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[center][color=Lime][h3]Ray Stylo[/h3][/color]
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It had been overcast since Ray had awoken. At first he assumed that it was too early to be up, the light hardly penetrated the stained window of his shelter, a bus. But after some moments of trying to return to sleep he decided to poke his head outside. The sky was awash with various shades of grey, in places a chink of light managed to break through, but otherwise it was almost as dark as pre-dawn. The air was humid and smelt of storms.

At that moment, he had to make a difficult call, should he dawn the Stylo formal, or slip into the fatigues he had taken an interest in. He considered the flaws in each choice. If he was go on this journey, he wanted to be a new person. No longer did he want to be represented by his families name, but his own. The Stylo formal was not going to help him achieve that, that was for sure. Without as much as a forethought, Ray left his place one the near empty bus, and took one step into his new life.
Well, the step really happened when he left the bathroom in his new clothing.

Taking his place near the back of the crowd, Ray took to daydreaming instead of listening to the Professor. In his head, leaving home was the best choice he could have made. There was to much stress at home, to much pressure, to many eyes following his every move. Now that he was so far away from the prying eyes, he felt a certain freedom that he has never felt before. Unfortunately, that sense of freedom was replaced by  anticipation.

Anticipation was a nervous kind of energy. It tingled through him like electrical sparks on the way to the ground, gathering in his toes. The idea of finding his first Pokemon was an exciting one indeed. Unfortunately, it was also nerve racking. He couldn't just chose any Pokemon. This was his first, the one who would stick with him through thick an thin, he couldn't just choose any old Pokemon.

That moment of anticipation soon passed though. In his deep state of daydreaming, he had nearly missed the opening of the sanctuary. Hundreds ran passed him, and he was becoming a straggler. That didn't sit well with Ray. If he only had and hour to find the perfect Pokemon that fit under his fighting-type needs, he would have to use every second of it. The young Stylo wasted no more time sprinting into the beautiful sanctuary.