Post by Michi Fujimoto on Apr 2, 2014 16:37:11 GMT -5
MICHI FUJIMOTO
WAR IS THE FATHER OF US ALL, KING OF ALL.
SOME IT MAKES GODS, SOME IT MAKES MEN, SOME IT MAKES SLAVES,
SOME FREE.
MICHI "MITCH" FUJIMOTO | TWENTY-EIGHT |
MALE | HETEROSEXUAL |
JAPANESE/MEXICAN | 6'3" | 195 LBS |
SECURITY SPECIALIST/BODYGUARD | FAN OF GEM247 |
ESSENTIALS
PERSONALITY
To accurately describe Michi Fujimoto, one should think of an Akita dog. Aloof around strangers, territorial when threatened, affection with his family, and prone to being cuter than you’d give him credit for all while remaining pretty aloof.
Before anything else, Mitch’s professional image is cultivated and kept nice and appealing to potential clients. He is productive, punctual, and responsible. Never late, never lacking supplies, and never mishandling his client, Fujimoto takes his responsibility as a bodyguard beyond seriously. Any areas to be visited that day will be thoroughly scouted ahead of time and he will demand that his awareness of the surroundings not be impeded any. Simply put, when Mitch is on the clock, he becomes very much so the stereotypical brawny, focused guardian one thinks of when they hear about security agents.
Aspects of his professionalism that often spills over into his personal life are his high standards, efficiency, and harshness. While he understands most of his clients are quite popular, nothing pisses him off more than fans who feel the need to stop his clients in non-standardized locations. He has incredibly high standards of conduct, both for himself and whoever he’s guarding. Breaks, alterations in the route, and arriving late to “mingle” are all perfectly unacceptable to Michi. He can be quite harsh, then, going from a strong, silent protect to a chiding older brother or even father figure like the flip of a switch. Furthermore, his desire for efficiency makes trying to get creative with him while he’s on duty a hassle. He’s usually already figured out the quickest, most publicly acceptable route. Detouring off of it only serves to make him tense and a bit pissy.
If it isn’t clear by now, Michi is pretty aggressive. He’s also not easily intimidated and he’s highly competitive. While he isn’t the jerk-jock version of an alpha male, he’s intolerant of insubordination, whether it be directed towards himself or others. He’s all too happy to take care of rebellious youths or foolish elders, whether it be with a lecture or a good brawl. It takes a lot to rattle Mitch; try and threaten him, and he’ll just feel like you invited him to do the same to you. And, competitive as he is, he would hate to lose something like that.
As hinted at earlier, Mitch is dominant. He’s also independent and confident. He takes the lead easily and has no trouble making decisions. He’s fine working on his own. In fact, working in teams without a clear chain of command pisses him off; discussing every little thing is inefficient in his eyes.
Mitch is not easily stressed and he’s pretty consistent. He finds his consistency a flaw, as it makes him easy to predict, but it also means he can easily retrace his steps and always has a secure guide to follow. That being said, unless something truly traumatic happens, Mitch remains unrattled. Car wreck? Great, get the client out, make sure they’re safe. Get all necessary items out. Make sure the car isn’t about to explode. Call emergency services. Wait and guard. … yeah, it’s a little irritating how calmly he takes everything.
Because of his professional facade, one would be quite surprised just how playful he is off the clock. While not excitable by any means, he’s not above jokes and generally fawning over those he cares for. A surprise visit isn’t unheard of for him to pay a friend, not is mailing a really dumb prank for them to open and get flustered over. When he’s really good friends with someone, depending on how physically capable they are, he’ll either start play-fighting or tickle-fighting with them. And, yes, if you noticed how forward these all are, Michi is quite bold. When he does something, he does. It’s because he’s so confident.
On a final note, while he is quite aloof towards strangers and even lesser friends, to those he has spent adequate time around, Michi is quite loyal. It’s due to his consistency and high standards. If he’s tolerated someone long enough, he decides that they’re worth keeping around.
