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TOC App: Fintan Wells

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:icontheoldchateau: The Old Chateau Application, Fintan Wells

I’ve never done any pokemon rp, but I’m going to give it a try so here goes nothing. I decided to be different and pick a pokemon I am not already obsessed with. Took me forever to write up a simple bio after I finished drawing him though, or he would have been submitted days ago.



:bulletblue: Name: Fintan Wells, will answer to Finn
:bulletblue: Species: Frillish
:bulletblue: Age: Looks about 28, but is definitely older than that
:bulletblue: Gender: Male
:bulletblue: Ability: Cursed Body
:bulletblue: Nature: Quirky
:bulletblue: Move list: Night Shade, Hex, Recover, Brine
:bulletblue: Job: Chef and Master Baker
:bulletblue: Room #: Suite 6
:bulletblue: Relationships: Jack, the ditto, is Fintan’s best friend
:bulletblue: Personality:

Fintan Wells is a tall glass of cool water. A lean mean baking machine of six feet and four inches packaged in tailored clothing that shows off his every attribute and leaves little to be desired. That said, Fintan is a clotheshorse of the worst variety. He has been known to make several outfit changes a day for no real reason. Usually wardrobe changes are reserved for attire malfunctions such as: his shirt becoming rumpled or spilt flour on his pants. His extreme fondness for shades of blue, coat tails, double breasted jackets, and tasteful ruffles – when the occasion is appropriate, and certainly never in the kitchen – and sheer quantity of clothing can be overwhelming to the unsuspecting laundress. However, he would not entrust his valued possessions to just anyone. The individual(s) deemed trustworthy would undoubtedly find themselves showered with delicious treats in payment. It is not every day you find someone willing to impart as much careful attention to his wardrobe as it deserves.

Of course, Fintan’s obsession with appearance isn’t limited to vestments. His personal grooming is impeccable, although there isn’t much he can do about his fair skin which has been politely described as possessed of the blue undertones of a drowned corpse. His skin, combined with the fair hair and eyes, often has people mistaking him for an albino. For the record he is not an albino and, as he vocally explains when the subject is broached, anyone bothering to look would note that his eyes are in fact red boarded by a ring of blue. He tends to go on ranting about how the shade of blue perfectly matches that of his favourite dressing gown and the conversation goes downhill from there. Clearly his personal appearance is a touchy subject, though perhaps that is not so surprising. After all, he was not always as he is today....

- - - - - - - -

Fintan grew up wild in the ocean, spending his days in drifting sleep five miles below the surface where darkness always reigns and his nights combing the upper currants for prey. He was traversing his way toward the starlit upper waters when the unforeseeable happened. An object travelling at high velocity crashed into the ocean, boiling the water around it and leaving turmoil in its wake as it raced its way to impact somewhere along the sea floor. Needless to say, this event quite interrupted the everyday routine of the residents thereabout. Fintan, though of course he did not have the name at the time, abandoned his search for breakfast and went to see what was going on. As he neared the path of its passing, the water grew unusually warm and he shuddered with discomfort. However, there was something more lingering in the water besides warmth, its presence subtler but just as pervasive. By the time he noticed the odd smell/taste in the waters around him Fintan was already feeling its effect. Even with his thoughts muddled he attempted to retreat, but the lethargy won out and darkness fell.

He drifted. Time stretched as the unheeding currents carried him where it willed.

His chest hurt. Sounds filtered in: the creak of ropes, a rhythmic mechanical hum playing counterpoint to the soft slosh of waves smacking against wood, and the murmuring of agitated voices. He felt damp wood beneath his cold fingers. His eyes flickered open and his lungs sucked in air, relieving the deep ache in his body’s core. A human face appeared, floating above Fintan’s head like the moon. More talking. His eyes drifted closed as his breath stuttered in an out and he fell back into the darkness.

