personality

Anatole is not what you'd call the friendliest 'mon; a combination of life experiences and events has left him grizzled and grumpled. A dry sense of humor, a frank way of speaking, and cool aloofness would make anybody think (understandably) that he's not looking to make friends outside of his business dealings, and he would be fine with you believing that. Makes his life easier. Less complicated.[break][break]
Those who get a bit deeper, however, will see it's a mask. A rigid mask, but a mask all the same.[break][break]
In truth, Anatole's dealt with enough messes to know not to trust people so easily, lest they take advantage of that moment of weakness. Though gruff with most 'mons, he has a special soft spot for kids (especially for the influx of newcomers to the city). Though stubborn, he will not be shaken from a strict moral code. Though insolent and informal, he nonetheless respects those who gives respect. There's a nice guy in there somewhere, deep, deep, deeeeep down.[break][break]
He'd deny it outright, of course.[break]

[break]

background

Selling was in his blood, his father often said.[break][break]
Anatole found it hard to dispute that; his father owned a successful business, and his grandmother before that, and his great-grandfather before that. It was all Anatole knew growing up, and he was taught vigorously so that he'd inherit the business someday. Their legacy could be traced back as deep as the Crovalon dynasty, a couple of decades before the war. His family, while not a top leading name, were still comfortable and prosperous enough, though that took a hit once the war began in earnest.[break][break]
Times were hard for everyone then. They tried to provide for those in need with supplies, but with the economy taking a plunge, it grew difficult to keep the business afloat. A few of Anatole's ancestors helped pushed back the invaders once it became clear a more hands-on method was needed to help the people, but the lingering damage from that point on would follow his family. From what he was told as a youngster, the reason they didn't completely tank was due to a few shrewd decisions made after the overthrowing of the king, with money being put into safe places that they could fall back on in case of emergencies.[break][break]
And Anatole, young, naive, Anatole, believed it 100%.[break][break]
It was about when Anatole was poised to takeover the business that truth came to light. Very swiftly, by way of his parents being held hostage by a gaggle of criminals.[break][break]
Coming back from a errand run, Anatole initially felt fear and confusion; with the collection of Dark-types clustered around his family, he didn't understand why they were targeted; they've been doing well recently, yes, but there were larger, more affluent merchant families abound. But with a few uttered words, the leader elucidated;[break][break]
one, their family never truly recovered from the war; as profits hit an all time low, Anatole's ancestors made deals with shady crooks to keep them afloat, usually involving a plethora of illegal activity. As long as the family helped them and looked the other way, they would receive a cut of the profit;[break][break]
two, this has been going on for a long, long time; so long, in fact, that this group worked together with his family for generations, with a long-standing partnership that promised benefits for all should everyone do their part;[break][break]
and three, to keep his family from (ironically) becoming a target for the local authorities, the ne'er-do-well's exacted a steep 'protection fee' years ago, which they would come to collect roughly every month; as the family was in too deep with them by this point (caught between a rock and a hard place, between the law and the lawless), they had no choice but to agree. This was just a fact to them by this point.[break][break]
And thanks to some poor choices made by his parents, they were coming to collect, and Anatole was to pay the price.[break][break]
To say Anatole was angry was an understatement. It was like various types of anger were coalescing inside of him at once; anger at the monsters taking advantage of people in need; anger at his parents (at his whole family) for lying to him all these years, for stooping so low; anger at the world for allowing people like this to so easily twist anything they want into their favor; anger at himself, for being powerless to stop it. It was a hefty sum they wanted, but as Anatole was resting on a nest egg to fall back on once he inherited the business - and as he didn't want his mother and father to get hurt - he was able to pay them. Once they left, though, and once Anatole was sure his parents were alright, he went into his room. Packed a bag and tucked some of the leftover money he saved inside.[break][break]
And left. Didn't even say goodbye to his parents.[break][break]
He was disgusted. Fully, utterly disgusted. This was his legacy? A legacy steeped in grime and filth, for years? For years? He discarded his family name like the piece of trash it represented, vowing that he was never going to feel like this ever again, this sense of mortification, humiliation, helplessness.[break][break]
Despite what the name meant now, Anatole still developed a business sense and needed to provide for himself, but rather than work off the family name, he went into it for himself, under his own name and power. His clients would get complete transparency, he swore. He would provide good items at fair prices, even go and collect items not easily gotten from the many dungeons. Anatole would build a successful shop from the ground up, without falling into the pocket of thieves.

[attr="class","revcallstat"]10
ATK

[attr="class","revcallstat"]10
DEF

[attr="class","revcallstat"]02
SPATK

[attr="class","revcallstat"]04
SPDEF

[attr="class","revcallstat"]04
SPD