HISTORY
Michi Fujimoto was born to Yuzuki Fujimoto and Callisto Fujimoto in Shasta County, California. While both were US citizens, each parent held on to their heritage, though Yuzuki much more so as she had been raised to believe her family came from a line of shoguns. The woman was confident and strong while her husband was skilled and crafty. Together, they were a powerful couple.
Michi, or “Mitch” as his Anglo-American friends would eventually nickname him, grew up on his family’s horse boarding-breeding facility. The riding school it hosted and the event grounds which were kept beautiful at all times often kept his busy and taught him discipline at a young age. The riding school was on the same property as his house in the Mary Lake subdivision of Redding, California.
All of his heritage and discipline didn’t matter when he entered school. The other kids made fun of him because, while he spoke English, he was much more fluent in Spanish and Japanese. It didn’t help that he was rather chubby and a deal taller than the other children. His gentle, protective nature didn’t help matters. He became known as a big baby. Around age nine, he got sick of always being bullied and resolved in himself to begin his transformation into a wonderful young man.
His first taste of success was when he was performing in an event his mother hosted. A neighbor girl he knew from school and had been admiring from afar for a while was partnered with him for a scene. The cool, calm manner in which he handled his horse impressed her and eventually she called him her “champion”, a reference to the days of knighthood. This sent Mitch over the moon. His confidence swelled. At the time, he was only twelve. After that incident, he and the girl began dating. It triggered a series of short but sweet romances; most of the girls Mitch began dating just wanted a nice first boyfriend, which Mitch was all too happy to be. He liked to dote on the girls and the way they always complimented him and talked him up in front of others made him feel good.
By the time he hit high school, he was still taller than most his peers, but he’d remained large in a different way. He was ripped. Between football, kick boxing, powerlifting, and equestrianism, Mich had become a “swole daddy”. He’d all but given up on that long ago ideal of becoming a knight in shining armor. He spent most of high school being a dumb jock, much to his mother’s irritation and his father’s joy.
When it came time to go to college, Mitch instead joined the army. His mother was outraged; she wanted Mitch to inherit the riding school. Mitch’s father was worried; Mitch would be very young and entering during America’s “war on terror”. Still, their son went through training and was deployed to Iraq during 2004-2005.
While his regiment--the 11th Armored Calvary--was only there for a year, Mitch was there even shorter. While he and a fellow soldier, a close friend of his actually, were patrolling their perimeter. A few locals, incited by opposing forces, attacked. Both were prepared to defend the base without use of lethal force--these locals didn’t appear to have weapons, after all--when one threw a homemade bomb. As support was coming and was unaware of the danger, Mitch’s buddy tried keep the bomb from detonating so close, possibly hurting other soldiers. It went off anyway, killing Michi’s friend and ripping up the flesh along Mitch’s eyes with shrapnel; several other areas of Mitch’s body sustained injury, though none of it as serious. As his survivor’s guilt had not yet set in due to adrenaline, Mitch joined the other soldiers in defending base camp. As soon as they returned and Mitch got medical attention, the realization that he’d been right there when Bojan Morison died. The guilt of living when his friend died--died trying to save everyone else--when there was so much left to live for drove Mitch over the edge. He went blind from the stress of it all, though everyone else assumed he’d actually lost his sight due to physical damage.
Scarred and rattled, Mitch was returned to California, where he underwent therapy for both his new post-traumatic stress disorder and his blindness. After six months, his therapist figured out that the PTSD was causing the blindness. After a special retreat meant to deal with survivor’s guilt, Mitch regained his eyesight.
He returned home. His mother was angry but happy he’d survived. Mitch’s father thought it was all a miracle. Mitch went back to working at the riding school, meeting back up with friends from both Redding and his training days. Mitch was occasionally asked to escort people places they felt uncomfortable or unsafe. Soon, he met a professional bodyguard. They guy put Mitch in touch with an organization that was more or less a hiring agency for security agents.
By 2009, Mitch was back in the saddle, pun excused. He learned some business practice in his new trade. The reintroduction into combat helped treat some of his guilt, too. He might have lived, but he lived because he had to protect others, he felt. He was only any good as a weapon, but that was okay; it helped him sleep at night.
