Picco

GENERAL
Full Name: Picco Race: Moogle Age: 19 Gender: Male Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Residence: Up until very recently, Picco shared a small apartment in Rabanastre's East End with his mother, father, three brothers and five sisters. Officially, he has since moved into the city guard barracks, but still spends a great deal of time at his family's home. Affiliation: Rabanastre City Guard Occupation: City Guard Night Watchman. Religion: Light of Kiltias.

COMBAT
Class: Soldier Gear: Shortsword, Buckler, and a tailored, moogle sized City Guard Uniform.

CHARACTERISTICS
Appearance: Picco stands at about a meter tall, and weighs somewhere within the ballpark of 55 pounds. His fur is cream-colored, with a topknot of chestnut-brown hair atop his head, and his dark, perpetually wet eyes are quite large. Picco takes no small amount of pride in his appearance, and pays special attention to his pom-pom, which he grooms at least three times a day.

Picco is (uh, apparently, I guess) very handsome by moogle standards.

Personality: Moogles within the city guard are rare, even meant to be the subject of objection and fun, and so young Picco is set to prove himself worthy in the eyes of his peers. Blessed with both a sense of rigid, unswaying duty and a nerve to impress dragons, Picco fancies himself a bit of a knight errant and carries himself with poise befitting a storybook hero. Honor and glory for the sake of good is important to far too few these days, in Picco's opinion, and if it falls to him to set an example.

His brothers and sisters often say that he was born with excess temper where his sense of humor ought to have been. To their credit, Picco has yet to prove them wrong.

HISTORY
Every litter has a runt.

While his older brothers and sisters aspired to be mechanists, pilots, magicians and scholars, Picco, the youngest child, wanted to be a warrior.

And not just any sort of warrior, either; he wanted to be a hero.

Perhaps he'd grown enamored of the stories in his parents' collection of thick books, or perhaps he'd snuck off to listened to too many bard's tales at Rabanastre's Sandsea Tavern one time too many. Whatever the reason, the idea had stuck in the young moogle's head, and when the city children ran to the streets to engage in play warfare, Picco would follow after them with wooden sword and pot-lid shield in hand, ready to smite any little boy or girl who attempted foul play.

His parents were as supportive as they could stand to be, assuming that Picco's obsession with heroics were a simple phase. Of course, the obsession was not, and the acts of alleyway justice continued into his adulthood.

Picco was fifteen when he first applied to city guard training, and was laughed out of the barracks. He resolved to return every week until they allowed him to prove his worth.

He was seventeen when he finally wore them down.

Perhaps they respected his tenacity, but more likely, they thought admitting the moogle to the rigorous training program would be a brilliant joke, and that once Picco failed the training, he would resign himself to leave the guardsmen alone. Whatever the reason, he surprised them all by passing.

By the skin of his teeth, of course, but that is beside the point.

Picco has remained on the city guard for the past two years and has become the guardsmen's unofficial mascot, much to his eternal chagrin. The guard posts him on nightwatch in the safest part of town, and only on a pair of nights a week, loathe to consider the possibility of subjecting the small moogle to any real danger. But it matters not.

Picco wears the armor of the guard with the utmost pride. After all, it is his first step towards becoming a real hero.