[C-D] Application: Francis 'Franky' Holloway

Rejoining with new character because...._shuddup;;

[Edit]: Updated the wish/history as instructed, changed it quite a bit at the end vuv;; Also edited the personality a bit and added more extras~

<sub>[Name]: Francis “Franky” Holloway

[Age]: 32

[Gender]: Male

[Pokémon]: #355 Zangoose 

[Nature]: Adamant (+Atk -Sp.Atk)

[Characteristic]: Quick Tempered</sub>

<sub>[Ability]: Immunity – This ability renders all poisons useless on the person with it.

[Job]: Ride Operator – Ferris Wheel</sub>

_{[Faction]: Atelier}

[Neutral]--Unless you piss him off  Franky is generally neutral toward others (though he still doesn't trust them) While his paranoia and general distrust of others usually keeps him from letting people get too close or him disclosing any personal information to them, he's still able to make and keep acquaintances on occasion, also depending on the person. 

[Aggressive]—Along with that scowl permanently glued to his furry face, he has a horrible temper to go with it. He'll snap at the smallest of annoyances and depending on just how annoyed or angry he is in the moment, he will not hesitate to resort to physical violence. Getting on his bad side is not recommended.

[Secretive]—He is very secretive and incredibly hesitant to reveal any personal information to strangers, and even people he's known for extended periods of time. When asked personal questions most are met with snappy remarks about “people minding their own arceus damned business” or suspicious glares and leers.

[Observant]—Francis pays close attention to his surroundings at all times, often glancing over either shoulder and listening attentively for even the smallest of sounds that could alert him to the presence of a possible enemy. No matter where he goes he never feels safe.

[Paranoid]—Suffering from severe paranoia Francis will often hear voices that aren't there or see things that aren't actually happening. A dirty look from another person in passing, whisperings about his identity. It's left him unable to trust another person for fear of being found and turned over to the authorities for past and present crimes.

[Cold]—Francis is a cold individual, unsympathetic toward others suffering and unable to feel even the smallest sliver of empathy toward the plight of another. Expect no pity from him no matter how terrible your situation, do not ask his advice, you will regret it.

”I need to get away; FAR away, where the coppers can't find me see? Yanno what I'm talkin' about! You got a look in yer eye like you know and I can tell... you understand, don't you...you'll help a guy out right? I need my tracks covered and covered good, I wish for it even! I wish to get away clean! I'll tear out my own claws and eat 'em before I let those bootlickers catch me red handed and strap me to the chair, ya' hear?!”

People would say they hadn't seen it coming. Hadn't expected it from someone who had the good fortune to grow up in a warm, and loving household. Certainly not rich, but nor as the family living in squalor and poverty. They were comfortable, and yet young Francis Holloway would grow up to become a crook. A life of comfort with many opportunities for education and well paying jobs didn't quite appeal to him as it would most others, as strange as that may sound. It lacked a certain...edge, and he was determined not to fall into that lifestyle. So he would leave home without explanation or even a goodbye to search for the edge he craved. Petty theft and vandalism were two things he often took part in on his own, and some years down the road he took on a partner in crime, a Seviper by the name of Fitz. The two became thick as thieves, though not without their arguments and petty squabbles over targets and stolen goods, they were able to get by together living day by day in the streets and alley's of Castelia City. Over time petty crime and vandalism became home invasion and robberies. When pickpocketing was no longer enough, and it became too risky to steal from vendors and shops with the fuzz wandering the streets on patrol in groups of two or three. For some years they kept their heads low and their jobs far and few between, stealing enough to let them get by before doing it again, until one night...

They were caught, red handed in the middle of the act. They hadn't expected anyone to be home, they had staked out the place for days before hand and there had been talk of a trip that would last two full nights, and they hadn't counted on one of the family staying behind. There were yells and screams as the young man made to attack them both to chase them from his home, with Fitz making to flee in a panic, something in Francis would click the moment he was struck with the bat the young man wielded. The entire incident ended with their now-victim impaled on blooded claws, and the snake staring from the window he had managed to half climb out of.

Murder.

They had fled, though not without robbing the guy first despite the horrific incident Francis hadn't been at all deterred from their original goal, their reason for being at the house in the first place and upon return to their hiding place, for the first time Fitz was in a cold sweat. Francis could smell the fear on him, the sweat that slicked that scaled flesh and it wasn't long before an argument broke out as he wiped the blood from his claws with intentionally slow strokes. The feeling of betrayal weighed heavily in his mind as Fitz explained his fears, robbery was one thing but murder? He couldn't get pinned for something like that, they'd go away for life! Or worse, they'd get the chair! His panicked rambles were cut short and hurried whispers became hoarse barks as things began to escalate rapidly. Fists were swung and accusations tossed, but in the end the rage and paranoia that overcame the Zangoose in the heat of the moment, that had been buried deep in the recesses of his mind since the years too far back for him to clearly remember, took over. He remembered every moment, every detail of his second murder. The feeling of claws cutting through scales over, and over, and over again would be engraved into his mind as hot blood matted his fur and dripped from his claws.

This feeling...he remembered it with such pristine clarity, though it was different from when he was younger since the prey back then had been small, defenseless animals that had no chance of fighting back, it was more that it was...better. More intense. Like they had done with the body of his last victim Francis would discretely dispose of his once friend's corpse, not an ounce of remorse would show when he dumped him in a shallow grave and left him to rot in the middle of the dense forest on the roads leading out of the city.