Life was good. Mitch had many non-serious girlfriends, all pretty black or latina girls who wanted a man eager to treat them like ladies but not looking for a serious commitment themselves. It was more like romantic friendship, really.
This ticked Yuzuki off. In 2010, she demanded that Mitch go stay with her parents in Kamakura, Japan, in order to find a suitable wife and settle down. Reluctantly, Mitch realized he’d either have to go to Japan or deal with his mother. He was already a grown man; the only reason he was still at home was because he was on the road so much that having his own house was pointless. Still, it was either buy a house he would never be able to maintain in order to get away from his mother’s complaining or go to Japan and work in that area.
Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to go to Japan, Mitch found his popularity was high here, still. In America, his talents as a veteran and the fact he was multilingual (he managed to pick up some Arabic while deployed; those Iraqi girls were sure pretty, he fondly recalls) made him a favorite of clients who didn’t want to deal with newbie punks who had taken up the job for the thrill. In Japan, foreigners felt at ease with him because he knew a little about the majority of his client’s cultures. As for those native to Japan, he was a bit of an oddity; not so foreign, however, as to cause scandal or to trigger the non-conformity taboo, but he kept things professional yet fresh.
So, right now, life’s really good. While he lives in his grandparent’s house in Kamakura, he works all over Japan. Most of his jobs are temporary, in Tokyo at that. He’s actually getting a bit sick of all this train riding and plane trips to his clients and is looking for a permanent client, preferably in Tokyo so he can still visit his folks during his off time.
APPEARANCE
Michi is tall, built, heavy, and strong. His muscle isn’t just for show. They bulge with power. Unlike teenage boys who take pride in being slender but ‘toned’, Mitch ain’t about playtime. He’s built to take care of business. Combine this with his stature and his usually grim expression for business, and you’ve got yourself a real Akita in human flesh--he definitely looks like he could wrestle a bear and maybe win.
That aside, as far as coloration goes, it really just depends on the time of year.
In height of summer, Mitch is a nice brown color, a bit lighter than his father. His hair is an odd color, though; it’s black with blonde undertones, so when it bleaches in the sun, it ends up looking green. It really ticks Mitch off, but it aids to his “I will beat your *ss, don’t test me” look with its length, so he hasn’t cut it off yet. He also can’t be bothered to continuously dye his hair, so he’s stuck with the color.
In the depth of winter, Fujimoto is almost as pale as his mother. His hair is very close to pitch black. He looks a bit haunting or ghostly like this, not that he cares. It’s been noted that his hair gets a bit more tame in winter. It’s probably because it isn’t as humid in most winter locations; less heat for the air to get muggy with, after all.
As far as clothing goes, when Mitch is working, he wears a crisp white shirt, black slacks, comfortable but well kept dress shoes, and a black jacket. Occasionally, he’ll don a tie if the occasion is a bit more formal. He usually wears shades, just in case he gets overwhelmed sensory wise and needs to block out some of the information in order to operate better. He also keeps a taser, fully registered of course, along with a pair of protective gloves in here, mace, and zip ties. As he was unable to register for a gun in Japan due to his PTSD, he has to make due. He’d be more concerned about working without a gun if he didn’t hope to return to America on his thirtieth birthday.
Informal situations where he’s still going in public, he typically wears blue jeans with a t-shirt under a button-up shirt. He still wears shoes appropriate for a grown man. He likes sweaters and such, too. He doesn’t wear hats too often, but you might find a baseball cap on his head every now and then.
In the most informal but still social situations, then Mitch will wear cargo shorts and a wife beater. The only time you’ll see him shirtless is in the comfort of his own home if you’re a very close friend or if he’s swimming. He isn’t exactly modest, but he’s more conservative here than he was in America. He’s not the best at Japanese manners, but he’s aware that there’s a lower tolerance for informality and lewdness here.
In summary, Michi looks odd at first glance, but it fits and it’s easily ignored after a bit of time.
OTHER FEATURES
Scarring around his eyes from the shrapnel.
