done only in graphite, with some pieces here or there featuring colored pencil. Most of them are full of just farm pokemon, and a few human figures, one of which appears repeatedly, memories of a past life now. In fact, he's rarely without a sketch-book on hand, and while he doesn't draw much attention to it, during quiet moments he often takes out a pencil to sketch, or (generally when he thinks he's alone or only with Pokemon) he'll take out a flute, wooden in craft but surprisingly elegant despite it's humble appearance.
My member name is Saint Judas.
My member name is Saint Judas.
| male | sand rush | field | kenzo raikusa
| female | intimidate | field | kenzo raikusa