[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/klazWfD.png?1[/img]
[i]”Don't give in when its fourth quarter and you're down by three! Just make a sweet jumper and let the good times roll.”[/i][/center]

[b]Name:[/b] Summer Rose 
[b]Age:[/b] 16
[b]Gender:[/b] Male
[b]Digivice Color:[/b] Maroon 

[b]Appearance:[/b] Summer is a athletic cream skinned male, standing at about 5'6”, slim and toned. His kind face is especially nice to look at, despite the small scar traced underneath his eye, which goes largely unnoticed after getting to know him. Stormy gray eyes tend to answer most questions with uncertainty, even if his words seem to contradict them. His short black hair fall around his face in framing strands that tends to points at boyish charm. His style tends to lean towards urban culture with a mixture of individual interest. His country upbringing has added a straw-hat to the twist to give him a unique style. 

[b]Personality:[/b] A sympathetic soul to most causes, Summer has demonstrated a drive for helping others. Throughout his life he has disregarded his hobbies of reading, birdwatching, and playing basketball to help others that were brave enough to ask for it. He is jolly, despite the traumatic death of his father in his childhood and with only his mother to raise him, Summer has grown tender and kindhearted. 

However, without a strong masculine influence in his life, Summer has taken it upon himself to guide the ideal of manliness into his core. He has watched anime, read manga, and taken action movies into consideration, gaining a certain brutish and blunt directness towards confrontation. Though this is purely male on male. When it comes to females, he is often flushed and confused, while attempting to maintain the boldness that he has made his own. His success varies greatly on the reaction of the female.

He tends to shut down completely when his father is brought up, whether that be directly or indirectly. He puts the blame on anything that could make sense at the time and often will chuckle about the incident later to put off suspicion. His most notable quirk would be the occasional whistle of a childhood tune. 

[b]Belongings[/b]
(1x)Straw-Hat 
(3x)Peppermints
(xx)Loose Change
(1x)Wallet 
(1x)Student ID
(1x)Basket Ball 

Crest: Compassion 

Bio: Summer was born on a rowdy summer's day, the people in upheaval over the environmental problems that were being wrongfully ignored by their government. His young wails joined a canopy of complaints that night and the razing flames of anger and frustration. His aunt was also born on this day and together they were welcomed into the world by a massive gathering of family members.

Eight years passed by with relatively easy, blurred days of fun and punishment whirled into a vision of early memories. He was use to playing in the yard with his aunt but when he saw a large samurai wrapped in gold flash through the street, he went to investigate. He ran out in the street, unaware that the monster had passed by so quick that the draft behind it was dragging cars on the street towards him. Either way, that particular incident ended with his survival and his father's death. 

Now a freshman in highschool, attending with his aunt of course, Summer has hidden away the guilt and showcases his compassion for others heavily. Lately his days have been invaded by visions of a fiery creature, one that begs for his attention and help. It almost seems real but admittedly its been troublesome. A game of basketball turns into hysterical moment of unease as everyone watches him drop the ball and go into a trance. His night dreams are filled with the same, though their impossibly more vivid. 

[b]Digimon Partner:[/b] Coronamon
Firamon 
Flaremon 
Apollomon 

[b]Digimon Personality:[/b] Sarcastic, laid-back, and fearless, Coronamon has a natural and almost visible aura about him. He lays the hope for the Digital World squarely on his shoulders and while it seems arrogant (and probably is) he does this indefinitely. While prominently optimistic about the future, there are times when he is alone or with a confidant that he allows his pessimism to seep through, though without fear of any Digimon, his concern for the Digital World goes beyond the natural realms of fear. It lies at the very essence of conflict and that is a eternal and unsolvable problem. 

[b]Sample Post:[/b] [i]Red... Red painted the night. A bloody crimson that made bone creak and hearts thump, the type that made death feel a single doorstep away. And in the middle of all that red, standing inside the crimson downpour on that car wrecked street was Summer. He was just a tyke, his small arm just barely holding on to the basketball between his side and arm, his strawhat placed firmly over his head. 

In between the revolving lights that flashed over the ambulance and police cruises, he could see the mangled body that laid half way out the shattered drive-window. Its head was impossibly turnt but was undeniably glaring at him, lifeless and gray. It made his body tremor and stutter, his palms clammy. 

“Why was you in the street?” The eye gained life, the jaw unhinged moving inhumanly. “Summer! Why were you in the street!”[/i]

“I didn't know!” shouted the boy, his head springing forwards into a foamed lantern hanging over his head, its amber bulbs shining dimly in his room. He slouched forwards—again, the feeling of helplessness overcoming him. 

[i]One day... you'll let me forget,[/i] he uttered to himself, too afraid to even whisper the unspoken suggestion.