To accurately describe Michi Fujimoto, one should think of an Akita dog. Aloof around strangers, territorial when threatened, affection with his family, and prone to being cuter than you’d give him credit for all while remaining pretty aloof.
Before anything else, Mitch’s professional image is cultivated and kept nice and appealing to potential clients. He is productive, punctual, and responsible. Never late, never lacking supplies, and never mishandling his client, Fujimoto takes his responsibility as a bodyguard beyond seriously. Any areas to be visited that day will be thoroughly scouted ahead of time and he will demand that his awareness of the surroundings not be impeded any. Simply put, when Mitch is on the clock, he becomes very much so the stereotypical brawny, focused guardian one thinks of when they hear about security agents.
Aspects of his professionalism that often spills over into his personal life are his high standards, efficiency, and harshness. While he understands most of his clients are quite popular, nothing pisses him off more than fans who feel the need to stop his clients in non-standardized locations. He has incredibly high standards of conduct, both for himself and whoever he’s guarding. Breaks, alterations in the route, and arriving late to “mingle” are all perfectly unacceptable to Michi. He can be quite harsh, then, going from a strong, silent protect to a chiding older brother or even father figure like the flip of a switch. Furthermore, his desire for efficiency makes trying to get creative with him while he’s on duty a hassle. He’s usually already figured out the quickest, most publicly acceptable route. Detouring off of it only serves to make him tense and a bit pissy.
If it isn’t clear by now, Michi is pretty aggressive. He’s also not easily intimidated and he’s highly competitive. While he isn’t the jerk-jock version of an alpha male, he’s intolerant of insubordination, whether it be directed towards himself or others. He’s all too happy to take care of rebellious youths or foolish elders, whether it be with a lecture or a good brawl. It takes a lot to rattle Mitch; try and threaten him, and he’ll just feel like you invited him to do the same to you. And, competitive as he is, he would hate to lose something like that.
As hinted at earlier, Mitch is dominant. He’s also independent and confident. He takes the lead easily and has no trouble making decisions. He’s fine working on his own. In fact, working in teams without a clear chain of command pisses him off; discussing every little thing is inefficient in his eyes.
Mitch is not easily stressed and he’s pretty consistent. He finds his consistency a flaw, as it makes him easy to predict, but it also means he can easily retrace his steps and always has a secure guide to follow. That being said, unless something truly traumatic happens, Mitch remains unrattled. Car wreck? Great, get the client out, make sure they’re safe. Get all necessary items out. Make sure the car isn’t about to explode. Call emergency services. Wait and guard. … yeah, it’s a little irritating how calmly he takes everything.
Because of his professional facade, one would be quite surprised just how playful he is off the clock. While not excitable by any means, he’s not above jokes and generally fawning over those he cares for. A surprise visit isn’t unheard of for him to pay a friend, not is mailing a really dumb prank for them to open and get flustered over. When he’s really good friends with someone, depending on how physically capable they are, he’ll either start play-fighting or tickle-fighting with them. And, yes, if you noticed how forward these all are, Michi is quite bold. When he does something, he does. It’s because he’s so confident.
On a final note, while he is quite aloof towards strangers and even lesser friends, to those he has spent adequate time around, Michi is quite loyal. It’s due to his consistency and high standards. If he’s tolerated someone long enough, he decides that they’re worth keeping around.
HISTORY
Michi Fujimoto was born to Yuzuki Fujimoto and Callisto Fujimoto in Shasta County, California. While both were US citizens, each parent held on to their heritage, though Yuzuki much more so as she had been raised to believe her family came from a line of shoguns. The woman was confident and strong while her husband was skilled and crafty. Together, they were a powerful couple.
Michi, or “Mitch” as his Anglo-American friends would eventually nickname him, grew up on his family’s horse boarding-breeding facility. The riding school it hosted and the event grounds which were kept beautiful at all times often kept his busy and taught him discipline at a young age. The riding school was on the same property as his house in the Mary Lake subdivision of Redding, California.