Years would pass and with them came a string of serial murders and robberies, a random and haphazard pattern at first in victims, but a pattern would develop as the skills of the murderer improved. He was certain the media had given him a name, but he didn't pay attention to those details. He cared nought for the attention he gained for his crimes, only for the thrill that came with each new victim. Only when headlines began to appear in the papers announcing new developments in the investigations, bringing them closer to discovering the identity of the killer who had got away clean so many times. He had been so careful, but too optimistic too it seemed, too confident. Everywhere he went it was a living nightmare just walking the streets. The fear of being snatched out of the road by the coppers chilled him to the bone and left him glancing over his shoulder more times than he could count to himself and it would last for days, weeks with him constantly checking the news.

He would walk around to avoid the watchful gazes of the patrolmen on the streets, and eventually he found himself wandering into a circus. He wasn't sure how he ended up there, it was almost as if he was drawn to it, yet not that long after he entered he would look up and it seemed almost as if no matter which way he turned there were eyes on him. He would pass them by and swear he'd hear his name, a whisper on their lips and soon he'd get lost in the crowds of people that lined up outside of game stalls and rides and he'd shove his way through the crowds to escape the suffocating atmosphere. Though patrons were clearly not allowed back that way, the Zangoose had escaped behind the show tent, the big top, where he would find a tall, dark man standing there, almost as if he were waiting. “Good evening.” The man would greet him, and he'd feel the fur on the back of his neck stand on end to that chilling voice. Not only that, but there was something about this guy, the way he carried himself in his posture and his eyes. A polite, yet sinister smile would pull at the man's lips as the silence stretched onward without a returned greeting, and he'd continue. “My, you look almost as if you've seen a ghost...tell me, what is it you are here for, hm?” A strange question to ask considering he was trespassing, before he'd answer, the strange man beat him to it. “You have a deep craving, don't you?” The lower tone his voice took chilled him further. “You have a wish.” It would be that one statement that finally drew a reaction from him. “You sayin' you can help me?” Hesitance and distrust was heavy in his voice, and yet this didn't seem to dent that smile on the dark man's face. “Oh I can do more than help, all you have to tell me...” a short pause would follow the tail end of that trailed off sentence, before that smile stretched into a grin. “What it is you wish so desperately for.”

A long pause would follow the question, with tension thick in the air as if an anvil weighed down from a thin string, straining to snap at any moment while the two stared each other down, before Francis spoke. ”I need to get away; FAR away, where the coppers can't find me see? Yanno what I'm talkin' about! You got a look in yer eye like you know and I can tell... you understand, don't you...you'll help a guy out right? I need my tracks covered and covered good, I wish for it even! I wish to get away clean! I'll tear out my own claws and eat 'em before I let those bootlickers catch me red handed and strap me to the chair, ya' hear?!” It had all rolled off of his tongue so easily, the vague yet outright admittance of his crimes to this man as he desperately scrambled for some way to cover his tracks.

That grin never faded from the Darkai's face, but the intensity of that gaze weighed down on the Zangoose far heavier than it had before. “Then work for me, and your wish will be granted.” The Zangoose's nose would scrunch up to the 'offer' because how was that supposed to help him? Work for him? Did he have ways of hiding from the fuzz? As if sensing these thoughts the Darkrai would speak up again. "While you are under my employment, it will be almost as if you never existed. All evidence against you? Gone." Such an offer he was making, though the little warning voice in the back of his mind told him this guy wasn't to be trusted, where else did he have to run or hide? Leaving the country was out of the question, and with the things he did chasing him to another city wouldn't be out of the question... He just had one question. "What's the catch?" In the blink of an eye the man was no longer 10 feet away, but rather right beside him and he'd make to jerk away from him, but was stopped by that piercing stare. "Oh it's simple really, take one step outside the boundaries of this circus and your wish will be undone~ You work for me from now until the day you die." A long and slender hand would be offered to him, narrowed eyes snapping down to it the moment it reached out. "So, do we have a deal?" 

There would be hesitance once again, because this deal just sounded too good to be true. His slate wiped clean, a hole in society where he used to be as he continued to live and work in a circus of all places, in exchange for his eternal servitude...

Slowly, he would reach out and take that hand, grasp it in a firm grip and give a shake as a suspicious glare sharpened to the cold hand in his. "Deal." 

[Likes+Dislikes-]

+Meat

+Cigarettes

+Alcohol

+Blood

+Hunting

-Chatty people

-Children

-Authority figures (Mostly just policemen though.)

-Mr. Dark

-Preachy People

[Move Set]

Pursuit -- An attack move that inflicts double damage if used on a target that is switching out of battle.

Crush Claw -- The user slashes the target with hard and sharp claws. It may also lower the target's Defense.
Detect -- It enables the user to evade all attacks. Its chance of failing rises if it is used in succession.

Close Combat -- The user fights the target up close without guarding itself. It also cuts the user's Defense and Sp. Def.

[Extra]

--A song that somewhat describes his true nature.
--Even though he is now employed at the circus he hasn't given up his most powerful obsession. Occasionally a patron of the circus won't make it home.
--He prefers his meat as close to rare as possible, and any kind of meat will do.
--He is average height 5'9" [5feet 9inches] and weighs 167lbs.
--He suffers from night terrors as a result of his intense paranoia, having doubled too since he joined the circus under Mr. Dark's employment and shady agreement. They often consist of the various scenarios in which he's imagined his own doom should he ever get caught, as well as a few old ghosts come back to haunt his not so guilty conscious.
--As a result of those night terrors he is usually pretty crabby from lack of sleep. 

[more to be added later.]

Rp -- I can do skype, note or chatroom rps, but my availability for chatroom rps will be scattered ;u; I get easily distracted while working on something else at the same time as being in chats, so I wont always be open for them, but skype and notes I am always up for! I might be a wee bit slow a times (since I am a literate rper) but I get it done!

Francis Holloway(c)

(c)