- - - - - - - -

It turns out that the currents just so happened to carry his transformed person into the nets of some unsuspecting fishermen who were quite startled to find a dead body in among their usual catch of sea fish. And when the body, Fintan of course, turned out to be quite obviously not as dead as it should be they figured it best to be nice, at least until they returned to port. Mostly they couldn’t bring themselves to toss him overboard. He overheard their part of their frantic conversation on the matter but the general shock of finding himself with human hands and feet had his mind drifting, much like his body on the ocean currents while the residue of whatever crashed into his watery home danced its terrible dance upon his body. He seemed to catch something about ill luck among their whispers. The next time his surroundings filtered back into focus, he found a blanket had been tossed in his general vicinity. It seems they were wary about touching him for some reason -- possibly a wise decision considering the questionable control he still has over his poisonous touch.

On the way back to harbour, the trawler was intercepted by a large research vessel. The fishermen unsurprisingly took no issue when asked to hand Fintan over to the rather alarmingly armed scientists; after all they were not too keen on his presence to begin with. Again Fintan found himself driven by currents outside of his control. He spent what he can best approximate as two years of his life in the underground facilities of a research laboratory. His discharge came without forewarning and an abruptness that seemed suspect. The lack of orderlies as Dr. Berne, one of the lead scientists of facility, escorted him out with nothing but the clothes on his back might have been a major indicator. However Fintan was able to take advantage of the moment and smuggled his best friend Jack out with him. Said friend was disguised as a compact mirror at the time. It’s not as crazy as it sounds. Jack is a common variety ditto with somewhat sub-par transformation abilities when it comes to duplicating living creatures but who excels at impersonating inanimate objects. The ditto, which Fintan named, belonged to a tangential project to Fintan’s own that was also run by Dr. Berne. fintan later learned that the P2 Laboratory was subsidiary to an organization called Team Plasma. But that was over ten years ago....

- - - - - - - -

Fintan is at home in the kitchen. Actually he’s the sort of make himself at home wherever he is -- and any unattended tea is fair game -- but the kitchen is his kingdom. Much like his personal appearance, he maintains order and tidiness in his domain. Fintan is a whirlwind in the kitchen, on top of everything, instructing others, and making sure everything goes as planned. He may be king, but he holds himself to the same level of perfection he expects from those around him. That’s not to say there isn’t fun to be had while working, quite the opposite really. Jack is usually found stealthily following Fintan around the kitchen as he works, disguising himself as pastries and cooking implements. He tends to start laughing when a distracted cook or visitor to the kitchen accidently picks him up, effectively spoiling his disguise. Fintan tends to talk to Jack while he’s working, even if his long time friend is currently disguised as a cupcake and hiding among a crowd of pastry brethren. Between Jack’s antics and Fintan’s running narratives the kitchen is always an interesting place to be.

And then of course there’s the abundance of cakes, pastries, pies and tarts. Fintan is a chef, but he prefers to think of himself as a Master Baker, desserts being his specialty. Flattery of his food is a sure way to win samples. Fintan’s passion for cooking is what drives him, though of course everyone has their off days.


Quick Facts:
:bulletblue: Fintan is a tea addict; he doesn’t understand everyone’s obsession with coffee.
:bulletblue: Huggers be warned: he doesn’t have great control over his poisonous touch, so you might end up numb for a while, especially if you catch him by surprise.
:bulletblue: Fintan loves to create delectable desserts but doesn’t really have a sweet tooth. This is probably the reason he isn’t as big around as a house.
:bulletblue: He has dislike of basements -- in his experience there is never anything good to be found in them -- that doesn’t hold a candle to his fear of heights.
:bulletblue: Enjoys long baths, although he finds most tubs to be an uncomfortable fit for his lanky figure.
:bulletblue: Fintan never brings up the topic of P2 Laboratory. In fact he tries not to think about it all, which is just as well since trying to remember causes extreme anxiety but repressed memories tend to do that.
:bulletblue: He carries an Everstone with him wherever he goes.




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barananduen's avatar
*is trying to imagine him in a Victorian but somehow manly apron*