All of his heritage and discipline didn’t matter when he entered school. The other kids made fun of him because, while he spoke English, he was much more fluent in Spanish and Japanese. It didn’t help that he was rather chubby and a deal taller than the other children. His gentle, protective nature didn’t help matters. He became known as a big baby. Around age nine, he got sick of always being bullied and resolved in himself to begin his transformation into a wonderful young man.
His first taste of success was when he was performing in an event his mother hosted. A neighbor girl he knew from school and had been admiring from afar for a while was partnered with him for a scene. The cool, calm manner in which he handled his horse impressed her and eventually she called him her “champion”, a reference to the days of knighthood. This sent Mitch over the moon. His confidence swelled. At the time, he was only twelve. After that incident, he and the girl began dating. It triggered a series of short but sweet romances; most of the girls Mitch began dating just wanted a nice first boyfriend, which Mitch was all too happy to be. He liked to dote on the girls and the way they always complimented him and talked him up in front of others made him feel good.
By the time he hit high school, he was still taller than most his peers, but he’d remained large in a different way. He was ripped. Between football, kick boxing, powerlifting, and equestrianism, Mich had become a “swole daddy”. He’d all but given up on that long ago ideal of becoming a knight in shining armor. He spent most of high school being a dumb jock, much to his mother’s irritation and his father’s joy.
When it came time to go to college, Mitch instead joined the army. His mother was outraged; she wanted Mitch to inherit the riding school. Mitch’s father was worried; Mitch would be very young and entering during America’s “war on terror”. Still, their son went through training and was deployed to Iraq during 2004-2005.
While his regiment--the 11th Armored Calvary--was only there for a year, Mitch was there even shorter. While he and a fellow soldier, a close friend of his actually, were patrolling their perimeter. A few locals, incited by opposing forces, attacked. Both were prepared to defend the base without use of lethal force--these locals didn’t appear to have weapons, after all--when one threw a homemade bomb. As support was coming and was unaware of the danger, Mitch’s buddy tried keep the bomb from detonating so close, possibly hurting other soldiers. It went off anyway, killing Michi’s friend and ripping up the flesh along Mitch’s eyes with shrapnel; several other areas of Mitch’s body sustained injury, though none of it as serious. As his survivor’s guilt had not yet set in due to adrenaline, Mitch joined the other soldiers in defending base camp. As soon as they returned and Mitch got medical attention, the realization that he’d been right there when Bojan Morison died. The guilt of living when his friend died--died trying to save everyone else--when there was so much left to live for drove Mitch over the edge. He went blind from the stress of it all, though everyone else assumed he’d actually lost his sight due to physical damage.
Scarred and rattled, Mitch was returned to California, where he underwent therapy for both his new post-traumatic stress disorder and his blindness. After six months, his therapist figured out that the PTSD was causing the blindness. After a special retreat meant to deal with survivor’s guilt, Mitch regained his eyesight.
He returned home. His mother was angry but happy he’d survived. Mitch’s father thought it was all a miracle. Mitch went back to working at the riding school, meeting back up with friends from both Redding and his training days. Mitch was occasionally asked to escort people places they felt uncomfortable or unsafe. Soon, he met a professional bodyguard. They guy put Mitch in touch with an organization that was more or less a hiring agency for security agents.
By 2009, Mitch was back in the saddle, pun excused. He learned some business practice in his new trade. The reintroduction into combat helped treat some of his guilt, too. He might have lived, but he lived because he had to protect others, he felt. He was only any good as a weapon, but that was okay; it helped him sleep at night.
Life was good. Mitch had many non-serious girlfriends, all pretty black or latina girls who wanted a man eager to treat them like ladies but not looking for a serious commitment themselves. It was more like romantic friendship, really.
This ticked Yuzuki off. In 2010, she demanded that Mitch go stay with her parents in Kamakura, Japan, in order to find a suitable wife and settle down. Reluctantly, Mitch realized he’d either have to go to Japan or deal with his mother. He was already a grown man; the only reason he was still at home was because he was on the road so much that having his own house was pointless. Still, it was either buy a house he would never be able to maintain in order to get away from his mother’s complaining or go to Japan and work in that area.
Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to go to Japan, Mitch found his popularity was high here, still. In America, his talents as a veteran and the fact he was multilingual (he managed to pick up some Arabic while deployed; those Iraqi girls were sure pretty, he fondly recalls) made him a favorite of clients who didn’t want to deal with newbie punks who had taken up the job for the thrill. In Japan, foreigners felt at ease with him because he knew a little about the majority of his client’s cultures. As for those native to Japan, he was a bit of an oddity; not so foreign, however, as to cause scandal or to trigger the non-conformity taboo, but he kept things professional yet fresh.
So, right now, life’s really good. While he lives in his grandparent’s house in Kamakura, he works all over Japan. Most of his jobs are temporary, in Tokyo at that. He’s actually getting a bit sick of all this train riding and plane trips to his clients and is looking for a permanent client, preferably in Tokyo so he can still visit his folks during his off time.
APPEARANCE
Michi is tall, built, heavy, and strong. His muscle isn’t just for show. They bulge with power. Unlike teenage boys who take pride in being slender but ‘toned’, Mitch ain’t about playtime. He’s built to take care of business. Combine this with his stature and his usually grim expression for business, and you’ve got yourself a real Akita in human flesh--he definitely looks like he could wrestle a bear and maybe win.
That aside, as far as coloration goes, it really just depends on the time of year.
In height of summer, Mitch is a nice brown color, a bit lighter than his father. His hair is an odd color, though; it’s black with blonde undertones, so when it bleaches in the sun, it ends up looking green. It really ticks Mitch off, but it aids to his “I will beat your *ss, don’t test me” look with its length, so he hasn’t cut it off yet. He also can’t be bothered to continuously dye his hair, so he’s stuck with the color.
In the depth of winter, Fujimoto is almost as pale as his mother. His hair is very close to pitch black. He looks a bit haunting or ghostly like this, not that he cares. It’s been noted that his hair gets a bit more tame in winter. It’s probably because it isn’t as humid in most winter locations; less heat for the air to get muggy with, after all.
As far as clothing goes, when Mitch is working, he wears a crisp white shirt, black slacks, comfortable but well kept dress shoes, and a black jacket. Occasionally, he’ll don a tie if the occasion is a bit more formal. He usually wears shades, just in case he gets overwhelmed sensory wise and needs to block out some of the information in order to operate better. He also keeps a taser, fully registered of course, along with a pair of protective gloves in here, mace, and zip ties. As he was unable to register for a gun in Japan due to his PTSD, he has to make due. He’d be more concerned about working without a gun if he didn’t hope to return to America on his thirtieth birthday.
Informal situations where he’s still going in public, he typically wears blue jeans with a t-shirt under a button-up shirt. He still wears shoes appropriate for a grown man. He likes sweaters and such, too. He doesn’t wear hats too often, but you might find a baseball cap on his head every now and then.
In the most informal but still social situations, then Mitch will wear cargo shorts and a wife beater. The only time you’ll see him shirtless is in the comfort of his own home if you’re a very close friend or if he’s swimming. He isn’t exactly modest, but he’s more conservative here than he was in America. He’s not the best at Japanese manners, but he’s aware that there’s a lower tolerance for informality and lewdness here.
In summary, Michi looks odd at first glance, but it fits and it’s easily ignored after a bit of time.
OTHER FEATURES
Scarring around his eyes from the shrapnel.
OTHER INFORMATION
TALENTS & SKILLS
Michi speaks English and Spanish fluently, capable of throwing around slang easily. He speaks Japanese as well, but due to learning it from his mother and grandparents, it's very formal sounding. He has a tough time switching to more casual words. He's also able to spew a few phrases in Arabic and carry on a bit of a conversation, nothing complex, though.
Due to being raised on a boarding facility and participating in various horse-y activities, Mitch is quite the equestrian given that you're riding English. He's best at dressage and jumping, though the former of those he doesn't like to talk about as he got teased about it when he was younger.
Michi's a warrior. He's good in hand-to-hand combat and at handling guns (not that he really gets to, in Japan). He's also a good strategist. On top of all this, Mitch is stupidly strong. He squats close to 400 lbs, after all.
He's business savvy, at least when it comes to pricing. He knows the value of things pretty well, unless they're specialty or so rare they're unheard of. Then, of course, he has no reference point.
He has a heightened sense of hearing smell, and spatial awareness. More or less, as echolocation has been confirmed in humans, especially so among the blind, he has a good deal of this. He's also good at keeping up with where things are, as he sometimes cannot just look to remember where he left something; that could jut count as good memory, though. At any rate, it's hard for him to get lost or lose things. His sense of smell is also pretty good, but exclusively when he's gone blind from stress. Other than that, he's ordinary in that department. A downfall of this is that he can get overwhelmed with sensory information. When that happens, he'll typically close his eyes to block out at least one sense.
ETCETERA
Concerning his PTSD: it's very well treated. He rarely gets symptoms crop up without a trigger, and when he is triggered, he'll go through a calming process or eat as eating preoccupies his mind. His tolerable symptoms include slight anxiety and avoidance of anything that reminds him of the bombing. If that isn't resolved, it'll escalate to social withdrawal, depression, and flashbacks. The absolute worst symptom is reliving the bombing and going blind again. This will only happen if he's having a very, very bad day or if the other symptoms have been allowed to pile up and trigger intense survivor's guilt.
On a special note, he really, really hates cheese. Like, if you put it on his food, he'll throw it out. If he smells it, he'll find the source and either get very far away from it or throw that away as well. Milk, ice cream, yogurt? All perfectly alright. Cheese is the enemy. Unless it's dipping cheese or goat cheese; he doesn't like non-spicy cow's cheese at all.
Michi speaks English and Spanish fluently, capable of throwing around slang easily. He speaks Japanese as well, but due to learning it from his mother and grandparents, it's very formal sounding. He has a tough time switching to more casual words. He's also able to spew a few phrases in Arabic and carry on a bit of a conversation, nothing complex, though.
Due to being raised on a boarding facility and participating in various horse-y activities, Mitch is quite the equestrian given that you're riding English. He's best at dressage and jumping, though the former of those he doesn't like to talk about as he got teased about it when he was younger.
Michi's a warrior. He's good in hand-to-hand combat and at handling guns (not that he really gets to, in Japan). He's also a good strategist. On top of all this, Mitch is stupidly strong. He squats close to 400 lbs, after all.
He's business savvy, at least when it comes to pricing. He knows the value of things pretty well, unless they're specialty or so rare they're unheard of. Then, of course, he has no reference point.
He has a heightened sense of hearing smell, and spatial awareness. More or less, as echolocation has been confirmed in humans, especially so among the blind, he has a good deal of this. He's also good at keeping up with where things are, as he sometimes cannot just look to remember where he left something; that could jut count as good memory, though. At any rate, it's hard for him to get lost or lose things. His sense of smell is also pretty good, but exclusively when he's gone blind from stress. Other than that, he's ordinary in that department. A downfall of this is that he can get overwhelmed with sensory information. When that happens, he'll typically close his eyes to block out at least one sense.
ETCETERA
Concerning his PTSD: it's very well treated. He rarely gets symptoms crop up without a trigger, and when he is triggered, he'll go through a calming process or eat as eating preoccupies his mind. His tolerable symptoms include slight anxiety and avoidance of anything that reminds him of the bombing. If that isn't resolved, it'll escalate to social withdrawal, depression, and flashbacks. The absolute worst symptom is reliving the bombing and going blind again. This will only happen if he's having a very, very bad day or if the other symptoms have been allowed to pile up and trigger intense survivor's guilt.
On a special note, he really, really hates cheese. Like, if you put it on his food, he'll throw it out. If he smells it, he'll find the source and either get very far away from it or throw that away as well. Milk, ice cream, yogurt? All perfectly alright. Cheese is the enemy. Unless it's dipping cheese or goat cheese; he doesn't like non-spicy cow's cheese at all.
OUT OF CHARACTER
OOC NAME Nick
OTHER CHARACTERS nah
OTHER CHARACTERS nah
MADE BY MINNIE OF BACK TO NEVERLAND
